Castle Roland

Rock and a Hard Place

by Hans Schreiber


Chapter 24

Posted: N/A


I spun frantically and pounded on the door with my fists. "Open up! They're gonna kill me! Please! Please! Dear God, save me! Please God, save me!" Renaldo and his gang members laughed hysterically. A firm hand gripped the back of my collar and jerked me away from the door. I was whirled around to find my six attackers sneering with delight. "C'mon, leave me alone. I'm sorry about what happened in the lunchroom. I didn't mean anything. I'm getting out of here tomorrow, so I'll be gone and you won't have to worry about me anymore."

"No, Blanco, you're not getting out of here so easy. Everyone must know you don't mess with Renaldo. When I'm done with you, you will be begging to die. Oh, and I am still going to fuck you."

"All right, but I'm not going down without a fight. I promise you, I can inflict some serious pain. How about you just rough me up some and let me go. I'll tell everyone that you kicked my ass and fucked me until I bled. You can keep your reputation. I just want to get out of here and forget this whole nightmare ever happened. My family's rich, I can pay you."

"It's not about dinero, Blanco. It's about respect," Renaldo said. "Ese, take him down and strip him naked, so's I can fuck his ass."

One of them grabbed my jumpsuit and I gripped his wrist, jerking it downward and twisting. I spun him around and lifted his wrist up along his spine so hard that I dislocated his arm from the socket. He cried out and fell away from me as a second attacker threw a punch to my gut. I tightened my abs and his hand practically bounced off. He gripped his wrist in pain and I took the opportunity to stoop and slide my arm through his crotch. I lifted him up and spun him like I was one of those stupid ass TV wrestlers then slammed him full force into one of the wooden benches. I was pretty sure I'd broken his back from the sound of the crack. He grunted and rolled to the floor groaning in serious pain.

It became clear that Renaldo had no intention of being involved in the fight. He was just giving directions to his underlings which gave me an idea. I thought if I could bring the fight to him, maybe he'd call it off. I'd already seriously disabled two of his beaners and shaken the confidence of the others who were hesitating. Two down, four to go.

I capitalized on that moment of hesitation, like I'd learned from wrestling, and launched myself toward Renaldo. He backpedaled quickly and twisted as I tackled him near the cage door and easily maneuvered him face down against the painted concrete. I lay on top of him and put him into a full nelson. I stretched his arms backwards and forced his neck down so that his chin buried itself into his chest. He began yelling," You're so fucking dead!"

"Not if I kill you first!" I lifted him off the cement and pounded his forehead hard against the unforgiving floor. He screamed in pain. I lifted him again and drove his forehead into the concrete one more time. He yelled out, "Do something Bull, or I fucking swear, Pablo's dead." Sudden understanding filled my mind as I realized why Bull had joined into the ambush on me. Renaldo had used threats of violence against Pablo to force him into this. With a renewed fury, I lifted Renaldo off the cement, fully intent on killing him if I had to. Before I could slam Renaldo's face back into the blood splattered floor, I was gripped around the neck by Bull's strong arm, putting me into a sleeper hold. He was stronger than anyone I'd ever wrestled against, and he was squeezing my airway shut.

"This is it," I thought to myself, "he's gonna kill me to save Pablo." Somehow, in a strange way, dying for some kind of purpose seemed less futile and more acceptable. It was not as though I really had any choice in the matter, but there was at least a small amount of nobility in it. Naturally, I had to release my hold on Renaldo and make an attempt, pointless as it was, to free myself from Bull's death grip. Bull flipped me over at will and sat on the floor, leaning his back against one of the wooden benches with my back pressed against his chest and my body between his legs.

Renaldo ordered the two gang bangers, who I hadn't incapacitated, to rip my clothes off. Bull released his grip just enough to prevent me from passing out, on Renaldo's order. He said he wanted me conscious for my fucking. Each breath had to be forced through my restricted windpipe in deliberate, painful gasps. My jumpsuit was unzipped and quickly clawed off of my body along with my boxers. Each gang member took hold of a leg and pulled it upward and outward. I kicked my right leg, shaking off the gang creep and then I kicked him in the jaw. Then my airway was pinched completely shut. I clawed in panic at Bull's arm. The gangster took his place again and held my leg. The grip was loosened and I dragged in a laborious breath.

Renaldo grabbed my boxers and used them to stem the flow of blood from his nose. His speech was slurred and he seemed disoriented. I think he was suffering from a mild concussion resulting from the blows to the concrete. Renaldo slid between my thighs and brutally shoved his dick into the crack of my ass. He wasn't fully hard and he cursed his own dick. He grabbed it and furiously beat it seeming confused why it wouldn't stay boned up. I wondered if the concussion caused that to happen as well. Renaldo stood and stuck his half limp dick in Bull's face.


Bull didn't speak but refused the order. Renaldo screamed the order again and added a string of Spanish that included Pablo's name in it. Bull slumped and reluctantly sucked Renaldo's dick into his mouth. Renaldo's ass cheeks rested on the top of my head. I could smell the stink of his sweaty asshole and I fought against growing ill from it. I feared that vomiting might have been fatal, caught in Bull's stranglehold.

Renaldo emerged mostly erect and quickly took position and began ramming his damp cock against my asshole.

Bull hawked up and spit a mouthful of slobbery slime onto my arm and it dribbled slowly down my bicep. He spit several more times on me, apparently trying to get the Renaldo taste out of his mouth.

"No, dammit!" I said defiantly to Renaldo. It didn't come out as forceful as I meant it to because of Bull's grip restricting my airflow. But my resolve was very strong. I'd lost too many things already, but I was not going to give my virgin experience up to this demon. I resolved myself that I was probably going to lose my life, but I was not going to lose the choice of who could and who could not enter my body. This was going to be my last stand. With all my might and intense concentration, I clenched the ring around my anus defiantly shut.

Renaldo pushed as hard as he could to force his angry boner into me. The harder he pushed, the more I resisted. As we engaged in our struggle, images of Dig pushing against my quivering ring, that night at the bonfire, blazed into my memory. I'd actually been prepared back then to reluctantly give up my virgin status in order to save Dig from making a big mistake with Rochelle. Now, I was fighting to preserve myself from the same sort of terrible invasion he'd seemed intent on inflicting on her. I felt renewed compassion for her and understood better the immense appreciation for my intervention. I clenched harder as Renaldo smeared his own blood over his dick to act as a lubricant. I would not give in. As Renaldo resumed his frantic, frustrated efforts to impale me, I resisted with a renewed energy and forced my thoughts away from Dig and onto the magnificent, loving experience that I'd shared with Scotty and what I had planned for the future with him if, by some miracle, I lived through this.

"Give me the bottle!" Renaldo screamed in frustration, anger, and rage. One of the creeps holding my leg let go and scrambled away. When he returned, he handed Renaldo a broken shard of glass that had been filed down to a fine edge.

"I underestimated you, Blanco. You really do have beeg balls, but I'm going to change that right now." The black haired devil grabbed my balls and sliced my sac open. It took a moment before I felt anything, but once I did, I erupted with a garbled scream in horror at the concept of losing my testicles. I thought about William's half empty sac and found myself fulfilling Renaldo's prophecy by wishing I was dead.

"Dear God," I said, "forgive me for the mistakes I've made. Please bless my friends and my parents. Let this end."

I heard a booming Baritone voice cry out, "NO MAS! NO CUT BALLS!!" The grip on my neck was released and Bull flew over the top of me, tackling Renaldo. Renaldo began cursing in Spanish and I heard Pablo's name over and over. I assumed he was making threats to attempt to tame the raging Bull. Bull flung Renaldo into the cage. The cage shuddered and rattled, and then Bull lifted him effortlessly off the ground and literally threw him like a plastic blow up doll across the room. Renaldo's head struck a bench and he dropped lifeless to the floor. The other bangers made a brief, half hearted attempt to take on Bull, but he kicked one in the groin so hard, I fully expected that he would end up losing a testicle or two as well. He screamed out in agonizing pain. The last one standing raised his hands in surrender.

Finally, the door popped open and the look of absolute shock on the faces of the two guards as they surveyed the scene was almost comical. They'd expected to find me bruised, abused, and bleeding but they were not prepared for the rest of the carnage. I was squeezing my sliced up scrotum to stem the flow of blood as it oozed between my fingers. I had no idea whether or not he'd actually severed my testicles.

One of the guards rushed to Renaldo and went ash grey as he announced that he was dead. Jefe Lewis released a violent string of profanity and then sensibly called for help. Before help arrived, they tried to piece together a story of a general brawl. They each cut the other with the sharpened glass shard and took turns smashing their own faces against the metal cage and the benches to appear they had been in the middle of the fight.

By the time help arrived, the two were bleeding and looked as battered as the rest of us. Only Bull and one gang member were not seriously injured. Medical help was brought in, and I was taken by ambulance to a nearby medical facility. I remember a young paramedic holding a compress against my balls and the oxygen mask being strapped over my face. The twists and turns made by the ambulance made me slightly nauseous and I was glad when they pulled up under the well lit canopy of the emergency room receiving area. The doors were pulled open and the driver unclamped my gurney and jerked it out of the ambulance door with a clatter. The legs dropped and locked into place and I was wheeled into the emergency room.

They transferred me to a hospital gurney and the paramedics shoved a clipboard in an ER attendant's face and had me signed for like I was some kind of Fedex package and then they rushed off. The guy holding the pressure on my sliced up balls looked very happy to turn me over to the ER nurse and get out of there. I was examined by a couple of medical people, given a shot and drifted off to nothingness.

When I woke up, there was a young cop sitting next to my bed. I was desperately thirsty and asked for a drink. He stepped to the door and a petite, blonde nurse came in to check on me and brought me a cup of ice chips. That's all I was allowed to have initially. The cop, who had been openly flirting with the pretty nurse, followed her out of my room when she left. I wondered why he was there. I assumed, I must still be considered a prisoner, or youth offender as they preferred to refer to us at Juvey. I learned later that he was, in actuality, assigned to protect me in case of attempted gang retribution. I think everyone was nervous about potential liability for what had happened and they didn't want to chance any more complications.

With major trepidation, I reached down to feel for my balls. I slipped my hand under the sheet and under the pale blue hospital gown that was draped loosely over my naked body. My fingers were actually trembling as I slid them down my rippled abs. I halted just above the point where my dick protruded while my brain tried to process what was wrong. "No hair," I muttered. I was completely shaved. I traced down until I felt the emerging protrusion of the base of my now hairless dick. I moved from side to side, only to encounter the baby face softness of naked, barren skin.

I took my dick in my fingers and lifted it up and away from my balls. Then I resumed my exploration of my scrotum. It was bandaged up near the top of it, and I traced my fingers gingerly around the white tape that was wound completely around the upper section of my sac, holding the gauze in place. I moved cautiously downward until I found loose, naked skin. My stomach knotted. I continued down until I found, to my great relief, two large, and very tender, balls. I relaxed and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. I left my hand resting on them lightly, just for reassurance, as I drifted back into woozy slumber.

I was awakened several times by nurses taking my vitals. Each time I fell back asleep. Breakfast arrived and I managed to eat a bowl of cereal and drink the juice. Nothing else looked even mildly appealing. I started to ask the nurse about my balls, but she cut me off and said I should talk about my condition with the doctor. That troubled me, making me assume the worst.

In the early afternoon , the attorney my father had arranged for, arrived. He sat in the visitor chair, placed a recorder on my tray, and commenced asking me questions. He first asked me a few general questions about myself and what I was like as a student and about my interests. We spoke for a while about wrestling since he had been a wrestler in High School too. When I mentioned that I had some interest in becoming a lawyer, he effused for ten solid minutes about how much he liked the occupation. After that, he transitioned into questions about my experience and probed for details along the way. I told him the complete truth about the events as they had unfolded. When I mentioned the lie the guards came up with at the end, he filled me in on the expanded lie concocted by the guards.

The attorney had receding, grey hair combed straight back. He wore an expensive looking black suit and a conservative blue-grey necktie left partially pulled down from the collar. He was chewing gum and the influence of my mother in me wanted to chide him for it and suggest he spit it out. I resisted saying anything, but it annoyed and distracted me some. He had a voice as smooth as melting ice cream, and I think he could have gotten me to confess to masterminding the 9-11 attacks if he had wanted to.

"They claimed that they didn't know both you and Renaldo had been given the same punishment detail of cleaning the showers at the same time," the attorney explained. "Apparently, that part of their story had already been in place before they discovered the messy situation," my attorney surmised. "They also claimed that they both foolishly left the room together to gather up the cleaning supplies, against policy and protocol. They said it was during this absence that Renaldo attempted to rape you. They further claimed to have rushed back in when they heard the commotion and were immediately attacked themselves. The story on Renaldo is that he must have slipped in the melee and hit his head on the bench through no one's fault but his own. His fellow home boys are saying the same thing about that part and I'm not sure why, unless the guards threatened them somehow. It's also possible that Renaldo wasn't all that popular of a leader amongst the gang membership. I have a source who suggested that, at least. Really, it works in everyone's favor if that remains part of the story." The attorney gave me a questioning look and asked, "That is how that part happened, right?"

"Umm, yeah, right. What should I do about the rest of the guards' story?" I asked. "Do I go along with them, or do I tell the truth?"

"I recommend the truth."

"What about Bull and Pablo?"

"Both have been transferred out of the facility. They should be safe," the attorney said to my relief, clearly understanding why I had asked without me saying.

"Bull saved my life. Do you know what Bull is saying about what happened?"

"No, I don't have any idea about him."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"When you're able, you will leave the hospital in the care of your parents. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go home to your father's house just in case there is some attempt at retaliation. The plan is for you to go stay with your mother for a while." My heart sank. As much as that made sense, I hated hearing it. I considered it a transfer from one prison to another, only with the threat of physical harm switched to that of mental abuse.

"So, I'm not a prisoner anymore?"

"No. You're released and charges are dropped except for a misdemeanor of driving without a license."

"Why's the cop here then?"

"They are worried about gang retaliation. This is a very dangerous and powerful gang you've gotten mixed up with. They kill people for sport. I asked for a cop to be here until you can go home and they readily agreed."

After my attorney was done speaking with me, a police detective joined us. He sauntered in wearing a very cheap suit that might have been purchased from a thrift store. His plaid tie didn't match his striped jacket. It was, at least, tied up tightly against his thick neck. His belly hung over his waistline and he had the annoying habit of tugging the waistband up regularly. We had a long, long interview with my attorney present. My attorney only restricted me from answering two questions, and I told the whole story with one minor modification that caused my attorney to smile slightly in the background. I told the detective that in the confusion, I couldn't be sure how Renaldo fell and hit his head. I said, it could have been one of the other gang members, or he could have just fallen on his own. I didn't hold back about the smuggling operation, though, and I told them exactly what Jefe Lewis and the escort guard were up to. I told them where to find the stash of drugs in the cell behind the grate under Renaldo's bed, and I thought the detective might actually wet himself with excitement over that bit of information. He smiled, set down his notepad, and did a two handed tug on his waistband.

The detective thanked me and shook my hand. "Thanks for the details. Keep your head down a while, okay. I'd like to see you keep it. You seem like a decent kid." Turning to my attorney, he said, "If I have more questions, I'll contact you first." He stood, tugged sharply all around his sagging waistline and left.

Shortly afterward, my father came in, looking downcast.

"Hi Dad." I tried to sound cheerful for his sake.

"Hello Kyle. What happened to staying out of trouble for just one day?"

"I know, but it wasn't my fault," I protested.

"I know. I know. Trouble just seems to find you." He took my hand and said, "You need to go with your mother for a while until we're sure this whole thing has blown over. These are dangerous people that you've crossed up with."

I shook my head understandingly. "But only until it all blows over, right? Not for too long, okay? Maybe we could just move somewhere together where the gang wouldn't find us?"

"No, it's best that you go with your mom for now."

"All right, but promise me it's only temporary?

"I promise. I told you before, I'll always be there for you."

"Is she mad?"

"Mad doesn't even begin to describe it. She is fuming at me. She blames me and rightfully so."

"Why? It's not your fault. I'm the one who took the car and started this whole mess."

"Yes, but I should have been there for you and not left you on your own so much." He sat down in the visitor chair and sighed deeply.

"No dad. Mom should have stayed home and been there for both of us. I really don't want to live with her. You know what she's like. She'll drive me crazy and try to run every little detail in my life. I promise I won't be a problem anymore. No more crusades for me. Of all of us, Dad, you're the least to blame. I just wish you hadn't been in surgery when the police called and you could have rescued me from Juvenile Hall." Dad shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Then he slid it closer and he reached out and took my hand in his again and looked me in the eye. He started rubbing his neck with the other hand and that always meant something bad was coming.

With an obvious nervousness, totally uncharacteristic of my father, he said, "I wasn't in surgery. I spoke to the police when they called the hospital. When I heard the story, I was angry with you. I was especially bothered that they mentioned how you told them about an out of control party at our house and that you were found with a trunk full of liquor. You promised me it was just a couple of friends coming over and I had trusted you. Instead, I imagined you hosting a wild, drunken party. Of course, at the time, I didn't know it was my liquor in your trunk. I also didn't get all the details straight about what you and Scotty had been up to and …" He looked away. "I had no idea what Juvenile Hall would be like. I asked the police not to tell you that they spoke to me. I just thought going to Juvenile Hall might scare you into thinking through things a little better if you … I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm so sorry."

The realization dawned on me and I pulled my hand free of his. "Are you saying that you chose not to come for me? You let them put me in Juvey?"

Dad nodded slowly and apologetically. He opened his mouth to say something in his defense but nothing came out. I also lay there in speechless disappointment. After a very uncomfortable pause, he said, "I agreed to press charges. No, to be truthful, I insisted on pressing charges for the stolen car and have you sent to Juvenile Hall in order to try and teach you a lesson. If I'd known, I never… never."

I started to hyperventilate. My tender windpipe constricted again, almost as if Bull had his strong forearm pressed into it. "Then … why … didn't you … take me home … yesterday … when you visited me? None of this … would have happened … if you had?" I had to force the words out.

"I wanted to, but it turns out that it was a lot easier getting you in than getting you out. I couldn't get anything done until today about getting you released."

"How could you do that? How could you think I deserved to go to Juvey? I'm not a bad kid; everything I've done has been trying to help someone else. Why would you let them send me there? I could have been killed and it's just lucky I wasn't. If Bull hadn't changed his mind about helping attack me when Renaldo tried to hack off my balls, I'd be fucking dead now, and it would be your fault! How could you?" I was red faced and angry and shaken to my core. I'd been thrown to the wolves by my own father. He was supposed to protect me and love me, but he betrayed me. I looked him straight in the face and said in a stern tone, "Go away."

"Kyle, please don't. Don't hate me."

"I don't hate you; I just want you to go away. I want to be alone."

"Kyle. Please."

"GO AWAY!" I winced in pain at the overuse of my injured throat. He pushed away from my bed and walked out dejected, shoulders slumped, head bowed, wiping at his eyes.

I looked for something to throw at the door when it closed but there was nothing handy besides my urinal bottle. It was about a quarter full, but I didn't even hesitate. I threw it with all my might at the door, and then I just pounded my fists furiously into the mattress which caused my sore balls to ache from the jostling. Such began the greatest loss of all my many losses I'd endured. Our relationship would never be the same from that moment on.

Tears streamed unchecked as the anger turned to sadness and self pity. Over and over, I played it out in my head. He sent me there. He sent me there on purpose. He sent me there to suffer and almost die. How could he send me there on purpose? None of it needed to happen. I could have gone home just like Scotty did with his parents who loved him and loved each other, but no. He tried to teach me a lesson. Everyone's so intent on teaching me lessons I don't need to learn. Why won't they just leave me alone? So much for never abandoning me, I thought. As bad as I hated the thought of going to stay with my mother, I felt it was better than staying with him now. The level of betrayal I felt was overwhelming. I thought I should pray, but I'd also felt a little abandoned by God lately. He hadn't exactly spared me either. A guilty pang shot through my mind accompanied by the words, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, my child."

The nurse walked in just then and took one look at me and grew concerned. Then she noticed the mess on the floor. "Are you all right? Are you in pain? What happened in here?"

"My balls hurt, and my throat does too. I'm sorry about the mess, I got sorta mad and threw my bottle in anger. It was stupid of me. I'm sorry, I'll clean it up."

"You're not allowed out of bed just yet. Don't even try to get up. Next time, try to find a less messy way to express your anger, all right?" She was unbelievably calm over the mess I'd made.

"I'll get you something for the pain. Can you swallow a pill or do you prefer an injection into your IV?"

"I think I can swallow." I was sad and sullen and it invoked sympathy from the nurse in spite of the mess I'd made. When she left, I noticed that the cop was still sitting outside my door. She must have told him what I'd done because he opened my door and peeked in then looked at me oddly. She quickly returned along with a cleaning person who had to mop up my spilled piss off the floor. I took the pill and had to try three times to get it down. Each time it reached the back of my throat, I gagged it back up. When it did go down, it felt like I'd swallowed a walnut. I decided to take the injection next time it was offered. I drifted off to welcome, yet fitful, sleep soon after taking the pill.

When I woke, I was in the presence of angels. Scotty, William and Brenda were there. Brenda was sitting in the chair and William and Scotty were standing beside my bed. William was chatting about his testicle removal operation and giving way more detail than was comfortable, especially in the presence of Brenda. Brenda didn't seem to be bothered by it at all, however. "Hi guys."

"Kyle, how are you feeling, dude?" Scotty asked, moving to my bedside.

"Not too bad, really. I should be out of here in time for the Fall Formal for sure. Wow, I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you guys. Thank you for coming." I had to try and wipe at my eyes without being too obvious about it.

"I'm just glad you're around to be seen. It sounds like you went through hell. Your dad kind of filled me in," Scotty said. "I was terrified for you."

"Oh, do you in actuality anticipate an ability to attend and participate in the Fall Formal?" William asked, glomming on to that tidbit of reference by me.

"I don't see why not. I should be well enough in a week. By the way, how are the decorations working out?"

Brenda perked up and said, "Wonderfully. Everyone's excited about having their pictures on the walls. The tulle is wonderful, we already hung three runners of it to test it out and with the twinkling Christmas lights, it's honestly like you're outside looking at the night sky. I didn't want to help with the decorations at first, but I'm so glad you got us into it. I can't wait for the dance." She stood up and walked over to William and slipped her hand in his. He went a pale crimson and then smiled at me. I was warmed by her expression toward him and wondered what prompted it.

"If your incapacitation persists, I am fully understanding and withdraw my expectations that you attend with me. I am not afraid of being there without you as long as I am with Brenda. I find her to be quite compatible and comfortable to be with."

"That's wonderful. I'm seriously very happy for you guys." I smiled at the two of them.

"William is very nice. He treats me wonderfully and I love how absolutely open and honest he is. It's refreshing in this artificial world full of pretense," Brenda said.

"So you two are like a couple?"

Brenda smiled and shrugged and William wrinkled his brow and said, "A couple of what?"

"No, I mean like you're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Oh, we are indeed friends, and yes of course, I am a boy and she is a girl. That seems rather obvious." Everyone gave a short chuckle over his innocent remark. The look he gave me left me uncertain if he was messing with me or if he really hadn't understood. That happened a lot with him and I do sometimes think he purposely messes with my head. Then he launched directly into his next thought train to leave the station and asked me, "When the boy in your prison sliced your scrotum, did he sever your vas deferens?"

I shook my head and blushed. "Honestly, I don't know. I haven't spoken to a doctor yet. I guess I was asleep when he came in to check on me this morning. I don't think they were cut off."

"Did you retain both of your testicles then?" William pressed on.

"Umm, William, maybe we should talk about something else while Brenda is in the room."

William looked at her and said, "She doesn't mind. I have given her a detailed explanation regarding the excision of my testicle. She is also quite fully versed in the male anatomy being the older sister of two younger brothers whose diapers she has changed and who she has bathed regularly."

"You know, maybe I will step out for a minute and let you guys chat," she said, squeezing William's hand and then slipping free of it. She came to my bedside and took my hand and said, "Get better quick. I'm so glad nothing worse happened to you. You're a good person. I love how kind you are to William." Her kind smile and gentle touch was indeed angel-like.


She stepped out.

"Man, I gotta piss so bad. That IV's gone straight to my bladder. William, will you hand me the piss bottle please?" William lifted the replacement bottle, the nurse had left for me, off the rail and passed it to me. He launched into a description of the male urinary tract and bladder system and trailed off wondering how girls urinated in the hospital without a penis to direct the flow. I suggested he look it up on the internet when he got home, and he made a mental note to do just that. I finished and shook the last drops into the bottle, capped it, and William took it from me to hang up. I nearly filled it full and was worried it might overflow. "Whew, I feel better, Thanks."

Neither guy could resist the temptation to gawk at my naked groin and bandaged balls, and I felt a little self conscious about filling the bottle with an audience. Since they both had not only seen me naked before but had touched me, it was less disturbing. Still, I was unavoidably embarrassed by it slightly. After I hung my bottle, and before I pulled the covers back up, William leaned over my crotch and began closely inspecting my injured area. "Your bandaging suggests a significantly different injury from mine. It was completely improper for him to slice your scrotum. Proper removal of the testicles should occur with an incision in this locale." William traced the spot just to the side of my limp dick where his scar is located from his operation.

"Yeah, well the guy cutting on me wasn't exactly board certified."

Scotty laughed but William looked at me quizzically.

William reached out without asking and fingered both of my testicles. "It appears that if your vas deferens were severed, the surgeon successfully reattached them, which is most fortuitous."

"Yeah, definitely fortuitous." He let go of my balls and I pulled the covers back up to my chest.

"Dude, no offense, but you look funny without any pubes. You look like an oversized twelve year old."

"It feels strange too. You know about it, don't you William?"

"Yes. I must forewarn you, it is exceptionally itchy there when the hair initially regenerates."

"So tell us all the gruesome details, dude." Scotty pleaded. "I was so freaking worried about you. I felt like I was abandoning you when I left with my parents and felt bad about it, but there was nothing I could do. When your dad came and talked to me and my parents about what had gone down and told us you'd actually gone to Juvenile Hall, I could hardly sleep afterward. Like I knew that lady cop said you would but I couldn't really believe it." Scotty stepped in closer where Brenda had been standing, and I began my blow by blow description of my harrowing tale for the third time. I began where Scotty left me behind at the police station. I told them all about Pablo and Bull. They wanted detailed descriptions of the facility and the people. They wanted to know about what I was feeling along the way and I told them I was scared to death. Then, I told them about the initial shower experience and the inner probing of my anus and the drug smuggling operation.

"Oh my God, are you telling me that some guard actually has to fish up inside the buttholes of every kid that goes into Juvey?" Scotty asked.

"Yeah, sick, isn't it?

"That belongs on America's dirtiest jobs, only they couldn't air the episode on regular TV, at least not during Prime Time. I wonder if they take turns or if like the newest guy there gets stuck with that duty?" Scotty was laughing incredulously.

"To be honest, I think this asshole volunteered for it. For one thing, he was on the take, getting bribes to look the other way when stuff was getting smuggled in. But I even think he liked doing it because when he did me, he spent a long time examining my dick and balls and even had to adjust the boner in his pants after he checked me out."

Then, of course, I described the lunchroom fight and ended my story with the shower brawl.

"Scotty," I said earnestly, "I didn't let him fuck me. I refused to let him in. I wanted to save that for …" I realized William was there, and I almost let the cat, so to speak, out of the bag. If William caught on, he didn't show it. I continued, "Anyway, the harder he tried, the more I concentrated on clenching my ass ring shut and keeping him out. He got so frustrated and pissed off that it sent him into a rage. That's when he decided to try and cut my balls off to get even and make an example out of me. God, it was so scary. I got a little taste of what you must have gone through William. I know this sounds crazy, but the idea of losing my balls was almost scarier than expecting to lose my life."

"Did you pray?" William asked.

"You know I did, but the only time I really felt anything like God was hearing me was when I prayed for your safety or for Pablo and Bull. When I prayed for myself, I got nothing."

"You prayed for me? Why?" William asked.

"To keep you safe from those creeps that took your old man. By the way, have you heard from him?"

"No. Neither my mother nor I have received any communication regarding his whereabouts or condition. It is highly disconcerting."

"Disconcerting? Why? I think you'd be glad to be rid of him after what he'd been doing to you."

"Yes. In multiple aspects, our lives are improved without his presence, but I wish no harm or evil upon him. I am somewhat lonely when mother is working her second job at nights."

"I can understand that. We'll just have to hang out more in the evenings, I guess." William brightened with that idea and agreed that would be a wonderful plan. "I just don't know how long I'm gonna have to be at my mom's place."

"We'll miss you at school. I'm glad to hear you're still planning on going to the Fall Formal. What with you changing schools and all, I didn't know if you'd still go." Scotty said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know, since you're gonna be going to some private school, I didn't know if you'd still go to the Fall Formal."

"What private school? What are you talking about?" I was totally confused.

"Uh-oh. I bet I wasn't supposed to say anything." Scotty looked like a cat that'd just swallowed the canary.

"Are you kidding me? Now they're plotting about sending me to another school without even talking to me? That's seriously messed up. I bet my mom's behind that one. I wish everyone would just stop meddling in my life and trying to do what they think is best for me. I'm so fucking sick of it." I saw William's scowl and added, "Sorry, I mean freaking sick of it."

"Don't rat me out that I spilled the beans, okay? I don't want your parents pissed off at me or anything." Scotty requested.

"Don't worry, I won't tell it was you. Actually, I'm gonna bait them and start talking about how excited I am to go back to school just to see their reaction before I tell them it isn't happening. This is a load of bullshit. I'm not leaving the wrestling team or the debate team."

William suddenly realized the impact of what Scotty was talking about and said, "If you transfer to a private school, that would mean we will no longer be debate partners. That is completely unacceptable. You must most assuredly dissuade your mother from taking such a course of action."

"Trust me, I will. But think about it, William. If I did transfer out, you'd be partners with Brenda."

He stared at me, mulling that over and then after a lengthy and amusing pause said, "I'd still prefer you stayed. I think." We all laughed, even William.

Brenda stuck her head in and said, "William, I need to be going. Are you coming with me or will you find another way home?"

William became visibly excited and said, "I wish to return with you." He started toward the door and then turned back. "Wait, I nearly forgot." He came up to my bedside and fished something out of his pocket. It was my Screw Crew mood ring. "Hold out your finger."

William slipped it on my right hand ring finger and said, "If you get scared, just rub it and it will change color then you will know that I am thinking about you and praying for you. It really helps."

I choked up. "Thanks buddy. You're great." He looked a bit awkward and shuffled his feet a bit then stuck his hand out to shake it. I took his hand and pulled him down to me and gave him a hug. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed and hugged me back. With a look that said more than words ever could, he backed slowly from my bed then turned to hurry off with Brenda.

"You gotta love that kid, don'tcha?" Scotty asked.

"Yeah. He's so genuine and innocent. Too bad we all aren't a little more like him." Then I reached for Scotty's hand and he took it. "Someone else I gotta love is you. I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I thought we'd never get to share any more special moments together or that you'd never get to be inside me like we have planned or hold me or kiss your soft lips again." I didn't even try to hide the dampness in my eyes.

Scotty swallowed hard and was fighting tears himself. "I know. When I heard what happened, I was sick. I mean, I literally got sick over it."

"Kiss me," I whispered. Scotty leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. It was a symphony of sensations. I smelled his cologne and tasted his soft lips. He slipped his hand under my neck and I suckled on his bottom lip. My eyes were closed and I was transported to a beautiful place. Brilliant sparkling colors danced behind my eyelids as we kissed. Slowly, my penis twitched, then slid gracefully up along my thigh past the abdominal crease, until it was standing fully erect sending small tremors over the surface of the bed sheet. I was free, and I was safe, and I was in the embrace of my Scotty. We broke our kiss and he stared lovingly into my eyes. "Thank you God," I whispered "for saving me." A warm tingle radiated through me.

He closed his eyes and kissed me again, slowly tracing the tip of his artful tongue over my quivering lips. His hand bravely slipped beneath the covers and my gown and slid gently over the engorged tip of my twitching dick. He caressed the full length of my dick and back up again tracing slowly around and around the ridge of my overheated head, strained to its capacity from the blood rushing into it. I whimpered in ecstatic anticipation muffled by my lover's lips pressed to my own. I took his face between my palms and took control of the kissing, pressing and relaxing alternatively as I slid our noses from side to side.

When I felt his hand slip around the full length of my penis and begin its upward motion, I immediately cascaded over the waterfall's edge into powerful orgasmic spasms. Pent-up sexual needs and intense emotional love for Scotty combined to evoke an immense eruption. I felt his lips curl into a knowing smile as the first gush of boy love hit the sheet and spilled over his thumb onto my barren pubic mound. He slowly and gently milked me to a satisfying conclusion. Scotty had just begun tracing small circles over my barren, slippery mound when my door handle clattered.

In a nervous panic, we broke our kiss and Scotty jerked his hand from under my sheet. He waved it uncertainly in the air a bit trying to figure out what to do with the essence of Kyle coating his thumb. He moved toward my sheet, then his armpit, then just stuck it in his mouth and quickly lapped it clean turning away from the door as he did. Then, he stuck his hand in his pocket.

I reached down and grabbed the pale blue blanket and pulled it quickly up over the large wet spot on the sheet. The sexual discharge hadn't hurt me at all but the hurried bending at the waist to grab the sheet sent a painful shock through my groin. We were both fighting off nervous laughter as the intern doctor walked in followed by my mother. I freaked out. The smell of my cum was overpowering and even overwhelmed the sterile cleaning solution odor of the hospital room. I was mortified.

Scotty smiled politely and moved aside as the doctor approached me. Scotty greeted my mother who merely glared at him without even acknowledging the greeting. He stepped further away and stuck his other hand in his pockets, locking his elbows and forcing his shoulders into a sort of shrug.

"How's the patient? You were sleeping pretty soundly this morning when I came by," the young looking doctor said.

"I'm fine."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Kyle, tell the truth for once. You can't possibly be fine considering what you have been through. He can't help you if you don't tell him the truth."

"Nice to see you too, mom," I said sharply. She clucked her tongue at me and moved in closer.

"Let's take a look." The doctor took the blanket and sheet in his hands and I grabbed at them, holding them up. He looked at me questioningly.

"Not in front of my mom."

"Oh goodness, since when did you become shy? I used to change your diapers. You certainly haven't got anything down there I haven't seen before. I want to hear what the doctor has to say so let go and allow him to examine you."

I tightened my grip and the doctor relaxed his grip, uncertain how to proceed. I lifted the covers and allowed him a peek without my mother's ability to see. Instant understanding came over his expression and he struggled against a smile. "I think it is best if I examine your son in private. I'll call you in and discuss all of my findings with you when I'm finished." He said it in such a no-nonsense tone of voice that my mother didn't even argue with him. I was amazed by that and wondered if I could learn how to do that.

"Yeah, well I really gotta get going too." Scotty said. I'll see you later. Get better, okay?"

"You don't have to leave. Just hang out until the doctor's done."

"No, I really do need to go. I'll be back." He added a goodbye to my mother who mumbled something back without looking at him. She stood by my bedside with her arms crossed until the doctor looked at her and gave a firm nod toward the door. She grunted and wheeled around. When the door latched shut behind her, he retrieved a wash cloth from a drawer and dampened it with warm water. He put on rubber gloves and pulled the sheet and blanket free of my sticky groin. He tossed the damp cloth on my groin and smiled at me.

"Well," he said as he watched me clean myself up, "I guess that answers whether or not they still function properly. Was the experience pleasurable or painful?"

"Pleasurable," I squeaked out flush with embarrassment.

"Good." He cut the tape, removed the bandage and gauze then carefully inspected the stitches that ran fully halfway around my sac. "I don't think you'll have any permanent damage here except for a nice scar to show off. It could make for a good pickup line for you, 'Hey good looking, wanna see my scar?'" He continued to tease with me as he finished his exam.

"I'll call your mother back in now." He stepped out and returned with my mom. He stepped to my bedside and set his hand on my bedrail. "Kyle is doing well. The wound to his scrotum is stitched and looks good. There was no apparent damage to his testicles or the vas deferens cord that attaches them. He will be fine. The only possible concern is infection and we have him on some strong antibiotic which he will need to continue when he goes home. As for his throat, I have given orders for a solution for him to gargle with that will help it heal. I don't anticipate any permanent damage to it, but if the soreness doesn't diminish in the next week, we'll need to do some further testing."

"When can I take him home?" Mom asked.

"I think tomorrow as long as no infection develops."

"I have a school dance on Saturday night and I'm on the decorating committee. It'll be okay for me to go to that won't it?"

The doctor chuckled. "I don't think dancing would be a good idea that soon, but attending should be okay."

My mother jumped in, "Well you can just forget about that. You won't be going."

"What? Why? I'm committed to the decorating committee. I have to go."

"What you have to do is what I tell you. Things will be different when you live with me. You won't be doing what you want to do, you'll be doing what I say you'll do. And you won't be going to any school dance and that's final."

"Well, unless you have any more questions, I'll leave you to your reunion." The doctor leaned in close, raised his eyebrows and mouthed the words, "Good luck with her." Then he said out loud, "I'm going to tell you something I've never told another patient before - I hope you come again." He smiled widely, winked and gave my mother a polite nod as he whisked past her and out of the room.

"How odd," my mother said staring after him. "How very odd."

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