The Paperboy

I had a paper route as a kid and I know how the Newspaper and some of the customers fuck a kid over, so I am always kind to the paperboys and I always make sure that I tip them at he end of the month when they come to collect.

This kid had just started and was pretty new to the route. He was polite and well mannered, and he was able to get the paper to me on time and intact so I liked him. He was about thirteen, which is typical for paperboys. The Newspaper won't hire them until they're big enough to tote the bag, and by the time they're fifteen they figure out that they're getting screwed out of what they deserve or they want an after-school social life so they quit and get jobs elsewhere.

I was working in my garage when he walked up and handed me my paper, looked around nervously, and asked to use the bathroom. I directed him down the hall and he quickly shed his bag and sped off in that direction.

"Thanks." He said a few minutes later. "I couldn't have held it much longer."

"That's okay." I replied as he again donned his bag. "I won't tell Miss Pissy."

Concern clouded his face for an instant before he smiled with relief. Twenty years ago Gertrude Prissley had been the home delivery manager, a position that involved riding herd on the paper boys, and it wasn't likely that the old bitch had gone anywhere else. She had a lot of rules, and number one was that carriers were never supposed to enter people's homes, let alone use their facilities. This boy had also removed his t-shirt and stuffed itin the bag, which was also a noi-no.

"Well anyway, thanks again." The grateful kid said before leaving to finish his route.

Later that evening I remembered to check the videotape. Some of my pain pills were missing after the housekeeper cleaned, so I had borrowed a camcorder and spent most of the day concealing it so I could catch her in the act. It would have been easier to just hide the pills, but I don't have much to do anyway and I was looking for a reason to fire the bitch, so I rigged it to come on with the bathroom light.

I started the tape and sure enough, it revealed her closing the door, wiping around with her rags, then opening the drawer and pocketing a few of my pills. The tape stopped when she turned the light off and I was raching for the 'eject' button when it started back up as the boy entered the bathroom. It showed him hurridly pulling down his shorts and then standing at the toilet. He finished, rinsed his hands like a good boy, reached for the towel, reconsidered, wiped his hands on his shorts, and then turned towards the door. He stopped as he saw his relection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. He reached up and brushed his hair with his hand, looked around, and then pulled his shorts back down to see how his body would look to others. He ran his fingers through his sparse bush as if to fluff it up and make it look thicker, and then cupped his hairless balls to gauge their size. He finall stroked his cock a couple of time to enlarge it and then flexed his muscles in a he-man pose before pulling up his shorts and leaving the room.

The kid was a normal adolescent concerned about rather he was normal and it may have been the first time he had access to a full length mirror. I should have dumped the tape right then but instead I played it again and masturbated like a dirty old man in a porn theater, and then went to bed feeling guilty.

A month later the kid also got a job stocking shelves and bagging in the supermarket, and I commented that he would probably quit the paper route, but he said that he really needed the money and would keep both jobs, and that my lawn looked like it needed mowing and he would do that too. I asked him if he was saving for college, a car or bike, or what, and then he opened his mouth wide so I could see that he had two broken and discolored teeth.

"Mom can't afford to have these fixed, so I'm going to pay for it myself." He explained.

Most kids' spending decisions involve Big Macs or Whoppers, or Nikes or Adidas, and here this boy was busting his ass to buy a normal smile. I would have liked to have helped him, but I came home from Nam a paraplegic and I have to watch my spending pretty close just to get by. I did manage to keep the kid working around the house one day a week for most of the summer, and by September he had almost saved enough money.

"I'm still fifty dollars short." He said one day. "How about paying me in advance for the next five weeks?"

Like I said, I have a budget. I set aside money for my house payment, food, utilities, smokes, and a little beer. I also put aside fifty dollars a month for another vice, one I am neither proud nor ashamed of. My legs are useless, but I was still still a man and validated that once a month by hiring a hooker.

"I'm sorry, but I can't spare the money right now." I apologized.

"Shit!" It was the only time I heard him swear. "I'd do anything for the rest of what I need for the dentist."

"Anything?" I queried, making the biggest mistake of my life.

"Yes." He stated. "Anything."

The naked boy that stood before me had matured a lot since the illicit May pep show. Hard work and his adolescent growth spurt had enlarged and defined not only his muscles but other parts of his body as well. His downy bush was thicker and coarser and now extended towards his thighs and navel. I admit that what I did next was depicable, and it will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I didn't force him to do anything. I won't fuel the readers' fantasies or libidos with a description of the afternoon's activities; it is sufficient to say that they should have only occured between consenting gay lovers and not between a thirty three year old cripple and a desperate fourteen year old boy.

I never spoke to the boy again, but he communicated with me in other ways. My paper usually landed in the shrubbery where it was hard for me to get to, and my eggs were occasionally broken or my bread mashed in the grocery bags. I could have complained and had him disciplined, but I didn't. He eventually quit both jobs and went to work somewhere else where he wouldn't have to be around me. I saw him with some other boys now and then, and he would always flip me the bird, but I doubt that he told his buddies why he hated me. He moved away a year later and I was glad that he was out of my life.

May 2003

I was working in the garage when a car with out of state plates pulled into my driveway. I wasn't expecting company and I didn't know anyone from Texas so I was curious who it might be as I wheeled out to meet the car. A man about thirty, tall, fit, and well tanned got out of the car.

"Hello, Mr. Wilson. Do you remember me?"

I couldn't for the life of me place the guy and I told him so.

"I'm Tom Green and I used to be your payferboy."

My apogiizes for the act were cut short as he grabbed the chair and wheeled me into my garage. I have good upper body stength but there was now way I could resist the powerful younger man as he handcuffed mu wrists to the chair and stuffed a gag in my mouth.

"You ruined my life, you miserable piece of shit, and I've spent the last twelve years waiting to get even. I got my teeth fixed alright, and started dating, but the only problem was I couldn't get it up. The shrinks told me that it had something to do with me having been molested. Before you fucked with me I could get a boner just looking at pictures, but after you got through with me I went flat every timeI got naked with a girl. I was horny as hell and got a hard when I was making out, but evey time i got naked I remembered how much your cock hurt me and I'd get soft. Just after I turned eighteen I got caught messimg with a young boy and was sent to prison. Do you know what prison is like for a child molester? You liked it when I fucked your ass, but after a few years of getting it ten times a day you just want to kill yourself. All of that rooting around fucked up my prosate and it had to be removed, so now I'm permantly impotent."

He finished his speach and went back out to his car and returned with a twenty-gallon collapsible water jug and a length of heavy cord. He took a knife from his pocket and cut away my clothes, and for a minute I thought he was going to nut me on the spot, but I wasn't that lucky. Instead he looped one end of the cord around my balls, passed the other end over the garage door track, and finally tied it to the handle of the water jug. He went back out and retured with my garden hose, which he inserted into the filler of the jug.

"This jug will weigh about a hundred and seventy pounds by this time tomorrow." He said as he opened the valve to let water trickle into the jug. "Enjoy yourself and goodbye. I'll see you again in Hell."

I was truly fucked. I couldn't move and the gag kept me from hollering for help or chewing the cord apart. I considered turning the chair over, thinking I might get the cord tangled up, but I soon rejected that idea. He had tied the jug tight up against the ceiling and there wasn't enough slack in the cord, so I would just hang myself by the balls istead of waiting fo the water to do it. The housekeeper only comes once a week, and since I am an antisocial asshole I rarely have visitors.

Every guy knows the pain of taking a thump to his nuts, but this pain was all through my body. I was in agony after only an hour, when the jug weighed only a few pounds. I tried to lift myself up to ease the relentless strain, but it only caused more pain when I finally was forced to sink back down. I passed out for hours at a time, only to be reawakened by my torture. I couldn't feel my nuts after a few hours; everything was just a blinding curtain of pain. I came to once and realized that I was nearly inverted, and even though my balls were stretched almost to my knes the jug was stiil two feet from the floor and I would soon have to bear the weight of the chair as well.

I don't know when my castration actually occured, but I woke up slumped down in my chair with my lap a bloody mess. My balls, the cause of all of this trouble, were on the floor covered with buzzing flies.

Ironically, my life was saved by a paperboy who saw bloddy water seeping out from under the garage door and flagged down a cop. The doctors said that I was close to death from blood loss.

I never saw Tom Green, the old paperboy, again, but like he said, we'll meet again in Hell