“But Mr. Brockman,” pleaded the little boy’s mother, “wouldn’t it be all right if I just sat in the room while you talk to him? Parker’s always been a shy child. If he has to talk about the ugly things his dad did without me even being in sight—”
The burly, dark-haired man behind the desk interrupted Mrs. Livingston rather abruptly. “Sorry, lady,” he said coldly, “but this office makes no exceptions. You think this is the first time the welfare department has had a case like this? We’re plenty experienced with guys getting fresh with their kids. Happens more than you think. And we interview every kid the same way. We know what we’re doing. Having relatives present is no good. Keeps the kid from opening up and giving us the full story. Now please go bring him in here so we can get on with this.”
Mrs. Livingston reluctantly got up and started for the lobby. She wasn’t about to give him any back talk. He might do something to keep her from getting her monthly check.
Herman Brockman stopped her at the door with a few words of warning. “You wait out in the lobby, or go out for a cup of coffee if you get restless. It may take me quite a while to ask him everything I need to. But don’t come back into this office until my secretary tells you.”
The child was ushered in and his mother hastily departed.
The man regarded him from under shaggy black eyebrows and took a pencil in hand.
“So you’re little Mister Livingston, huh? You know what we’re going to talk about, don’t you? We have to know exactly what your dad did to you, so the police will have the information when they catch him. You know what he did was bad, and that if they can locate him they’ll put him in jail so he can’t do it ever again, don’t you?”
He nodded his head slowly without opening his mouth. His big black eyes were wide with fright.
“Let’s see,” the man mused, glancing over a form on his desk, “you’re just ten years old, aren’t you? Wonder what made your dad want to fool around with a little boy as young as you? Usually the kids are old enough to have a little something in their pants before their dads try anything funny.”
Just being in the office was very disquieting to the youngster. The unexpected boldness of the man’s speech made it even worse.
“Okay, Parker,” he said, “let’s get the facts, now. He did things to you that were nasty. How long ago did this start? You told your mom it wasn’t the first time.”
He spoke very softly. “Last week when Mom was at work. He… he’d been looking at me kind of… you know, kind of funny, for a long time. Ever since he got laid off his job and was home all day. That was almost a month ago. But he didn’t do anything ’til just last week, when school let out early for a teacher’s meeting.”
Herman jotted notes as the boy spoke, but he could hardly keep his mind on what he was doing. It so happened that the man harbored a secret desire for young boys himself and used his position to cater to the craving he felt. He was very careful to hide it from his superiors, but he loved interviewing incest victims and got a big thrill from forcing the details from the kids.
“What do you mean he looked at you ‘kind of funny’?” he pressed, his face stern.
Parker fidgeted in his seat. He licked his lips nervously and his face began to redden.
“Well,” he finally said, “he’d get a dirty look in his eyes when I went up and down the stairs, for one thing. He kept looking at my butt… it seemed like he wanted to see more. You know… He didn’t think I noticed him doing it but I did. Pretty soon he started doing it without even trying to keep me from seeing.”
Herman thought of the dad’s sick act, of how he must’ve loved watching the boy’s narrow ass—to him it wasn’t sick at all. It was perfectly understandable. His face remained impassive, but he was becoming so aroused by the child’s attractive features it was difficult to keep from letting his feelings show.
What a sweet little number, he thought to himself. Look at those tanned legs sticking out of those shorts!
He pretended to be jotting down more notes before asking more questions, but actually his brain was concerned strictly with thinking about how cute the boy was. Parker was a slim child with coal-black hair and pale skin that made him look like a doll. His legs were long and slender—he was going to be pretty tall. Because his family was poor, he was dressed rather shabbily. He wore old, too-big shorts and a plain white t-shirt—obviously hand-me-down stuff. And his sneakers were dirty and worn.
Herman liked them a little older, but he was quite happy to feast his eyes on even a boy as young as Parker. He also had a sadistic streak in him that made him enjoy embarrassing the boys he interviewed. It was more than just teasing. He liked to make them really squirm, and as his interviews progressed he became downright humiliating.
He leaned forward and got an accusing look on his face.
“Okay, now,” he said to the little boy, “I’m going to ask you some things that are very personal. But don’t try to play dumb with me or act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You may be only ten years old, but I happen to know that a boy your age knows a lot more about things than he ever tells his mother.”
Parker’s face became redder than ever.
“You said your dad liked to look at your body,” he went on. “Didn’t you make it awfully easy for him sometimes?”
“Oh, no,” he said, shocked, “I never did anything like that. That… that would be naughty.”
“How about the rest, then,” he continued, his face registering clearly that he didn’t believe the boy. “When’s the first time he touched you?”
“One afternoon he told me he could see my balls. My shorts didn’t fit good,” he hesitantly responded, “and said he bet I showed them to everybody at school too. He made me come to where he was sitting and had me stand still while he adjusted the back of my shorts. He did more than just touch my shorts. He rubbed my butt.”
“Sure you didn’t move against him yourself?” said Herman. “Sure you didn’t sway a little so you could see what it feels like to have a man’s hands on your behind?”
The boy turned white. “Why… why no,” he protested. “No sir, I… I’d never do anything like that.”
He told him the next time his dad had touched him was when he was taking a nap. He woke up to find him running his hands along his legs.
When he sat up in bed suddenly, the dad claimed he had been putting covers over him. But it hadn’t been cold in the room at all, he added.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “How about the time he got you down in bed and put his finger in you. Let’s get to the main thing. I don’t have much time, you know, there’s another boy due in here pretty soon with the same problem you’ve got.”
The youngster moved restlessly in the chair and it was clear he didn’t want to speak. But he knew he had to.
“Daddy just grabbed me all of a sudden,” he said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “He said he’d been wanting to… to do things to me for a long time and wasn’t going to wait another day…”
“Come on, kid,” Herman broke in. “Your dad didn’t just say he wanted to ‘do things’ to you, now did he? He didn’t use words like that. What did he say, his exact words?”
“He… he said he wanted see my—my—” he began.
“Yes?” pressed Herman. He sat forward in his seat and his face was flushed.“Yes? Your what, goddamn it?”
“My… my butthole,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “He said he wanted to see my butthole and play with it.”
Herman’s cock rise even more in his pants.
“Go ahead, what then?” he insisted. “Did you drop your shorts and show it off to him?”
“No… oh, no,” he said, almost in tears now, “He made me do it. He picked me up in his arms and held me off the floor. And… and while he was hugging me against him, he ran one hand down the back of my shorts and put his hand right between my butt cheeks. He… rubbed his finger right on my… my butthole.”
“How’d you like it?” the man asked. “Felt a little bit good, didn’t it? Don’t lie to me!”
The boy hung his head. “I… I didn’t like it at first,” he said, “but after he moved his finger around a little, I… I guess I did like it a little then.”
“I thought so!” exclaimed the man, his eyes bright. “And you wanted more of it, didn’t you? Did your penis get bigger?”
“A little…”
“What’d he do then?”
“He laid me face-down on the bed and pulled off my shorts and yelled at me to hold still. I was trying to get up but he was too strong. I felt terrible. I knew he was looking right at my butthole. He got his fingers wet… and put one in me. Then he hollered for me to spread my legs.”
“You did it, too, didn’t you?” Herman cried. He was managing to keep the volume of his voice down, but the intensity of his feelings was very apparent.
“I had to,” the boy wailed, tears coming to his eyes. “I had to open up like he said. He… he would have hurt me if I didn’t do what he said.”
He was so overwrought he was desperate to get the interview over with as soon as possible so he rushed on with the worst part as fast as he could talk.
“Then he got his thing out… it was all big and hard… and he jammed it between my butt-cheeks and pushed it into me—it hurt real bad—and he fell on top of me and jabbed me with it till I felt a big wet bunch of gook on my back. He was doing it so fast and hard that his… his thing slipped out at the end. He grunted and rolled off, then ran into his bedroom. I pulled my shorts on just in time to see him running out the door.”
Herman said, “I know the rest. He took the car and you or your mother haven’t seen him since.”
He sent the boy out, waiting only long enough to let the boy compose himself, then let his mother take him home. His impersonal routine was to call the parent later at home and tell what the disposition of the case would be—whether more money would be allowed in this event a spouse had fled the scene and was permanently missing, and what was to happen if he returned.
* * *
The next case was a slightly older boy, a beautiful child of twelve. He got rid of the mother fast and got right to the issue. His previous session with the young Livingston boy had made him very horny and he lost no time discussing trivia with the little angel.
“Your uncle slipped in bed with you and sank it in, didn’t he?” he began at once. “I know that much. But there’s things I need to know about what happened before that… about what kind of boy you are, and how much you know.”
The young adolescent was shocked at his sudden familiarity. But his mother had told his to cooperate by answering any question posed to his.
His name was Steven and he was a thin little blond.
Herman began firing questions at him rapid-fire, his cock pulsing against his pants hard and hot. “You’re twelve. You started beating off yet?” he brusquely demanded.
“For almost a year,” the boy retorted, “If it’s any of your business, sir.”
Here was something new—a kid with spirit, one who thought he could get sassy. He’d fix his little ass good. He’d forget about his usual method, which was rude enough, and simply humiliate the piss out of the little fucker.
“You know damned good and well it’s my business, you little bastard,” he growled. “Unless you and your mom want to starve to death when your welfare checks stop.” He knew the boy had no father.
The kid was shocked out of his senses, but he was also moved to go along with the perverse inquisition. He knew he couldn’t clam up no matter how foul-mouthed he was.
“How come you’re not wearin’ underwear under those shorts? Your prick’s just floppin’ around down there,” he said accusingly.
“Mom says I don’t have to,” he replied, “says they’re a waste of money.”
“How about your nuts? Hairs on ‘em yet?”
“Enough,” he answered.
“When’d you get them?”
“I don’t know. About the same time I started beatin’ it, I guess,” he said.
The boy’s easy use of the words aroused the man’s lust to a higher pitch. “What color? Same as your hair?”
“Yeah, blond just like the hair on my head.”
The little bastard had a grin on his face. He thought he could stay cool under the probing questions, huh? He’d show the boy a thing or two yet.
“Were you a virgin before your uncle popped you? Or had you already let some other boy up your butt?“
“I never did that!” the kid declared.
“Bet you’d at least thought about playing with your butt before though, hadn’t you? You knew probably knew what it was like to have something in that butt of yours a long time before your uncle ever stuck his cock there. Now didn’t you—didn’t you?”
That had its desired effect. The boy’s confidence faltered when he broached a subject that nasty.
“I… I’ve fooled with myself a little, yes… but listen, I’ve seen in videos where it says nothing will happen to you for it,” he answered with red-faced defensiveness. “Heck, I’m not the only boy that does it.”
He’d been coming on so confident and cool that Herman relished seeing him squirm a little. A real little spitfire, for his age. And apparently pretty sophisticated, too. Most kids his age were shocked into embarrassed silence the minute he mentioned the subject of masturbation, much less butt stuff.
“Oh, you’ve seen videos on it, huh?” said Herman. “You must have been awfully interested in fingering yourself if you even looked up videos of it. Don’t try to tell me you just ran across it on Youtube! Where’d you find a video like that, anyway, huh?”
He shifted uneasily, knowing he was caught. He hated the man, but there was nothing he could do. His mother had told him how important it was to answer his questions and be as nice and cooperative as possible. The welfare money they received was nearly all they had to live on and they couldn’t take a chance on getting it cut off.
He admitted he’d been able to look them up on a neighbor’s computer when the guy was at work. The man had asked him to walk his dog.
“I didn’t do anything bad,” he maintained. “The computer was on, and he’d already been lookin’ stuff like that up anyway.”
Herman’s eyes narrowed. “You may not have done any damage,” he said, “but I bet you left things a little wetter, huh?” He laughed scornfully.
The boy really started to hate the man, and he felt drops of water slide from his armpits as the guy stared at him. The nervous sweat flowed down his smooth sides and he was afraid the man might notice he was sweating.
“Wha-what do you mean?” he stumbled, for the first time losing his confidence. He knew good and well what the man meant but he hated to think of it. He realized from the sick glint in the guy’s eyes that he was fantasizing something nasty.
“You know what I mean, boy,” he said softly, his lips curling in an oily grin. “You know just what I mean, now don’t you? I bet those videos made you so hot between the legs you had to beat your prick right then and there, while you were still watching it! Isn’t that right?”
“I… I—” he stuttered, his eyes darting frantically around the room. He wanted to look anywhere but at the man’s steady gaze.
Herman saw at once how right he’d been. “Where were you while you were doing it, huh? In his bedroom? In the man’s bathroom?”
The vision of the kid with his hand wrapped around his little prick—he could picture his fingertips gently massaging the silky, firm skin of his inflamed prick almost melted the man’s brain. His cock was so hard it was throbbing against the oppressive zipper like the beating of a drum.
“The—the bathroom,” the boy mumbled, his spirit now broken. He was now so beleaguered by the man’s probing that he felt constrained to admit everything.
“Uh huh,” he triumphantly declared, “sitting on the john with your shorts down around your ankles, weren’t you? Clicking through videos on his laptop as fast as you could go, watching guys fucking… women? Or was it other guys? Both?”
Now the boy wasn’t up to speaking. He only nodded, keeping his eyes down to avoid his stare. Yes, he indicated, that was right. His cheeks flushed red as beets.
“You didn’t do it just that day, though, did you?” he said. “After you were done with the videos, you worked on yourself plenty of times after, didn’t you?”
“I’d done it before,” he feebly admitted, “…that wasn’t the first time. And after the videos, I guess… I guess I did it… uh… a little more often.”
“Just in the bathroom,” he asked, “or other places too? How about in bed? Ever do it there, when the lights were off and you were by yourself under the covers??”
The kid gulped. “Uh huh … sometimes,” he admitted. “Like, some nights if I couldn’t go to sleep I’d… you know, play with myself for a while. Then I could go to sleep easier. I was… I don’t know… more relaxed or something.”
Herman was anything but relaxed at this point. He shifted in his seat again behind the desk, feeling his rock-hard cock push almost painfully against his pants. He wondered vaguely whether the boy could sense what was happening inside his pants but quickly dismissed it from his mind. After all, he was the one in charge there, right? He was the one asking the questions and the kid was the one answering them—he damned well better go along with Herman, even if he did know how hard his cock was.
“A little more relaxed, huh? I’ll bet you were,” he said accusingly. “It made you feel a hell of a lot more than just ‘relaxed,’ didn’t it? It made you feel all hot and horny and it made you want to do it more and more, didn’t it?”
His head, eyes lowered in shame, turned aside and his lips displayed the beginnings of a faint tremor.
“I…” he began, this time unable even to go farther than a single halting phrase before his voice failed him completely.
Herman leaned farther across the desk, the edge creasing his stomach. Somehow the youngster’s acute embarrassment excited him almost as much as the sight of his fresh little body and the thought of what he’d admitted doing with it alone at night under the sheets.
“Turn around here,” he ordered severely, “turn around here and look at me when I’m talking to you!”
With extreme reluctance the boy slowly faced him, though his eyelids remained lowered and it was obvious he could hardly bear to be confronted by his persecutor.
“I don’t have time to fool around with you,” he said roughly. “Your mother brought you in here because of what happened between you and your uncle, and you’d better quit acting like a sweet, innocent little virgin if you know what’s good for you.”
The kid’s eyelids fluttered and he forced himself to look at the man. His big, soft eyes were pained as he at last returned Herman’s gaze. His earlier confidence and impudence had now altogether vanished. He was on the verge of tears.
“He did stick it in you, didn’t he? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he reminded the boy. “So you sure as hell aren’t a virgin anymore. Don’t try to act like you don’t even know what it feels like to have a man’s prick inside your little ass.”
The sudden reference to his uncle sent a tremor of shame and fear through the young boy’s heart. It had been bad enough to be forced into revealing the secret things he did to his own body—now the terrible subject of what he’d allowed someone else to do to it loomed horribly before him. And that’s how it had been, he’d allowed some of what his uncle had done. Not all, not everything, not the painful part—but much more than he had let on to anyone besides himself. How much would the man try to drag out of him about that, he nervously wondered, his heart pounding beneath his thin chest like a drum.
“He wasn’t any kid either, was he?” Herman remarked, glancing at the report on his desk. He picked up an official-looking paper and shook it toward him. “Hell, the old fucker was a grown man.” He looked at the boy in disgust and added, “Older than me!” He waited for the kid’s reaction.
He mutely acknowledged the truth of Herman’s statement with an almost imperceptible nod.
“Let’s get down to business now, boy. He’s not around anymore, so you’re the only one left to tell the tale. Report here says he flew the coop and headed for the highway the minute your mom came home and found him giving it to you, right? Took off and left you butt-ass naked on the bed before the police could make it to your house.”
Steven nodded.
“Don’t think I’m going to take your word for every little thing just because he isn’t around to speak for himself though,” Herman declared, his mouth sliding into a sly, oily smirk.
Steven’s mouth went dry. The man was pursuing exactly the course the boy’d hoped he wouldn’t.
“Oh, he may have been a dirty old man, all right,” Herman allowed, “he may have loved getting those little shorts of yours down and seeing what you had in there, and getting his hands on that narrow little ass of yours. I’m not denying that. He was probably a perverted old fucker, no doubt about that. But I’m thinking you just may have given him a little cause, huh? I’m thinking you just might have led him on a little bit, know what I mean?” He paused meaningfully.
The boy licked his dry lips nervously and his already red cheeks flamed scarlet. He moved his eyes around the room in a desperate effort to keep from displaying the guilty truth. He shifted cautiously in his chair. If he’d known how intently Herman was watching his crotch, he’d have been even more uncomfortable.
“You know what I mean, don’t you?” he repeated. “You know what I’m talking about now, don’t you? How when a boy wants a man to do certain nasty things to him, he can act a certain way and show off a little, so the man knows the boy’s just as hot to play around as he is?”
The youngster was forced to meet Herman’s eyes again because of the directness of his questions. But he managed, as his only reply, a weak shrug of his shoulders. Sure he knew, of course he knew what the man meant… but he wasn’t about to admit any knowledge of such things. His big eyes regarded Herman beseechingly, proclaiming his ignorance.
“You already admitted that you jerk off and play with your butt,” Herman persisted, loving the way the boy cringed. “You must have wondered what it would feel like to have someone else do it for you. Someone like your uncle, right? A grown-up-someone who would know what to do with that hot little prick and butt of yours once they got their hands on them, right? Isn’t that right?”
The boy hated the way Herman kept saying things he thought no one but himself could possibly know. He would’ve died before admitting how he used to get a charge from the way his uncle would crane his neck every time he went into the boy’s bedroom, trying to get a peek at him in bed. Sometimes in the mornings he even used to try for a peek through the inched-open door as Steven was getting dressed for school. The boy never let on that he knew, but secretly he often thought about what he would do if he ever really got to see his uncle—like maybe what he looked like with nothing on.
He’d lost himself in a daze of shame and bewilderment. Now he jumped to attention.
The man had risen to his feet and was leaning over his desk. It was suddenly apparent that he’d been talking and that he was angry with him for not listening.
“…so you better tell me everything,” he was saying, “everything he did to you that night. And what led up to it, too—I know goddamn well he didn’t just take a notion to jump in bed with you on the spur of the moment!”
The boy was absolutely against the wall and he knew it. He had to answer… no more stalling.
In a weak, hesitant voice, the youngster admitted he’d been masturbating under the covers just before it happened. With his mother gone for the evening, His uncle had an eagle eye cocked on the door of his room. He was so busy playing with his prick that he didn’t notice his uncle sneak into the room. He’d been lying on his left side, his back to the door, and was giving it to himself with his right hand.
His uncle’s voice had startled him and it was too late to deny what he’d been doing. The man had already seen too much. His uncle said he’d tell his mother what he’d caught Steven doing if he didn’t let him in on the action, and when Steven asked what he meant he roughly told the boy to turn on his back and keep his mouth shut.
He told him to just relax, that nothing was going to hurt, and that if he’d simply move his small hand and let him put his big hand between his legs, he’d like what he felt. Steven was scared, but also awfully horny. After all, he’d been diddling himself ever since he’d gotten into bed. He did as his uncle said and felt the man’s weight on the bed beside him. He kept his eyes closed out of embarrassment and shame—the very idea of having his uncle see him so naked!
“He… he rubbed his hands around on just my prick first,” he explained, his voice barely a whisper. “But after he … you know, messed around with my prick… he started talking real funny and making noises in his throat. Then I felt his hand moved down ’til his finger was right on my… on my…”
“On your asshole?” broke in Herman. “That what you mean, kid? How come you’re getting so shy all of a sudden? When you first came in you were talking all about your prick and ass without batting an eye.”
He just nodded, indicating that yes, it had been his asshole he was referring to, then went on with his story.
The man had run the tips of his fingers around the boy’s little pucker, then inserted a probing tip inside. Herman stopped the boy and asked the youngster if he’d liked the feeling and he shamefully admitted that he had. After that, his uncle had flipped the boy over, jammed his pants down to his knees, and plunged his stiff tool into the boy’s virginal asshole. He was too steamed up to bother with how the boy felt. He pushed his prick all the way in and shot his wad in seconds, with Steven twisting and crying under him from the pain.
That’s when they heard his mother’s footsteps on the porch and his uncle jumped up and went for his car. Steven was whimpering in bed when his mother found him, and by the time the police arrived the man was long gone.
The young boy looked up at last, relieved that his tale was over. But he wasn’t relieved for long. Herman was standing to one side of his desk now, and he had his right hand on the obviously protruding crotch of his pants.
“Then if I were to show mine to you,” he suggested, his voice breaking with excitement, “it wouldn’t be the first man’s cock you ever saw, by a long shot, would it?”
