It was a week later that Todd’s situation at home came to a head. During that time, he’d been tutoring Geoff. A camera link had been set up on his computer at home so he could connect to the computer Geoff was using in Mr. McCluskey’s office at school. They were able to converse with each other, and Todd was helping Geoff, explaining things the boy didn’t understand in his classes.
Todd was a great help in working through the math problems that Geoff found so perplexing; they solved them together, with Todd showing what steps he used to work them out, how to approach them, how to figure out just what each problem was asking them to discover, and then what strategy to use to wrest it from its hiding place. To Todd’s delight and Geoff’s surprise, the older boy was beginning to get it.
Geoff was now writing papers for English, completing assignments he had simply ignored before, and with Todd’s help, working them into reasonable presentations. Todd had had to be firm in resisting Geoff’s efforts to get him to write them for him, or to write the first few paragraphs just to get him started, or to outline them.
It made it easier for Todd that he felt safe, far away from Geoff when he was standing firm against pleas that he do more of the work for Geoff. Being miles away during these exchanges was very comforting for Todd because Geoff got frustrated easily, and swore up a storm, ranting and raging loudly. Todd simply waited for him to calm down, wondering if Geoff was destroying things in Mr. McCluskey’s office in his anger. When the ranting ceased, he then calmly talked again about the English assignment. He told Geoff how to structure what he wanted to say, and how to get his thoughts together in advance, the basic format schools demanded for essays, and Geoff was beginning to understand what was needed.
The reports going to Mr. McCluskey showed Geoff was beginning to make progress.
Geoff had had to attend to one more bully who’d tripped Todd as he was leaving school one day. He’d done so in a very public and visible manner, and perhaps a little more vigorously than he really needed to, but he knew Todd now as a person. That had been the only incident. Todd was now being left alone.
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At lunch, Todd was eating with Andy every day. Both boys were getting to know each other, but not very rapidly. They spent more time, it seemed, simply taking quick looks at each other and then looking down at their trays. When they managed to speak, they did so mostly looking at anything but each other. They spent much time with red faces, too, but they were getting better at that. Both found it incredible that they could be shy with each other without feeling awkward about it. Andy still blushed more than Todd, and Todd found it, well, he found it made him feel good about himself. Something he hadn’t felt for ages. He saw that someone else was just as shy as he was, and thought that was pretty neat. Maybe he wasn’t such a complete and absolute freak after all. Someone else was like him. He wasn’t alone.
In was at lunch that Andy tentatively asked Todd if he could come to his house after school some day. He stumbled through the invitation but he got it out. Todd froze up, then realized he had to talk or Andy would get the wrong idea. So, he forced himself to answer. Without going into details, he explained he had to go home after school, and that he wasn’t allowed to have school friends over or to go to their houses. He also managed to say, to his surprise, that he was really sorry because he’d like to get to know Andy better, and outside school, too, but he didn’t see how it was possible. He said all this to Andy while, for once, he was looking directly at him.
Andy and Todd spent their gym classes together. The class was still learning basic gymnastics and calisthenics, and they were able to stand next to each other for both the instructions and then in line when they were using equipment. They didn’t talk much, but both took pleasure from just being next to each other, knowing the other was there.
Then, of course, there were the showers afterwards. Both were too shy to enjoy them; they didn’t stand next to each other there. But they both looked. Cautiously and quickly, but often. Neither wanted any of the other guys to see them looking at each other, and especially didn’t want each other aware they were looking. It had been tacitly accepted that they would shower far apart. Both were afraid what might happen if they stood next to each other, but they didn’t tell each other that, either. Heaven forbid! They both took very quick showers and got out as soon as they could.
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Todd was still meeting with Mr. McCluskey. The meetings were much different now. They were short, and were held during Todd’s study hall. Mr. McCluskey was trying to earn the boy’s trust. He was doing it by being friendly, simply chatting with the boy, answering questions as often as asking them. When he did ask questions, he was careful not to ask Todd to tell him things that he now knew would shut the boy down. Although neither of them were aware of it at the time, a mutual respect was being built, and an unexpected bonding of sorts was taking place.
Mr. McCluskey didn’t realize it, but something he said when answering one of Todd’s questions stuck with the boy and was to become very important. It had been when Mr. McCluskey was talking about how he’d come to be doing what he was.
Todd knew these meetings were designed to get him to talk about his life at home. He’d become skilled at ducking and dodging the questions, diverting the conversations so that he was learning more about Mr. McCluskey than the man was learning about him. Both of them recognized what was happening, how Todd was steering what he said away from what was asked, and why, and they both were comfortable with it. Mr. McCluskey figured at some point Todd would open up, that the desire or need to talk to someone would overcome his defensiveness. In the meantime, he talked about what Todd wanted to talk about. Now, he was letting Todd control the conversation, and the boy had asked how long he’d been a vice–principal.
“I’ve been doing this four years now.” He grinned. “Still learning how.”
“You can say that again,” Todd said with feigned sarcasm, and then quickly chuckled to dull any sting from his comment, watching closely at the same time and affecting a cocky smile. He wanted to make sure Mr. McCluskey didn’t take offense. He’d become comfortable enough with Mr. McCluskey by then that he could occasionally and very gently tease the man, as he was doing now. For Todd, doing that had been an amazing step. He realized he was less shy around Mr. McCluskey than he was with almost anyone else in his life, certainly any other adult. He’d begun to trust him.
Mr. McCluskey didn’t take offense. He laughed, a full and hearty laugh. “Yeah, but I am better now than I was at first. When I began, I was really nervous, and very uncomfortable. I’m afraid I didn’t help a lot of kids who needed it back then. But I feel I’m better at it now.”
Todd found this interesting. “What did you do before that?”
Mr. McCluskey pursed his lips, obviously thinking about his answer, then settled back in his chair. “I went to college and got a degree in social work. It was easy to get a job. Jobs for social workers come open all the time. After a few years, most of the people in the profession quit. It’s pretty frustrating work.”
He paused, reflecting on his experiences, then continued. “I liked working with the clients. I just got really fed up with the politics and the way you’re forced to work. Case workers get too many cases to handle so they can’t spend enough time with any one client, and many of the cases require substantial amounts of time if they’re going to be handled correctly. Then, unfortunately, there are many, many reports that have to be written, so many reports that they too cut into the time that can be spent with clients. There just isn’t enough time to do the job well. It’s a thankless, hard, discouraging job. I did it for a few years, but didn’t seem to be making any difference at all.”
He stopped, then looked directly at Todd. “You see, I wanted to help kids, mainly, and I wasn’t doing much of that. I finally decided I might be able to help more of them doing what I’m doing now.”
“So you’ve always wanted to help kids?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have a happy childhood. That’s probably not something we should talk about. But I survived it, and knew when I went to college I wanted to get a degree in something that would allow me to work with and help kids who might be having a hard time like I’d had.”
Todd’s eyes brightened. “Uhhh, what was hard about your childhood?”
Mr. McCluskey laughed. “I knew I shouldn’t have said that. But it’s the truth, and if we’re going to get anywhere, talking to each other, telling the truth is vital. Even when it’s uncomfortable.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“Will you tell me?” Mr. McCluskey responded quietly.
That stopped him. Todd hadn’t said anything more. He’d looked in Mr. McCluskey’s eyes and seen compassion. He’d left his office at that point, needing to get to his next class. But he’d thought about what had been said. All of it. He gave it a lot of thought. And it made a difference.
»»»» 0 ««««
Todd’s relationship with Mr. Thomas had been getting worse. The man was becoming more assertive, making it clear what he wanted from Todd. As the days passed, he had gained confidence that he was free to do as he wished with the boy. He was just waiting for the right time. And then, one evening, he felt, it had come.
It was Todd’s bedtime. He’d just come from his shower and was walking back into his bedroom, wearing only a towel, when he saw Mr. Thomas sitting on his bed. The bedroom door was closed. Todd reacted internally to finding him there, his stomach becoming shaky, his heart beating faster, but after glancing in the man’s direction, he pretended to ignore him, walking instead to his computer. There he hit the switches on it and the monitor. “I’m closing down for the day. All done,” he said. “I’m getting ready for bed now. You can leave.”
He stood up and walked to his dresser, where he pulled out a pair of sleeping shorts.
He was about to drop his towel and put them on, but Mr. Thomas’ presence unnerved him. So still holding the shorts, still wrapped in the towel, he turned to the man. “I’m going to bed. Now leave. Get out.”
Mr. Thomas grinned, a lecherous grin that didn’t reach his eyes, and stood up. “You won’t need those shorts tonight. The time has come, my boy, if I may wax poetic for a moment, for us to stop our seductive dance. Drop the towel and shorts and come over here.” His voice had a different quality to it tonight, one Todd noticed immediately. The subservience was gone. The pretense of being at Todd’s beck and call was gone. The practiced effete weakness was gone.
“What are you talking about?” Todd asked, trying to sound like he was in charge, trying to be dismissive of the man, but unable to keep his growing nervousness entirely out of his voice.
“This can be easy for you, or not. I don’t care which. I like a little rough stuff, especially from a little guy like you who won’t fight back. I’ve watched you long enough. Now I’m going to have what I want. And there’s nothing you can do about it, so you might as well not make a fuss. If you do as you’re told, I won’t even hurt you. I’ll be gentle. I like gentle, too. But either way, I’m going to enjoy it. Don’t bother running or screaming. Your father is all the way across the house, downstairs in his room watching TV. He’d never hear you. And I locked your door, so you’d never get out of here anyway.”
He held up a key, then smiled and dropped it in his pocket.
Todd gulped. He started to back away, but Mr. Thomas took three fast steps over to him and grabbed him by the upper arm. Then he stripped the towel away. He allowed his eyes to roam over the boy, taking in all the details. He smiled, and Todd could see clearly now what his eyes were showing, see the man’s heightening hunger and lust.
Mr. Thomas pulled Todd toward the bed. Todd resisted, but Mr. Thomas was stronger than he appeared, and Todd was at a disadvantage in both height and weight. When they were by the bed, Mr. Thomas literally threw Todd onto it on his back. Then he began undressing.
“You’ll get in trouble. I’ll tell.” Todd was clearly scared now.
“Who’ll believe you? Your father won’t. He doesn’t care at all about you, only about his own reputation. You’re a problem for him, nothing more. He’ll believe me like he always has. I’ve made sure of that, and it’s easier for him that way in any case. My only problem was having to take the time I did making sure he trusted me. I’ve wanted to be doing things with you since I first saw you. You’re my type: young, good looking, sexy, unable to defend yourself and scared. I’m going to enjoy this. Tonight’s the first. There’ll be many other nights.”
Todd was lying on the bed where he’d been thrown, exposed to the man. Mr. Thomas finished undressing and stood next to the bed, nude and aroused. He idly stroked himself while running his eyes over his Todd’s nakedness.
“So, Todd, what’ll it be? Are you going to cooperate so we both enjoy this, or are you going to resist? If you cooperate with me, if you go along with what I want, at the end I’ll use lube and go slowly, and you’ll like that part, too, after getting through the pain at the start. Maybe you’ll find you like it a lot. If you fight me at all, I’ll just take you, and you’ll scream, but that adds to my excitement with a boy like you. I’ve done it both ways with other boys, before this. Tonight, you can decide. I’ll permit you to make the choice how we do it.”
Todd looked at the man, standing above him. His cock seemed disproportionately large for his thin frame; to him it appeared to be huge, and the idea of having it forced into him was truly frightening. The thought of doing anything sexual at all with this man was awful.
In a very shaky voice, he said, “I don’t want to do this, but I don’t want to be hurt. So if you’ll go easy on me, I won’t struggle. You can do whatever you want. I don’t have any choice. I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”
“Good. I want you a little scared. But going along rather than fighting is best. Best by far for you. Now, I’ll get on the bed. Do what I tell you to. You can start out stroking me first.”
Todd rolled away to make room, and Mr. Thomas got on the bed on his back. His erection curled over his stomach. Todd reached for it, and clumsily grasped it. Then he began to move his hand up and down.
“Ah, that’s it. Just do that a while. That’s very good. Good. Now use your other hand and play with my balls.”
Todd had to move so he could reach as directed. No matter where he positioned himself, however, it was awkward to reach over the man with both hands while lying on his side. He tried, then said, “If you open your legs, I can kneel between them and reach you better.”
Mr. Thomas smiled. “You’re getting in the spirit of this! You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?” He took a quick glance and saw Todd wasn’t hard. “Well, in a bit, if you keep me feeling good, I’ll do things to you that you’ll like, too.”
He spread his legs, and Todd got on his knees between them. He moved up so he could reach the man’s genitals. When he was kneeling in place, it took him but a second to put the sole of his left foot on the bed next to Mr. Thomas’ waist for better balance, and then using the extra stability and leverage that provided him and without pausing, he slammed his right knee as hard as he possibly could into the man’s scrotum.
Mr. Thomas screamed and tried to roll into a fetal position, but with Todd still having one leg between his, he couldn’t manage it. Todd drew back and kneed him again, and Mr. Thomas made a sound deep in his throat, an awful groaning, grunting noise.
Todd jumped off the bed, grabbed Mr. Thomas’ trousers and quickly worked the room key out of his pocket. He ran to the door, unlocked it, and ran down the hall to the stairs, down them, then across the entry hall, through the dining room, past the door to the kitchen, to the doorway of his father’s master suite. Without knocking, he yanked the door open and burst into the room.
Mr. Mortensen was sitting on his couch with his back to the door, watching TV. When Todd rushed into the room, he turned his head, then reached for his remote and turned off the TV. He slipped into his robe, then stood and looked at the boy, his face furious.
“What is the meaning of this?” he roared, his face red. “You know you’re never to come in here without permission, and you certainly don’t open the closed door without knocking and being told to enter. Have you completely forgotten yourself?”
Todd’s breathing was coming in gasps, partially the residue of the terror he’d felt only moments ago, and partially from his mad dash through the house. He had trouble speaking, and instead just tried to regain his breath.
“And why are you standing in front of me naked? What on earth is going on here?”
“Mr. Thomas,” Todd was finally able to gasp. “He locked me in my room with him… he threw me naked on the bed… he was going to rape me….” He stopped and took three large breaths. “I kneed him in the balls, then got away and ran here. Don’t let him get me.”
Todd stood, breathing hard and fast, his whole body trembling. His father watched, and his anger seemed to drain from his body. His look softened. When he spoke, however, his voice was hard, as it always was.
“I can hardly believe that. He wouldn’t do that. I think you must be making this up. Is this some trick you’re playing? Because it won’t work, you know. I’ll simply ask him. You’d better go back to your room. You need to put some clothes on. It isn’t right, you standing before me, letting me see you like this. Go back to your room or I’ll call Mr. Thomas to come get you.”
“Dad!” said Todd, and then realizing his father was indeed about to do that, he crumpled to the floor in defeat and began sobbing.
His father watched him, then took a tentative step toward him. It was then that Mr. Thomas entered the room.
He was fully dressed, and was carrying a magazine. “Ah, there he is. I didn’t think he’d come here, but it’s good that he did. You need to hear this, sir, and it’s good we won’t have to go looking for the boy afterwards.
“I came to his room tonight as you’ve asked me to do to make sure he was going to bed on time. When I entered his room, quietly so as not to waken him if he was asleep, I saw him making movements in his bed. I crept in, and I could see something was happening under the covers.”
Todd tried to break in, saying, “He’s making this up!” but his father waved his had dismissively without even turning to look at him and beckoned Mr. Thomas to continue.
“You have given specific instructions that he’s not to masturbate, sir, and that if I ever catch him at it, stop him and tell you. Well, I wasn’t sure, but he was too occupied with what he was doing to notice I was there, so I could get to the head of the bed and grasp the covers and yank them off him. He was naked in bed, hard and playing with himself. He was all red, and I’m sure he was fairly close to orgasm.
“Of course, I told him to stop. He didn’t. He kept pulling on himself. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew what you wanted, sir, so I grabbed his arms to stop him. You can see the mark of my hand still on his arm.”
Todd’s father turned to look, and the red mark of Mr. Thomas’s fingers could be plainly seen on the boy’s thin arm.
Mr. Thomas continued, making his voice sound offended. “He was enraged. He swore at me, saying vile things, and then kicked out at me. His foot hit me in my sensitive area. I let go and dropped to my knees, and he ran from the room, not bothering to dress. When I could, I got up to come tell you. I was in pain and had to walk slowly, but maybe that was good, because, moving slowly, I was able to see this magazine lying tangled in the covers on his bed. I glanced at it on my way here. It’s completely perverted, showing naked teen boys having sex with each other. I don’t know where he got it. I do look through his room daily. He must have a hiding place somewhere. I don’t know what other stuff he might have hidden, but maybe more magazines, perhaps some videos. You and I could perhaps look for his hidey–hole, later after you’ve decided what to do about him. I’m afraid we’ll find he’s got other stuff hidden.”
Todd’s father looked at the boy, still lying on the floor, and then at Mr. Thomas. He turned to Todd. “Well, this story is much different from yours. Why should I believe you?”
Todd had stopped crying and now wiped his tears away with the backs of his hands and stood up. Then without saying a word, he walked past his father deeper into the room. He went to the private bath off the bedroom, found a bath towel, wrapped it around himself, and then returned to where the two men stood waiting.
In a small voice, only rarely meeting his father’s eyes, he spoke. “Why should you believe me, Father? Because I’m your son. That’s why. Because I’m honest, I don’t lie to you, I never have and am not now. I know that isn’t enough, it probably never will be for you, but that’s the answer.”
“You’re right, that’s nowhere near enough.” Mr. Mortensen’s voice was hard and unyielding. “I guess this is it with you. I tried. God knows, I tried. You know what this means then. I’ll see to it tomorrow. Now, go to your room. Mr. Thomas, take him there, please. Stay with him. I don’t want to see him again tonight.”
Mr. Thomas smiled. “Certainly, sir. I’ll make sure he doesn’t disturb you again tonight.”