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Dirty Little Secret

 

By Chris Carr

 

January, 2014

 

 

 

 

 

“You know why I’ve been called, Mr. Myers.”

“Yes, but those charges were dropped.”

“Still, when a report like that is filed…”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Lyons but as you can see, the boys are fine.”

A couple of scantily clad youths busy about the front room, Henri glanced at them, his attention returning to Edward.

“If it’s alright with you, Mr. Myers, I’d like to check on the youth in question in private.”

His shoulders dropping, Edward called Na’im over. Like most of the kids in Edward’s foster home, he’d been shuffled in and out of the system. Small in stature, there was a glint in his eyes that spoke of his year’s abuse. His hair pulled into a short ponytail, the frayed ends of it formed a ball behind his head.

“Na’im, Mr. Myers would like to talk with you.” Holding him with a poignant gaze, Edward squeezed his hand, a silent warning. Releasing him, he watched as the case worker escorted him to another room. Heart pounding, he hoped Na’im understood the meaning of his silent admonition.

 

In the room Henri tried putting the attractive boy at ease by assuring him he wasn’t in trouble and that he could talk freely. He’d had this conversation so many times he said it almost as an afterthought. More times than he could account he’d been summoned to some foster or group home, some juvenile at risk. From physical abuse to pure neglect, he’d seen it all.

“Are you liking it here?” He started, gazing into the attractive youngster’s eyes. Nodding, Na’im looked away. “Are you having any problems?” Shaking his head, he studied the floor. Lifting his head, Henri looked straight into his eyes.

“Na’im, there was an incident at the hospital the other night. Anything you want to tell me?” Blinking, Na’im shook his head once more, his eyes darting away. Glancing at the bandage on his wrist Henri said,

“May I see it?” Timidly offering his hand to the man, Na’im stared as he examined it. “Does it hurt?”

Hesitating, Na’im gnawed on his fingernail. Finally hunching his shoulders, he studied the floor again.

“Can you tell me how it happened?”

“I fell,” he quietly answered.

“Fell where?” Blinking, Na’im returned,

“In the yard. Me and Santos were playing good cop/bad cop and I tripped when I was tryna run away and fell on my wrist.”

As Henri gazed into his eyes, Na’im looked away. Whether he was lying or not he wasn’t certain but didn’t press the issue. According to state protocol he was required to examine him for bruises or any other tell-tell signs but he was reluctant to do so. However, to soothe his conscience, he had the youth stand and raise his shirt.

His svelte, smooth form exposed, Henri examined his creamy brown skin for any bruises, burn marks or other contusions. Quietly obeying Henri’s request to raise his shirt, Na’im had pulled it clear past his nipples. Momentarily distracted, Henri took note how one nipple was larger than the other, the nipple in question puffy and slightly protruding. Puberty, he noted, aware that, were he to touch it, he might find the nipple tender to the touch.

“Ok, Na’im,” He said, allowing the boy to drop his shirt. Standing, he led the boy back up front where Edward waited.

“Mr. Myers, although things seem to check out, there are still several violations…”

“Yes, I know, but funding has been very tight. I’ve been asking for money to replace the carpet and paint.”

Nodding, Henri made notes on his clipboard. “I understand that funding is tight, still, if these violations aren’t addressed, I’ll be forced to call in Child Protective Services.” Ripping a copy of his report from the triplicate, he handed it to Edward.

He was still staring at the paper, long after the case worker left. Where the hell was he going to get money to make all the repairs listed was beyond him. The state going through its own financial crisis, funding had dwindled, what little he’d garnered acquired by sheer hook or crook...

 

 

 

Edward's foster home is in trouble...

 

 

 

Still in his prime, like most guys his age Edward was perpetually horny. Years before his first foster child, had someone told him he’d be up to his elbows in sex, he never would’ve believed it. On a whim he’d applied to become a foster parent, no one more surprised than he when the state granted him his first guardianship.

Abandoned at an early age, the youth quickly learned to fend for himself.  With his sinewy form and willful attitude, Ricky was no picnic. Street hardened and hardy, he was not only reluctant to Edward’s advances, he was downright defiant. Wiggling away and on a few occasions taking swings at him, Edward feared he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

More than once he’d run off, sending Edward into a near panic, searching the rural surroundings of his house. His third time running away, he’d narrowly escaped a hungry wolf, Edward scaring the beast off with a fallen tree limb.

When he brought him home that day, there was a notable difference, as if he’d finally accepted his fate. That night when Edward fondled him beneath the covers, he didn’t resist. Before long the sullen youth became a reluctant player in the horny man’s games, willing himself to comply.

Night after night Edward would make advances until eventually he became willing to lick the head of his dick. The mere sight of the willful youngster lapping away at his knob super erotic, it wasn’t long before he’d grant him a face full of hot cum.

Ricky would always retreat when Edward began spurting but he’d hold him in place, ensuring he was properly doused.

 

Those early trysts with the attractive youth exhilarating, Edward’s lust for more quickly grew. Ricky growing older, he acquired two more boys, Rashaud, a mocha-brown youth with the most alluring eyes and the olive-brown Santos. An overloaded system gladly turning them over to the man with little to no background check, such was the plight of the government’s overtaxed foster care system.

Breaking each youth in, he soon had his choice of not only various ages, but ethnic backgrounds and temperaments. From the reluctant to what Edward had convinced himself was the bi-curious, each boy offered something unique. And with the aid of an overwhelmed system, the boys’ fates were soon sealed. With abandoned children overflowing its doors, workers tended to turn their heads at potential problems. It was easier to throw money at it than resolve it.

That is, until Henri came along. Unlike the previous case workers, so burdened with impossible caseloads they barely had time to see all their clients, Henri was not only thorough but disturbingly relentless. His first visit to Edward’s house, he’d cited him for several violations, some Edward never heard of.

Now, the man breathing down his neck, he was plagued with not only the challenges of houseful of youths, but what to do with the man threatening his source of pleasure.

Seeking a way out, the solution was practically staring him in the face.  

 

 

An exciting story filled with wanton lust and dramatic conflict, Dirty Little Secret leaves nothing to the imagination! Cumming soon to The Studies you'll thrill to the fate of Eddy's boys, each of them his personal sex toy, and the ensuing conflict between him and Henri, the overbearing Social Worker.

 

 

 

 

There's Santos and Rashaud,

 

Santos and Rashaud, more times than not, were paired together, Edward enjoying watching them 69. At their tender age they’d mostly slurp and suckle each other’s upright arrows until one of them would writhe and tremble upon a spontaneous orgasm.

Hovering, Edward would alternately feed them his dick, trading warm mouths until he eventually blasted between one or the other’s lips. It was always exceedingly hot to him, watching their little tongues lick about the head of his dick like it was a sugary treat. Getting off that way always took a lot longer, the boy’s tender lickings barely enough to bring him off. The trade-off, however, was how much he’d squirt and how exquisitely satiating the extended orgasm was. Trembling and moaning as he gazed at the twin, naked brown bodies, it was well worth the delay... 

 

 

 

Ricky and Patrik.

 

“Go ahead.” Each boy glancing at Edward, they in turn gazed at the dick in front of them. Frozen like statues, the boys were slow to action.

Patrik’s hesitation he understood, the boy annoyingly resistant to oral sex but he was exceedingly pissed at Ricky. His damn dick was hard, for god’s sake!

“The fuck?” Edward hissed, moving towards the boys. Gazing up at him, neither complied, Ricky’s hard dick notwithstanding.

“Gonna make me pissed,” He seethed, pushing Ricky’s head towards Patrik’s limp boy tool. Resisting, Ricky pulled back, as if Patrik’s dick was toxic or something.

“Ok, have it your way.” Why these fool boys dared to resist he never understood. Maybe they liked him getting rough with them, he thought, storming out the room. Returning with a handful of ropes, he started with Ricky, snatching his legs and positioning him until he lay on his side in a 69 position opposite Patrik. Pushing Patrik’s face between the boy’s legs, he wrapped them about the boy’s head.

Wrapping ropes about Ricky’s smooth legs he worked until Patrik’s head was scissored between Ricky’s legs, his ever hard boy dick crammed down his throat. Securing Ricky’s head between Patrik’s legs in a likewise fashion, soon the only thing visible was twin boy backs and legs, each boy’s head caught between the other’s legs, a dick inside their unwilling mouths.

“Suck it,” Edward said, pushing on the back of Ricky’s neck, willing the boy to coax Patrik’s sleeping member. Neither boy responding they remained immobile, like dead fish. Frustrated to no end, Edward walked out. Returning with a paddle, he swung it at Ricky’s ass.

Whack! “Suck it,” He chided, laying another smack on the boy’s bottom. With a muffled cry the boy finally relented, his lips reluctantly suckling Patrik’s shriveled extension. Moving to the other side of the bed, Edward smacked Patrik on his smooth behind, charging him to do likewise.

His troubles with Henri a constant annoyance, Edward had kept Ricky and Patrik home from school. His nights with the boys no longer meeting his needs, lately, he found himself wanting more. Failing in his attempt to have the boy’s 69 each other he’d turned to bondage and whipping, the kinky scenario quite erotic.

His dick dripping, soon both boys’ heads were avidly sucking. Alternately smacking each boy with the paddle, Edward kept things moving, the boys squealing and slurping in earnest. Smothered between Ricky’s chocolate-brown legs, Patrik was practically gagging on the boy’s stiff offering.

Another smack landing on his tender backside, he yelped in pain as he quickly returned to sucking the teen’s wickedly hard dick. How Ricky could get hard under such strange conditions was beside him but there it was, a nice hard dick, crammed down his throat.

Shit’s gonna be fucked up, he dreaded, anticipating his approaching release. With his dick so far down his throat, he was subject to choke to death on it.

When Edward would smack Ricky on his smooth behind, Patrik noticed how his dick swelled. It’s like he’s getting off on having his ass beat, he jeered. Unbeknownst to him, his dick was equally swelling, edging closer to a potent release with every smack. Despite his aversion to sucking dick, he trembled, his dick equally extending in Ricky’s mouth.

Whack! The paddle sounded, connecting with a vulnerable bottom. Over and over it rang out, mercilessly driving the boys closer and closer until, a bit surprised, Edward caught glimpse of Patrik’s hips writhing, edging his dick deeper between Ricky’s ample lips.

Look at that little shit, he marveled, Patrik’s hips gyrating, thrusting his dick at Ricky’s mouth. Whacking the boy’s glowing red bottom, he noticed the way he shook, trembling upon his burgeoning release. Walking around the bed to Ricky, he equally smacked his twin curves, the sound of the paddle echoing about the room erotic. Who wouldn’t enjoy paddling such cute, boy bottoms?

Ricky’s beautiful, brown cheeks also glowing, he watched as the boy shoved his dick forward, as if trying to cram every last inch down Patrik’s throat. Both boys writhing, despite the pain, backs arched, as toes curled then, almost as if on cue, they began to simultaneously moan and shudder...

 

And...

 

 

 

Then there was Na’im, his latest acquisition. The first night he’d spent with Edward neither of them got much sleep.

An attractive little spitfire, the youth was a handful from the beginning. His devil-may-care attitude and creamy brown complexion were too much to resist, however, and Edward didn’t stop until he’d acquired him. A bit older than the younger tots Edward usually gravitated to, Na’im’s alluring form and incredible beauty was enough to overlook his age.

A ward of the state from a young age, the boy had seen plenty, from people shooting up drugs to dead bloated bodies in abandoned buildings. He’d likewise seen his share of system abuses. And though he kept that glint in his eye, he’d learned the hard lessons of defiance in a system that neglected the most vulnerable and looked the other way on all the rest.

When Edward would spirit away a different youth each night, he’d observe, trying to discern what it meant. He’d even inquired among a couple of the other boy’s as to what was happening only to be met with silence.

Eventually his night came and he found himself in the man’s room, the ominous sound of the door locking behind him disheartening. Glancing around, he marveled at the well-equipped space. From a big screen TV to a mini-fridge beside the bed, no luxuries were spared, unlike their sparse accommodations.

“Want something to drink?” Edward asked, opening the mini-fridge. Barely nodding, Na’im was still standing just inside the door. “Come on over here,” the man coaxed, motioning for Na’im to join him on the bed.

Slowly making his way across the room, Na’im was still inventorying it, almost tripping over his worn tennis in awe. A stereo quietly playing from within the huge entertainment center, dominating the wall opposite the bed, Na’im also made note of what looked like a Blu-ray player and game system. Dang, he got a PSIII? WTF?

Perching on the opposite side of the bed, Na’im took the drink, his button nose turning up from the strange taste. Either dude’s fridge was broke or this was the nastiest drink ever, he thought, the bitter taste still on his tongue.

“Like it?” Edward inquired. Hunching his shoulders, Na’im idly held his glass. “Drink it,” Edward coaxed. Blinking, Na’im sipped some more. After about half a glass he started feeling woozy, the room spinning. As he tried orienting himself, Edward pulled him towards him, lying next to him like he was a girl and slipping his hand under his shirt.

Disoriented and confused, he got his wits about him enough to pull away. This mofo a faggot?! The struggle ensuing, Na’im’s small size and slight inebriation was no match for the man’s advances.

Some part of his brain kept screaming faggot in alarm but long experience in the foster system had taught him that each home was different and, above all, no one was going to help, so his struggling was more a show than actual resistance. Even as the man removed his clothing, socks and all, he made feeble attempts to wiggle away as he inwardly prayed the faggot wouldn’t do something horrible.

No one he’d selected the previous nights seemed traumatized the following morning so he took comfort in that. Hoping the freaky man wasn’t after his cookies, he lay motionless as Edward laid tender kisses about his exposed torso. 

Na’im was no stranger to dudes with dudes. He’d even witnessed niggas going down on each other and although it always made him uncomfortable, he understood the circumstances that could lower a dude to such depravity. Never underestimate a nigga feenin for a fix, there was no limit how low he’d go...

 

 

--------------------------

 

 

Daring to glance down, he watched a hand, moving about beneath his briefs. Concerned, he gave the man no aid when he tried pulling his briefs down , lying still like a dead fish. Unperturbed, Edward merely lifted him, pulling his briefs past his dormant dick and balls.

Slipping them down his smooth, slender legs and off his feet, he tossed them aside, his eyes appraising his nude form. An unmistakable bulge in his briefs, it literally swelled and writhed beneath the fabric as he drooled at him. Na’im saw the man’s reaction, his heart racing in his scant chest.

His eyes lighting upon his sleeping dangle, Edward’s desire was ignited. God, he’s more than I’d anticipated. His silky smooth skin beyond alluring, Edward thrilled to his slight form, caught between childhood and manhood. From his scant chest and slightly swollen nipples, (the right one a tad puffier than the left) to his skinny waist and near hairless package, Na’im was a perfect 10.

Excited to no end, Edward wanted to taste him from head to toe. Before he could react, he’d moved his upper body over the boy, his lips suddenly advancing towards Na’im’s. At the last minute Na’im realized what was happening, his eyes growing large as he turned his head away, avoiding Edward’s kiss.

Undeterred, Edward grabbed the boy’s head, forcing his face forward until his lips were on Na’im’s. Snatching at his arms in a frantic effort to free himself, Na’im pressed his soft, full lips extra tight trying to keep the man out. Struggling, he felt Edward’s other hand reach for his lower jaw. Wiggling and twisting, his efforts were no use, Edward finally prying his mouth open, his tongue snaking into his mouth, swabbing about like a wicked serpent.

Observing the way he struggled, Edward thought it was cute. He actually liked the little spitfire and his valiant attempts to avoid the inevitable. It wasn’t the first time a boy had struggled. Completely repulsed by the idea of a man kissing him, Ricky had struggled and kicked so, Edward had to smack him. And Patrik would twist and sputter like a drowning victim as he pressed his lips against his cherry lips.

The reward was well worth the resistance, however, Na’im’s mouth sweet as fresh spring water. Whimpering into his mouth, Edward lapped about his precious cavern, tasting his very essence. His dick harder than a steel pipe, he was on fire with desire.

Fighting desperately to not swallow, Na’im grimaced as Edward’s tongue snaked about his mouth, venturing deeper and deeper until he thought the man might smother him. Trying to process what the fuck it meant if you let a dude kiss you, he wondered if Eddy did this to all the boys? No way Ricky’d let him slobber on him like this, he contested.

After some time, Edward seemed to grow tired of slobbing on him. Releasing him, Na’im panted, his chest rapidly rising and falling. Barely catching his breath, he shuddered when the man locked his lips around his budding nipple. His buds extremely sensitive, he wiggled and squirmed, the man’s tongue dashing against his ripe bud.

Some freaky shit, he thought, peering down at the grown man, sucking at his nipple like it was a big tit or something. He’d seen guys having sex and they’d always sucked on the lady’s titties. But that was a dude with a lady… what the fuck was a grown assed nigga doing sucking on a boy’s nipple?

Writhing and wiggling, Na’im couldn’t imagine what the man got from it. His sensitive nipple rocketing all kind of sensations through his youthful body, he almost jumped when Edward took his flopping tool in his hand.

Slowly stroking his hand back and forth, it wasn’t long before he’d elicited a response from his wilting growth.  Peering down at his enlarging member, Na’im felt like he’d fell through a hole to an alternate universe. One where grown men fucked around with boys and the boys acted a fool and got HARD!

Thinking he should stop the man, Na’im’s hips writhed, his dangle extending until it was fully erect. Then the man did the unspeakable. Watching in horror as Edward kissed and licked down his squirming body, Na’im couldn’t believe his eyes when the man slurped down on his raring inches!

Practically sitting up, he gawked at the man, slurping and sucking on his anxious six inches. Unable to prevent his hips from writhing, he grew angry at his body for betraying him, quickly rounding the bases towards a reluctant release...

 

 

Constantly harassed by Henri, the new social worker, however, all of Eddy's fun is in jeopardy,

 

 

 

His visits frequent and increasingly frustrating, Henri was beyond breathing down Edward’s neck. How was it he had time to venture all the way out to Edward’s remote location so frequently and why him? On a visit to the adoption center he’d learned that apparently Henri was at his place more than his other clients.

“So he’s not going to the other homes as much?” Edward inquired, looking at a printout from the secretary. Nodding, she took a call as Edward studied the printout. What the fuck? Why had Henri made him a special project?

Leaving the office, the secretary’s words echoed in his ears. “It’s at the case worker’s discretion which homes he chooses to review. Not too much you can do about that,” She said, taking another call. Feeling trapped, Edward idly drove down the highway, somewhat surprised when he pulled up in front of his place. He’d been so absorbed he didn’t even remember the trip home.

Distressed, he’d taken comfort in his nights with his boys... 

Like an unwanted pest, Henri showed up promptly the next morning. Clipboard in hand, he went through a review of Edward’s place, updating the several repairs he’d made and citing many more. Distraught, Edward felt like bopping the man in the head and burying his body in the yard.

 

 

What is the Dirty Little Secret and what's the 'solution' practically staring Eddy in the face? 

These and many more questions will be answered with the next story at The Studies!

 


 

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