Ruthless

Ransom

The kid went to a private school which made it a job to lay hands on him. He was at a boys' school in New York State. It wasn't just hard to get him because all I had was a photograph to identify him with but because they mostly keep them safely together on the school grounds. I got him after a week and a half when he was walking back alone from the town.

I jumped out of the trees. He gave a jump too but I came after him and stopped him. I'm pretty good with kids. I can tell them apart usually. I was ninety percent certain it was the right kid but with short brown hair and immature features and the kind of scaled down business suit that was the boarding school uniform, he looked like most of the kids at his school. This kid had nothing special about him to make him stand out at all. "What's your name?" I demanded.

He looked up at me with big startled eyes pulling away from my hand. "Let go!"

"I said, What's your name?" I repeated.

"Graham Harish." he said. He was thirteen, small for his age. He was the boy in the photograph I'd been given. His father had promised to pay me a hundred thousand dollars to kill him.

I didn't let go of his wrist. I dragged him with me. He looked real confused and tried to twist. "What is it? What are you doing? Where are you taking me? Let go!"

His voice was just at the stage where voices break, so it broke and went up and down.

"If you're quiet," I said. "I won't belt you around, but if you don't shut up and make this easy I'm going to belt you until you bleed out of the ears."

After that he was quiet, but he came after me with teeth clenched and a glare on his face. I was going to carry him if I had to but making him walk was easiest. I made him walk to the car.

When he realised what I was doing, putting handcuffs on him and putting him into the car he started talking again. "Oh my God…!" He sagged. "Please, oh God no!"

I don't think he was talking to me. He was praying. I did the handcuffs up on him and slung him into the back seat. Now I could have told him stuff like he was going to be okay, if he was a good boy and not to worry and shit like that and most likely if I'd promised to let him go alive he wouldn't have been as afraid but something in his shocked face with the big startled eyes made it hard to do that. I didn't talk to him at all. I just looked down at him stony and hard and he quailed when I did.

I could have killed him in the woods just a few steps off of the road. It would have been easy, even if I hadn't used a weapon. And I would have been paid even if I'd done it like that. But the customer had been concerned that the kid's death would be linked to him. He had inconceivably high child support payments you see. He would rather have his kid dead than pay them. I didn't think that they'd link the kid's murder to his dad, especially since the dad would have an alibi, being miles away. A kid's father wouldn't be the most logical first suspect to my mind. But like I said, Mr. Harish was worried that the cops would think he was involved so I had suggested that I should make the killing look like something else, give it another motive. It was just too tempting a job to turn down. It went a bit differently than I thought it would. I did it for a few reasons. I did it because I wanted the hundred thousand dollars and the Harish kid was a tender little piece of meat that it would be a pleasure to keep at a rope's end and because of another boy, a boy named Nico. But Nico was a secret of mine.

Graham stayed quiet in the car while I drove along the roads.I had the mirror on him and not on the traffic. I watched him. He lay back on the seat white faced. His eyes wandered. Done up the way he was and with safety locks in the back seat he wasn't going to get loose and he was smart enough to realise it.

Two hours later I got him to the cabin. It was a summer place I'd rented to live while I scouted the school out and to bring the brat after I'd laid my hands on him. He stumbled a bit as I brought him from the car inside. He looked up at the little building.

"Is this a kidnapping for ransom, Sir?" he asked me. His voice was thin and reedy.

"Something like that." I agreed.

I made him go in and I locked up the door with us inside. He looked all about, eyes turning as if he would see something that would make him understand what was going on. The cabin had only one room. He gaze hesitated for a moment on the orange tabby cat that was lying on one of the beds, but then I had the door locked and he backed away from me towards the wood stove.

"Turn around." I ordered.

Graham turned around and looked over his shoulder at me fearfully. "I'm doing what you say, Sir, see? You don't have to get rough."

I took his wrists and I undid the handcuffs. He turned back around and managed an uncomfortable smile, looking up at me. The smile turned into a look of panic at my words.

"Take your clothes off."

He backed right into the wood stove and cringed over it. He started twitching right and left as if he was trying to decide which way to try to run. His hands came up feebly and defensively.He couldn't back off any farther. Any direction he chose would have brought him closer to me so he stayed with an agonized expression plastered across his face.

"I'm not going to rape you." I said impatiently. "I need your clothes to prove that I have you."

"Ohhh!" He drew a big gasping breath. His hunched up shoulders slid down again. "Ohh.. God… I thought… You scare me so much."

"Good. I'm glad I do. Now take the fucking clothes off." I insisted.

He got off the wood stove but he didn't straighten up. He put his hands to the necktie at his throat and fumbled with it until it came loose. He took it and just held it up. I pulled it from his hands.

Then he took the jacket off and passed that to me, but when he had the jacket off he stopped. "That's enough." He said. "They'll know you've got me with those."

"That's not enough." I said. "Take it all off."

He didn't move. He just stared at me. The kid was paralysed. I raised my hand, an open palm ready to swing it down and he cringed again but it didn't make him scramble to obey me. It made him duck like he was going to fall off of his feet.

I caught him by the collar, dropping the garments I had already gotten, and I began to undo his shirt. He tried to stop me, plucking at my hands. "Don't." he squeaked "Sorry. Don't. Please. I'm sorry."

His shirt came off but not without losing a couple of buttons, ripped when he twisted. He didn't cooperate. When I went for his pants he flung himself away from me like a mad thing. I didn't let go so he fell his length on the floor and I knelt over him tugging at his pants. They came off. I left him in his underpants. He kicked and sobbed across the floor away from me. He finished bent sideways and doubled against a dresser and hanging onto his underpants even though I hadn't tried to take them off of him.

I stood up again. There was no sign of the cat. That meant it had gone under one of the two beds alarmed by the scuffle. I put Graham's clothes together, the shirt inside the jacket like they would be when worn, arms inside the arms and I laid it, spread open on the bed.

Graham was trembling violently all over when I went back to him. "Please don't hurt me! Oh please don't hurt me."

I hauled him up, found the handcuffs and cuffed him by one wrist to the stove. The wood stove was cast iron and well beyond the strength of one teenaged kid to drag loose. I only did the one wrist to it. I left him like that and sat down on the far side of the cabin.

He realised that I was just going to sit there after awhile. He stared at me fixedly for a long while before he figured that out. He kept his free arm clasped about his body. I glanced at him. I looked at his body and I looked away.

He really wasn't developed yet at all. His chest was small and smooth and the nipples were so pale that they were almost the same colour as the rest of his skin. He had a long thin arms and legs, but they were beautifully defined, boy's muscles, not a man's muscles yet. His underpants hid his cock from my sight but I could see the size of it through the white cotton. It was small, just a boy's cute floppy cock. I didn't stare at him because I wasn't trying to put him into a panic but I could have.

"Are you…?"

I looked up at him again.

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"Probably." I replied.

His eyes went big and his mouth grimaced. But he pursued what he was trying to ask. "Are you going to kill me?" His voice shook a little.

"You want to live?" I asked.

"I'll do what you want. But please don't hurt me. Okay, man? Please?"

I gave a small sour smile. Seeing him like that made me want to hurt him, not to kill him, but to yank the underpants away and grab what he had inside, to run my hands over his little pectoral muscles and get his smooth ass jammed up against me… Yeah, looking at him started a train of fantasizing off right away. What I wanted to do would fit his definition of hurt.

"Who are you?" he said.

I leaned my head back. "My name is Nolan."

"Could you tell me what you're going to do with me, Mr. Nolan?" he asked.

"You're better off not knowing." I said. And then I did go into the reassuring spiel because I wanted him cooperative and if he could be convinced to cooperate it was better for me. "You've got a good chance of getting out of this alive. If I get my money you get out of this alive. But if you become a problem for me, then I'm going to become a problem for you, understand? Any yelling or refusing to do what I say… Ever been beaten, really beaten?"

"No." he said softly.

"There's always a first time."

"Why can't I have my clothes?" His voice wobbled.

"Because I like to see you half naked."

Being honest with him put an end to our conversation. I put my feet up and idly began writing figures on a scrap of paper. 100,000 minus 380 for the cabin, 250 for gas, 40 for the cat, car rental, groceries didn't count, they were an incidental. Yeah, they did count if I was going to feed the kid… Graham got tired of standing there and went down in a crouch beside the stove. He kept his eyes on me. The cabin got quiet enough that the cat came out.

Working on figures got my hard on down. I'd gone over the figures half a dozen times before but they worked as a distraction. By the time the job was done I was estimating it would cost me at least two thousand dollars. But that would leave a real comfortable margin of profit. If I got paid, that was the thing. I didn't have a handle on Harish senior to ensure that I got paid.

After a little prowling the cat jumped up on the same bed as before. Graham's clothes didn't bother it. It circled a couple of times and lay down on top of them. It was warm in the cabin. I didn't do my figures I just sat still.

"Mr Nolan?"

"Shhh." The boy subsided. There was a little miserable curve on his mouth. I kept my mind resolutely off that mouth and what I could do to that mouth. I stared at the wall for another minute and then got up easily and slowly.

"What are we waiting for?"

I shot Graham a look. Now I wanted to belt his mouth. His eyes widened and he didn't pursue the question. I walked slowly over to the bed.

The cat opened its eyes but lay comfortably. When I reached down and folded over the front of the shirt and jacket covering the animal, it moved but it didn't get up. I wasn't covering its head and I still moved slowly and non-threateningly.

I drew the thirty-five automatic out of my jacket, readied it and pointed the muzzle point blank against the grey jacket.

The instant that the gun went off Graham started screaming. I whirled around. He had both hands up and was screaming open mouthed, still in the crouch. I looked back at the cat but it was dead of course. So I left it to bleed and went to Graham.

The first slap I gave him was light. He went on yelling, cringing away from me onto the floor, crawling against the stove.

"Shut up!" I snarled at the kid. "Shut the fuck up! Stop that noise! Do you hear me?"

"Uhhhhhh! Uhhh! You killed, you killed. You just shot the cat!" Graham kicked ineffectually. He was making an incoherent mixture between sobbing, screaming and talking. "Why? Why? Why did you shoot? You shot the cat!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

I gripped him and dragged him to his feet. My words got through. His volume went down. "You're crazy. You're a maniac. Why did you do that?" He wasn't crying but sobbing for breath. I held him on his feet.

"I don't want any more of this shit. Understand? No yelling."

"You… You are crazy. You're going to shoot me too!" Then he just panted.

I went on holding him because it was my crowding him and not the tap I'd given him that had shut him up and I didn't want him to start off again. "Listen to me." I said angrily. "Do you have any kind of self control at all? If I tell you to shut up and be quiet, be quiet. What the fuck did you think, I was kidding when I threatened to give you a beating? Don't make me mad. Do you understand? Don't make me mad."

"You killed the cat for no reason." Graham whispered.

"Yeah." I said. "I'm a crazy. I could do anything to you. So don't set me off by making me mad."

He put his free hand, the one he could bring up that far over his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." he said. "I thought… That poor little animal. You killed the cat!"

I let go of him and walked back. "It was just an animal shelter pet." I growled. "Worry about your own skin and not stupid animals."

I looked down at the pile of cloth on the bed. The bullet had gone into the mattress. The animal's head was still sticking out but its eyes had gone completely black. There was no mistaking how dead it was. The shape under the cloth lay like it was dead. There was a powder burn on the jacket, but only a tiny amount of blood visible.

I turned around and looked at Graham again. "I see you don't have the self control to do as you're told." I said. "So I'm going to make this perfectly clear. Next time you do something stupid, yell for help or go off into an hysteric fit, or try to do something to get loose, then I'm going to hurt you deliberately, understand? I'm going to do something to you, something you can only imagine, that is going to leave you in too much pain to do anything but cry. I didn't plan on getting any problems from you and I'm not going to have any problems from you." I fixed my eyes on the kid as hard as stone. "You won't be able to bear what I do to you if you make me angry and I won't be able to stop myself from making you wish you'd been killed at birth.

I sat down, put on a pair of gloves, pulled out a new package of notepaper, broke the seal and wrote a letter:

Your kid is dead. I dumped him where I think they won't find him for a couple of days so I can get safely out of state. The proof that he is dead is in this package. As early as you can the day you get this, take the clothes and put them in a dumpster in a part of the city you don't normally go to. Destroy the note. Remember, this is the evidence that could send you to the chair. Get rid of everything.

I'll expect to find my money Tuesday morning.

Before I left to take the box to the courier's I took the precaution of fixing Graham better. I added a handcuff to his foot, chaining that to the leg of the stove. I wanted to gag him but then I would have had to hogtie him and I knew that he could easily suffocate in an effective gag and I didn't want him dying on me unexpectedly.

It was late afternoon, seven o'clock and not yet hinting that it would be getting dark in another hour when I got back to the cabin. Graham was exactly the way I left him. I didn't hear him yelling. He was being smart. When he heard the car drive up he knew it had to be me and didn't start shrieking crazily for help.

So I came in and looked my hostage over again. In a way I was just a bit disappointed that he was being docile because I wanted to be mean. But all the same it was better if he was a lamb going to slaughter. His voice was certainly meek when he said. "I need to use the toilet."

"Okay." I said and I undid the handcuffs. There was a chemical toilet standing in the open in the corner. I'd provided that, another expense. But I wasn't going to put up with the smell of his shit in the cabin or risk taking him out to the outhouse. I stood right beside him while he used the chemical toilet. I got to see his cock and I smirked. It was pale. It wasn't darkened like an older guy's cock would have. He wasn't circumcised. Now I prefer a circumcised cock and I got the evil idea of taking a souvenir from my first abduction. Nasty. But I didn't tell the kid what I was thinking. He peed with his eyes closed trying to pretend I wasn't standing there staring.

When that was taken care of he wanted to try dialogue again. He started timidly. "My mother will pay a ransom for me. I'm sure she will."

"That's good." I steered him back to the wood stove and hooked him up by the wrist again.

"Only it'll take her a little while to get it. She'll have to get a mortgage or something. But I know she'll get it. I'm sure she'd pay you anything."

"You're lucky to have a mother like that."

"Yeah," he agreed. "How much did you want? I mean you sent somebody a note, right?" I nodded. "How much did you ask for?"

"A hundred thousand."

He gave a hopeful smile. "My Dad already owes her more than that in support payments. She's got to be able to get enough money for you. I know she'll try."

"Your Dad, he's a deadbeat?" I asked.

"No. He just… He likes to quarrel, you know. He doesn't like to be made to do anything. But she'll get money for you, I promise she will."

I nodded and smiled in a friendly way. "That's great, kid. I hope you get to go home soon."

I'd picked up hoagies on the way back. Two of them. Now I can ordinarily eat two but I was meaning right then to give one of them to Graham anyway. I started to get the food out and Graham kept his eyes on me and kept chattering.

"We're not really rich you know. I'm real glad what you want is a hundred thousand. She could never put together a million or something like that. But if she sells our house she could get a hundred thousand. You probably think I'm rich because of going to that school."

I glanced over. "I think you're a fucking unlucky kid."

He coloured. "Well, we do have enough money to get by, I mean we were supposed to be getting a pool put in this summer if my Mammy could swing it. But my school fees do make it hard for her. We're not as rich as all that."

I gave him the hoagie.

"Oh, thanks, Sir."

It amused me to look at him. He was chattering like he was a younger kid than he was, and I thought that was probably stress making him regress being scared and nervous. He had to have led a pretty protected life if my killing the cat had made him freak like that.

"Having money, stuff, the nintendo and sneakers… It's not so great as all that." he said. "I mean it's only stuff. I guess stuff is important to you. I guess you need it. But when my parents buy me stuff it doesn't make life so wonderful. I'd rather have a couple of good friends at school than any kind of presents, you know? I'm not a snobby rich brat. You probably think I am. But I'm not a rotten person like that, really."

He was trying to convince me not to hate him. I ate my hoagie and let his words flow over me. I let my eyes rest on him, the round thin shoulders. He was real easy on the eyes. It occurred to me idly that I could get him to seduce me. If I hinted that I'd let him live if he let me fuck him, he would probably swallow his terror down and try it. That kid really wanted to live.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't worry. It's not your money brought you here. I don't hate you because of your money. You're a dumb kid.You don't deserve what's happening to you. It's too bad you had to get into a situation like this."

Then afterwards I left him alone and went out of the cabin. For one thing, I still didn't want to start mucking with him and with him being cooperative like that it was getting tempting. So I gave the kid some space. I knew if I started mucking with him I'd get cruel and things could escalate. No. I was going to stick to plan. I could hold off on getting my fuck for a few more days.

The other thing was I wanted to get some exercise. It wasn't likely I'd want a fire in the wood stove but I got out an axe and went back of the cabin and started splitting wood. That was a good work out and kept me busy. There was a full cord out there and a shed to put it in. I'd taken it out of the shed with the idea that I might store the kid in there or the kid's corpse in there, but it was good and dry and seasoned just right. I pounded away, breaking the round billets into blond wedges and enjoying the rich smell of the resins that rose up to me. I made a great stack of wood more than what I would need to keep a fire going through the night. I was at work for a little longer than half an hour.

When I walked around to the front of the cabin the door stood open. All the blood in my pumped up body rose into my head in a great thumping wave. Three steps took me inside where I could see the handcuff dangling from the stove with an empty bracelet.

Shit! Shit! Shit! He was gone. My first impulse was to run like hell myself. I threw myself out of the door snarling in rage.The little shit had escaped. He was nowhere in sight. Arrest, jail… Then I realised that the kid was all but naked, barefoot and on a four mile [6½ km] long road in the middle of nowhere. It was real simple. If he took to the woods he'd get lost and die. If he stayed on the road I could catch him.

Probably it would have been smarter to take the car. But I had the idea that he would hear the car engine behind him and throw himself into the trees and hide if I took the car and that way I could miss him. I set off running down the dirt road on foot. I run well. In a sprint I make most quick footed guys falter. I can run a lot faster than a barefooted boy.

He was a quarter of a mile [400 m] ahead of me on the road, no more. I didn't see a pale bare back like I expected, I saw a wine red hump. He had snatched a sleeping bag off of one of the beds and was running ahead wrapped in that. I was gasping with anger. I was almost blind with anger. That's what the instant of fear had done to me. I didn't lose any of that anger as I ran. My bulging eyeballs were hot with rage. If I had remembered the gun in my jacket, I'd have had it out and blown a hole in his back when I was ten feet behind him. But I didn't remember the gun so I came after him with my fists.

He looked back once. He ran pretty fast. He was terrified. He stuck to the road almost to the very end. He only left the road when I was a few yards behind him and so when I crashed into him we were in the short growth of bushes and tall weeds on the edge of the woods. I didn't grapple, I just ran into him with all my weight and knocked him down. We both fell, ripping through twigs and plants, five feet from where our bodies had impacted. He landed on his face, pinned under my chest and I roared, "Little cunt!" When I raised my fists in the air he struggled. He wriggled frantically over onto his back. I had just enough self control left not to smash my fists into his face or I'd have broken every bone he had there. I slammed my punches into the ground on either side of his head.

"You fucking, shit-licking little cunt!" Shuddering with rage I clenched on him and dragged him to his feet. I clamped one hand over his gaping mouth and the other around his forearm. I made him walk. With my body I crowded him forward and made him get back on the road. We didn't run back but something near it. I kicked the trailing sleeping bag free and pressed us hurriedly back to the cabin. I was panting with fury more than panting from the exertion from the run although I had given it every thing I had got. He was panting too, long squeaky breaths. His back kept colliding with my chest as I forced him onwards. He didn't resist at all or scream for help so my grip loosened on his mouth. He was struggling for air. I wouldn't let him buckle.

"You're going to die for this." I panted. "I'm going to kill you, I'm going to make you scream. You shit-licking baby asshole! Oh, you shit, You're going to pay!"

I got him back to the cabin, still half insane with rage. I tossed him inside. He bounced across the room into the furniture as I turned and bolted and locked the door. He was just flopped on the floor when I turned around, eyes turned up dark and huge and agonized.

"You cunt." I grated. I picked him up again and flung him face down on the bed. I'd promised to beat him if he made an attempt to escape. Well, he'd made an attempt to escape, such a good one that he hadn't merely been an irritation. He'd nearly done it. So I was going to beat him. I was going to whip him until my arms were too tired to whip him any more.

I took my belt off, yanking it furiously out of the loops. I caught the elastic of his underpants and skinned them down. I'd never seen a prettier ass, two perfect round muscles, tender and male. But I never hit him on the ass with my belt.

He wasn't fighting me. It wasn't that. It was that one intent got confused with the other. I pulled my belt off and his little white underpants off and then I dropped my own pants. I hadn't noticed it with the fury in me, but I was as horny as hell. Chasing him had given me a boner so hard that it ached. Somewhere in stripping him to whip him I wound up stripping him to fuck him.

His ass was tight when I grabbed it. He was scared, cringing away so every muscle in his body was tight with fear. I squeezed. The anger was dropping away from me as I realised that I was going to finally fuck his virginal little ass.

I took him by the thighs and hauled him up so he was on all fours, rump way up in the air. I leaned forward and stuck my tongue into the crack of his ass. He squealed and gave a great flinching tug, pulling away from me. He had a gorgeous clean little asshole. It was tight and sweet. I opened him up so I could see it as I licked, the white flesh and the hairless balls dangling below. I licked his balls and asshole and Graham squirmed and moaned.

"Please… please… please…" He begged me to stop. He knew what I was doing. He understood. He wasn't as green as all that. But what a sweet little piece of ass he was! I ran my hands hungrily over his body, savouring the smoothness, the smallness of the ribcage below me. I must have outweighed him by eighty pounds [35 kg]. I licked my thumb and stabbed it into his asshole to try him out and test how tight he was. He gave a shrill sound and kicked. He looked over his shoulder back at me, frantic and big eyed with fear. My thumb hurt him. He was unbelievably tight. I took his balls in my fingers and kneaded them while I fucked him with my thumb.

No question but he was clean, a virgin. Normally I never touch a partner without using a rubber but with this kid it wouldn't matter if I did or not. The thought of fucking him bare made me hornier than ever.

I let go of him when I pulled my thumb out and he got his head and shoulders off the bed trying to crawl away. I dragged him back.I forced him into position, thighs wide, the tip of my cock against his tiny hole. It was so small I didn't know how I'd get it inside. When I pushed it didn't yield. It pushed his whole body forward.

I stuck his head and shoulders up against the wall at the head of the bed. Then I could hold him steady. His breathing was agonized and laboured. His asshole yielded. I felt my cock slip in inch by tight inch. I didn't use lubricant. I was going to fuck him dry. He shrieked. His arms and legs flailed as he writhed with pain.

"No. No! Ahhhhh! Get it out!" He begged me. Then I started thrusting and he shrieked again.

His smooth back was against my belly. I ripped my shirt open so I could feel it. I could breath onto the back of his neck and I did. I clutched the shuddering gasping boy tight underneath me and hammered him. Piteous wails came out of him. "Ohhhh! No! Hurts! Please!" Then I started kissing and sucking on his neck and cheek, wherever I could reach him. He turned his face away from my mouth. He stopped begging for mercy. He knew he wouldn't get any mercy from me. I rammed it into him again and again. Now I was grunting with the effort. He was starting to get wet. Slowly his asshole loosened as the muscle weakened and went slack under the brutal pounding I gave it. Even when he widened he had a tight little hole.

I pulled him off the bed. I fucked him standing. He would have fallen. I made him stand, yanking him angrily into position, making him put his arms on the bed so that he could stand doubled over. He stopped struggling and obeyed me, quivering and moaning with pain. My hands came down and I took his little soft cock and I played with that. I squeezed. I was rough, kneading and then pulling, yanking on the sensitive organ. I took his balls into the same grip and squeezed them together. He vibrated with pain underneath me. He was so helpless. He couldn't even close his legs and try to shield his little genitals from my invasive hands.

When I was close to cumming I stepped back and picked up his thighs. I lifted him up like that, dumping his face into the bed, into the blood where I'd shot the cat. I turned him half upside down and pounded into him harder and harder and deeper and deeper. He was screaming again, face in the mattress. I shot a flood of cum. It came pulsing out of me jetting deep into ass.

I pitched him onto the bed when I was done. His two hands came down and clasped his asshole. His eyes were fear bright, glittering with tears. When he saw my cock, sticking up, still rampant and red, he brought his hands back up again and looked at them. He stared in horror at the blood where I'd torn him. I stood grinning, face aching with the grin, feeling like I'd throw up, not knowing if I wanted to kill him or let him go. I stared at the thoroughly fucked boy. He gave a sob. He had realised that he was lying in blood, smeared with blood and was bleeding a steady red trickle from his ass and he was horrified and disgusted.

Slowly I advanced again. He cringed against the wall. I crawled over him and pried his hands away and his legs open. I fingered the hole, poking and looking. It still gaped, but it was closing. Red patched his thighs.

He made no sound, staring at me. He didn't plead again or sob any more. His chest was expanding huge and sinking again as he sucked in great gulping breaths but he didn't move. I fingered him slowly and curiously examining what I'd done. I'd torn him. I known that of course when I'd felt the fucking get wet.

Now my cum was inside him. That was what I was thinking. And if he got loose again or they examined his body any time soon they could get dna evidence to convict me. So as much as I had wanted to shoot my cum into his ass before, now I wanted it out again. But cleaning out a kid's tight bruised asshole? I didn't have a way of cleaning him out. I could ram a dishmop up or something, I supposed but that wouldn't do a certain job of getting rid of all the evidence. It would be okay in a few hours anyway. After a few hours it would dissolve.

I let go of him and stood back. "Graham." I ordered. "Stand up."

He drew himself up off the bed and stood, but he had to hold the wall for support. With trembling bending legs he stood and gazed at me sick faced.

I pointed. "Go to the water, over there in the jug, see? Get a rag and wet it and bring it back."

Shaking, he obeyed me. He found the cloth and brought it back. I steered him so he sat on the bed. I stood between his legs. "Wash my cock." I ordered him.

He bit his lips. His shoulders were hunched. He wiped with just the edge of the rag, delicately and reluctantly. He was afraid of my cock. Slowly my organ sagged. His careful, hesitant touch felt very good. While he worked he was bug eyed, like he was staring at a monster.

When I decided he'd done a good enough job I took the rag out of his hands. I pushed him onto his back on the bed and I parted his legs and raised his knees. He covered his face with his arms. He didn't try to close his legs but the muscles of his slender calves were rock hard with his fear and tension. I didn't hurt him, I wiped the blood and muck off of him.

"Hurt, didn't it?" I asked softly as I worked.

He nodded hard behind his arms. He didn't uncover his face.

"I told you I'd punish you." I said. "I did that because you ran away."

His hands moved aside abruptly. "Please! Don't hurt me like that again! I'll never, ever make you angry again! Don't hurt me like that again!"

I lifted his balls and ran the rag around them. "I warned you. Now it's too late. It doesn't make much difference to me, you see. Conviction on one count of aggravated sexual assault would net me about four years. Conviction on another count would amount to maybe only a month more."

He whimpered because he understood what I was saying.

"I wasn't going to fuck you." I said. "But now that I have, it doesn't much matter if I do it again."

"Please. I'll do anything." he whispered.

"I know." I said. "I know.

He'd gotten out of the handcuff just by pulling out. He had such skinny hands you see; they weren't much wider than his wrists. I'd thought he was a real no guts kid but when I looked at him I saw that the skin was gone on the back of his hand, scraped away raw when he'd forced the bracelet down to his fingers and I knew that could only have been done slowly with a steady push and silently or I'd have heard him while I worked outside.

I couldn't handcuff him again, that was for sure. No problem though. I could have used the cuffs to fix him by his foot again and that would have done. But I didn't fix him like that overnight. Something perverse made me decide to sleep in the bed where I'd killed the cat and not in the clean bed. I made Graham lie down in the cat's blood and I lay down with him. He lay rigid and straight. I lay on my side with my arm thrown across his chest and my knee over his legs. He didn't dare to try to move all night.

In the morning Harish got his package. The courier guaranteed nine am delivery. It was before nine am when I was up and getting restless. Graham still lay on the bed under the sleeping bag. He was waiting for permission to get up maybe. He was awake and he kept checking out my crotch with his eyes. That was amusing.

I rummaged through my box of supplies and found a little packet of presweetened cereal. I tossed the box to the kid. "Here. Breakfast." He made the catch although I took him by surprise and he sat up and ate it dry. He kept the sleeping bag tucked up to his chin though.

When he finished eating he said. "May I talk again, Mr. Nolan?"

"Sure." I said. Maybe his chatter would quell some of my restlessness. "Go ahead."

"What are you going to spend the ransom money on?" he asked.

I stared at him. I was surprised by the question. I didn't tell him.

"Do you need it for drugs?"

I gave a laugh. "Yeah! How did you know that? No." I shook myhead. "It's not for drugs. Money can buy happiness, you see. I want to buy a little happiness with it."

"You don't want to buy drugs with it?" I'd confused him.

"No." I told him. "Drugs are a waste of a life. What I want to buy with it, maybe that's just as bad but I wouldn't spend it on drugs."

"When you get the money…"

"If I get the money." I corrected.

"If you get the money," he said. "Are you going to… What are you going to do then? You will stop hurting me, won't you?"

I looked at him thoughtfully. "It's time you learned something, kid." I said. "And you have begun to learn it already. The world is a very shitty place. I'm a pretty shitty person. And your father is really a pretty shitty person and your mother is really a pretty shitty person, whatever you may think and you are a pretty shitty person. Because we all are."

I grinned crookedly."You must think I'm the most shitty person in the world after what I've done to you. I've told you I won't kill you, that I'm going to let you go. But you've heard about lots of kids who turned up raped and murdered and you're probably thinking you might turn up raped and murdered too, right?"

Graham nodded. He was staring mesmerised. "Your father is thinking you're going to turn up raped and murdered and your mother is wondering if you're going to turn up raped and murdered. No matter what I tell you, I've already done the raping bit and you know that if I have to choose between going to prison or strangling you, I'm not going to go to prison."

He didn't look any scareder with me saying it out in the open like that. He was looking solemn.

"The way I see it, the best we can do in life is limit the damage we do to other people." I told him. "So yes, I'm going to hurt you. Because of the situation you are in, I can guarantee that you are going to get hurt more. But if I can get out of this situation without killing you, that's what I'm going to do. That is what I would prefer to do, that is what I'm hoping to do. I really want you to live, kid. You probably can't imagine how much."

"But…" he whispered.

"But what?"

"But you like hurting me." said Graham.

"No." I said. "I like fucking you. I don't like hurting boys but I can't have one without the other. Because of your age, because you're just a kid, you're too young for fucking. But that's what I like. I like fucking boys."

"You're a homosexual man, then?" he suggested hesitantly.

"No." I said. "Gay guys don't like fucking boys and straight men don't like fucking little girls. I'm what they call a pedophile or a pederast. I like boys, but after they finish puberty, when you finish growing up I won't want to have sex with you any more. I only like boys before they finish growing up."

He looked down at himself. Only he was covered up with the sleeping bag so he didn't see very much. "I don't understand why you'd like it." he said. "I thought you did it because it really hurt me. I thought you did it because you couldn't think of anything worse to do to me."

"Yeah." I said. "Well, it gets mixed up. Down at the bus station there are boy hookers, little guys your age who sell it. So I go down there usually, when I can and I buy it. But it's a crime to buy it. You understand? People say it's evil, it's statutory rape even if the kid comes after me, begging me to buy him. So it gets mixed up. I get to thinking, well, I'm the evil kind of a guy who wants to do horrible things to teenaged boys. I must be evil. Everybody hates a pedophile. I'm a pedophile. I must want to do evil things. You understand at all?"

"You hurt the boys down at the bus station?" He had his arms wrapped around himself under the sleeping bag.

"No. They know me. They come over when they see me. They want me to pick me up and I treat them good." I paused. He was listening so closely that I went on.

"There's one boy there. He's so pretty. He's a lot prettier than you are. Hispanic. He's got this gorgeous brown skin and dark eyes and eyebrows." I gestured at my own face. "And I'm in love with that kid. He's a hooker. Not a runaway. He does it because he wants the money. He wants it for crack. Most beautiful kid in the world. You know what I'm going to do with your father's money? I'm going to try to buy that kid. Because I love him. I'm going to try to get him to come with me, to live with me. And he will, because with a hundred thousand dollars I can keep him in crack. I have this idea that if I do that, if he sees how much I want him, what I'm willing to do to have him, then he's going to be so impressed with that, that he's going to go into detox. I'm hoping that he'll get off the crack and in return he's going to start loving me. But he won't. With hookers, with addicts it's not like that. They stay on the stuff. And they don't really like the johns. Any time he could rip me off he would. And so the best I'll get is him living with me for a few years. You know what? After maybe three years he'll have grown up some, and then he'll hate me more, he'll think, I'm just this queer asshole and he doesn't have to fuck to get his money, put up with what I like. And I won't want him any more either. He'll be too old for me you see. He'll have changed."

We sat staring at each other. He didn't laugh. Probably he didn't dare to laugh. He said. "You're in love with a boy, really?"

"Yes."

"He does it for the crack."

"Yes. Have you ever done crack?"

"No." said Graham. He didn't understand my question. "I couldn't do it, let someone do what you did to me. I don't even ever want to try crack."

"Could you ever fuck for money?"

"No."

"Would you let a guy fuck you for a hundred thousand dollars?"

"No!"

"A hundred thousand dollars is what you figure your mother could mortgage your house for." I said. "Would you let a guy fuck you for a hundred thousand dollars if it meant your mother wouldn't lose her house? She'll be real distressed if she loses her house."

He hesitated a long time. When he spoke his voice sounded surprised. "Yes." he said.

I took Graham outside with me later that day and I handcuffed him by the wrist again to a tree. But I put him where I could see him. I had him sit outside in the warm sun, hunched up in the sleeping bag while I went on with reducing the woodpile. I made him watch me. It didn't feel unpleasant to have his eyes on me as I worked. The light was very yellow and the leaves were very green. It was almost June. I took my shirt off and the sun sizzled the sweat comfortably on my back and shoulders. Graham lay down and the sleeping bag fell down where his arm was stretched towards the tree so we both had bare arms and shoulders in the sun. But his skin was fair. I don't think he had ever tanned it.

At lunch time I took him in. I uncuffed him from the tree and I scooped him up in my arms, sleeping bag and all. He went stiff, with his arms flung wide and then he looked up at me anxiously but I only looked down at him and carried him into the house. I put him on the bed.

"Lunch first." I said "and then we go on with your education."

There wasn't much left to eat. I needed to make a grocery run.That was an oversight. I should have stocked up more carefully. I gave him a can of pasta to eat with a fork to eat it out of the can. I sat and watched him eat it. He gave me a little smile."Thanks, Mr. Nolan." He was a very polite kid.

When he finished eating I took the can away from him and I said, "Get out of the sleeping bag."

He started looking anxious again but he got out of it.

"Sit on the edge of the bed."

He sat there with his knees pressed tightly together and his fists crushed together on his knees in front of his crotch. I stood in front of his knees and I unzipped.

Fear. He looked at my swelling cock, frozen.

"Look at it."I said. "It's not very big, is it? Guys, they like to make out that they've got ten or twelve inch [25-30 cm] cocks when they're erect but most of them are just about seven inches [18 cm]. It's seven inches long. Touch it."

He didn't touch it.

"Go on. Use your hand or your lips." He looked up at me hurriedly to see if I'd really suggested he use his mouth and he used his hand. He touched the head of my cock with a swift fingertip.

"Take it in your hand."

He took it and curled his hand around it.

"This counts as sexual assault." I told him. "Me getting you to put your hand on my prick. What does it feel like?"

"I don't know." said Graham.

"I'm going to make you suck me off." I said.

"I don't want to." His voice trembled.

"I know, but your alternative is taking it up the ass again."

"I'll do it." he said hurriedly.

I didn't want to smile, but I did. He didn't start sucking. He kept on holding it with a motionless lightly closed hand. He didn't start doing anything.

I reached down and touched his cheek. I caressed the side of his face. "Open your mouth." I said gently, "Make it round. Now lick your lips. Make your lips wet."

When he opened his mouth I smelt faintly the sweet odour of the tomato sauce from the pasta he had just eaten.

"Now put your mouth just on the end of it and suck."

"But it's been in my bottom!" he protested.

"You washed it, remember?"

He gave me a last unhappy look and bent his head forward. I closed my eyes when I felt his warm lips. "Slide." I breathed. "Up and down. Suck." I used my knuckles to stroke the side of his faceas he bobbed. I gave him exact directions how to give a good blowjob so he did that. I even made him stop and told him how to flicker his tongue on the edge of the frenum to send the vibrations through me. He did it exactly what I pleased. I could not stop smiling. I kept smiling down on him and I saw that he kept trying to look up.

"I'm going to teach you how to deep throat." I said. I put my hand in his hair taking the back of his head in a gentle grip."Stretch out your neck. You have to have your throat straight to do this."

He gagged, of course, prodigiously. He was already nauseated by what he was doing. His throat closed up and he made muffled noises. I kept in control of his head and he had the wit to keep his teeth pulled well back even while he was gagging. But he started to turn purple so I pulled it out of his throat and let go of him. His throat worked. He had a dazed look while he gasped for air.

"You okay?" I asked.

Graham nodded.

"Then you'd better put it back in your mouth again because I want to cum."

He went back to it with disciplined fervour. I didn't tell him what to do but he surprised me by being able to follow through on the lesson I'd given him. He really had picked the idea up and was trying hard to do it like I told him. Any distaste he had for what he was doing was concealed by the energy he went at it with. He licked, tongued and sucked swirling wetly up and down. He made his mouth tight and flicked his tongue up and down and he bobbed up and down like crazy. I started to pant.

In a few minutes I caught his face and held it still at the top of his stroke. My cock gave a throb that I felt to the base of my spine and the hot sperm spurted out. I shot into his mouth onto his tongue. He couldn't gasp but his nostrils flared and then some of the cum leaked and his mouth worked to try to keep it from spilling. His mouth was full of my salty strong spunky cum. He gulped. Graham swallowed it.

When I let go of him he brought his fingers up to his mouth trying to catch the cum that had leaked. He looked up at me worriedly to see if he had pleased me. My voice was thick. "You did that good."

"I had a coach told me that when I had to do a thing, especially if it was something I was afraid to do I should try to do it as hard as I could." He smiled hopefully. "He said, just rush at it and do it and use my momentum."

"Good coach." I commented.

I started to strip then so the worried look never quite left his face. His mouth was round and even babyish looking. "For the rest of your life." I told him, "Guys are going to keep trying to make you do that, literally and figuratively."

"What does liter… mean?"

"It means," I dropped my shirt to the floor. "Men will really want you to bend over and suck cock and men will want to make you do things like suck cock. They will want to have power over you, control you, be cruel to you for the sake of being cruel, just to prove they can get away with it. That's what life is like. I want you to know that. That's all people ever really want."

When my clothes were off I pushed Graham over and lay on the bed beside him. He kept smiling awkwardly. I wrapped my arms around him and we lay naked. With his head on my shoulder his feet didn't reach down nearly as far as mine. Lightly I clasped him and started to stroke him.

"Do you have to put it inside me again?"

"No." I reassured him. "I'm done for now. I just want to enjoy some skin contact."

"Okay." He shifted slightly, noticeably relaxing more. "You like this? Like, almost like hugging me?"

"Yeah." I agreed. I ran my hands idly up and down his tender skin, exploring the hollows of his back, finding the firm places where his bones were near the skin and the soft places where undeveloped muscle tissue was fragile in my hands.

"Should I do something?"

"It's okay." I said.

He lay still for me, not flinching at all but patiently taking my touching. His eyes went to my cock, now getting flaccid and the limpness of the organ reassured him. His eyes also went to the puckered pink scar on my side. He looked curious. After a little while he ventured another question. "What's that."

"I got shot during a Credit Union hold-up." I explained.

His face puckered again. "What was it like? I mean, was it bad?"

"Yeah." I agreed mildly. "Very bad."

"Will getting shot hurt worse than what you did to me?"

"Getting shot hurts a lot worse than getting butt fucked does, but it's a different kind of pain." I told Graham. "You don't feel damage inside you as much as damage to your skin. A bullet inside… I remember it made me feel sickish. There was a lot of pain, but I passed out pretty quick anyway. It didn't hurt for very long."

Then because of the way he'd phrased his question I said, "Getting shot doesn't always hurt. It's painless if you get killed cleanly. I don't want to shoot you. Don't keep worrying about that."

He reached up and stroked my arm the way I was stroking him.He smiled timidly. "Did you go to jail?"

I flung my head back and laughed. I shook with laughing and grinned at him. "Kid," I said. "I'm a police officer."

A look of total incomprehension and amazement came onto his face. I couldn't help laughing. "It's true." I explained. "I get three weeks vacation and your Dad…" I stopped. "Well, anyway, I decided I'd use my three weeks vacation to kidnap you."

"How could you do things like this?" He was still bewildered."If you're a cop? You're supposed to arrest people who do things like this."

"Kid," I said. "Is there any reason why a bad man, if he didn't have a criminal record, couldn't go to police school and become an officer? You've heard about crooked cops on the take to organized crime on tv, haven't you?"

The bewilderment cleared from his face."I guess. I didn't think."

I pulled him closer, all that soft warm skin and petted him some more. I could feel his little cock, soft and bendable crushed up against my leg. His breath was moist against my chest. I didn't want to get up so I just lay there savouring his sweet body as the morning slid away.

I won't say I didn't play with Graham again because I did.What was the difference? But I didn't fuck his ass again. I wanted to. I put my cock up against his asshole that evening and he was trembling so bad, making a little miserable snivelling noise that I hesitated.

"I'll suck it! I'll suck it!" He whirled around and grabbed for my cock. "Oh, please, please, Mr. Nolan. Let me suck it." So I let him suck it again. It was kind of nice having him cooperate like that. Later on when the cabin was dark I played with his cock. I made him lie back and I peeled the foreskin back and I rubbed it. I wanted to give him a stiffie. I could take his small cock and balls both into my mouth at the same time and I did that lapping gently and drawing insistently. He got a bit of a hard on. That was all he got, a bit of a one, not as much as he could have got playing with himself if I wasn't there.

"You scared, kid?" I asked him.

He just nodded.

"I won't bite you."

He smiled weakly. I played with his cock quite awhile but I never got anything I could use.

"My Mammy might be able to borrow some money for you." he said. "How long does it take to get a bank loan? Do you know that?"

"Few days, usually."

"So I'll be here a few days?"

"I dunno, Graham." I stroked his short soft hair, silky on his hard scalp. I never meant to be touching him like that, patting him and petting him. I never meant to be talking to him either, but the things I said, all that philosophical stuff to try to toughen him up, make him realise how shitty life really is! I guess I was trying to forewarn him what I was going to do to him. But even at that point I wasn't a hundred percent sure if I'd do it or not.

"Do you want to sleep with me in the bed like this?" he asked."Isn't it cramped? You could handcuff me to the other bed instead, Mr. Nolan."

"There's only one sleeping bag." I said. "You left the other one out in the woods some place, remember? You'd rather sleep naked and uncovered and chained than sleep with me?"

"I don't mind sleeping like this. If you want to sleep like this." he said quickly. "Whatever you like. I'll do anything you like."

Next morning, Tuesday morning he laid his head on my lap and sucked me while I beat myself off. I think I bruised his mouth a little banging it with the top of my fist while I jerked away with his mouth on the head of my cock.

"You do that so hard." said Graham. "Doesn't it hurt?"

I laughed again. "The harder I do things the better they feel." I told him. I got dressed smiling back at him. He sat on the bed. He was looked tired and strained but he kept trying to meet my eyes and smiling to try to make me smile. When I was dressed I crossed to the bed and got the handcuffs out. He got the scared look again as I hooked them over his feet. I carried him to the wood stove and set him down on the floor. I chained him by both feet facing the stove.

"I've got to go some place for a couple of hours." I told him."I'm going to leave you like that. I'm coming back."

"Could I have my shorts back? Please?"

"Too late now. I couldn't get them on you with the handcuffs like that." I ran my hand down the silken length of his back."Wait. Don't worry."

I said a couple of hours but I was gone longer than that. First I drove, more than two hours into the city and I dropped into the police station, to work at city hall to see what was going on. Nothing was going on, a few drug stakeouts but that was it.

So then I went down to the bus station and I wandered through glancing at all the travellers with their suitcases and indigents with scruffy filthy hair and shopping carts. The boys were outside. In daylight they weren't very visible. I never saw Nico. But the skinny blond seventeen year old who had the needle tracks was there, cruising inside the building and he flashed me a grin. I acknowledged him with a nod and went on. For once it wasn't just a boy that I was looking for. I went to the magazine store and I browsed along the rack. In the sports section at the very end, under the golfing magazines, the key was in the bottom of the rack where it was supposed to be. I fished it out. I bought a magazine as well.

Harish had left something for me. There was a pale blue zippered backpack in the locker. On the backpack was an envelope, placed prominently visible. There was nothing written on the envelope. I picked it up and the backpack and took them to my car.

I looked in the backpack first. It was more important. Harish had come through. Money. Thick soft packets of money. Then I opened up the envelope and found a note.

He'd written it in his own handwriting and I could hardly read it at first. It was a hasty scribble in pen:

Nolan. Call me. This is very important! There is something I have to ask you. Important! Call me at the number where we talked before. Call me anytime. I need you to talk to me. This is the number again in case you lost it.

I didn't call him. I didn't need to call him now. I had the money. It couldn't have been all that important or he'd have withheld the money to get me to call him. I had the money. That was the main thing. I had it safe. Mine.

When I went in Graham was asleep. He was stretched out on his back on the sunny floorboards with his legs chained wide, his head turned to one side and his fingers in his mouth. "Graham." I nudged him with my foot. He startled awake and drew small.

"Lunch, you lucky boy." I squatted down on the floor facing him and we ate together.

"I didn't yell or anything while you were gone, Mr. Nolan." he said.

"That's good." I liked to watch him eat. I liked to see him chewing down the food hungrily. This time I'd brought him a hamburger and fries and if it was a little cold he didn't say so. Kids need to eat a lot at that age, I guess.

"Listen." I said. "Remember I told you if you tried to escape I'd do something real bad to you, and you did try to escape so I raped you? I'm going to say that again. I'm going to take you someplace. There might be people around. You might think you have a chance to yell or to wriggle free. But if you try that I'm going to hurt you again. This time I'm going to hurt you worse than the last."

He turned scared again. He went pale and hunched. "I won't try nothing, honest." He said.

I reached between his wide vulnerable legs. I stubbed my finger against his asshole and took his balls in my palm, tight without crushing. "I'll hurt you so bad you think being raped was nothing compared to this."

"No!!" He turned his horror struck eyes at me. "I promise I'll be good!"

"Then I won't need to hurt you." I said. What I didn't tell him was I'd made up my mind that if I could, I was going to hurt him as badly as I'd just said, no matter what he did.

I uncuffed his feet and brought out clothes. I had a pair of sweat pants for him and I put him in his old shoes which I still had and a t-shirt of mine. Then he could pass for normal if anyone saw him.

I made him sit on the bed while I loaded the car. That only took awhile. Most of the stuff either came with the cabin or I abandoned it. I had to put him in the back seat again on account of the safety locks there. I would have rather had him in the fron tseat with me where I could have copped a feel when I liked, but I wanted to take him far from the cabin and that required being careful. So I watched him through the mirror and I drove and he sat docilely in the back and looked out the windows and stared at me in the mirror.

"I've been thinking about death." he said. "What it must like to be dead. Or dying. I keep wondering what it feels like to be dying."

"It must feel pretty bad." I said.

"I don't know." He said. "It's being scared. I think being scared would be what made dying feel bad. I mean I'm going to die sometime. Definitely. And it doesn't have to hurt. You said so. Does it matter when you die, if you're going to die sometime anyway? And if you're not scared do you think dying would feel so bad?"

"I don't know." I said.

"I don't think I'd mind dying so much." he said. Then his voice shook. "But it's my Mammy. I think she might… It's my Mammy. My mom, I mean. But I'm too old to be upset about my Mom."

"Know what I read somewhere?" I said. "There are two things a guy is most likely to say when he dies. One is to yell "Shit" and the other is to call for his mother. It doesn't matter how old he is. Even if his mother's been dead for years. So maybe somewhere needing your mother doesn't change, even when you have grown up."

I really wished I could have him in the front seat so I could cuddle him.

I took him to an empty apartment that I knew of. I was antsy. I was nervous as hell that he'd start yelping or shrieking or something like that. But he didn't do anything, he just let me take him by the arm and bring him on into the building and into the apartment. He didn't pay attention to the people we passed.

Inside it was dusty and dry. There were old wall to wall carpets worn almost bald and almost no furniture. It was about six-thirty in the evening. I was going to call Harish. I figured he'd be home but first there was something I wanted to do. I turned Graham around and I tugged the shirt and sweat pants off. He didn't protest. He was getting used to the way I liked to run my hands over him. He knew I wouldn't listen if he asked me to let him stay dressed. I kissed Graham on the mouth. It was almost time to end it. There was going to be only one last time.

He knelt at my feet. "Like this, Mr. Nolan?"

I brushed his hands away from my crotch and got down with him. I put him on all fours.

"Not like that. I can't bear it like that. God. I can't bear it like that." he begged.

I got behind him anyway and I rubbed my cock up in between histhighs. When I spread his cheeks I saw his asshole with the tear scabbed over, not a virgin's asshole, you could tell at a glance. I ran spit wet fingers up and down his crack and down to his balls. He gave a moan. He thought I would force my fingers inside him.

"Put your thighs together." I said. "Tight."

He closed his legs. I thrust my cock between them, pushing up against his balls and rubbing in and out. It was a new permutation. He didn't understand it until I explained.

"It won't hurt like this, Graham. It won't go inside." I said. I fucked his soft legs, in and out and I looked down at his beautiful back. His pale skin was almost translucent. It curved over and down below me in a perfect arch. That age everything is perfectly proportioned. Every time I pushed, his ass flattened and yielded.

It didn't take me long although I was feeling regret as much as I was feeling horny. I sawed, using spit wet hands in front of him fondling his balls and cock along with the head of my own cock and I wrung the cum out of myself. I must have clutched him too hard when I came because he staggered and his knees gave underneath him. I folded on top of him. My cum spurted onto his belly and into my fingers. Our bodies were moist. The smell of my cum was strong.

I would have liked to have done the next part with him naked but I dressed us both instead. I found an abandoned chair and a broken end table for my equipment and I put him into the chair.

He watched me uncomprehendingly as I put the equipment together. There was a tape machine and a pair of earphones and that stuff. I hooked them up to the phone. Then I went to Graham.

"I'm going to tie you onto the chair," I said. "Because I've got to make a phone call and I don't want you wriggling around or taking off while I'm distracted. I don't want to be interrupted."

I wound the ropes about his wrists and tied them down by his sides and his feet to the legs of the chair. He looked cute sitting there, yellow nylon rope around his bare arms and his middle. I wished I'd thought to get a camera and take pictures of him so I could keep something like that of him after he was gone. It was too late now. I took the earphones and put them on his head.

"I'm going to call your Dad." I said. "I don't want you talking so I'm going to gag you."

"My Dad?" said Graham. "My Dad lives closer but I think my Mammy would be more…"

"It's okay." I cut him off. "I've already been talking to your Dad. But I've got to gag you because its vital that you don't make a sound and let him know you're here." I put a bandanna into his mouth and tied it under the headset behind his head. I only gagged him loosely like that. I didn't want him to choke. So if he tried to he could still make a lot of noise. "It's vital." I repeated. "Don't let your Dad know you can hear."

He looked at me with mute wide eyes, helpless in the gag and the ropes. I turned my back on him. I had to do that. I picked up the handset and dialled.

"Harish?" I said. "It's Nolan. You wanted me to call. What did you want me to call about?"

"I've heard from the cops." He said. "Yeah, the cops know he's gone. They think he ran away. They haven't found the body yet. What did you do with his body? Where is he?"

Graham didn't make a sound behind me. He could hear every word through the headset.

"I had fun with his body. They'll find him in a few more hours. I just didn't want anyone knowing what happened to him straight off." I said.

"But they won't know when he died. And I won't have an alibi.You told me you'd do something so they wouldn't think I was involved." Harish spoke plaintively.

"I did. He's marked."

"What do you mean?"

"I raped him." I said.

Harish paused. "That was my kid!" He protested.

"Yeah." I agreed. "You told me do something so they think you didn't pay me to do it. Make it look like another kind of crime. So I did. I fucked him, his mouth and his ass. I pumped cum inside him, both ends. They'll think he was snatched so he could be raped. What did you think I was going to do? It was your instructions. You knew what I meant."

Harish giggled nervously. "I guess I did."

There was still no sound out of Graham. I didn't hear a murmur behind me at all.

"So don't worry." I said. "How could anybody think you were behind it? You got nothing to worry about and we're square."

"Okay then," said Harish. "If you're sure they'll think you killed him for sex. I guess that's all. Thanks for taking care of it."

"It was a pleasure." I said ironically. "He was the sweetest kid I ever had." I hung up on Harish and then I turned around.

Graham cried hysterically. I untied him and I held him and he cried. He put his forehead against my shoulder and wept unable tostop. I didn't try to make him stop. I was thinking maybe he'd guessed that his father had sent him after me while he was able to be so quiet but it had been entirely will power that had blocked the sound. Now he cried with agony at the betrayal.

"You see." I said. "Everybody in the world is shitty, even the people who you think love you. They're as shitty as I am. It's better that you know. You'll be safer if you know."

A long time later he stopped crying and it was fully dark by then. I gathered the stuff up and led the kid down to the car again. This time I put him in the front seat. He wasn't making any effort to get away. I had to drag him along and get him to stand because he'd gone limp, all strength drained out of him by his pain.

He gave a little broken cry suddenly as I put him into thecar. "Mammy…!" he cried out.

"Yes, I know." I said. I did up his seat belt.

So then I drove through the dark out of the city again. He was sagging over so far that he looked hunchbacked in the dark. He didn't try to look out the windows any more.

"Graham?" I asked him softly. "Put your head on my lap and lie down.

He lay down like that with his head between my belly and the steering wheel and his arms around my waist. Some of the time he slept, most of the time, I think. It was a long drive. I didn't try to talk to him again. I let him sleep or grieve or what ever he was doing.

It was light but it was early when I stopped driving in the morning. He was asleep then. He was confused when he woke up. "Mr. Nolan?"

I went around and got the backpack out of the trunk where I'd stashed it. I slipped the tape of his father's voice into it, that I'd made in the apartment.

"Mr. Nolan? This is Sunbury Mall." Graham said.

"Uh-huh." I nodded. "It's about a mile from where you live with your mother, right?"

"That's right." He stared around himself like he couldn't believe the world still existed. I put the backpack of money into his arms and let him out of the car.

He stood on the sidewalk. He looked just tiny standing on thesidewalk. He looked like a baby too young to make it home on his own. I couldn't believe he would be able to make it home, not emotional, but rationally I knew he'd be alright. I'm not sure he understood I was leaving him there.

Then I turned around and drove back where I'd come from. It took me most of the day to drive back to my own place and I didn't think about Nico once along the way.

The End