Miles to Go Chapter 1
by Aldric

Copyright 2006 by Aldric, all rights reserved.

This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.

Comments may be made to Pietar_the_fearless@yahoo.com

Chapter 1

Although he was in school, Rick was shopping for a birthday gift for his younger sister. For Christmas she had gotten him and his dad the best gift either of them could ever hope for—season tickets to their favorite basketball team. And the seats were among the best in the house. He knew the tickets must have cost her close to five thousand dollars, but she had stared in a Broadway play that ran for two years and had earned enough to ensure both of them would be able to go to college when they were ready and to pay off a big chunk of their parent's mortgage. And she had promised the family the best Christmas ever with the 'wild money' she had been allowed to keep.

Now her thirteenth birthday was coming up and Rick had figured out a gift to show her how much he appreciated his Christmas present. Not that he had much money—in fact he could barely afford lunch; but that didn't matter because he knew what she wanted and more importantly, he knew how to get it for her. All he had to do was pick out the right one. During her time in the play she had described a fantasy in the blog she had kept and Rick wanted to help make the fantasy come true.

Rick was standing in the hallway where the lockers for the seventh graders were. His locker was upstairs with the other ninth grade students, but he was looking for just the right boy. And he had found him.

The kid was dressed in a buttoned-down shirt with pleated pants and black shoes and he looked like the king of dorkville, but that was just what Rick was hoping for. He had bright red hair, which was the favorite color of Ricks' sister. He watched as the kid made his way carefully down the hall, always looking for anyone who might want to make his life miserable.

And apparently several of his peers wanted to do just that. As Rick watched, the kid was tripped (not once, but twice); the books were knocked from his arms; and his shirt tails pulled up out of his pants and raised over his head—all in the space of thirty yards of hall. Rick waited a little longer until a bigger kid came down the hall and eyed the freckle-faced red head Rick had been watching.

Rick got there the same time the other kid did and stepped directly between the red head and the bully. "Leave him alone" he told the bully in an even voice.

The bully stood there, not sure what to do. "Why?" he asked after a few moments of hesitation.

"Because I said to and that's all the reason you need. Or do I need to do something to convince you?" Rick's reputation was well known in school. Last year as a eighth grader he had beat up an ninth grader. The older kid came back the next day with his tenth-grade brother and Rick beat him up too. He had gotten suspended, but it didn't matter—kids now called him "killer." It wasn't that he was big or strong, for he was only average in both size and strength, but his dad has boxed for ten years and had taught the art to Rick.

"That goes for all of you so spread the word. Nobody picks on him unless I say it's okay," Rick said to the circle of kids who had gathered around. The bully was already backing off. "Now beat it!" The circle thinned out quickly.

"What's your name" he asked the red-headed kid.

"Miles" the kid answered. "Why did you—"

"What a stupid fucking name. What's your last name?"

"Brighton. I'm Miles Brighton" the kid said, holding out his hand.

"Another stupid name. From now on you are Bright Red, or BR, got that? And put your slimly hand down, you look like a slot machine standing there. Come with me and don't ask any questions."

"But I have class in one minute and I need to get my homework from my locker. Where are we going?"

"Didn't I just tell you to not ask questions? You're too stupid to be called bright anything, so I'll give it one more try. What's your middle name?"

"Which one? My full name is Miles Ashley Kent Brighton the Third" the kid said, looking like he was proud of it.

"Shit, I should have guessed. I give it up; I'll just call you Dork. Come along Dork; I don't care about your class, just tell the teacher someone hung you up by the back of your underpants or something. And don't ask any more questions!"

"I can't just show up late. I'll need a note. Where are we going?"

Rick turned around and swung a quick fist into the dork's chest. Not hard enough to knock him down or even to knock the wind out of him, but hard enough to hurt. The dork looked like he was going to cry.

"Okay, have it your way. But meet me at locker 318 after the last bell. If you aren't there, I'll come looking for you. And believe me; you don't want me after you. You got it? Locker 318 after last class." Rick turned and walked off leaving the kid standing frozen in place.

By the time the last bell rang Rick had forgotten his appointment until he saw the commotion around his locker. Three kids were there, two basketball players and the dork. They were taking turns bouncing Miles off the lockers.

"I knew when they gave the jocks lockers on the third floor that they'd never be able to find their way back to the first floor" Rick said as he walked up.

"You've got a big mouth Humphrey and somebody's going to shut it for you sooner or later" the bigger of the two jocks said.

"And which of you two ladies thinks she has the balls to try it?" Rick said as he spun his locker combination. He opened his locker and pushed Miles inside. "Wait here for me, this will just take a minute" he said as he slammed the locker door closed.

"I'm not scared of you, you aren't so tough. And I'm not a little pussy like Roger Weller" the jock said, referring to the tenth grader Rick had beat up the year before.

"No; you're right, I can see that now. You're a much bigger pussy than Weller was."

The jock balled his fists and said "Okay asshole; if you want it let's rumble."

"I'll make this easy for you" Rick said, taking the stance his father had taught him six years ago. "I'm going to hit you three times—twice in the chest and once in the middle of the forehead. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Ready?"

He didn't wait for a response. Rick had really enjoyed learning boxing, it was like a dance that few other people knew and he practiced a lot. He just never liked getting in the ring and facing other opponents. His dad didn't care and was happy to teach him everything he knew. One of the best lessons was how to throw lightning-fast punches with a lot of sting behind them. The jock didn't even have time to move his arms until the third punch was on its way and he was still much too slow to block it.

The punch rattled the jock's brain and Rick quickly stepped sideways to see what the second jock had in mind. But the second jock wanted no part of what he had just witnessed and decided to help his friend away while Rick was letting them go.

"Any time you girls want a rematch, you know where to find me. But I'd better not catch you missing around with my dork here or I'll show you where else I can punch." Rick opened his locker and pulled Miles out.

"I forgot; why are you here?" he asked.

"You told me to be here after the last class and to not ask any questions. Did you really beat both of them up?"

Now Rick remembered why the dork was here—the birthday present for his sister Cathy. Rick was beginning to think this little dork was a little too stupid but his sister's birthday was tomorrow so Rick decided he was going to have to use him.

"Do you want to be free from punks like them forever?"

Miles was surprised by the stupidity of the question. "Of course I would. I don't have much money if that's what you're after."

"You couldn't possibly have enough money to hire me to be your bodyguard. No, all I'm offering is that I will spread the word around school that you are off limits. Most of the kids here listen to me when I ask for something. And those that don't—well, I have ways of persuading them. All you have to do is make my sister happy for two days starting on her birthday."

"Make her happy? How do I do that? I mean, uh, I've never actually done anything like that, but I could—"

"Not like that you dork!" Rick said, pushing Miles into the row of lockers. "Just do what she says over the weekend. There's nothing much to it."

"How old is she? Does she go to school here?"

"What difference does it make?" Rick answered, getting annoyed with the constant questions the dork asked. "She's the same age as you, but she's in sixth grade. Are you going to do it or not?"

Miles considered it, but knew there had to be a catch. "What if she wants me to do, um, like stuff I don't want to?"

"Oh, I'm sure she will; in fact I think you can count on that. But its two days with her or the rest of your school life with guys like the ones who were just here. And by the way, those guys are going to be really pissed at you now, so you'd better think about it." Rick knew that the dork was easily intimidated and decided using other kids to threaten him would make the offer of protection seem more valuable. "So which do you want—me making sure no one bothers you or a few years of hell?"

"Well, I mean, I guess, but what if she, you know, wants me to do something weird?"

"Look, it's up to you. For two days you do what she wants you to and I make sure nobody picks on you at school for the next four years. But once you agree there's no backing out. If you don't do as you're told then I'll add more days to you, and maybe I'll beat you up a little myself."

"I don't know, I mean it sounds good from your side, but I'm the one who has to do stuff and I don't even know what that might include. Can I think about it some?"

"My sister's birthday is tomorrow so if you agree to this then it's just for weekend and I'm even letting half of Saturday go by. Just be at my house by noon—288 Chestnut Avenue. If you show up then it means you accept. If you don't then I'll spread the word around school that you stood me up and left me without a present for my sister. So you have until then to think about it."

Miles knew he couldn't accept the offer even if it did mean an end to the bullying. It really hadn't been that bad—the worst thing that any of them had ever done to him was to make him lick their shoes. But as he was leaving school he saw the two jocks that had been pushing him around earlier waiting for him outside the school.

He nervously made his way out, hoping he was wrong and they were just hanging around, but as he passed them they joined up on either side of him.

"Where's Humphrey?" one of them asked.

"I ddddont know. What do you guy's wwwant with me?" Miles stammered.

"Nothing that will take too long" the jock said. His friend grabbed Miles from behind and pinned Mile's arms to his side.

"Tell Humphrey this is for what he did to me today" the jock said, throwing a punch into the middle of Miles' chest. "And now I think a couple of shiners to go with it."

But the expected punches never landed. Miles was released suddenly as the jock yelled an obscenity and turned around. "You chicken" he yelled. Behind him was Rick and Rick had a rock in his hand. "You hit me in the back with a rock!"

"You're lucky; I was aiming for your head. And speaking of chickens, how many jocks does it take to beat up a kid like that? Are you sure the two of you are big enough?"

"Come on Gary, let's just get out of here" the jock who had been holding Miles said.

Gary hesitated, but remembered how quickly and easily Humphrey had hit him before. And he knew he wasn't likely to get much support from the rest of his team mates when they found out he who he was picking on. "Some day you'll regret this" he said as he and his pal walked off.

"I already do. But I'm warning you for the last time—unless you want me to come looking for you leave the dork alone. If you have a beef with me you come and see me about it." Rick waited until the two jocks went around the corner. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow at noon" was all he said to Miles.

And Miles knew he was right.

Miles had hardly slept at all that night wondering what would happen. Since he didn't feel like playing with anything, Saturday morning passed slowly and he ended up at Rick's house well before noon. Rick told him to wait in the backyard.

Miles waited for what seemed like an hour before Rick and his sister came out. She was cute Miles noticed, with bright green eyes and black hair.

"Hi Miles, my name is Cathy" she said. She was a few inches taller than Miles and his eyes drifted down to her bosom. "I understand you've agreed to be my present for a few days."

He looked up at her face. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, it depends on what you expect. I guess I can do a lot, but I don't know what you want. It's just that..."

"Don't talk except to answer questions. And you can call me Miss Cathy or Mistress, okay?"

"Okay Miss Cathy. But what..."

"I told you—he never stops asking questions. Lot's of luck with him and remember the limits" Rick said to Cathy. He looked at Miles and said "and don't forget, if she comes to me because of problems with you I'm gonna be all over your case. So just shut up and do what you're told and Sunday will be done before you know it."

"How old are you?" Cathy asked him.

"I'm twelve" Miles answered, then when he saw she was waiting for more he added "Miss Cathy."

"Give me your shirt" she told him.

Miles hesitated before unbuttoning it and removing it, dreading what might come next. He handed her the shirt.

"You're white as can be! Don't you ever take this off?"

"No. I mean I do, but not too much outside. I burn easily" Miles said, and then remembered again to add "Miss Cathy."

"That sounds too odd, how about if you just call me Cathy when it's just the two of us. But if someone else is around than I want you to call me mistress, okay? Well, I guess its time to get things started. Wait here for a second while I go get something."

Miles almost called to her to ask about his shirt, but decided it was best if he didn't. He watched as she went inside the house. She came back out a few seconds later with a small box but without his shirt.

"Here, I got this for my birthday and I want you to try it out" she said, handing him the box. "Go head and open it."

The box had already been opened once and all he had to do was pull the flaps out. Inside was a Polaroid camera. "There are two packages of film and each one holds twelve pictures" she said as she showed him how to load the film. "The camera is auto focus so all you have to do to take a picture is press this button." She pressed the button and the camera made several noises after which a picture frame was ejected. "You have to wait a minute while it develops" she said, holding the picture out until it developed, showing a picture of him.

I want you to take this home and find someone to take pictures of you. I want twelve pictures of you naked, and in at least half of them I want you to be hard. Most of them should show your face, but some of them can feature other parts of your body. Bring the pictures and the camera back this afternoon."

"But, I mean, uh, naked? How am I supposed to get somebody to take pictures of me naked?"

"Oh, I'll bet if you ask around you'll find it isn't that hard to find someone. You've got plenty of film so if some don't come out too good you can keep them yourself. But I expect you back here by suppertime with the twelve pictures. And don't try and fool me by using a mirror. I want someone else to take the pictures." She started to walk off leaving Miles with the camera and the box.

"Uh, but, uh, could I have my shirt back please?"

"Tonight, when you come back. Tell your mom you've been invited to a birthday party. See you by five at the latest." She walked to the house without looking back.

Miles felt odd walking home without a shirt. He virtually never was shirtless in public, partly because he did burn easily, but more because he was overly modest.

But the real problem was getting the pictures. He considered just not doing it, but then he thought about the two basketball players at school. Either way he was screwed but at least with the pictures there was no pain. And he knew who he could get to take the pictures.

Brian Ladstrom lived next door to Miles. He was ten and therefore wasn't a threat to Miles. But Brian was mischievous and always trying to talk Miles into doing something. Miles knew he would be overjoyed at the opportunity to take the pictures Cathy had demanded.

Brian was in his front yard as Miles arrived home and immediately came running over.

"Hey Miles, I've never seen you without a shirt on. You really need to get in the sun more. What's in the box?"

Brian was already pulling the flaps open on the box without waiting for Miles to answer. "Wicked, it's a camera" he said, pulling it out. He immediately took a picture of a tree across the street.

"Wait, don't take any more" Miles said. "I need you to help me with a school science project."

"Does it use the camera? Can I use it to help you?"

"Sure! Let's go inside so I can explain" Miles said holding open his front door. Brian followed him inside.

"Where's your shirt Miles?" his mom asked him as he and Brian headed for his room.

"Uh, I left it at somebody's house. I'll bring it back later. I've been invited to a birthday party this evening—is it okay if I go? I need to be there by five, but I don't think I'll be home late."

His mother was more surprised at the invitation then the fact he was shirtless. She knew he didn't have many friends. "Its not a school night, so I guess you can go. If you're going to be there past dark I want you to call me though. What are you two guys up to with the camera?"

"Miles said he needs my help with a science project for school" Brian said. "Come on, Miles, let's get started. Hey, can I go to the party too?"

Miles directed Brian down the hall and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"No, the party is for bigger kids, I'm surprised they are letting me come."

"Darn! Okay, what's the science project? What do I get to take pictures of?"

"Um, this is going to sound kind of strange, but I need you to take pictures of me."

"Cool!" Brian said and immediately snapped a picture of Miles. "Like that?"

"No, wait, you can't use up all the film, I need to have twelve pictures, but they need to be, um, special ones."

"What do you mean, 'special'?"

"Well, I uh, I, um, I need to take my clothes off" Miles said as he kicked off his shoes.

"Naked! You? Really? That'll be grand!"

"Shhh, not so loud" Miles said, hoping his mom didn't hear him. "And I need to have my face show up in part of them and some I need to have a boner."

"Really? I get to see you with a boner?" Brian considered what Miles had said. "This isn't really for school, is it. There is no way you would take a picture or you naked with a boner to school for any science project."

"I, yeah, I mean, uh—okay, you're right, it's not for school. Just take the pictures for me, okay? And keep your voice down; I don't want the whole neighborhood to hear." Miles began removing his pants.

"Tell me why" Brian insisted.

"I just have to have them, okay? Just take the pictures when I tell you or give me the camera and I'll find somebody else to do it."

"Oh yeah; who?" Brian asked. "Tell me why you need them or I'll tell your mom."

Miles didn't think Brian would really tell, but he couldn't be sure. "Some kid at school said he'd beat me up if I didn't do it." He saw the look on Brian's face and added "he's a lot bigger than me and he's in ninth grade. Could you please just do this for me?"

"Okay, sure. When we're done, can you take one of me? I want to see what I look like."

"Just look in the mirror" Miles said as he pulled his boxers off but from the look on Brian's face he knew Brian wouldn't be satisfied. "Okay, if you don't waste the film. You're weird though."

"I'm weird? You're the one who is going to show the pictures to some ninth grader" Brian said as he stepped back and took a picture. "Is that what you need?" He watched as the picture developed then took a good look at Miles. "Hey, you've got hair down there. And it's red; just like on your head." With that bit of news, Miles began posing for the pictures.

When they were done they laid out the sixteen pictures on Miles' bed to let them develop and dry. They had taken fourteen of Miles and two of Brian. Brian picked up the two of him and put them in his pocket while Miles choose the twelve that he was going to give to Cathy. He put those in the back pocket of his pants.

"Can I have one of these?" Brian asked as he picked up the two left over pictures.

"No!" Miles said, grabbing them back. "You're weird. Why would you want a picture of me naked? For that matter, why do you want a picture of yourself naked? Your mother is going to find them and then we'll both be in trouble. How about if we just cut them up and throw them out?"

"Naw, let's burn them! Brian said, getting excited over the thought. That was how his mind worked; once he came up with an idea it was full throttle to completion. But maybe that was the best way to get rid of them.

"You promise to burn them?" Miles asked, looking at the clock. It was later than he thought and he needed to get going. "I'll let you borrow a lighter if you promise to burn them tonight." He dug deep in a drawer of junk and pulled out a disposable lighter, flicking the top to make sure it still worked.

"Neat, let me have it" Brian said as he grabbed for it. "I'll burn them right now!"

"Not in here you dork, my mom will smell the smoke. Take them out behind the garage and burn them. And DON'T set the garage on fire." He handed the lighter over and watched as Brian repeatedly lit it and let it go out.

"Save some of that, I don't know how much gas is in there. You promised to burn these now, remember? And I'll want that lighter back tomorrow." Miles was putting the camera back in the box and pulling his shoes on.

"Yeah, yeah, I promise" Brian said. He was holding the pictures in one hand and the lighter in the other as he reached to open the door to Miles' bedroom.

"Hey, put those in your pockets or my mom will see them" Miles told him. Brian shoved them in and took off down the hall leaving Miles to just shake his head. "Bye Mrs. Brighton" he heard him yell to his mom followed a second later by the front door. Miles made his way down the hall in a more controlled manner.

"Bye mom, I've got to take the camera back. I'll remember my shirt before I come home."

"Okay, Miles have fun. And don't forget to call if you are going to be there after dark."

After one glance at the garage to see if he could spot any smoke Miles headed back to Cathy and Rick's house. He didn't even notice Brian watching him from across the street.