Never Play Poker with Girls Chapter 04
By Jaech Reiter

jaech_reiter@yahoo.co.uk

Copyright 2010 by Jaech Reiter, all rights reserved

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit 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.
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The Gant Family:
Mike and Judie Gant.
Marissa, 16 years.
Ricky, 15 years.
Melanie and Will, 12 years, 10 months.
Henry, 11 years, 9 months.

Neighborhood:
Logan Henson, 11 years 5 months - lives down the block; friend of Henry.

Zachary Manning, 12 years 11 months - lives one block over; kind of an ass, obnoxious. One inch taller than Will; has PE with Will.

School:
Curtis Bedwell, 12 years 7 months - one of Will's best friends; reddish-brown hair, could pass for 13 already; has PE with Will.

Dean Larkin, 12 years 11 months - one of Will's best friends; heartthrob to girls and he knows it.

Kyle Wilcox, 12 years 10 months - friend of Dean; arrogant sort, dad is Juvenile Judge; plays soccer.

Randy Welch, 13 years 1 month- friend of Dean; dad is a banker; plays baseball and basketball.

Brad Cohen, 13 years 2 months - friend of Dean; dad is an orthopedist, plays baseball.

Tyler Barnes, 12 years 10 months - friend of Dean, dad is an internist; all-round general athlete.

Harley Rowen, 13 years 7 months - imposing bully-type - a 'static bully'; 4 inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than Will.

Coach Tom Maguire - Head Coach, 8th grade PE, football. Coach Chuck Brown - 7th grade PE, basketball. Coach Archie Peterson - 6th grade PE, baseball, may be something of a pervert. Coach David Jenkins - Special Assist coach for after school program.

Chapter 04
Cocker Rage

It was the roughest of Mondays for Will, and he fell asleep in his clothes after dinner. It was only 7:00 pm.

His parents came in to check on him and see if he was still in his foul pensive mood, but he was dead asleep. If he were younger and / or happier, they would have at least partially undressed him and tucked him in. As it was, they were actually afraid to awaken him, quite content to let him sleep and reasoning that maybe he had just stayed up too late over the weekend. So they just pulled a sheet up over him and turned out the light, leaving him in his khaki pants and long sleeve shirt from the day.

He slept 12 hours straight and woke up ten minutes before his alarm. He awoke with a hard on, which wasn't unusual lately, except that this was exceedingly hard, and he didn't have the slightest interest in jerking off. He couldn't even get it to go down so that he could have his morning piss; so, needing to go real bad, he just hopped in the shower and let it loose against the wall.

Once again he came downstairs dressed in khakis and a long-sleeve shirt, but didn't have anything to say to anybody. His parents saw his dress shirt and looked at each other questioningly over their cups of coffee. Each couldn't help notice that once again there was a straining erection pushing his pants out off to the right. But they just made individual notes of that.

Melanie was again quiet, as well, which was unusual for her. For her part, Marissa was also still worried about Will, and gave him an unreturned, and unusual, kiss on the forehead as she left out the door, calling for Ricky to hurry up so they wouldn't be late for school. Henry was reminding his parents that they had to sign the permission slip for the state capitol trip by Friday and put down the deposit.

They decided to go ahead and give Henry a check for the deposit, and this caused Will to raise his head and actually look around at everybody. His parents raised their eyebrows and waited to see what it was their moody son wanted, but he just sat there dumbly. There was something he was supposed to say . . . . . what was it?

He was still thinking at the bus stop, still thinking when his English teacher called his name three times in second period. He didn't even hear her send him to the principal's office, so she just let it pass, making a note to arrange a parent-teacher conference to discuss this behavior if it continued on Thursday's class.

Finally at lunch, he felt a very hard smack across the back of his head.

"Snap out of it, Will. What the hell's going on?"

It was Dean, the only one of the group he had lunch with on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days he usually sat with some of Dean's other friends, who more of the athletes and rough and tumble upper class sort. Two of them had dads who were doctors; one's dad was a banker, and the other a judge. That one was Kyle Wilcox. He was an arrogant sort, and his dad was a Juvenile Judge and tended to be fairly harsh in his judgments. Definitely old school, and believed his son was one of the better kids at school.

"Sorry." Will said. Looking at the sea of smirks around him. He never really did like Dean's other friends. He wondered why he continued to sit with them. Didn't he have some other friends to sit with?

"I've just been a little distracted the last couple of days," he said, looking around the lunchroom, as if there would be neon signs pointing to better tables where he could sit among friends.

"Yeah, no shit," Randy said. His dad was the banker. He was several months older than Will, having turned 13 a month ago, but he also looked older than Will.

"We were talking about yours and Dean's little trip up to Benjamin County," Brad said. His dad was an orthopedist. Brad was the oldest by a month.

"You told them??" He asked Dean.

"Yeah, chill out. They know our moms are making us go with them. It's no big deal. So we're going to be buck naked. A couple of them might even come up to razz us a bit."

That was Dean's typical way of dealing with adversity, even humiliating ones. Turn it into something like a hazing ritual that you have to go through to be one of the boys and puff your chest out like you were proud you could take it like a man. That definitely wasn't Will's way.

"You can count me out," Tyler said. He was the same age as Will, although he too looked a bit older, and he was a very good all purpose athlete. His dad was an internist at the hospital and had gone to school at Berkeley. "My dad's into that whole-earth mother-feelie crap and would make me strip down just like you guys. No thanks. The locker room's OK; hell I don't even mind changing on the sidelines, but I'm not walking around bare-assed through some mall, or park, or whatever."

Brad laughed and said his dad was just the opposite. He had gone with his mother a couple times to Benjamin County for baseball gear, especially since the only place around to do fitted batter's gloves and fitted field gloves was there. "Every time I have to go there he makes my mom get me a pass that says I can keep my clothes on. Usually I hate going there, but I need a new bat, and I could get one there and still get to harass you guys. When are you going?"

"It was going to be this Sunday, but now it's going to be next Saturday."

"Yeah, I bet I can get my mom to go that day. You gonna have your phone on you?"

"Where the hell am I going to keep it, Brad, if I'm naked?"

I don't know, man, they must let you have something to keep like your wallet and shit in. Hey Randy, you want to go?"

"Hell yeah, I wouldn't miss that. I could use a new bat, too."

"A new bat isn't going to help your batting average, Randy."

"Fuck you, Kyle," Randy laughed, "Maybe you should get a new foot so you can make a goal every now and then."

"I'm not a forward, shithead."

Brad was smiling and laughing along with the guys. Will couldn't believe that he would take this so lightly, much less invite other guys from their school to witness it."

"What about you Kyle? You in?"

"I don't think so. My dad might agree to it thinking it would be very educational for me to see how justice and order and all that crap is served up in another county. The only problem is that he might just as well think it would be educational for me to see what it would be like to be one of the naked ones."

Kyle actually doubted that his dad the Judge would want his own son to be one of the shamed naked youths, but why risk it?

Finally lunch was over, and Will could mercifully escape the testosterone laden table and return to his zombie state in his classes.

"Will!!"

Will was outside the school at the end of the day awaiting his bus back home. He turned to see Curtis coming up to him.

"I called your name about three times."

"Sorry, guess my mind is somewhere else."

"Yeah, no shit, heard it all from Dean already. Did you find out what was in that shit they put on you?"

"No. I kind of forgot last night."

"Well don't forget tonight. And don't forget Coach wants a doctor's note, too."

Will nodded dumbly. He'd have to remember both of those. For some reason he found himself sitting across the aisle from his little brother on the bus. Henry looked unusually happy today.

"What's wrong with you?" Will asked him. "What are you so happy about?"

Henry's happiness faded into a scowl. Will never asked a question expecting an answer, certainly not in anyway to advertise that he actually knew Henry. "What's it your business? Why do you have to ruin everything in my life?"

What?? What the hell was that about? When did he ever ruin anything in this loser's life? Whatever. He just went back to ignoring Henry.

"I bet I know why he's happy," Zachary Manning started, readying his audience for a witty put down. Will looked around and caught Zachary's eye; even a dim-witted person could see the storm clouds in Will's face. The smile died on Zachary's face, and he turned to look out the window without any further comment.

Will faced front again, not even conscious of what he had done. Funny thing was, Henry, who was no longer smiling, hadn't noticed it either. Logan Hensen, a neighborhood friend of Henry's and also in the sixth grade, and who was sitting next to Henry in the window seat, however, saw it all.

That night, Will was once again in his room, unable to concentrate on his homework, and, realizing that he was going to get another 'F' on his daily work, suddenly remembered what he was supposed to do. His parents were over at a neighbor's house for a few minutes and had left Marissa in charge, as they normally did. He padded down to her room and asked to see the bottle of hair removal cream.

"Why do you want to see it?" She was curious about his sudden interest.

"I've got a right to know what you put on me, you bitch!!" He suddenly yelled, face full of rage. It came on so sudden and so out of the blue, that Marissa immediately backed away, putting the bed between herself and her little brother.

Ricky rushed into his sister's room to see what the commotion was and had to throw himself against his little brother, manhandling the flailing thunderstorm of rage and receiving several blows that practically winded him. Finally a dazed younger boy ineffectually pushed at his older brother telling him to just let him go and leave him a lone.

"Let him go, Ricky."

"Are you sure?" Ricky was stunned.

"Yes. Please, Ricky, just let him go."

Ricky stepped back very cautiously, and Will picked himself up and without looking at either one of his siblings, or the two wide-eyed siblings in the hallway, and trudged back to his room.

"What was that about?" Melanie asked, sticking her head in.

"Nothing! You and Henry go back to your rooms, now! And don't bother Will." Ricky said it so sharply that neither of the two argued with him, nor dallied around in the hallway.

"I'll go talk to him," Marissa said, although she certainly wasn't feeling it. She could almost feel her hands shake and her heart pond.

"I don't think you should."

"I'll call you if I need you, Ricky. It'll be OK."

"I don't think you understand, Marissa. I could barely hold him. I'm worn out, like I just spent a couple hours working out, instead of a few moments wrestling with my little brother. I mean . . . . . another minute or less of that and he would have knocked me senseless; but he . . . . he just went from strong as shit to like a feather pillow in less than a second."

That unnerved, Marissa. "I'll be OK, Ricky. Just leave me alone for a second, and I'll call you if I need you."

As soon as Ricky left, Marissa grabbed the bottle of hair removal cream from the bathroom and read the back. It was a very expensive, import-only brand that had only just come on the market in Europe. She had found it online and wanted to try it. Now as she read the warnings on the back she wished she had paid more attention.

There was the part that she already knew, the part that had originally interested her. It basically said that continued use would result in longer times of hair removal and that returning hairs would be lighter and pre-pubertal in nature. There was also the section about leaving on for greater than one minute could result in serious burns, a part that caused her to grimace in guilt. But when she read the next part, she felt truly horrible.

Warning: This product is not to be used on males. It has only been tested and is marketed for women only. This product utilizes both cutting edge depilatory chemicals and hormonal therapy designed specifically for the post-pubertal female body. While first application on such females may result in hair removal of up to two months, this effect could be much longer in men, lasting two to three times as long, though full effects are unknown at this time.

It is especially important that this product not be used on pubertal or pre-pubertal children, particularly boys, as the reaction with the naturally occurring hormonal flux in this population is unknown but may have wide ranging and deleterious results.

Absolute under no circumstances apply to the testicles. Although studies on animals are underway, it has been hypothesized that the hormonal compounds in this product could interfere with both sperm production and the testosterone pathways.

If you notice any questionable side effects or have any concerns whatsoever, discontinue this product and consult a doctor.

Marissa felt sick to her stomach. What had she done to her little brother!!??? She asked Ricky to wait outside the door to Will's room, just in case, but not to listen in. She braced herself, took a big breath and went inside to tell her brother what she had found. He was lying on the bed in an almost fetal position, facing away from her as she sat there and went through the warning label, apologizing to him every step of the way.

She felt any minute that she would bear the brunt of that uncontrollable rage, especially as she got to the part where he could be hairless for half a year or more, or that it could have unknown consequences to his testicles or developing manhood. But he listened in silence the whole time. When she was done, she asked him if he had any questions, but that was when she noticed he was sobbing quietly.

"Oh Will, poor baby," Marissa said and curled up behind him and held him until he fell asleep. She convinced the other three individually not to say anything about his outburst to their parents when they got back, even though Ricky had serious misgivings about that.

"What is going on with you four?" Their mom asked when she found them all so quiet in the living room. Henry was playing with a Lego's Star Wars fighter ship and didn't look up, but as usual this wasn't really noticed. The other three looked at each other tentatively and said nothing was going on.

"You're just sitting down here together, without the TV on, for no reason?"

"We were just talking, dad. You always say you want us to."

This didn't sit well with their mom. She felt something was up. She looked around the room uncertainly and then said, "Where's Will? What did he do now?"

Henry looked up at this and watched his brother and sisters' responses. They glanced at each other again, but it was Marissa that answered sweetly. "It's nothing mom; he was just tired and went to bed early."

Judie looked at her children in such a way that they knew she wasn't buying it at all. She and Mike didn't say anything, however, and just went straight up to Will's room. They peeked in to see their son curled up on his bed, again in his khakis and long sleeve button-up shirt.

"What do you think?" Judie asked.

"I think we need to see how he's dressed when he comes down for breakfast in the morning."

"I think were thinking the same thing," she replied. "I'm taking off work tomorrow and I'm going through this whole room."

"I think that's a good idea. Let's call the guidance counselor at the school and have them go through his locker, too."

This time they didn't even bother with the sheet. They just closed the door and let him be.

The next morning, on Wednesday, Will once again awoke before his alarm, and with the same problem. He had major wood. This time he tried lazily jacking it, ignoring his need to pee. It felt good, a little, and he rubbed on it for several minutes until he could just no longer sustain a real interest, despite a smoldering need to have an interest.

Once again he started a shower and jumped in immediately to have his morning piss hit the tiles almost as high as he was. And once again he came down stairs, solemn, without regard for anyone at the table and dressed in khaki pants and a long-sleeve button-up shirt. He sat down at the table and began wordlessly putting scrambled eggs on his plate.

"Will stand-up," his mother said. He did as she asked but jerked his hands away as she began to unbutton one of the sleeves of his shirt.

"Stop! What are you doing?"

"Give me that arm back or I will bend you over this table and paddle your behind."

Better that she see the redness on his arm than down his crack, so he hesitantly gave his arm back and didn't jerk it away. His mom rolled up the sleeve and looked at the back of his forearm. "What's this?" she asked.

"Sunburn," he muttered.

To his surprised she accepted it and moved on, not only without another question, but also without looking more closely at it. Instead she rolled his arm over and began peering at the underside of his arm, running her thumbs up from the wrist to the inside of his elbow, stretching the skin this way and that. She even checked the inside webbing of his fingers.

Then she did the same thing to his other arm, leaving the boy bewildered, especially as she barely even looked at the top of his arm where the burn was. She was only interested in the underside of his arm and between the fingers.

"OK," she said when she was done, "Socks, and shoes, off."

"What? Why?"

"Do as I say young man. Now sit down and prop your foot up on my leg."

He did as she asked and again was mystified when she said, "Sunburned on your legs, too?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was wearing shorts. At Dean's house last weekend."

But once again she seemed to accept it at face value and watched as she examined all around his foot and between the toes. The other kids just watched in silence. She asked for the other leg and repeated the same process

"What are you doing?" He asked exasperated, having now given up worrying about what she might say about the fading redness. If she had actually looked more closely at the red areas, she would have seen that they were too uniform and discrete to be a sunburn. Plus there was no peeling of the skin. Instead, however, she was focused on a more important task.

"I'm looking for track marks."

"Track marks?"

"From needles, to see if you've been shooting up."

"Shooting up?" He repeated quietly and then looked around and noticed that his dad was finishing a very thorough search of his backpack.

"Nothing. It's clean."

"Have you guys gone mental??" he began laughing, "I don't do drugs!!"

"Well, then why the long sleeve shirts every day?"

"Because I thought you would be mad at me for getting a sunburn." Will huffed as he pulled his shirt sleeves back down and rebuttoned them.

"Why on earth would I ever get mad about that?"

He held his arms out in a frustrated manner and said "Cause you're always going on and on and on about wearing sunscreen and how important it is and-"

"You watch your tone with your mother, son."

He sat back down to put his socks and shoes on and just mumbled, "I don't do drugs."

"Well, we'll see about that today. I put your toothbrush and some toothpaste in the downstairs bathroom. You aren't allowed back upstairs until you get home from school.

"Fine," he muttered, and began to eat his scrambled eggs. He wasn't hungry anymore; he just didn't know exactly what to do with his hands and mouth, So, he just shoveled in the eggs.

His mom did a thorough inspection of his bedroom and bathroom but found nothing but an old playboy with pages missing. The resulting magazine was so tame that she tossed it back under his mattress without giving it a second thought to him having it. At school, he had to stand by his locker while the counselor and assistant principal went through every item within it. They even had a drug dog, but the dog found several joints and three baggies of marijuana - just not in Will's locker. For that matter, they were in five lockers near his, but not anyone he ever hung out with.

In the office he was handed a cup, and a young officer stood by to watch him pee into it. Will very carefully pulled his penis out of his fly in such a way that neither the reddened root or the red and swollen testicles would be in view, although his face couldn't have been any redder. He filled up the cup, but it would test negative.

"Do you think it could just be sunstroke or something? I mean he has been very tired, and he has that sunburn . . . "

Judie shrugged her shoulders, looking to see if Mike found it plausible.

"Maybe. Maybe that mixed with regular adolescence. We had it pretty easy with the first two. Maybe this is the payback."

During PE, things progressed just like Coach Maguire said they would. Coach Peterson was busy with a problem on some bleachers that weren't retracting properly, so Maguire tasked Coach Jenkins, who was the assist coach for the after school program, to check on the boys.

"Look you two don't really seem like you need to be babysat, do you?" Coach Jenkins asked them after he was told to check on them toward the end.

"No sir."

"Good, because I really don't have the time. As long as you are ready to go at the end of the bell, and you don't tear anything up, I don't really care what you do back there. Agreed?"

It sounded good to the boys, and Will ended up taking out a lot of built up rage on the punching bag, with Curtis looking on in concern.

"Did you, uh . . ." Curtis started carefully as the two walked into the showers. "Um, maybe, mention the doctor thing to your parents?"

"No, I'm OK." Will said, but gruffly and very unlike him.

It was all business in the shower that day, just cleaning off and getting redressed.

When he was home, Will felt a bit better and more relaxed after being able to hit the punching bag for a while. His arms were sore though, and he had no idea how hard he was hitting it, or that he went longer than someone several years older than him would be able to do.

At supper, Henry was once again talking excitedly about the upcoming state capitol trip. It seemed only eleven kids were going, with four chaperones, but once again the only one Henry mentioned was Peterson. Was his little brother so in need of attention that he fell for whatever this guy was pushing?

Finally, Will woke up at the dinner table. He had to tell Coach Maguire. But wait, tell him what? That when Maguire was there and they were in the shower nothing felt weird, but when Peterson was there Curtis got the heebie jeebies? He couldn't say that.

He could tell him about Colin and Caleb. Yes. Except that would not only be more hearsay, but also be a pretty poor way to treat the trust of a friend. Beside, if Colin and Caleb's dad did nothing, and he was a cop, that might only convince his parents to let Henry go ahead and go, thinking it was safe.

I'll just have to confront them directly, he thought. What he was going to say, he had no idea.

"Mom, dad," he asked them after supper and after his brothers and sisters had gone upstairs. "Can I talk to you about Henry's trip?"

"What about it, Will? I'm not sure what his trip has to do with you."

"Well, it's just that . . . . you see . . . . . uh . . . . "

"Spit it out."

"You can't let him go!"

"Oh, dear, not this." His parents had been talking recently, about Henry and about Will, They realized that Henry was becoming more withdrawn, and Will had simply been becoming more controlling and derogatory towards his little brother.

"No, I mean it; it's not safe."

"Will, why do you have to insist on making your brother miserable?"

"What? No . . . I'm not . . . I-"

"You saw just how happy he was to go on this trip, so you had to come up with a way to ruin it."

"No . . . no . . . it's not safe . . .it's . . ."

"How is it not safe, Will?

"It's . . . . It's not . . . . you can't let him-"

"How is it not safe, Will?"

What if Colin was right? What if by making an accusation with no proof, his parents could get sued? And he said Peterson was connected at the state level. Even Henry mentioned that Peterson was getting them in to see the governor. What if he knew enough people to really screw over his parents? Will felt his stomach just churning and twisting in on itself.

Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe it's just all in his head. Except the more he thought about his brother alone with that man the sicker he felt.

"We're waiting, Will."

"I . . . . I, uh . . . . . I can't . . . . please. . . . .just don't let him go."

"We aren't doing this," his mother said.

"Young man, I thinking you need to just go straight up to be-"

"DAMMITT!!! YOU ARENT FUCKING LISTENING TO ME!!!!!"

Will yelled out with animal voice, too deep to seem to have com from him and accompanied by a visible rage that was scarier than if he had a chainsaw in his hands. It made his mother shrink back in fear.

But as soon as it came across his face, it left again. They weren't thinking drugs anymore, but they were thinking maybe a psychotic break, and the fear that maybe their son was going crazy had an icy sudden grip on their hearts.

"Sorry." He said hoarsely and with some trepidation. He gripped his stomach tight, as if an alien were about to burst from within, and his parents were half expecting one to. "I . . . . I think I . . . . . I think . . . . . I need to see a doctor."

Mike and Judie nodded their heads. That much was obvious.

"Do you, honey, feel like you need to see one . . . . right now?"

"No, but this week, or soon next week."

"Are you sure? You look to be in some kind of pain."

"No."

"Sweetie - " she started, but still kept her distance.

"No, mom. It's not me . . . . I'm just worried . . . ."

"About what?"

"Henry," He said very quietly, more to himself than to them.

"Look," his dad said, moving very cautiously toward him and talking slowly and carefully, "Let's just say nothing is definite, and we'll talk about this tomorrow, OK?"

Will nodded but still clutched his stomach. He didn't understand where this rush of feelings came from, or why he seemed so unstable, even to himself.

"I'm not crazy." He said plaintively, but it almost sounded more like a question.

"Of course you aren't, of course you aren't."

His dad had reached him and gingerly pulled him into a hug. The boy didn't resist, but he also didn't let go of his stomach. He felt very nauseous, so much was still left uncertain.

"Let's just all go to bed," his father said soothingly, "and we'll all talk about this in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Will mumbled.

"He's still throwing up! Something is not right, Mike! We need to take him to the emergency room."

"They'll just commit him to the hospital in the state he's in."

"Maybe that's what he needs."

His wife was visibly shaking, so Mike offered, "Listen, I'll go upstairs and lay down with him until he falls asleep. OK?"

Judie nodded. It was getting harder to stop the tears. "Well, we can't let Henry go. Not now."

"I know. I know."

"And you better damn well make it up to Henry."

"I will, I promise, dear."

"Go, go take care of Will."

The next morning passed about the same as the last few had, except now his dick was leaking. He again had his morning piss in the shower, and again dressed himself in his long sleeve shirt and khakis, leaving his mom and dad to further suspect that their son was going crazy. Judie had spent half the night reading about schizophrenia on the Internet and was only somewhat more comfortable that he seemed to be too young for it.

But she couldn't eat a bite that morning. And Mike had about a bite and that was it. Marissa and Melanie looked guilty as hell about something, but no one noticed. Henry was the only one that looked happy, but that crashed moments later and his soul felt crushed when his parents revealed that he would not be able to go on the state capitol trip the next week. There was just too much going on within the family.

Henry looked at his brother angrily. He knew that Will was to blame somehow. More than somehow. Will was the only problem in the family currently.

As for Will, he didn't look happy, but he did look relieved somewhat, as if he had been in extreme agony and somehow felt it suddenly lifted away. He actually began eating breakfast for the first time in days, A lot of breakfast. His calm actually unnerved and disturbed the rest of the family, enough so that Marissa and Melanie felt the guilt lessen and the annoyance begin, and for his parents to question if they had been played.

"You fucking bastard!!" Henry screamed at him, unable to keep it bottled anymore. "I hate you! I HATE you!!!"

Henry ran up the stairs, back to his room. Will didn't want Henry to hate him, he really didn't. Before, that wouldn't have bothered him, but now it did. However, now the relief outweighed that concern. And though it wasn't true, it looked as if he didn't care.

"You satisfied?" his older brother asked.

And without thinking about it, Will nodded his head.

"You disgust me."

"Ricky . . . " his mother started, but didn't have the energy or heart to finish.

The statement only caused a moment's pause in Will's chewing, but then he remembered - Henry was safe. Mission accomplished. And he went right on chewing.

His dad had left the kitchen to comfort Henry, promising him that he would make it up to him.

"Promise?"

"I promise. In a spectacular way, OK?" as he hugged his youngest son.

Henry nodded. "I want him to be miserable, too."

Mike didn't say anything. It wasn't exactly how he wanted his kids to grow up, wishing one another were miserable. He was wondering at what point he had failed them.

Judie took off another day and decided to keep Will home for the day.

"I'm OK mom. I can go to school."

"I don't think you're OK." I think you're crazy. But she didn't say that last part, and she didn't want to think it either. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Henry."

She looked at her son, wondering briefly if there was a sociopath in there, living just to torture Henry. But last night he had seemed genuinely upset. It's hard to fake the level of worry he had shown.

"What's wrong mom?"

"Just tell me you aren't out to get Henry."

"I don't want to hurt Henry."

It was said so plainly, so matter of fact, so innocent of guile. It was hard not to believe. But that's just the way the demon children were in the movies. That was silly. She had just seen too many movies and was letting her imagination get the best of her. But still . . . . all the same . . . .

"You aren't doing any devil worship, or anything like that, are you?"

There was a pause while he regarded her and then asked in a tone that suggested that he was the one wondering if SHE had gone crazy.

"Are you serious?"

"No . . . no, of course not . . . .It's just. . . . .It's so all of a sudden, and these rages, so . . . .so . . . .intense, and seeming from nowhere. I just don't understand it."

"That's why I wanna go see the doctor."

"Right. Of course. Uh, well, I think it would be best to see Dr. Kincaid, instead of one of his associates, but he's out of town."

"When will he be back?"

"Next week."

"OK, I can wait, I think."

"Good, because I made an appointment for both you and Henry on Tuesday morning."

"Wait, I don't want to go with Henry."

"It'll be good for Henry as well, to have you there as an example of seeking good health care."

"I don't want to be an example for Henry."

"Well, you'll have to make up your mind, Will, are you going to be a protective older brother who's there for Henry, or not? Because if you really want to be, then I expect you to be a role model for him in regular aspects, like going to the doctor for a well visit. Well, a well visit for Henry. A sick visit for you."

"I don't want to be a role model!" Will started, his voice raising, "I don't want the twerp around! All I wanted was for him to be saf- . . . I mean I didn't want anybody to m- . . . . . . "

Will took a deep breath and tried to relax, as his mom watched his wind-up critically. "OK, OK, fine. Can I at least have 5 or 10 minutes alone with the doctor?"

"A couple minutes, but I expect you to start getting over your shyness about your body, especially if you go around poking your nose in Henry's business."

Friday morning came with no breaks in the hard dick wake-up department. The red marks were decreasing; if he looked hard enough in the mirror, he could only just imagine where the one above his lips had been. The rest, though, were still slightly obvious, though no longer painful. He switched to using just the lotion in areas of friction, but he still felt compelled to wear a long sleeve shirt.

His parents still gave the knowing looks to each other when he came downstairs, but they didn't say anything. They also gotten used to him showing up hard under his Khakis, such that they hardly noticed that, worried as they were about his mental state. He could feel surges of aggressiveness within him, but he managed to keep them under control.

At school, Will just kept his head down. Everybody knew that something was going on with the boy, but his friends just gave him some space. It helped that he still had not been 'outed' as a baldy, yet, in PE. He tried to put it in perspective, that he was just one of a almost half the seventh grade class that didn't have hair, yet, at least that's how he hoped the statistic ran.

However, some anger building up inside him kept him from looking at it rationally. He just couldn't figure out why he was feeling this way; something unnatural seemed to be driving it.

And then there was the problem with his erections. They were occuring harder and more often, but it wasn't until he was practically leaking that he could get the interest to go all the way to an orgasm. But even once he did that, he felt unrelieved. Something felt missing, like he went up a huge hill and down the other side there was a fun dip, but he hadn't even dropped 10 percent of what he went up.

Somehow, he had to get back down to level. He didn't feel that the orgasmic need was what was driving theses rages he felt, or the extra aggressiveness he was having to control, but it somehow kept him feeling bloated, in a way. An even odder feeling was the last two times he went to take a dump, he had a serious urge to jerk off. When his logs went moving past a certain point on his rectum, something inside him just went haywire, but a good-feeling haywire, and he suddenly found himself wondering - what would it really feel like if they went back in as well as out?

Will was so lost in thought that he walked straight into something with a much bigger mass.

"Watch where you're going little punk!" Harley Rowen shoved Will to punctuate his meaning and domination. Harley was a static bully. He didn't go looking for people to bully, but he would dominate those around him. He was an eighth grader with about 4 inches on Will and 50 more pounds.

Will looked up at the boy and reacted. All he remembered was being shoved and then seeing the bigger boy slung backward into the brick wall behind him, this time punctuated with, "UUnnppphhff."

Will didn't even remember the reaction of the students that stepped out of his way as he walked on to homeroom. That had been his whole week so far, a dim haze of anger and frustration, and now increasing whispers in the halls. To top it off, he had severely pissed off and hurt his little brother and had even lashed out a couple of times at his friends.

In PE, he one again took out as much frustration as he could on the punching bag, until finally Curtis tapped him on the shoulder. Will swung around by reaction and took a swing at Curtis that the boy narrowly dodged.

"WHOA! Whoa, whoa whoa! What the FUCK is wrong with you?"

"Uh, Curtis . . . oh . . . . hey. I forgot you were in here."

"Really? I think I noticed that, round about the time you wouldn't talk to me and I was doing all the work assigned us by myself."

"Oh man, I'm sorry, Curtis. I was thinking and . . . . . well, actually, maybe I wasn't thinking, because I don't remember anything . . . but I was just . . . . I just . . . . . needed to hit this thing."

"Yeah, well," Curtis seemed a bit moody himself, "I'm surprised you have any arms left. I'm going to get a shower."

Will felt bad about ignoring Curtis the way he did, but his head felt so cloudy, and he felt nervous about getting in the shower with Curtis. It wasn't because he was worried about Curtis, but more about himself. He seemed frozen in his decision to go into the shower with the other boy or not. He actually thought how nice it would be to go into the shower early, in order to have extra time and just talk to Curtis. Both of them would be stripped down to bare essentials, with nothing to hide, so to speak; somehow it seemed that that would make conversation more real and more enjoyable. On one level at least.

It would probably be even more enjoyable if there wasn't some sexual tension there that he still didn't understand. He didn't know if it was because of his recent condition, or a condition of puberty, or a condition of his underlying and developing desires. He really felt that he was too young to have to think about these things.

"Hey!"

Will looked up to see Curtis standing there in just a towel.

"Are you going to get a shower or no?"

"Um, yeah, I'll come in with you."

"Dude, I'm already done! Have you just been standing there the whole time?"

It was then that Will noticed Curtis was completely wet, toe to head. How did he miss that? He cleared his head and mumbled something to the red headed boy and walked past to get his own shower.

"Hey," Curtis said, grabbing his arm and stopping him, "You look kinda dazed, uh, if you want . . . . um . . . .I can come back in the shower. You know, if you, uh, needed any help, um, which you wouldn't, so, uh, never mind, stupid idea."

Curtis let the silent boy go and when he was past him hit his own wet head several times. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he said to himself.

Will stripped down and wrapped a towel around himself and grabbed his lotion. He didn't want to put it on in the dressing room if Curtis was going to be already dressed and just waiting on him. He headed into the shower and on his way past the towel hooks, he stopped and stared. He had never really noticed them, even though he used them. They were over six feet up, so he would have to reach up to grab one, but wouldn't accidentally walk into one. They consisted of a series of rounded polished wood rods about 3/4 inch thick, and it looked like each was screwed in at an angle.

They were probably made in shop class by some student. He recognized that possibility, but that wasn't what he was actively thinking at the time. Will looked back into the room and saw that Curtis had his back to him and was drying his hair. That action left his perfect butt open for viewing and a bit of jiggle in those white mounds. Just where the boy's legs parted he could even see the slight curve of the dropped hairless nutsack. It was all that Will could do not to stare, and his penis rose quickly and steadily to a full hard staff, in about 4 seconds time. Will looked back at the towel rods and the lotion in his hand and knew what he had to do.

Curtis heard the shower going as he was pulling his briefs up and turned around, half expecting - and maybe half hoping? - to see Will's naked body under the spray; but Will was out of view on the other side of the shower, around the corner from the entryway. Curtis saw the towel hanging from one of the pegs, but what he didn't notice was that one of the pegs was missing.

Will was thankful he had brought the lotion, and used a lot of it. He was scared, wondering if what he was doing could injure him somehow, but at the same time propelled onward by an understood need that he did not understand.

He felt the rounded, blunt tip of the peg press against his hole, and he screwed up his courage and pressed it home, surprised at the feeling as it just opened his hole and allowed the anal muscles to spread around and grip the lotioned end, amazed at himself as he assisted the peg inward, the 3/4 inch width stiffly holding his canal open as inches of polished wood flowed past, and then it seemed to hit a bump, a speed bump, of sorts, and as he went over it, he cried out it surprise.

"Are you OK" Curtis hollered in from the bench where he was putting on his shoes.

"Yes, YES. . . nnnghhh . . . . just . . . .nnggooohh . . . . . .JERKing . . .OFFfffnnghh"

"Um, OK. Well, have fun." He mumbled the last words, a small part disappointed that they both couldn't be doing that in there like friends, even though a larger part of him just thought that would be weird.

"Oh FUCK nngguuaahhhh . . . mmnnghh . . . . uuunnghh . . . .ffffffnnnughh . . .sshhh. . . .mmm . . .fucKK! . . .gyaahh . . fuhh . . .mmm . . .nnnghh."

However he was doing it, it sounded like a tsunami of an orgasm was coming, and Curtis was straight enough to be uncomfortable just listening to another boy do that, at least without having a third boy here to laugh with about it. So he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door. Even from there he could hear the boy.

It finally died down and he slipped back in. He could here his friend panting in the shower. It must surely have been a killer of an orgasm. Maybe that was what Will needed; why he didn't just do it at home, Curtis didn't know. Curtis was about to call out some friendly half-ass jibe when he heard:

"Aauuww . . . ffffuckk . . . . mmmnnh . . . yes! . . . unngh . . .Yes! . . . .nnngguuhhhohhhgyaahhh . . .fff-sshhyahh . . . .fff-"

Curtis stepped back outside. Damn, he was doing it again?? This soon? He must have REALLY needed relief bad. Again, a small part of Curtis was a little bit pissed that he couldn't play a role, but he largely tried to ignore that part as he didn't understand it.

"Bedwell, what are you doing outside the Athletics door?"

'Uh, Coach Brown, I'm uh, well, you see, me and, uh, Will, um, Gant, are uh . . ."

"Yes, I'm aware you get to use this room until after Monday, but where's Gant?"

At this point, Coach Brown, who was the actual 7th grade PE coach, came up to the door and could hear the moans himself. He put his hand to the knob and asked, "Is that Gant?? Is he all right?"

"Oh, don't go in sir, I think he's, um, you know . . ." Curtis made an embarrassed and quick jacking-off motion.

Coach Brown released the doorknob and was amazed at the sounds coming out, even through the shut door. The reverberations of acoustics in the shower probably helped that. Listening more closely, the moans, gasps, and interjections did sound more pleasurable than painful.

"Well," he said uncertainly, "If you're sure he's ok."

"Oh, I'd guess he's probably better than OK, sir."

"Um, Right. I guess . . . .Well, to be 12 again, huh Bedwell?"

"Sir??"

"Oh, uh, nothing. Never mind. Just, uh, when you hear the sounds die down, stick your head in and tell him to get dressed. You still have a few minutes to get to class."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and, uh, Bedwell," the coach said jokingly as he was walking off, "If it sounds like he's going to start up on round two, stick your head in and tell him to stop."

"Oh, um, sir. This, uh, this kind of is Round Two."

Oh. Right. 12, I forgot."

"What, sir?"

"Nothing, just . . . . . just come and see me if you need a pass to the next class."

"Yes, sir."

They did need a pass. It took a while to clean that peg and get it put back. Curtis just stayed out in the hall until Will came out and found him sitting there. Now it was Curtis' turn to be moody, not that Will noticed. He felt so amazingly refreshed, like he had come down that hill he had seemed to be stuck on.

All through lunch the boy was talkative and back to the old Will, joking with his friends. It was Curtis this time, sitting back and not contributing, watching his friend Will and wondering what was going on with him.

His family, too, thought it was a bit strange that he was so cheerful and compliant with direction that afternoon and evening. It, unfortunately for Will, only strengthened the theory between his parents that he was having a psychotic breakdown. But he was 12. What 12 year old had psychotic breakdowns? Nevertheless, they were glad they made the second appointment.

The next day Will spent working around the house with his dad (they didn't trust sending him off with his aunt), while the rest of the family spent the day at the water park. He didn't seem to be harboring any anger toward not being able to go, and he was really throwing himself into the work. The two of them got a lot of work done, and they ended up working 12 hours that day.

"Are you, all right, dear?" Judie asked Mike.

"No. I kept thinking he would wear out first, but the kid just kept going and going. I don't think I'm going to be able to move tomorrow."

"Well you two sure got a tremendous amount done."

"Is he asleep already?"

"Right after supper, same as it has been all week."

"Those doctor's appointments won't come soon enough."

Sunday the cheerful and obedient Will seemed to have gone out for the day and left behind the surly and moody one. He got into verbal fights all day long with his brothers and sisters. No one saw the Rage come back in him, but there were snippets where it seemed to be coming. And, quite frankly, they were all getting tired of walking on eggshells around him.

Henry was just tired of having him as a brother altogether and asked his parents that night if they could just trade him in, instead of taking him to the doctor.

"Henry, you two used to get along."

"Not since last year. He just didn't want me around. Then he just started being mean. I wish I could show him what it's like being the younger brother."

"Well, we'll get you two back to being brothers."

"I told you I don't want to. I just want a new brother."

"Maybe he will be a new brother, and maybe we can find a way that you would like to participate in repairing that relationship. Just give us a little time."

Henry just grumbled and left their room.

"How are we going to do that?" Mike asked his wife.

"I don't know. We need some options."