The Boy Kevin part 4

[gideon]

I have no idea how long I'd been sleeping. When I awoke the bedroom was dark, lit only by starlight from the window, and at first I was disorientated. Something had roused me and I had no idea what. Then I felt the comforting warmth of the body I was cuddled into and smiled as my drowsy brain began to focus on the beautiful man-boy in whose protective embrace I had been sleeping so contentedly.

I began to recall how he had carried me to the bedroom to begin a new life of obedient service. I relished the memory of worshipping and cherishing every sensuous inch of his awesome body, tracing every muscular contour with my trembling hands and licking every luscious part of him with my adoring tongue. He had purred with pleasure as I proved my dedication to his service. I had responded willingly as he established his total superiority over me in ways that brooked no refusal yet at the same time were affectionate and kind. This was a lover capable of the arrogant dominance I craved, yet who would never deliberately hurt me. Perhaps it was ridiculously early to talk of love, but my devoted attention to his needs and he to mine already seemed way more than merely hormonal responses. There was tenderness, warmth and mutual respect that transcended mere sex for the sake of it. Our "love making" felt like the fusion of two needy souls who had discovered a common purpose.

As I lay in my dreamy half-awake state, glowing from my feelings for Kevin, I became aware of what had wakened me. Kevin was softly weeping, his sobs trembling through his body and shaking me from my slumbers. Confused and concerned, I sat up. At my sudden movement, Kevin turned his head away. I stretched out a hand and gently pulled his face back until the starlight glimmered in the tears that filled his eyes.

"Oh Kevin", I said. "Whatever is the matter? What's upset you?"

His response was to throw his arms around me and hug me tightly to his warm, muscular body, desperately clinging to me as though he thought I might desert him. I lay quietly in his arms, knowing he was marshaling his thoughts, preparing to reveal more of his inner pain. Such a perfect creature and yet so emotionally scarred, I thought as the awful seconds passed. I dreaded what he might tell me, and doubted my own ability and maturity to counsel him.

His chest suddenly inflated beneath me as he drew a lungful of air. He was ready.

"He raped me, you know."

"Wh ... what?" I stammered.

"Steven. My Dad - your hero. He raped me when I was only nine years old."

I was nauseated by the enormity of what I had just heard. I had already considered the possibility but it seemed so appalling and so unlikely that I had deliberately suppressed the thought, unwilling to give it any credence. Now there was no doubt.

I reached up and gently cradled his lovely head in my hands. That beautiful tear-stained face was contorted in pain. My awesome young master was once again a vulnerable, hurting little boy who needed all the love and compassion I could muster.

"Oh Kevin", I said softly. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. But it's imprtant that you realise this was not your fault. You are in no way to blame for how your Dad has behaved."

"That's not how he sees it."

"No, he won't. He'll want to blame everyone and anyone but himself for his own shame. I don't know why he would do that to his own son, but I do know this - it was not your fault."

I shook my head in horrified disbelief.

"He must surely have been out of his mind to sexually abuse his own son. I don't know what sort of pressures he was under, but I'm sure he regrets ...."

I stopped speaking as Kevin began to laugh. It was a cold and sardonic laugh.

"Regrets? Oh you think so? Yeah, that would explain why he continued to fuck me whenever he was in the mood until I made myself big and strong enough to stop him."

I felt sick. I fought to hold back my own anger and tears. Now I knew why it had been such a struggle to tell me. My God, I couldn't believe that Steven was capable of such cruelty to his own son. I looked at Kevin. The tears had dried and his facial expression had hardened. Clearly he had already benefited just by unloading his terrible secret. But as I was about to discover there were more bitter memories to come.

He sat up suddenly, his movement sliding me off his body. Then he flexed his arms.

"You see these? You see this fuckin' power?"

I nodded as his biceps hardened obediently into menacing peaks, indicative of his body's awesome muscular power.

"This is nothing", he growled, surveying his muscle display with a scowl. "By the time I'm finished, nobody but nobody will push me around ever again."

I ached to reach out to him and give him comfort or worship - whichever he needed most at that moment - but I hesitated, fearful of his angry mood. As I looked on in silence, he ended his guns show and lowered his arms to the front of his chest, crunching the knuckles of both hands against one another and flexing his magnificent arms and pecs.

"Your friend Steven had three years to use and abuse this body. Then his little son decided he'd had enough of being small and weak."

He smiled at me. But the smile was cold as ice.

"And after that, he was all washed up. It was my time."

Kevin suddenly swung his long legs off the bed and stood up. Then he leaned over and scooped me up effortlessly in one muscular arm. I held on by throwing my arms around his neck as he headed for the bedroom door.

"Errrr ... where exactly are we going?" I asked, as if I had any say in the matter.

"I've got more to tell you, little man", he answered as he pulled the door open. "But right now I'm gasping for a cold beer."

So saying, he set off down the darkened hallway as if he'd known my house all his life and made a beeline for the kitchen. I dangled from his arm like a toddler in the reliable grasp of a parent. And just like a toddler, I felt the instinctive warm assurance of being utterly safe and protected. Reaching the chill, he grabbed a couple of beers and set the bottles on the kitchen table. Then he yanked a chair out from under the table, perched his gorgeous ass, and settled me onto one of his beefy thighs. I nestled contentedly into his hairy chest to enjoy my beer.

He examined his bottle for a couple of minutes before tipping the entire contents down his throat. Then he whooped with satisfaction and banged the empty bottle down on the table. All this time I had been studying his changing mood. The hurting little boy seemed to have been all but exorcised from his mind. He was clearly altogether more cocky about what he was next about to relate to me. He drew breath and returned to his tale.

"Yeah, for three years that evil bastard had his way with me", he said. "But every year I got bigger, stronger and more angry. I hadn't even hit puberty before I was doing all that I could to toughen myself up. Little things like doing all the work in and around the house, and fetching all the shopping while he just sat around slowly turning into a lazy, fat slob. There was weights equipment in the basement, but he had dismantled it and wouldn't let me near it. So I got myself a collection of heavy stones hidden at the bottom of the garden. I'd lift them just like I'd seen bodybuilders do with real weights. And I would run - jeeze, did I ever run! And as my legs got firmer and stronger I'd fill my pockets with stones to make then work even harder.

"Every day that passed I got stronger and stronger. I knew I was succeeding because I became the biggest and best athlete in school. There was no sport I didn't excel at, and nobody I couldn't beat. And I was growing like a weed until, by the time I was twelve, I was almost eye to eye with my porker of a Dad.

"And then it happened. He had been out drinking with the lowlife he called his mates. I was already in bed by the time he got home, shouting and banging and calling out for me. I climbed out of bed, my ass already aching just at the thought of him, and found him collapsed in a chair in a drunken stupor. I pulled him to his feet and dragged him towards the bedroom. I desperately hoped I could guide him to bed and make my escape, but no such luck. As usual he drooled over me, trying to kiss me and touch me as I struggled to get him into bed. When I eventually succeeded, his persistent slobbering attention finally made me snap, and I lashed out with an uppercut to the chin that laid him out cold. I remember just standing there, yelling at his unconscious body, telling him what a total bastard he was and how I'd had enough of his drunken abuse.

"The words were wasted on him, of course, he was out cold. But I often wondered if the neighbors heard my yells. They never said, and neither did he. When I saw him next day he was nursing a hangover and an aching jaw. If he suspected anything he kept it to himself, but it was a turning point. My heroics didn't stop the abuse altogether. He still took me by force whenever he could. But I knew that his days of overpowering me were coming to and end - and so did he!

"Puberty came early for me. At school when I was still only thirteen I had grown into a six goot giant sharing lessons with a bunch of scrawny little kids. School had a gym and I started to work out like crazy, egged on by Coach who had big hopes for what I could do for his football team. Meanwhile at home the abuse had finally stopped. Even an alcohol-soaked shit like my father could see I was becoming too big to push around.

"As my muscles grew, so did my confidence. I decided to reassemble all the old weights in the basement. I was using the equipment one evening, giving my arms and shoulders a good pump, when he appeared at the basement door. It was a moment I'll never forget. He was drunk as usual, and he was angry as hell that I'd had the temerity to use 'his' weights. I remember I got up from the bench to confront him, walking right up to him until I looked down on him. I only had maybe an inch more in height but it was enough! I smirked in triumph at his sudden confusion. Then I spun him around, pushed him out the door and slammed it behind him. My forced, mocking laughter must have followed him all the way back to his favorite chair.

"He was never to bother me again after that. I was the man of the house now and I told him straight it was now his job to do the shopping and keep the place tidy. Meanwhile I set about building myself another life through school, sport and bodybuilding. On my fourteenth birthday I hit 6 foot 2 inches of solid muscle and still growing! I had 18" biceps that were bigger around than most of the other kids' thighs! I had become a man in a world of munchkins.

"Every senior girl wanted a piece of me. The day finally arrived when I got dated by the school legend, the 'babe' of senior year. She had been flagging up her interest in me for some time. Though I was flattered, I didn't share her enthusiasm for dating, something I put down to my tender age.

"The date when it came was a total disaster. With my upbringing was it any wonder I had no social skills? And as for flirting and making out, she was keen and I was not. We quarreled, I walked her to her house then headed home in a foul mood. I was close to tears of anger and confusion as I barged in to discover my loving father wallowing in his usual chair, watching television glassy eyed, surrounded by empty beer bottles. If there was any point in my life when I desperately needed some parental input, this was it. I squatted down at his feet and unburdened myself to him. It was a desperate search for affection, comfort, support and maybe even some fatherly advice. While I talked, he continued to stare at the television.

"When I had emptied myself of the entire evening's romantic disaster I looked up at him expectantly. It was obvious he hadn't listened to a single word. Like the day I unleashed the uppercut when I was twelve, fury and frustration welled up inside me until I reached boiling point. I sprang to my feet and hauled him out of the chair, almost ripping the shirt from his back. As he was dragged to his feet, my big hands were gripping shirt material and probably even some skin. I was roaring like a voracious wild animal that had cornered its prey. And the prey was now cowering before me in abject terror.

"New sensations were beginning to course through me. I felt masterful, savage, unstoppable. I looked at the rippling muscle and sinew on the thick forearms that held my pathetic, squirming prey and I knew I was in total control of events. Slowly I began to haul the miserable wretch off the ground until I was eye to eye with his ashen face. Shit, this felt so good! The creature who had made my life a misery now dangled in midair, submissive, broken and tearful, totally subdued by the muscular superiority of his own son. I began to giggle at his hopeless situation. Soon I was laughing hysterically, drunk on the absolute power I now possessed over my former tormentor.

"The intense elation from my impudent assault on his paternal authority was having another unexpected outcome. I became aware that my huge, manly dick was now throbbing wildly in my pants, clamouring for attention, demanding to be satisfied. Fuck, this was beyond amazing! Who needed a bitchy school 'babe' when the answer to my sexual needs was right here before my blazing eyes, writhing in terror. I laughed again at the thought of turning the tables on this drunken loser who dared to sexually exploit his own son in order to satisfy his shameful lust. This foul creature, this vermin, was now totally in my power, subdued and defenceless. The blowjob I had in mind at that moment was the least he owed me, and I thought - why the fuck not?"

Suddenly Kevin's tale drifted into silence. All the time he had been speaking I had sat on his huge muscular thigh listening intently, my head resting against his mighty chest. Now I looked up to see a tear trickle down his cheek.

"But I never touched him", he breathed softly, barely audible. "Not ... not like that. Not like the abuse he had heaped on me."

Kevin stared at me wistfully.

"I'm better than that."

"I know you are", I whispered, hugging him tightly.

"I knew then what I wanted, and it wasn't a debauched life abusing my drunken father. I wanted you. THe one favour he did me was to talk a lot about you. And I knew from all he said that you were into being submissive to younger, built guys. So I decided to sit things out for another couple of years, build up my muscles, then come and seek you out."

His voice faltered.

"I ... I know this doesn't sound too much like the muscle boy image that turns you on, but I was really terrified when I walked into your basement yesterday."

"Terrified?" I said in genuine surprise. "Why would you be terrified?"

"Shit, are you kidding me? I thought that you might not want me, or even like me. And when I realised I had overplayed the tough guy routine, I thought I'd totally blown it."

I melted at his needless anxiety, realising that my next words had the potential to cheer him or crush him. I reached up and pulled his lovely face to mine. There was pain and uncertainty in the eyes of this beautiful youth who had already suffered too much. I smiled and kissed him.

"Welcome home, Kevin."


(end)

[mlbjock]

Very touching man. Truly one of my favorite stories.

[bribear1042]

Very good!! I sincerely loved it.

[muscl4life]

It was an excellent story, Gideon. The alternation between sweet and emotional moments was just thrilling, the combination of pupil/master, man/boy was fresh and masterfully executed. It was graphic and very detailed, had strong colors applied, but it was never offensive. You have started in great style, dude, and the bast part is that there's always room for further improvements, which I hope to see in your next stories.

Congratulations