When I First Met Mike

When I First Met Mike

by ds elliot

This is the story of two men discovering each other. This story contains episodes of sexual abuse, physical abuse, and verbal abuse. While this is a story of discovery and understanding and compassion, the reader must live through the pain to get to that point.

All rights reserved. This story may not be distributed, sold, or linked to any other sites including pay sites without the express written permission of the author.

Copyright 2004.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between two young men. This is a story of intimate sexual contact and discovery and well as forced sex and violence. If you are not of legal age in your area to read stories of this nature or if you are offended by stories of this nature, please navigate to another site and stop reading now.

I would appreciate your comments, suggestions, and constructive criticisms. You can contact the author at: dselliot28@yahoo.com

and now for the story...

When I first met Mike he was huddled in a doorway of a closed shop in one of the seedier parts of town. I'd been to a party just a few blocks from where he was huddled -- a few blocks away and a much better part of town. What a difference a few city blocks can make. Soon this area too would be trendy condos and upscale storefronts, but tonight this seemed to be Mike's home.

I was walking from the party to my home -- about six blocks further -- and in a still better part of the city. It was easier to walk to the party than to drive and then find parking. Though the night air was cold, it was at least dry and with only a slight wind blowing. As I approached Mike partially buried under coats and blankets in his makeshift bed, I couldn't help but wonder how he got to that point in his life. As I got closer to him I couldn't help but try to look closer. He didn't seem that old... perhaps in his early twenties. It was difficult to tell. Both he and his clothes were dirty -- dirty beyond any hope of getting clean again. What I could see of his face was filthy. He was bundled up tightly against the cold night air with just a bit of his forehead and eyes clearly visible.

Normally I would have walked on by without stopping. Occasionally I gave money to those who asked, but it never amounted to much. Like most people I suspect, I was sure that whatever I gave him would be used for alcohol or drugs. I'm certain I'd already determined that his addiction to drugs or alcohol or both is what got him here in the first place. Tonight though I stopped when he asked for money to buy food. I've no idea what I saw or thought I saw in his eyes as I looked at him all bundled up in the cement alcove to the shop entrance, but whatever it was it caused me to pause. I asked when he last ate. He told me that he'd found some scraps from a dumpster at a nearby bakery that morning. That morning was probably 18 hours ago... too long to go without food. I believed what he told me. I don't know if I thought I read honesty in his eyes or his voice, but I believed him. I offered to take him to a 24 hour restaurant about three blocks in the opposite direction in which I was headed. He seemed surprised and skeptical of my offer, but I told him that I'd buy him whatever he wanted to eat at the restaurant. There was a definite look of relief in his eyes at my assurances.

He got up from his position on the ground and began packing his meager belongings into a badly worn duffel bag. When he was all packed up he followed me -- preferring to walk a step or two behind me as he expressed his thanks for my help and generosity. When we got into the restaurant I took him to the men's room where I told him to wash up. He looked at me as if wondering if I planned to watch him clean up as he started the water in the sink. I took a leak and reached in to wash my own hands as he was soaping up his for the third time. The dirt and grime seemed to be part of his skin. I told him that I'd wait for him outside. He asked if I was really going to wait. I assured him that I would.

When he came out of the men's room, he was a bit cleaner than when he arrived. He'd removed his hat and heavy outer coat. Even with the rest of his clothes he looked skinny -- too skinny for his height. I was also a bit surprised to see that he really wasn't much more than his early twenties if even that. His color was good... better now that the grime was mostly gone. He smiled at me. He had all his teeth and they looked to be healthy and basically white. I'm sure they could use a cleaning and perhaps some other attention, but the homeless don't have much of a dental plan. We got a table in the back area of the restaurant away from what few people were in the place at this hour.

The waitress brought menus and offered coffee. I decided on coffee while Mike asked for hot chocolate. We looked at the menu for several minutes. I asked Mike what he thought he'd like to eat. He told me that it all sounded so good that he was having trouble deciding on one thing. I told him that he could order whatever he could eat. He made his choices. I wasn't hungry when I went into the restaurant, but the smells of food caused my stomach to rumble so I decided that I'd order too. When the food was delivered, Mike ordered a large glass of milk. I didn't laugh out loud at that, but I just couldn't picture a homeless person drinking milk. Mike wanted to know what was funny to me. I tried to explain it without offending him. He told me his life wasn't always like this. He told me that things were better a long time ago, but everything went bad and he had no one to turn to for help -- no family or friends who cared enough.

I felt sad and sorry for his situation. I asked him how it all started for him. He started to tell me his story as we ate our meal.

Mike's mother had remarried when he was 13. Her new husband didn't like Mike all that much and didn't hide that fact from anyone. Life at home was pretty miserable for him... some physical abuse (beatings, fights, harsh punishments) and frequent verbal abuse. When Mike was in the summer of his 15th year the abuse had gotten worse. On one particularly bad day and night of physical and verbal abuse, Mike decided that he would give his mother a choice -- a choice between him and her new husband. She chose her husband. Mike didn't feel like he had any choice as he started looking for somewhere else to live. His one grandmother lived is a one bedroom apartment in a senior center so she couldn't take him. He didn't know of any other relatives who might take him. He started talking with his friends. His friends helped him for a while, but they couldn't hide him from their parents. He stayed with various friends during part of the summer until it seemed like he was losing his friends by imposing on them so he struck out on is own. He had as many of his possessions as he could carry in a hiker-style backpack and a few other items in a gym bag. He didn't really know where he was headed, but soon found himself in the city. For the first few weeks all was good for Mike. He camped out in a sheltered area with other homeless people. No one seemed to mind that he was there or paid much attention to him at all. That is until one day when he was hanging around the camp area with not too many people around. Three other homeless men approached him. The three were aggressive and mean. One knocked Mike to the ground and beat him until he wasn't resisting while the others rummaged through his things taking most of what he had including the shoes he was wearing.

Mike was left with a bloody lip, a black eye, a bloody nose, no shoes, and not much more than the clothes on his back. No one tried to stop the three men as they beat him and took his things. Up to that point Mike thought there was a certain comradeship among the homeless people. On a few occasions some had offered him food or drink. Others had told him where and how to set up his camp site. Still others had shared where the best shelters were located and where free meals were available. He never dreamed that he'd be attacked by fellow homeless men. He was hurt and scared and felt more alone than ever. He didn't know what he should do, but he knew he shouldn't stay there in case the men came back. He decided to head to one of the shelters to perhaps get a free meal and a bed so he could recuperate from his injuries. He walked the three miles to the city where the closest shelter was located. When he arrived he learned that the shelter didn't open until 5:00 that evening. He had six hours to wait. His socks were worn through from the walk, but he didn't want to go barefoot so he wandered to an area where he'd had some luck panhandling. On his way to his spot, it started to rain. He sought shelter inside one of the buildings but was soon chased off by the security guard. Outside in the rain again, it wasn't long until Mike was soaked. He was cold and miserable and desperate with no where to turn. He was standing on a street corner wondering where to go and how much worse things could get when an old blue van pulled up in front of him.

The driver of the van reached over and rolled down the passenger door window. Mike could see all the religious things in the car and thought the man was safe. He was hoping for money when he asked the man for spare change, but the man offered to take him to his house just a few blocks from where he was and get him into dry clothes and fix him a sandwich. It all sounded too good to be true, but faced with the alternative of staying out in the rain cold and hungry, he climbed into the van. The man looked to be in his late thirties. He was wearing clean clothes but nothing expensive. He had a wedding ring on his hand and a bible on the seat between them. On the way to the house the man was friendly and talkative. He expressed concern for Mike and his injuries and told him he'd get him all bandaged up and good as new in no time. Mike was looking forward to just being in a normal house again. He started to relax and feel safe for the first time in years.

Once the van was parked in the garage, the man led Mike into the modest house. He showed Mike to the bathroom and told him to take a nice long hot shower while he took his clothes to put in the dryer. Mike happily agreed. Mike undressed and handed his clothes to the man through the partially open door. The man took his clothes and Mike heard him walking down steps as he climbed into the shower. Mike never felt better after that shower despite his injuries. With the bath towel wrapped around his waist he walked back into the kitchen where the man had two big sandwiches sitting on the table with a glass of milk and a bag of chips. Mike dug in. He was stuffed when he finished all the food. The two sat at the table chatting calmly about things in general. Mike even found himself laughing occasionally at some of the funny stories the man told.

It had been over an hour when a buzzer sounded from the basement. The man told Mike that his clothes should be dry and asked Mike to follow him to the basement. Mike did as asked. When they got to the laundry room area and were both inside the small room, the man grabbed Mike in a choke hold of some sort. Mike didn't remember anymore than that until he came to sometime later. When he did come to his hands were tied to a beam in the ceiling and his feet were secured to the floor about shoulder width apart. Mike was a bit groggy as he tried to assess his situation and wondered what the hell had happened to him. Mike was alone in the basement as he struggled to free his hands from the chains that had his arms stretched toward the ceiling. It was no use. Mike couldn't move much at all.

Mike finally heard footsteps on the stairs. He tried to look behind him to see who was coming, but couldn't turn his head or body that far. The man approached Mike from the back and slapped his bare ass as he walked in front of him. It was at that point that Mike realized he was naked. He started to shout at the man and call him names, but the man just laughed and told him to keep it up. Mike did keep it up as the man walked away. He only knew the man had returned when he felt incredible pain in his back. Mike swore again. Again the sharp pain. Mike yelled out again, and again another blow to his backside. The man told Mike he could keep this up all day as he continued to hit Mike from the top of his shoulders to his knees. Mike didn't see what the man hit him with, but whatever it was seemed to strike in several places with just one swing. In not too much time Mike was crying but still demanding to be let loose. The blows kept coming until finally Mike was silent. Mike suspected that he passed out from the pain, but he didn't know for sure. He just remembered coming to at some point with a very sore backside. He struggled again to get free, but his bindings didn't give even a fraction of an inch.

When the man came back to the basement some time later, he told Mike to keep his mouth shut or he'd get the whip out again. He told Mike that he'd learn to follow orders or he'd be beaten to death. The man told him he didn't much give a damn which way it went because he'd like it either way it happened. Mike decided to keep his mouth shut. The man came back with a damp face cloth and roughly wiped up Mike's face. The man then began to run is hands over Mike's shoulders, arms, and chest. Mike tried to pull away from his touch but couldn't go anywhere. The man played with Mike's nipples -- flicking them, pinching them, rolling them between his finger and thumb. Mike sucked in his breath at the first touch and held it until the man's pinching became painful. Mike yelled out, and the man pinched harder as he reminded Mike that he was told to keep his fucking mouth shut. Mike silently suffered and winced at the pain the man inflicted as he watch the man twist and pull at his sore nubs. The man eventually tired of the tit play and grabbed Mike's dick. The man pinched the head of his dick and pulled it as far from his body as it would go. Mike watched in silence as the man fondled his dick. Against his will, his dick began to fill with blood. Mike was shocked that this treatment would make him hard. He tried to will it back down, but it just wouldn't happen. The man then began fondling Mike's balls. At first the ball play was gentle, but the man gradually became rougher -- pulling on them, squeezing them. Mike begged him to stop, but the man only became rougher until Mike yelled out. The man gripped Mike's balls in his vice-like grip and reminded him to keep his fucking mouth shut. Mike whimpered at the rough treatment and tried to suffer the pain and humiliation quietly. When the man had enough of Mike's front side he moved to the back and began to squeeze and slap his ass. Mike felt the man grab a cheek in each hand and spread them open. Mike sucked in his breath as the man poked at his hole with his finger. Mike was scared of what the man likely had in mind, but he was powerless to do anything to stop it. After a few minutes the man stopped playing with his ass and slapped him hard. Mike muffled a scream of pain as the man walked away.

But soon the man was back. He put a chain around Mike's neck and attached another length of chain to that. The chain felt cold as it rested on his sore back. The man attached a length of chain between Mike's spread ankles then released his feet from the floor and his hands from the ceiling hooks. Mike slumped to the floor as the blood once again began to flow into his arms. He was weak from his ordeal. Mike had lost all track of time. The basement gave no indication of time -- no clocks, no doors, and no windows that he could see. The man ordered Mike to crawl on his hands and knees to a bucket. When they got there the man told Mike to piss like a dog in the bucket. Mike looked at the man with a questioning stare. The man slapped Mike's ass yet again and told him to lift his leg and get his dick over the bucket to piss or he wouldn't get another chance for eight hours. Mike tried and managed to get his leg up and his dick over the bucket. It took a very long time to get the flow started, but once it did Mike realized that he really did need to pee desperately. When he was finished with that, the man had Mike crawl to a mattress in the far corner of the room. Mike was told to lay face up on the mattress. The man locked Mikes wrist chain to an eyelet in the wall and his ankle chain to an eyelet in the floor at the end of the mattress. It wasn't exactly a comfortable position, but it was better than being chained to the ceiling. The man tossed a rough blanket over Mike and left the basement. At some point Mike drifted off to sleep.

Mike was awake when the man came down the stairs. Mike was unhooked from the wall and floor and made to crawl back to the bucket for his morning piss. It was a bit easier this time, but still very embarrassing. Mike was given some food to eat. It wasn't much, but it tasted good, and Mike was starving. When he was finished with the food the man led Mike back to the bucket and told him to squat over it and take a shit. Mike did have to go. He really wanted to go last night but was afraid to open his mouth. Mike was squatting over that bucket for what seemed like ages as the man looked on. Eventually Mike got everything to work and was able to take a dump. The man told him to clean himself with the pile of newspaper near the bucket. Mike did the best that he could. Mike was then made to crawl to another room where his chain leash was locked to the wall. There was a sink and toilet in the room. Mike wondered why he couldn't have just used the toilet, but didn't ask. The man was rough with Mike as he forced something inside his ass. Mike struggled against the man as he felt something filling him up. The man held Mike in a kneeling position on all fours as he continued to force water inside. When the water began to trickle out, the man ordered Mike to quickly sit on the toilet so he didn't get that shit on the floor. Mike barely made it before the water came gushing out with force. The man pulled Mike off the toilet and began to fill him up again. This time it seemed to take longer -- like more water was being forced into him. When the man stopped the flow, Mike was cramping. The man made him continue to kneel on the floor while the man rubbed and pushed on Mike's stomach. Mike had tears in his eyes from the discomfort he was feeling. Just about the time he felt like he could hold it no more the man told him to get on the toilet. The water blasted out. Mike was on the stool for several minutes until the man was satisfied that all the water was dispelled and Mike was clean. Mike was still attached by his chain to the wall as the man changed nozzles. This time when the man turned on the water he sprayed Mike all over -- like a shower with a garden hose. The water was cool but not cold. He was given soap to clean himself as the man watched to insure Mike did a thorough job. Once the man sprayed the soap away Mike dried with a towel then crawled back to the main room.

This time Mike was led to a wood table and told to lay face up. When he did as he was told the man locked his limbs to the table. Mike was secured spread eagle to the table with no give in the chains. He could wriggle some, but he couldn't move either arm or leg. The man brought back a bowl of water, a shaving mug with brush, and a straight razor. The man told Mike not to move a muscle and to keep his fucking mouth shut or he'd likely cut something off. As he told Mike that he grabbed hold of his ball and squeezed them for emphasis. Mike got the message. The man shaved every hair on the front of Mike's body from the neck down. Mike didn't have a lot of body hair to begin with, but no young man wants to lose his pubic hair. That didn't matter to the man as he shaved hair on and around Mike's dick and balls. When the man was satisfied with his work, he released Mike from the table and locked Mike's feet to the floor in the same place this whole nightmare began. The man moved what amounted to a thin but heavy metal sawhorse with a padded top beam in front of Mike. The man grabbed Mike's leash and pulled him over the sawhorse then attached his wrists near the base on each side. The man proceeded to shave what little hair there was on the back of Mike's legs. When he finished with his legs, the man spread Mike's ass cheeks and shaved the few stray hairs there. Mike had never felt so naked, so exposed, so vulnerable, so scared, so humiliated. When the man was satisfied with his latest effort, he began to squeeze Mike's ass. The man then started to fondle Mike's balls. The man was seemingly much more gentle this time than he was the previous day. Mike got hard much to his dismay, but he couldn't help it. It had been weeks since Mike had cum. Being homeless didn't offer many if any opportunities to masturbate. He certainly hadn't met any girls he wanted to bed while living on the streets. The man then started to run his fingers over and around his asshole. Mike sucked in air as he tried to force his ass muscles to block an intrusion. The man just continued to run his fingers around and over the hole until finally Mike had to exhale the air in his lungs. This caused his body to relax some and at that instant the man pushed his finger inside. Mike groaned and tried to pull away. The man slapped his ass hard and demanded that he hold still. The man spent several minutes fingering Mike's hole. When the man pulled his finger out Mike thought it was over, but he heard the distinct sounds of a zipper. Mike panicked and tried in vein to get away. No matter how much he struggled, he wasn't going anywhere. The man just laughed as he watched Mike try to escape his fate.

Mike was crying and pleading and begging the man not to do it, but the man just laughed and ignored his pleas. Soon Mike felt something at his hole. He was sure it was the man's dick. Mike struggled a bit more. The man told Mike it would be easier on him if he relaxed but the man told him that he really enjoyed it when Mike tried to fight it as he continued to laugh. Mike was sobbing as his body was bent over that sawhorse with no way to avoid what was coming. Mike was doing his best to resist the man, but he felt the man pushing harder against his hole. Mike kept begging the man to stop, but the man kept pushing and with one hard thrust the man breached Mike's hole and was lodged inside. Mike screamed in pain, but his screams and crying only seemed to excite the man more. The man was rough as he fucked Mike the first time. He didn't allow Mike's body to adjust to having his thick dick inside him. The man simply pushed in as far as he could go than started to fuck him hard -- slamming his body against Mike's upturned ass with each thrust. There was no pleasure in this experience for Mike. The man didn't want there to be. If it had been pleasurable to Mike, the man wouldn't have enjoyed it. He fucked on Mike for over half an hour before he unloaded his cum inside him. When the man came down from his climax, he pulled his still hard dick out of Mike's ravaged ass. The man laughed as he looked as Mike's hole still gaping wide open. His once tiny pink hole was now swollen, red, and puffy. The man slapped Mike's ass before he stuffed his now flaccid dick back in his pants and went upstairs.

Mike was left over that sawhorse for the next couple of hours. When the man came back to the basement, he released the latch bar that held Mike's wrists to the horse. Mike could raise his body up to a standing position, but his wrists were still attached to the horse. The man held a water bottle to Mike's lips as Mike drank. When Mike drank all the water the man would allow, the man stepped down hard on the bar that secured Mike's wrists, and he was once again bent over the sawhorse. The man walked behind Mike to inspect his ass. He pulled the cheeks apart. Mike was begging the man not to, but he just laughed and told him he was being a damn baby. He told Mike that there wasn't even that much blood. Mike heard the man's zipper again. Mike begged again not to be fucked, but the man just shoved it through his swollen and abused ring. Mike's whole body shook from the invasion. It felt like his ass was on fire. If anything this time hurt worse than the first time as Mike thought his guts were being pulled out through his ass. The man fucked him hard once again. The man slapped Mike's ass as he pounded his dick to the inner depths of Mike's bowels. Mike couldn't cry anymore. The pain was intense, but not enough to cause him to pass out. He just wanted it to be over, but the end never seemed to arrive. Mike said the man was an animal the way he fucked him with no care or concern other than the pleasure the man got. Mike didn't know how long the second fuck lasted, but he thought it was twice as long as the first. When the man shot his load into Mike the second time he just laughed telling Mike he was gonna make him a damn fine pussy boy. When he pulled out Mike felt like his insides were being pulled out along with the man's dick. There was constant shooting pain from his ass up his spine to his brain. The man zipped back up and left the basement. Mike dozed bent over the house. He was exhausted, battered, and bruised.

After several hours the man came back to the basement with food. Mike was removed from the horse and locked by his leash to the wall. Mike could kneel or sit the way his leash was attached to the wall, but his ass was too sore to sit. Mike knelt. The meal was a large bowl of stew with four chucks of bread. Mike was starved and tore into the meal. When he finished eating and drinking for water, the man made him squat over the bucket to discharge whatever hadn't already leaked out his ass. When that task was finished the man made Mike crawl to the bathroom where he was hosed down and cleaned out once again. It hurt to wash his ass, but the cool water brought some relief to the soreness and tenderness of the tissue. When this chore was finished, Mike crawled to his mattress on the floor. Mike was secured as he was the previous night but this time the man fondled Mike's dick and balls. Mike tried to resist the feelings, but the man was making him feel so good. He was stroking Mike nearly to orgasm, but each time the man stopped as Mike's balls started to pull tight against his body. The man did this to Mike four times. Mike was pleading for the man to let him cum, but each time the man stopped. The final time the man pinched the head of Mike's dick hard -- so hard Mike's erection left him nearly instantly. The man looked at Mike and told him that he couldn't cum unless the man told him to. He told Mike he'd beat his balls if he ever shot a load without permission. Mike was whimpering as the man left the basement. Mike's ass was still on fire. Mike's balls ached in need of relief. Mike's dick was hurt where the man had pinched him so hard. Mike slept fitfully that night as he relived the horrible experiences of the day and wondered how much worse it could get. Mike pleaded with God to just let him die, but he was still alive the next morning.

By the time Mike got to this point of his story, we'd been sitting in the restaurant for a few hours. I paid the bill and over tipped the waitress. We gathered our things and prepared to leave. It had gotten colder outside it seemed. It was nearly 2:30 in the morning. I was exhausted. Mike looked tired too, but he continued to thank me for the meal. We walked together towards the doorway where I'd found him making small talk along the way. As we got to his spot I noticed that it was occupied by someone else. I apologized to Mike for losing him his spot, but Mike told me he was happier having a full stomach than that place to sleep and assured me he'd find another. I don't know what prompted me to invite Mike to my home for the night, but I did. Mike was hesitant at first -- likely skeptical about my offer. His hesitance made me more insistent that he come home with me, and so he did. My downtown condo was large with two unused bedrooms. Mike followed me inside. I took Mike and his bags to the laundry room off the kitchen then showed Mike to the bathroom. I thought he'd like a hot shower before bed. He seemed to smile at the idea as I brought in shampoo, soap, and a fresh towel. Mike had started to undress while I gathered the items he'd need. When I got back to the bathroom, Mike was nearly ready for his shower. I showed him how to set the water temperature and left him to finish his business. While Mike showered I found my seldom used bathrobe for him to use when finished. Mike took a long shower. When the water was turned off I knocked softly on the door to tell Mike I had a robe for him. I also offered to take his clothes to the laundry room. When he opened the door he'd wrapped himself in a towel. I handed him the robe which he placed on the counter. He gathered his clothes and shoes and handed them to me. I left him to dry off. Mike opened the door when he was finished. He looked so much different after his shower. His skin had a healthier color to it. His hair was lighter and a bit longer than I first thought. I handed him a new toothbrush and toothpaste as well as my electric razor. Mike shaved his slight beard and brushed his teeth. I offered him something to wear to sleep in if he wanted clothes, but he declined my offer. I showed Mike to the bedroom he'd be using. I'd turned down the bed and drawn the blinds. When I was certain that Mike didn't need anything else that night, I left him to get into my own bed.

Sleep didn't come quickly as I recounted Mike's story. It all seemed so impossible and so tragic. I realized that I really didn't have a clue how most people ended up on the streets. It wasn't always an addiction that brought their downfall. Mike's personal tragedy tugged at my heart. I wanted to do something to help him -- to change his fate, but what? I fell asleep trying to decide what I could possibly do and whether or not he was even interested in what I might offer. I didn't come to any conclusions before drifting off to sleep.

Morning seemed to come too quickly. Sunlight filtering through the blinds finally woke me at just after 10:00. I got out of bed and pulled on the boxers I'd worn the day before as I headed to the kitchen. My body wanted coffee. Once the coffee was started I headed back to my room to shower and prepare for the day. I'd completely forgotten that Mike was in my home until I was drying myself. I wondered if he indeed was still here. I hadn't heard him leave, but I realized I might not have if he was trying to be quiet. Dressed in fresh clothes I was back in the kitchen for my first cup. I checked the laundry room. Mike's things were still inside. I thought about washing his clothes, but decided that I needed to wait for Mike to do that. I didn't want to rummage through his personal belongings. It seemed an invasion of his privacy.

Mike joined me in the kitchen at just about noon. He was wrapped in the bathrobe and looked somehow better -- perhaps refreshed from a good night's sleep. I served him coffee as he sat at the table and brought sugar and cream for his coffee. Mike told me that he couldn't remember when he'd slept so good. Mike said that he couldn't remember the last time he slept in a real bed in a private room. I felt sad at his comment yet pleased that I gave him that experience once again. By the time we finished that pot of coffee, I brought Mike to my bedroom. I looked through my clothes to find something he could wear. He was no taller than me and only a slight bit thinner. I asked his preference for clothes to wear. He wasn't picky and would take anything offered. Since I was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, I dug out the same for him. I got socks and boxers from the dresser for him. I showed him the bathroom to wash up and opened the cabinet to show him where the deodorant and cologne were if he wanted to use either. He asked if he could get the toothbrush from the other bathroom. I left him in my bathroom to get ready while I fetched his toothbrush for him.

Mike looked so different when he exited the bathroom. He looked normal. I don't know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn't the young man before my eyes. Mike looked so young. I don't know why I didn't see it before. His eyes were clearer and brighter; his color better. I'm sure I was gawking at him because he had a questioning look on his face. I told him that I was just surprised -- that he looked so different than he had last night. Mike said that clean clothes really do make the man. I'd never considered it to be true before, but I was convinced now. We went back to the kitchen for food. We talked more as we ate and continued our talk from last night during the afternoon.

The routine the man had established for Mike on his first few days continued throughout his stay. After Mike was clean that next morning the man gave him a choice... get fucked in the ass or suck his dick. Mike didn't want to be fucked again so he sucked the man's dick. The man allowed Mike to start at his own pace as he sucked dick for the first time, but within a short time the man took over and set the pace. Much like Mike's first experience with anal sex, the blow job turned rough. The man forced his dick deep into Mike's mouth. The man seemed to get pleasure when Mike gagged and choked. No matter how much Mike tried to stop the onslaught of that dick, the man eventually forced it into Mike's throat. Mike tried to struggle and escape, but he was locked in place. There was nothing Mike could do. Once the man got all of his dick into Mike's mouth and throat, he forced it in each time he bounced Mike's head down on his dick. Mike couldn't catch his breath. He couldn't even protest or scream. The man shot his load in Mike's throat. The remains dribbled into Mike's mouth. The man demanded that Mike lick his softening dick until it was clean. Mike did as he was told.

A new twist was added to Mike's afternoon. The man wanted Mike to exercise. Mike did sit ups until his muscles cramped. He did push ups until his arms couldn't support his weight. He did jumping jacks as the man laughed at Mike's giggling dick and balls. The man encouraged Mike to do more exercise each day with a riding crop. Mike couldn't allow the sting of the riding crop to interrupt or slow his routine or the punishment would be worse. Mike learned quickly that punishment was swift and severe. Mike collapsed on the floor after the intense workout. The man left him there secured by his leash.

Some hours later the man returned and unfastened the leash from the lock. The man told Mike he was going to fuck him. He told Mike he could walk to the horse and bend over it or the man would drag him there. Mike wanted to resist, but the slap of that riding crop against the man's boots encouraged Mike to crawl to the horse and position himself on top. The man patted Mike's ass and told him he was a good pussy boy. The words made Mike cringe, but he was helpless. This fuck while not pleasant or pleasurable for Mike seemed to be easier. Mike thought his body was adjusting to the attacks. It was a long hard fuck, but Mike didn't scream this time. Mike grunted with each thrust and tried to think of anything else than what was happening. When the man finished he sat in a chair and ordered Mike to like the residue from his dick. Mike did as he was told. When the man tired of that he made Mike stand with his legs spread while he fondled Mike's dick and balls. Mike was hard. His dick was twitching -- so close to shooting, but each time the man backed off when Mike got close. Mike foolishly grabbed his own dick once when the man stopped. Mike immediately felt the sting of the riding crop across his chest. The man drug Mike to the horse and locked his hands palm side up to the top of the horse. He whipped Mike's open hands until they swelled. Mike tried to close his hands to avoid the blows, but the man beat this ass demanding that Mike open his hands. Mike never touched his dick after that experience except when told.

Several days later the man came to the basement and removed Mikes ankle and wrist chains. He stood over Mike as he knelt on the floor. The man told Mike that he was going to fuck him like the pussy boy bitch that he was. This time the man ordered Mike to lay on his back on his mattress and pull his knees to his chest. He told Mike he wanted to hear him beg to be fucked. Mike's mind fought the orders at first, but he knew punishment would be swift and painful if he didn't do as told. Mike heard the words come from his mouth without realizing he was saying them. When the man was pleased with Mike's begging, he knelt between Mike's raised and spread legs. He held Mike's wrists to the mattress over his head as the man mounted Mike. This fuck was like all the others, but Mike felt more exposed and more like a participant in his own humiliation. As the man fucked him, Mike replayed the words he'd said to the man. Tears ran from his eyes, but Mike wasn't crying. Mike felt the man's dick reach further inside him in this position. Mike's legs were trapped on the man's shoulders as his hands were pinned to the mattress. The man had been fucking him for a while... Mike had stopped trying to judge the length of each abuse and rather concentrated on the end. This time something strange was happening to Mike's body. Mike had an erection. Mike didn't know why he was hard, but he was. Mike could feel the man's stomach rubbing over his dick as the man pounded into Mike. Mike started to breath harder and gasp at the sensations he was feeling. The feelings weren't actually pleasant, but the feelings were stimulating him. Mike couldn't remember the last time he got off. He struggled to control the feelings he was having, but nothing seemed to work. The man looked into Mike's eyes and told Mike that he knew he liked to be fucked because the man could feel his hard dick. The man kept talking about his hard dick; talking about getting off; talking about the feeling Mike had in his balls. Mike was trying to fight the feelings, but he had no control. The man told him not to cum until he was told. Mike was doing his best to not cum. Mike desperately didn't want to cum in front of this man and certainly not while he was being fucked by him, but the feelings were getting more and more intense each time the man hammered away at his ass. After several minutes the man ordered Mike to cum. Mike didn't know what was happening to him. As the man had commanded, Mike's dick erupted spraying cum everywhere. The man kept talking as Mike shot. Mike really wasn't aware of what the man was saying, but Mike could feel his muscles contracting around the man's dick which was still pounding his tender ass. The man yelled startling Mike out of his confused feelings. Mike felt the man cum inside him. Mike was so ashamed and embarrassed, but there was nothing he could do. Mike was disappointed in himself for responding as the man ordered. Mike didn't understand why it happened. Mike questioned himself -- wondering if he actually enjoyed the way the man treated him.

The routine continued for several weeks -- perhaps months. Mike had no concept of time. Every few days the man would introduce something new for Mike to do. Mike was forced to lick the man's sweaty pits and rim his ass. The first time the man's ass was clean, but that didn't last for long. Mike gagged at that chore, but the beating was far worse than the taste and smell. The man made Mike beg for more things... food, trips to the bucket to piss, the daily enemas, and of course beg to pleasure the man's twisted and sick sexual desires.

One day Mike was cleaned inside and out after his exercise routine. This was unusual and not part of the daily routine, but Mike had learned not to ever question the man. Mike was fastened to his typical place on the floor next to the man's favorite chair. Mike spent most nights in this spot as the man read, watched tv, or just sat in the chair. Mike didn't get to watch the tv shows. He was ordered to be on his hands and knees and look at the floor in front of him. The man would occasionally pat his head or rub his back or fondle his dick and balls or finger his hole. While Mike hated what the man did, these times were moments of kindness and tender behavior by the man. Mike wasn't whipped or hit as long as he allowed the man total access to his body. Mike found himself looking forward to these times next to the chair because it usually indicated that the man was finished using him for the night.

Mike heard feet on the steps. He knew better than to look up to see who was coming, but he could tell it was more than just the man. He heard men talking as they entered the room. Mike wasn't sure what was happening, but he maintained his position. Eventually he saw boots enter his field of vision as he looked down at the floor -- three sets of boots that he didn't recognize. Mike was horrified to be in the position he was in and now having strangers see him this way. Mike was glad the men couldn't see his face and know his embarrassment and humiliation. Soon Mike saw glimpses of boys crawling near him. Mike had no idea what was going on, but he waited in shame as the man sat down in the chair. He felt the familiar touch as the man ruffled his hair and stroked his back. The men talked and laughed. Mike felt the man's hand rub back towards his ass. The man rubbed Mike's ass and began fingering his hole. Mike was horrified knowing that the other men in the room could see what was happening. Mike could feel the heat in his face and chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. What was happening was bad, but it would be worse to be punished in front of these strangers.

Mike was eventually allowed to sit back on his haunches. He could now survey the room. There were indeed three strange men dressed in leather pants and vests. In addition there were three boys -- one kneeling as Mike was next to each man's chair. The other boys were naked as well though two wore leather harnesses with large steel rings in places and they all had strange things around their dicks and balls. Mike thought these things were leather straps of some sort that seemed to squeeze the boys' balls to the base of their sacks. One boy had pierced nipples and a ring in his dick. Mike couldn't judge the age of the boys. Some looked younger, but it was difficult to tell since there was no body hair to indicate age. The men took turns showing off their boys to the rest of the group. In turn each of the boys was ordered to stand on the low table in the center of the room. The man showing his boy fondled the boy to make him hard then made him bend over and spread his cheeks so the others could see his boy pussy. The other men took time examining each of the boys -- touching and fondling and stroking and fingering. Mike felt embarrassed for each of the other boys as they were subjected to such treatment. Mike never considered that he too would be so publicly humiliated, but his turn finally came. It was bad enough that the man did these things to him, but so much worse to feel strange hands running over his body, rubbing his hard dick, fondling his balls, and fingering his ass.

When the men finished their inspection of Mike, the man ordered Mike to kneel on the table. Mike did. His leash was attached to a hook under the table forcing Mike's face to only inches from the surface. The man moved behind Mike and forced his legs open further. Mike was spread wide open for all to see. Mike heard that familiar sound of the man's zipper. Mike's body sagged down on the table. The man grabbed Mike's balls in a tight grip and pulled his sagging body back up to the man's preferred position. Without any notice or words the man forced his hard dick deep in Mike's ass. Mike could only grunt at the intrusion. The crying had stopped long ago. The man proceeded to fuck Mike in front of these strangers. The strangers watched and encouraged the man and praised him for his stamina. Mike heard the words through is burning ears. The man seemed much rougher than he had been in a long while as he pounded away at Mike's ass. When the man finally shot deep inside, he slapped Mike's ass hard and pulled his dick from his ass. There was a popping noise as the man's dick exited his ass. That noise embarrassed Mike as much as the public fuck.

Mike thought the ordeal was over and he'd be returned to his spot on the floor, but that wasn't the case. Each of the other three men took turns fucking Mike's ass. It seems to Mike that each man tried to be rougher when fucking him than the last had been. Mike as in pain. The pain started in his balls and rose to his hole. From there the pain traveled inside his body to the pit of his stomach and then traveled up his spine to his brain. To Mike it seemed that his mind had detached from his body at that point. Physically he could still feel the dicks ravaging his ass, but he felt he was floating up and away from his body. Mike stay in that place until the fucking stopped and he became aware of a totally different sensation at his ass. This new feeling was warn and wet and gentle. Mike's brain seemed to reengage. He knew there was someone behind him, but it was a touch he wasn't accustomed to. He looked back the best he could from his secured position to see one of the other boys with his face buried in Mike's ass. The sensation was that of the boys tongue as it lapped around and into his stretched and battered hole. The tingling sensation lasted for a long time it seemed to Mike, but not nearly long enough to erase the pain. Mike was released from the table. He crawled back to his spot on the floor. Each movement of his body brought the pain back full force. Mike sat on his haunches as directed with his knees spread wide. Mike could feel cum leaking from his hole and was acutely aware that his hole still gaped open. The men proceeded to abuse the other boys for the entertainment of the rest in the room. All the boys were eventually fucked by one or more of the men, but none of the other boys had to take on all four. Before the gathering broke up, Mike was made to lick and kiss the balls and dicks of the other boys. The man made it sound like this would be the greatest insult Mike could suffer, but oddly Mike wasn't humiliated or embarrassed as he tried to give each boy a small bit of pleasure before he left.

The gatherings happened every so often over the course of Mike's stay. Usually it was the same group of men, but sometimes there was a new member to the group. Mike didn't complain. Doing so would only bring a beating. Mike did as instructed and ordered -- nothing more and nothing less. Mike did what he had to do to survive the cruelty his life had become. Often as Mike thought before sleeping he tried to pray for some relief from the suffering, but none seemed to come. He tried asking God why, but there were no answers to be found. Mike resigned himself to this life because he had no other choice. Mike often thought of suicide, but there was no means to accomplish that. So locked away in the basement of the man's home, Mike learned to please the man and to take whatever abuse the man dished out no matter how sadistic and cruel.

Mike survived this portion of his life that lasted over four years. Each day he tried to find some means of escape, but there simply was no chance for him to get away. Toward the end of Mike's stay the man began to get more violent and threatening. It seemed that Mike didn't please the man anymore because he didn't look the part of the pretty pussy boy he was when he'd arrived. The exercise routine the man imposed had put muscle on Mike. His legs and arms were strong -- not strong enough to break the chains, but strong. Mike had developed a toned chest and solid abs. His muscles were tight. Mike hadn't seen a reflection of himself in all the years he'd been confined, but he could see and feel the changes in his body. One evening the man was a bit drunk after one of his gatherings. Being fucked by different men didn't bother Mike any longer. That had become another aspect of his life. When the group of men and their boys left, Mike was still on all fours by the man's chair. The man fingered his hole a bit rougher than usual as he told Mike he was going to be replaced by a new pussy boy. Mike didn't know what that meant, but he wasn't anxious to find out. Somehow Mike knew that his days were numbered. Mike knew he wouldn't get his freedom. The man could never allow that to happen. That night Mike wondered how the man would kill him as he waited for sleep to come.

Over the next week or two the man was gone more of the time. Mike suspected that he was looking for a new boy. Mike prayed that he didn't find one. Mike didn't want anyone to suffer what he'd been through. The man ignored Mike more over the last few weeks. When he did pay any attention at all to Mike it was in the form of rough treatment and abusive behavior both verbally and physically. On one of Mike's last days in the man's home, the man strapped Mike down to the horse. Mike hadn't been secured to the horse since the beginning, It wasn't necessary because Mike complied with the man's wishes voluntarily. Mike could smell alcohol on the man's breath as he fastened him to the horse. Mike knew this wasn't a good sign. The man fucked Mike harder than he ever had. It was so bad that Mike screamed more than once. When the man finished his roughest fuck to date he proceeded to use several of the sex toys that he'd used on Mike in the past. Mike's ass was sore and tender, but that didn't stop the man from using the various over-sized dildos, plugs, and other toys. Mike was in more pain than usual after a round of sex play with the man. Several hours later Mike's body was limp as it hung over the horse. He didn't have the strength to even raise his head. Mike spent the night on that horse. The next day the man fucked him hard again then released him from the horse. Mike couldn't stand on his own and crawling to the bowl of food that was placed on the floor was excruciatingly painful. Every muscle in his body ached. The man secured Mike's leash to a hook on the wall then left him alone in the basement.

Mike ate the food. It was cold oatmeal, but Mike hadn't eaten since the morning before so he was starved. Anything was better than nothing. As he sat waiting for the man to return so he could finish his usual routine, Mike heard the door slam. Mike waited for several minutes but heard no noise from upstairs. Usually he could hear the man's heavy boots as he walked across the floor, but there was no sound. Mike had an urgent need to piss. He wanted nothing more than to reach the bucket, but his leash didn't stretch that far. Mike knew that if he pissed where he was, the man would punish him and as mean as the man had been these past few weeks that punishment would be more severe than usual. Mike tried to hold it in, but he was losing the battle to control his bladder. Mike pulled on his chain and suddenly realized that it wasn't completely locked in place. Mike began to manipulate the hook and chain until he finally freed himself. At first Mike crawled to the bucket and raised his leg to pee. His brain didn't comprehend the fact that he wasn't bound or secured. He could move freely about the room. Mike was scared at first. If the man found him loose, Mike knew he'd be punished. It took some time before Mike realized that he was no longer confined... he was free. Mike crept quietly up the stairs and gingerly turned the knob. The door opened! Mike was amazed that it wasn't locked, but he didn't know if it ever had been. Mike wandered around the house to make certain the man was indeed gone. Satisfied that he was alone in the house, Mike went to the bathroom to clean himself. He didn't take a shower or bath though he desperately wanted to. Mike filled the sink with hot soapy water and washed himself the best he could while always listening for the should of a car or footsteps or a door opening. Once Mike had bathed himself, he went to the bedroom in search of clothes. The man was taller, heavier, and generally much bigger than Mike, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. Mike needed clothes to escape. He dressed in several layers wearing two pairs of pants, three pairs of socks so the shoes would fit, several pairs of briefs and t-shirts, two shirts and a sweatshirt, and finally a heavy down jacket. Mike then rummaged through the house looking for any money that might be around. He found nearly $40.00 -- not much but more than nothing. Mike ate from the fridge and drank milk for the first time in years. Mike left the house and casually walked away. When he was a few blocks from the house he found a pay phone. He called the police to tell them of the man's activities. Once Mike started to talk, he spilled the whole story -- barely taking time to breath. Mike also told the police the names of the other men who visited the house and kept boys. Mike was surprised how much he remembered and wondered if he'd gotten the names right. He also told the police that the man was looking for a new boy to kidnap. Mike could hear the sirens coming in his direction. Mike didn't want to be involved with the police. He knew that he'd given the police plenty of information about the man even though Mike never did know his name. Perhaps the best information Mike shared with the police was something Mike didn't know until that day. In one of the rooms upstairs were several containers of chemicals. At the time Mike didn't know what purpose those chemicals had, but when he told the police what he'd discovered, the police knew. The man had a meth lab going. Mike wasn't aware of what that was, but it seemed to interest the police more than anything else. Mike told the police that the man wasn't home at the moment, but that he never stayed gone for very long.

Mike walked back towards the man's house. He didn't want the man to see him, and he didn't want to get that close to it. Mike did want to see if the police would come to get the man. There was a car parked about two blocks from the house. The man in the car was watching the road with binoculars. Mike suspected that he was a cop. As Mike was turning to leave he noticed the same old blue van turn onto the street. He didn't look at the van. Mike didn't know if the man had seen him or not, but Mike didn't think that he had because the van kept going. When the van pulled into the driveway of the man's house, the police descended on the place from every direction. Mike was only aware of the one police car, but now there had to be at least a dozen of them -- some in the yard, some in the driveway, and the rest blocking the street. Mike walked closer to the house. He saw the man being searched by the cops. It wasn't until the man was cuffed and sitting in the back of a police car that Mike noticed the boy. The boy reminded him of himself such a long time ago. The boy was confused and begging to be let go, but the police put him in a separate car. In no time another group of police arrived and one very large police truck. Men in suits showed something to the man as he was confined to the police car. The front door of the house was kicked in. Within seconds the house was swarming with police. Men in what looked like space suits entered the house and began to remove the containers of chemicals to store in the truck. Satisfied, Mike walked away.

Mike had wandered the streets for several days completely unsure of what to do next. He'd spent the last four years taking orders and doing as he was told. He almost didn't know how to think for himself or make a decision. It took some time for Mike to remember himself as he was before the ordeal. Bits and pieces of those memories would drift back as something familiar triggered an old memory. Mike had been called pussy boy and bitch for so long that he almost didn't remember his real name. The first time Mike went to take a leak he stood in the stall of the public men's room and quietly told himself that it was ok to piss. He hadn't been able to do anything without being told for so long that the flow just wouldn't start, but finally it did. Mike felt a huge sigh of relief escape his lips. Part of that sigh was the result of emptying his bladder, but another bigger part was the fact that he did it without being told.

Mike wandered the streets aimlessly for several weeks. He scrounged food where he could, but was afraid of anyone who approached him. He didn't want to find himself in that situation again. He spent a few nights in a shelter for the homeless. One of the workers took a liking to Mike and gave him a little extra food and more blankets at night. She also got him clothes and shoes that would fit him better -- warm clothes because fall was coming. She also took Mike to a free clinic a few blocks from the shelter. The woman knew something was wrong with Mike, but she didn't know if the problem was mental or physical. At the clinic he saw a doctor who examined Mike. Mike didn't want to tell the doctor or anyone for that matter about his years of confinement and abuse, but the doctor was so calm and patient that eventually the damn burst. Mike told the doctor about the many things that had happened to him. The doctor examined Mike's back and took pictures of the scars. The doctor convinced Mike to remove the rest of his clothes. The doctor examined him thoroughly and took body fluid and blood samples to run tests to be sure Mike wasn't carrying any diseases. The tests would take several days before the results were known. The doctor gave Mike a card with his name and phone number so he could call if he didn't want to come back in.

Mike waited nearly two full weeks before he contacted the clinic. Life on the streets was harder on Mike than it had been before. Mike remembered trusting people before, but now he trusted no one. He felt like he was wandering around completely alone with no direction or purpose. Mike occasionally had thoughts that perhaps he really was the pussy boy bitch the man had made him. Mike didn't want to believe that, but so much of the time it almost seemed like he was better off when he was confined to that basement and used by the man. At least then he had food and a warm place to sleep, but he was never happy being that pussy boy bitch. Mike fought those thoughts and struggled to find his way. Mike felt the first step was to see the doctor again. When the doctor finally had time for Mike, Mike learned that he didn't have any diseases. Both Mike and the doctor were happy about that news. The doctor did recommend someone for Mike to talk with about his ordeal and experiences. Mike took the card and contacted the woman the doctor recommended. Mike found that he couldn't tell the woman any of what had happened to him. He was embarrassed by it and would be more embarrassed again to tell his story to this woman. Mike never did go back to his next appointment.

The night I first met Mike was a few months after his attempt to talk with the woman. Mike was desperate and alone. Mike had all but given up on life. Thoughts of suicide were constant considerations. Mike needed to end the pain and suicide seemed to be the only answer he could find. The night I met Mike was to be his last night. Mike had stolen a knife -- a small knife really, but it was sharp enough to accomplish it's task. Mike's plan was to walk down to a waterfront park. The park was a favorite place from years ago. Mike remembered it as he walked through it one afternoon weeks before. The park was a peaceful place. Mike liked watching the birds fly free and dreamed that he too would one day be free. Mike had a favorite spot in the park where he planned to end his life. He wanted to do it shortly after the sun rose. He'd hoped it would be a sunny day even if it was cold. Mike wanted to feel the warmth of the sun's rays once more on his face before he left this world.

Now we were sitting on the sofa in my living room. Mike seemed so at peace with himself and the choice he made to end his life. Tears were running down my face at the desperation he must feel. Mike had missed his morning in the park because he stayed with me. I tried to tell Mike that he shouldn't give up at least not yet. I told him that his problems could be fixed; that he could have a full and happy life. Mike told me that he was broken inside. No one could fix all his broken parts. I shed more tears as I tried to convince Mike that life could be better if he'd just try. Mike wanted to know why I cared. I didn't really have an answer other than the fact that on some level I could identify with Mike's pain. I'd never experienced anything like Mike had lived through, but on some basic level I understood his suffering and hurt. I knew which parts were broken. I wanted to help mend those broken parts; heal those wounds; rekindle a spark of life that once existed.

Our stomaches rumbled at about the same time. I laughed which cause Mike to smile. I got up and got a jacket for each of us as I told Mike I didn't feel like cooking so we'd go out to eat. Mike tried to leave saying he'd imposed enough already, but I insisted that we have dinner. Mike relented. We ate at a small but very good Italian restaurant on the next block from my home. Mike didn't know what to order so I asked a few basic questions about what he liked and didn't. Mike had a questioning look on his face as he said that he couldn't ever remember being asked that or that what he liked ever mattered. Mike simply ate what was available and didn't eat if nothing was. I ordered for us both. We were stuffed as we walked back to my home.

Back inside the warmth of home Mike asked if I liked sex with men. I was a bit surprised by his question since most people didn't suspect that I might be gay. I didn't hide my sexuality, but didn't advertise it either. I told Mike that I was gay. Mike told me that if I wanted to I could use him to pleasure myself. Mike said that the man always told him he was a great fuck and a fine cocksucker. I told Mike that he didn't have to do that for me. Mike said that he felt like he should do something nice for me since I'd fed him and allowed him to sleep in a warm bed out of the cold and even wear some of my clothes. I asked Mike if he was gay. He told me he didn't really know, but that he didn't really mind sex with men anymore because he'd gotten use to it. I told Mike that while the offer was very tempting that I wouldn't have sex with him until he wanted to have sex with me. I explained that I wasn't helping so I could get something from him. If he decided that he never wanted to have sex with me or any man, that was his choice and he shouldn't compromise. Mike smiled and thanked me then put out his hand to shake. I shook his hand then hugged him to me. It wasn't a sexual hug. It was a hug to show compassion and sympathy and understanding and acceptance and a desire to be his friend. I don't know how much if any of that was actually conveyed to Mike, but I felt better for doing it. Mike didn't resist or pull away. He hugged me back. We watched a bit of tv together before going off to our separate beds. Tomorrow would be another day...

and that brings me to the end of the first part of this story.

I hope you enjoyed this offering. If you've made it to the end of this portion of the sotry, please share your thoughts with me. I sincerely appreciate your comments, thoughts, and criticisms. You can contact me at: dselliot28@yahoo.com.

If this is the first story of mine that you've read, I encourage you to give some of the others a read. I'm listed in the Author's section at Nifty. Please scroll down to the 'e' category to find my name -- ds elliot. When you click on my name you will get a complete list of the stories I've posted at Nifty. Thanks for reading my work!

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Peace and Love.

ds elliot