Alright, guys. I haven't been getting a lotta emails lately. I need your support and your emails because they're the reason why I write. This story is purely fictional...based upon my imagination. It does involve some sexual elements, though it is mainly about love and how it could come in all forms. Please send, all comments, good or bad to me, steve, at aramflag@yahoo.com
Derek's knees almost died when his eyes saw the mansion, a pure marble castle which he thought only existed in his dreams. A butler stood at the doorway and greeted Derek as he climbed out of the white limo. The butler was a young man in his early twenties whom Mrs. Carter had personally hired. The butler had a girlfriend somewhere in New York, but his eyes were nearly blown out of their sockets when they saw Derek. The butler had never seen anybody...anything as radiant or as flawlessly beautiful as Derek. The sunlight seemed to cling onto Derek's body and follow him wherever he went. Derek was the physical manifestation of the Greek god, Apollo, thought the young man, forever young and unimaginably beautiful. The butler wasn't sure what had caused his stomach to tie itself into knots as soon as he was in the enchanting 12-year-old's presence. Was it envy? Admiration? Fascination? Curiosity? Or worse yet...was he attracted...no way. He wasn't gay. He had a girlfriend in New York...
"Hey, I'm Derek," Derek mumbled shyly, shaking the butler out of his trance. "Stan, the limo guy, said you'd show me around."
"Oh...please...come in. The Carters have been expecting you." Derek, at this point, was as giddy as a school girl who'd just lost her virginity.
"This is awesome!" Derek thought to himself. "I'll be working for and living with the richest family in Nebraska! This mansion's amazing! I love it!"
Derek's composed countenance betrayed little of what he was actually feeling, however, as he was being led by the butler through an endless maze of identical hallways. Each hallway was like something straight out of the Palace of Versailles. The limestone floors were smooth and shiny and looked like a vanilla/chocolate milkshake frozen in time, milky white with random swirls of black which blended together to create a fascinating pattern. The walls were carpeted with a soft, green material and were lined with expensively colorful portraits of old men and middle-aged women in suits and dress skirts and pure white doors between each portrait. Three or four chandeliers dangled down the ceilings as a door within one hallway led to another identical hallway within which a door was opened and led to another...
At first, Derek was fascinated by the fanciness and the unnecessary decorations of each hallway. But as he was led by the butler through what felt like several thousand monotonously similar chambers, he began to yawn and show signs of boredom and fatigue.
"Hold on," said the butler. "We're almost there."
When they reached the last of the identical hallways, Derek saw two ivory double doors standing in the end of the hallway...something that the other hallways didn't have.
The butler stood at the entrance of the double doors and pressed the doorbell, which protruded from the wall to the right of doorway.
"Enter," said a voice from within the doors.
"You may go in, now," said the butler.
Derek tentatively pushed the doors open and stepped in, while the butler took one last glance at Derek, before walking through to yet another hallway.
Stepping through the ivory doorway was like walking into another dimension. On the other side of the door was a long, narrow room, similar in structure to the interior of a subway train. It was so empty that one could almost hear the air flow within the walls. At the distant corner of the room stood a wooden desk. There, at the desk, sat Mr. and Mrs. Carter, the genius couple behind the multi-million dollar industry that dominated Nebraska. Neither the wife nor the husband were particularly old. They were still in their late thirties. But both had sleepless eyes, graying hair, and sagging chins from the endless hours they spend per day of maintaining and managing their huge business. The two of them were looking forward to their spring break vacation. All they had to do was to confirm that somebody would look over their house while they were gone and they were out of here.
When Mr. Carter saw Derek, he looked at his wife questioningly.
"This is who you hired?" he whispered. "Some adolescent kid from the streets?"
"He said he'd do it for $8.00 an hour," Mrs. Carter countered. "That's only one- fifth of what that Cuban refugee you wanted to hire was charging."
"That's not the point," exclaimed Mr. Carter. "Can't you see? This kid's a freeloader! If we hire him, he's going to live in the mansion and gets paid for it? Who wouldn't want that?"
"Isn't that true for everybody who 'works' for us? Isn't that true for every one of the twenty maids and butlers that you've hired?" said Mrs. Carter. "Why do you have to hire so many people? Why do you have to keep wasting our money like this?"
"Look...I don't trust this kid..."
"He is twelve years old!" said Mrs. Carter. "How much trouble could he cause?"
"But..."
"We're hiring him! That's final!" yelled Mrs. Carter. "You wanted a housekeeper...I got you a housekeeper. Let's just hire him, go on our vacation, and get on with our lives!"
"Um...hello," Derek said tentatively, interrupting the couple's conversation.
"Oh...hi," said Mr. Carter, trying to look composed and not overly anxious to leave. "What's your name, boy?"
"Derek."
"How old are you?"
"Twelve." Mr. Carter studied him incredulously.
"Why do you want this job?" said Mrs. Carter in a sweet, yet fake voice.
Derek looked down onto the ground.
"I want to earn money to take care of my dying mother," was Derek's response. These words that flowed out of Derek's mouth ushered a wave of sympathy and understanding from Mrs. Carter, for she, too, once lived a paycheck-to-paycheck life, supporting her dying sister. She saw Derek and wanted, very badly, to go over to him and give him a nice, comforting hug.
"That's good, Derek," Mrs. Carter heard her husband retort flatly and without much emotion. "Tell me. Do you have any experience in housekeeping?"
Mrs. Carter, enraged at her husband's heartlessness, punched him in the arm.
"Ow..." he scowled. "What was that for?"
"You're such a bitch," she whispered back. Then, she turned to Derek.
"You got the job," she announced.
"But..."
"Do you want to get out of here or not?" scowled Mrs. Carter. "We're already two hours late because you had to interview the new housekeeper?"
"Fine, fine. Alright! We can leave."
The truth was, Mrs. Carter had reasons, other than her impending vacation, behind her quick decision to hire Derek. She felt sorry for Derek. She could tell that the boy didn't go to school and that he had to live a paycheck-to-paycheck life. She knew that Derek wasn't a freeloader. If he had been, he would've demanded the whole $40.00 originally offered for the job. She hoped, down in her heart, that Derek would save his dying mother in time. But she didn't want to tell her husband that. Her husband would've laughed at her.
"The butler shall take you to your room," were Mr. Carter's last words to Derek, before the two of them left, through the back door, to a getaway in the Bahamas.
Joe looked out his window into the star-lit sky. There were no shooting stars tonight. Just a bunch of shiny, blinking masses and milky streams within the night sky.
"Wish upon a star," Joe thought to himself, mocking his own stupidity. "I'm really getting desperate."
Once again, Joe was distracted. In front of him was a shit-load of work...reports and assignments of economics, business, and all other useless shit...that he had to complete by the time his parents came back from their vacation. And Joe, instead of working valiantly to get it done, was staring out the window into the night. What was he looking for? Hope? Salvation? Friends?
"I gotta concentrate," Joe thought to himself. "This isn't even that much work. I should've finished it a long time ago."
If only wishes upon stars did come true. If only an angel did descend from the heavens and liberate Joe from this hell.
"C'mon! Concentrate!" Joe urged himself. "Get this done so that you could enjoy your spring break, already!"
Why was life so unfair? Why did Joe have to be born to such a wealthy, stuck-up, materialistic family? Joe never wanted to be a businessman. He knew that he could never become one without killing himself after the first year. What Joe wanted, more than anything, was to be an artist.
He could picture it now. Joe Carter...an art prodigy, famous around the world for his unique and stunningly life-like depictions of unrealistic or non-existent beings or events. His paintings and sketches...displayed and admired by people of all ages in museums and exhibits around the world. He would put on live shows three or four times a week, putting his talents and skills on full display by sketching a fresh, new work of art in front of an amazed live audience. These shows would take place in Venice, Rome, Shanghai, Cairo, Dubai, Tokyo, New York...all of the world's greatest cities would host his exhibitions. Joe Carter...world famous artist...international celebrity...an impossible fantasy.
"Shit...I can't concentrate!" Joe thought to himself, slamming his fists against his wooden desk. "Maybe I'll do the work later." With that, Joe rose from his chair, abandoning his homework, and decided, instead, to get some fresh, new clothes from his closet to take a shower. Perhaps the relaxing flow of the hot, steamy shower will wash away his stupid fantasies and help him to concentrate on the here and now of reality.
Derek stepped into the shower, becoming more and more amazed at the torrents and torrents of unexpected luxuries that continue to pour themselves upon him. It was hard for Derek to imagine that weeks ago...no days ago, he was still bathing in a moldy, wooden tub situated beneath a metal faucet, behind the cheap, run-down bar that he used to work for...a far cry from the elaborately tiled floors that were beneath his feet and the tall, glass cubicle, with its copper-framed door, that enclosed his naked body. And his room! Derek's room was amazing! Big and spacious, with a soft, cloud-like bed and a drawer full of clothes! Expensive clothes that Derek sees on regular kids his age everywhere he goes...clothes that he would've given anything to have just weeks ago.
The hot water was steaming up the glass panels of the cubicle...something Derek had never seen before. The bathroom he was in was really fancy with a marble sink and the most gorgeous faucet he'd ever seen before. Most of all, the bathroom had THREE doors! Three! (Well...four, actually. Derek didn't notice the fourth one...the one in the very corner that connected to Joe's room.)
"This is amazing!" Derek exclaimed to himself, in a sing-songy voice. "I hadn't seen anything this awesome since...since...since I was at that doctor's..."
The doctor! The doctor!
Horrific memories suppressed deep within Derek's mind surfaced again and before long, he was reliving, through his mind's eye, that horrific night...that shameful night that he was deflowered, exactly the way it'd happened. Everything around him blanked out and erased itself away from existence...everything, including the fancy bathroom and the shower. In its place stood a dark, room, painted white on all four sides. There is a small bed with flowery, oriental bedsheets and a smooth, wooden desk in the corner, filled with barrel loads of medical papers. In the bed, under the sheets, was the doctor...excited, anxious, impatient.
"Come in!" he said, as Derek stepped into the room. Derek wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He wanted to bolt out and forget about this whole incident. But he couldn't. His mother's life was at stake. This doctor already agreed to treat her for free...all he needed was one night...just one night, in bed, with the doctor. And he wasn't even that bad-looking. The doctor was relatively young, perhaps late twenties or early thirties, and was handsome, but not stunning. Still a hell of a lot better than some of the other doctors in town, though. And besides...it was sex. Derek might actually enjoy this...
"Come on!" said the doctor, agitated by Derek's reluctance. "Your mom's dying and you're just standing there?"
Hesitantly, Derek climbed into the bed.
"Good boy..."the doctor smiled. With that said, the doctor started filling Derek's face with sloppy, lustful kisses and began ripping Derek's clothes off. He began groping Derek...squeezing his nipples...biting his young, soft flesh. Derek screamed in pain. And in a display of sheer animosity, the doctor jammed something hard and painful straight up Derek's virgin hole. Derek began crying and begging the doctor to stop. But the doctor's eyes were blinded by lust as he fucked Derek harder...and harder...and harder. The pain...the pain was insufferable. Derek felt like his body was being ripped right in half, straight down the middle. He was bleeding and screaming, begging God to kill him and take away his pain.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity in hell, the doctor stopped suddenly and then he said...
Joe held his clean clothes and dragged his feet into the bathroom. When he walked in, steam flowed into his eyes and temporarily blinded him. It was hot...it was really hot. Joe began sweating, as he tried to navigate his way through the foggy bathroom...his foggy bathroom that some unwelcome visitor was using. It actually took a while for Joe to hear the sound of running water...but once he did, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that somebody was using his shower.
"Who the fuck is in my bathroom?" Joe spouted out loud, extremely irritated. "I wanna shower!"
Just then, the thick, white steam seemed to disappear into the air...or maybe it was Joe whose eyes had adjusted to the steamy surroundings. But it didn't matter. Joe turned his head and looked straight into the shower stall...the one and only glass shower stall within the spacious bathroom. Steamy water vapor clung onto the copper-framed glass windows of the stall, decorated by scattered water droplets that flowed, like rivers, down the misty windows. Joe peered through the steam to see who was inside.
When his eyes came into contact with the naked form within the shower, Joe's heart sank into his feet. His clean clothes that he held fell out of his forgetful grip, onto the floor. Joe's legs almost died, as his stomach tied itself into knots. What he saw in the shower stall was the most beautiful image he'd ever seen...and all the frustration...all the irritation he'd felt just seconds ago died.
In the shower was a boy...about five feet tall with shiny blonde hair and dazzling green eyes...standing sorrowfully as steamy water poured down onto his body. The boy was blonde, smooth, and young with a mesmerizing tan that ran down his body and was cut off at the waist, but continued down his legs. His body was perfectly proportion. Joe couldn't take his eyes off of the boy's beautiful bubble butt...so round and smooth. Joe gasped in disbelief at the image he was witnessing...it looked exactly like...like....
"Angel..." he gasped. "My angel..." Joe approached Derek... ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************
Derek's mind snapped itself back into reality, as he began to remember where he was and what he was doing. Suddenly, he saw a boy...a tall boy approach him in the shower. The boy was about 5"8 with long, brown hair and an athletic frame. Derek was strangely drawn to the boy. But the boy was fully clothed, while he himself, was naked. Desperately, Derek searched for something to cover himself up with...a towel...a cloth...any article or clothing...too late. The boy was already by the shower door. Moreover, he opened the door and Derek felt the chilly air flow into the hot stall.
"What the hell are you doing?" Derek cried, embarrassed.
"Oh...what..."was all that Joe could mumble, as he snapped out of his trance.
"What are you doing?" Derek repeated, placing his hands over his penis.
"Oh...Oh..."
"Shit..."Joe thought to himself, having realized that he'd unconsciously walked in on somebody in the shower. "God...I look like an idiot...think...think"
"You're in my bathroom," Joe said lamely. "I...I was just about to take a shower."
"Your bathroom?" said Derek shyly. "Oh...sorry about that...I'll just leave right now." Derek began to step out of the stall.
"Oh...no!" said Joe. "You could stay if you want."
"Huh?" Derek said with a confused look on his face.
"Shit...now the kid thinks you're a pervert! He thinks you wanna check him out." Joe thought to himself. "Think...think..."
"Oh...I meant you could finish your shower, if you want," Joe stuttered. "I can wait. Really..."
"Oh...it's okay," said Derek, as he walked toward the door in the farther right corner of the bathroom, picking up his dirty clothes and wrapping a towel around his hips.
"My name's Joe, by the way," said Joe as Derek walked away. The younger boy turned around.
"My name's Derek." For a moment, the two boys stood there, staring at each other, neither knowing what to say. Derek looked at Joe in awe. Joe had pouty blue eyes, thin, red lips, and a bronze-colored face. His arms were thick and muscular and his legs were to die for. Derek began feeling stirrings...primal stirrings within his body. He was attracted to Joe. Joe was hot. But Derek couldn't let Joe know that. He just couldn't.
"So...how'd you end up here?" Joe asked.
"I'm the new housekeeper...for the Carters," Derek replied.
"Whoa...shit! They hired you?"
"Yep..."
"Oh no...I didn't mean anything by that," Joe said quickly, sensing that he'd offended Derek. "I'm just saying...you're really young, especially for a housekeeper. How old are you?"
"I'm twelve," Derek answered. "I'll be thirteen in three months."
"Wow...I'm sixteen," said Joe. "You're the first person my parents have ever hired who's younger than me. You probably won't have to do that much work, though. We have, like, fifty housekeepers and twenty-something maids and butlers."
"Wait...your parents?"
"Yeah," said Joe. "The business tycoons, the Carters, are my mom and dad."
"Your life must be awesome!" said Derek, beaming.
"Well...no"
Suddenly, a loud thud was heard from Joe's room...a loud, terrifying thud that shook the walls.
"Oh shit!" Joe muttered. "He's here."
"Who?"
"Derek...you gotta run...now!"
"But..."
"Derek...go!"
Derek ran toward the door.
"Aren't you going to come with me, Joe?"
"I can't!" Joe replied. "If I do, he'll get suspicious!" Derek looked back and nodded, stepping through the door, into his room. From inside his room, he heard a big, fat, Asian voice cry, "There you are!" that sent shivers down his spine. ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************
Keisuke had been more brutal than ever. Derek could only imagine the pain and the torture that Joe was being forced to go through at that exact moment. He crept into the corner of his room and shuddered. Punches, kicks, and loud, piercing shrieks of pain could be heard from where Derek was. Derek felt the pain...he felt Joe's pain piercing through his own body...flowing through his own veins. Derek couldn't bear hear Joe suffer...the screams and the sheer agony. Then...it stopped.
"Little bitch!" Derek heard a loud voice say, as footsteps resonated out the door. After a couple of minutes, sensing that Keisuke was gone, Derek creaked the door open and crept into the 4-doored bathroom. He grabbed a small towel off of the towel rack and placed it under the sink for a while, until it became cool and damp. Then, mustering all the courage he could manage, Derek walked into Joe's room and gasped.
There, on the floor, was Joe...beaten, bruised, and bloody. Derek walked up to Joe, who was breathing heavily through his sobs.
"Joe..." Derek whispered, tentatively approaching Joe's limp form. "Are you...are you okay?"
Joe moaned quietly...a clear no. But Joe's eyes were calm and inviting as he looked at Derek, which was a sign to Derek that he was safe to approach. Derek walked up to Joe and cleaned his wounds with the damp towel. Joe sat up slowly and met Derek, face to face.
"It sucks that you have to go through this...day after day," said Derek.
"Yeah...it does. It really does," responded Joe.
"Why does he do that to you all the time?" Derek questioned. "Why don't you just call the police or something?"
"The nearest police station is 50 miles away. They don't even bother to take care of us," said Joe. "Plus...I have no clue why he does this...I..." Tears began to flow down Joe's face. "Keisuke just hates me...he feels like he needs to beat me up."
"It's okay," said Derek, embracing Joe tightly. "You're gonna make it, Joe. Just stay strong." Joe nodded, as Derek continued to wipe Joe's wounds. Maybe life wasn't so bad after all. Sure...he still had to deal with Keisuke's beatings. Sure...he still had to cope with his enormous workload. But now, something was different. Joe had a friend...somebody he could talk to...somebody he could depend upon for comfort and support. It was his angel. And his name was Derek. But deep down, Joe knew that he wasn't happy having Derek as just a friend. He wanted to do more with their relationship. But not now. Not tonight. That chilly night, Derek and Joe slept together in each other's embrace. It was the beginning of something new...something new and wonderful.
Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been really busy lately. Please email any and all comments, good or bad, to me, Steve, at aramflag@yahoo.com.