CHAPTER NINE: THE NAUGHTY ONE EYED TEDDY BEAR

The following days become a drag for Peter. Alex teases him about bike riding so much that he more or less learns how to ride. After the first time he makes it around the block without stopping or falling off he retires from that dangerous and unnecessary activity, unhurt except for his first fall. Busses and walking seem perfectly adequate for Peter’s purposes. On a bike you might end up in the country or a strange part of town.

But aside from that victory life is pretty dull. Peter can’t get back into his old fantasies and somehow the operations of the BASH Team are not as satisfying as good old fashioned zapping. And the chess revival fizzles out for the lack of anyone to play with. He does some reading and for a while tries following Mom’s soaps on TV, but he thinks they’re all pretty stupid. When he has money he plays video games at the 7-Eleven. Peter’s not stealing from Mom anymore, but it’s not much fun watching when you’re broke. And when Tom raises the ante to fifteen dollars Peter says “No.” he knows it’s not right and decides it’s probably immoral as well.

One day Peter finds a dozen empty beer bottles by Tom’s workshop and he grabs them before Alex does, and he finds another five in the lane right away, and by weaving his way through the lanes up to the liquor store he arrives with exactly enough for a three dollar refund. After a wino cashes them in for him he has two dollars left. Feeling proud of his efforts he beads for the 7-Eleven. He knows that spending money is good because it creates jobs. Like the TV said that there’s fewer jobs because people are buying less and one of the guys they talked to said we should consume more. And Ms. Candice talked about unemployment in class a couple of times and she thinks teachers should go on strike. I asked her why the government didn’t just give people money to buy things, like welfare only more. She said they couldn’t do that, her reasons made sense at the time, because of inflation. But you still got to buy things… I wonder if stealing counts? Would that create jobs as good as buying? Like all the stuff Mom has stolen, would that have created more jobs if they’d sold it instead? But they still got to make it.

Like maybe if you had robots do the consuming you wouldn’t have to give people money. No inflation! And we could teach, program them to do all sorts of things like how to tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi, and all the different brands of beer. I guess we’d have to program them to watch the commercials too so they’d know. And just think of the wines, but there are so many different kinds. At Christmas I went with Mom to the liquor store and helped her get a lot of stuff, and there are so many kinds of wine it would be a full time job for a robot just tasting them… Hey, there’s alcohol in wine and we could have wine powered robots, it would sure save on batteries. We could make all robots drink a gallon a day, that would be consumption. I hope all the robots would be B.C. Boosters and drink Okanagan wine. And I guess we could have them smoke cigarettes too, I hear the government likes the taxes, and I don’t think robots would get cancer either. And that other stuff some kids smoke, marijuana, it shouldn’t have any effect on robots. I saw on TV where they burn, just burn tons of it. Think how much better it’d be if it could be ’consumed’ instead of wasted like that. I bet robots could do it. Like robots could probably consume all sorts of things like surplus wheat, but maybe we should make it into Shreddies first because that would create more jobs. And they could turn the wheat into something useful like fertilizer.

More and more Peter can’t stand hanging around the house and with the end of the school term Alex will be home a lot more. Peter doesn’t have any friends to visit and he doesn’t like the games boys play. He misses Eddie and longs to have a friend, a real friend, and he feels sorry for himself because Eddie died.

On good days Peter can scrounge a dollar or two which is enough for a Slurpee and a few games at the 7-Eleven which he makes last as long as he can. But some boys always seem to have money which he feels is unfair. Some of them he knows steal or do B & E’s, and a few older ones have jobs. Others like that skinny kid Ronnie always seem to get quarters laid on them by men who watch him play. Once he saw Ronnie get over three dollars and he doesn’t play all that well.

One Wednesday afternoon a few days later he sees the heavy set bearded man he’s met before in the 7-Eleven at the magazine stand. He buys a copy of Penthouse and comes over to Peter and says, “Hi! How are you?” and puts a quarter in the Super Pac-Man machine. Peter watches him play and admires the thick hair on his chest where his collar is open, and his arms which are almost black with hair. Again the man offers Peter a quarter so he can play. He tries his best to get a good score and the man gives him another quarter and buys a couple of Cokes for them to share. After the fourth game the man asks him if he would like a Big Mac. Peter isn’t sure, McDonald’s is almost a mile down the highway. The man indicates a silver and gray Trans Am parked just outside the window. Peter seldom gets a chance to ride in a car, mostly Aunt Agnes’s old Chev, and he’s never even sat in a fancy car like a Trans Am. Still Peter hesitates, but then he’s only been to McDonald’s a few times and the man smiles nicely at him and says, “It’s up to you.”

The Trans Am has all the options, power windows, air conditioning and big stereo speakers. The man puts on a mellow soft rock tape and then fastens Peter’s safety belt and reclines his seat. Peter indulges in the luxury, plays with the window switches and stares at all the tiny red lights on the dash. He feels like a pilot… or an astronaut ready to blast off!

Instead of both going inside as he thought, the man gives him ten dollars and tells him to get two Big Macs, some fries or onion rings, and a tart if he wants one and something to drink, he’ll have a Coke. They can listen to the car stereo while they eat and he does have a pile of good cassettes - heavy metal and punk. When Peter returns the man says he can keep the change if he needs it, and asks Peter what he is interested in. Peter rambles on about rockets, space travel and his antimetal matter beam. The man listens and asks intelligent questions which Peter is pleased to answer. Peter’s really starting to like the man and it doesn’t seem strange when the man puts his hand on his shoulder and tells him how he used to be a racing car driver until he got injured while testing an experimental turbo powered car.

Peter listens as the man tells him he’s executive for an insurance company and has a house in Ocean Park subdivision. “My name’s William by the way, but you can just call me Bill.” Peter introduces himself. Bill says he has a pool table, an indoor Jacuzzi and both VHS and Betamax players. Peter pretends he already knows that Betamax has better quality. And he has a large selection of videotapes, some of which he is sure Peter will like. Peter doesn’t think he should go to Bill’s house and besides he might miss Nova at five o’clock. But by then they are stopped at the bottom of a steep driveway and Bill is pointing up to his house, a multi level cedar and glass structure perched on a rock outcrop and half hidden by tall firs and arbutus. “I’ll just show you the place, you don’t need to stay.” And the Trans Am seems to accelerate all the way to the top.

The house blows Peter’s mind with it’s thick carpets, its big windows looking over the strait to the mountains of the mainland and huge sofas you just seem to float on, and he does have a Jacuzzi and a pool table. “Would you like a Coke or a Sprite? I’ve even got some ginger ale or orange juice? I’m having a scotch and soda myself but you might not like the taste.” Peter looks around while Bill’s in the kitchen. There are books like you only see in stores, big soapstone carvings and Eskimo prints. And then he notices an Apple II home computer. Bill comes back with the drinks, there’s ice and a slice of lime with the Sprite. Peter asks if he has any video games for the computer. “Just a few, check in the left hand side of the cabinet below.” There are just a few and none of the new games that Peter wants to play. “I plan to get some more soon,” Bill says sensing his disappointment, “maybe you could give me some ideas. Perhaps you would Like to watch some tapes?” He takes a box out of the cabinet and hands it to Peter. There’s Deep Throat, he’s heard about that one, Co-ed Capers, Disciplining Dorothy, that sounds interesting, Animal World, California Boys and a whole bunch of others. Peter finally selects Co-ed Capers, he doesn’t want Bill to think he’s interested in discipline. There’s this classroom and all these adults dressed like high school kids and then this big fat lady teacher has to leave for some emergency and tells this intellectual looking chic with big glasses and small boobs, Cynthia I think, to watch the class and keep the children out of trouble while she’s gone. Then this big boobed blond chic, starts to do a ’show and tell’ trip about her appendix operation only she can’t find the scar and the boys try to help her look and pretty soon it’s almost all sex with close ups and cum shots. Peter likes it, he’s never seen hard core porn movies before, just pictures in a magazine. Bill says he’s seen it a few times and he leaves Peter alone. And it’s not just fucking, they do that sixty nine thing, I don’t think I’d do it but I might let girls do it to me. And then the big fat teacher, you should see her boobs, comes back and catches them, and spanks all the ’naughty children’ on the bare ass. That’s funny, I really like that part. Peter is engrossed. Bill comes back and sits beside him. “I see you’re enjoying the movie.” and he lightly pats Peter’s obvious hardon leaving his hand on his thigh.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Peter rather nervously replies. Bill feigns great interest in the closing scenes as his hand methodically rubs it’s way up the inside of Peter’s thigh. Peter knows what is happening, he’s heard about things like this. The guy’s a Queer, but then Peter doesn’t want to offend his new and generous friend. Peter shifts back in the sofa and leans forward to make himself less accessible. Actually Peter doesn’t seem to mind all that much and Bill persists, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand while the first gently massages the tip of his knob. Peter is of two minds, he likes being held and petted by a man like that, and he even likes Bill’s smell despite the scotch, but he’s also scared and he knows it’s wrong because they call them queers. He’s getting extremely horny from the combination of the movie and Bill’s attention. Then Coed Capers ends with the boys gangbanging the teacher while the girls cheer. Bill eases Peter down on the sofa while he kneels beside it and starts undoing Peter’s belt and fly. Maybe he just wants to fool around? He’s prepared to go along with that, in fact he’s curious to see what Bill’s cock looks like, but the pressure in his bladder has become too much. “Where’s the john?” he asks urgently, sitting up.

“The door next to the kitchen, and feel free to have a shower, there’s lots of clean towels.” It’s such a nice bathroom with gleaming mirrors and big plants that Peter is tempted to have a shower, they don’t have one at home. Then he notices a big jar of Vaseline in the medicine cabinet. He thinks of Tom and quickly jacks off, pees and washes his hands.

“Well… uh,” Peter is trying to sound blasé, “I got to get going, thanks a lot… I really had a good time.”

“Oh you don’t have to leave, I was planning to drive you home later. Perhaps you’d like another Sprite? and I was just thinking of whipping up some quiche for the two of us.”

“Well I don’t like foreign food anyway and I really should be going.”

“I was so hoping you would stay for a while. It isn’t often I meet such a handsome and interesting young man and,” he puts his hand around Peter’s hips, “I thought we were getting along so well. We could play some eight ball, watch another movie? and there’s always the Jacuzzi. Bill’s hand is probing Peter’s crotch again. “I get lonely out here sometimes and I do enjoy your company. Now if you were to stay for just a little while I’ll give you twenty… thirty dollars.” He continues to fondle Peter who remains expressionless. “And besides, it’s raining hard outside and I wouldn’t want you to get wet on the way home.” Peter can see through the window that it is and there’s a strong wind too. “I’ll make it forty.”

“Well OK,” Peter demurs, “but don’t try any queer stuff.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

Peter follows Bill downstairs to his bedroom and is struck by the different feeling. Except for the king size waterbed it’s like a child’s room with a beat up old chest of drawers, kids drawings and trophies on the walls, toys scattered about including a big scruffy teddy bear which is much patched and lacks one eye.

“Bit of a change, isn’t it.” Bill comments. “Some of these things I’ve had since childhood.” Peter doesn’t doubt it. “If you’re wondering about the picture there, that was me when I was seven, and this,” he takes a photo from the headboard, “is me when I was fifteen, just about your age.” A skinny, open mouthed kid in a prep school blazer stares back at Peter. “And this is Roddy, my teddy bear.” He hands it to Peter who notices the nose has a much chewed look. “He was a naughty teddy bear.” Peter doesn’t understand and doesn’t ask, he lays the teddy bear on the bed. “And over here, Bill opens a double sliding door with a flourish, “is the ensuite bathroom.” Mirrors and marble tiles line the walls and floor of the deep recessed room which ends in a semicircle where two shower heads and a Water Pic are poised. Track lights spot the activity areas and the tropical bushes growing by the only window. Bill closes, the doors and manipulates the light switches. The track lights go on and a warm, indirect yellow light gradually floods the room, and then they fade as the heat lamps come on casting their red glow over everything. Peter is even more impressed when a classical symphony pours forth from hidden speakers. “The whole thing including the imported Italian marble cost me an extra eight thousand. You like it?” Peter nods. “Would you like to try it?” Bill asks as they re-enter the bedroom. The idea excites him in more than one way. Peter smiles when Bill starts to unbutton his shirt and he cooperates as he is undressed, his only embarrassment being his stinking runners and socks. “There!” Bill proclaims and then lightly touching Peter’s proud prick, “What a fine instrument you have!” Soon the showers are on and Bill stands naked in front of him, rod a bobbing, and his wet hairy body glistening under the track light. Peter cannot recall being washed so thoroughly before as Bill caresses every square inch of his body with soap and hands. But it becomes too much for Peter and Bill’s disappointed when Peter’s instrument softens under his cleansing ministrations. Afterwards Bill dries him off with the same attention to detail and wraps a giant white towel toga style around him. Taking a royal blue one for himself Bill disappears upstairs promising to return in a minute.

Peter sits on the waterbed looking around. A large ceiling mounted TV stares down at the bed, the control panel for it and a stereo are built into the headboard. The whole house amazes Peter who has never before tasted, or even seen such luxury. He sprawls out on the bed enjoying the rocking motions that follow his wiggles. He wishes he were an executive and had a place like this. What a great place to bring chics, I bet it would be real neat doing it on a waterbed. And then he remembers Bill and finds himself a little bit scared. Just jacking off would be OK. He’s excited by the idea of being fondled by those hairy hands and the thought of handling his enormous cock fascinates him. But it would be nice without sex, and Bill would take me to expensive restaurants, and I could ride in his car and play with his computer, and he gave me money. Bill is taking on fatherly dimensions in Peter’s mind.

Bill arrives back with a Sprite, ice but no lime this time, and another scotch and soda for himself. “Make yourself comfortable.” he indicates the large cushions at the side of the bed. Peter leans back across the foot of the bed and Bill sprawls himself sideways facing him. “You’re a good looking young man.” he runs his fingers through Peter’s still damp hair. Peter answers with a quick one second smile. Bill takes a sip of his drink and then his hand begins circling lower and lower down Peter’s front. Peter’s impatient and is glad when Bill’s fingers finally start in on his cock. He hopes he can get it up and over with quickly.

Peter’s just getting into it, he’s savouring the sensations, when the headboard phone rings, a melodic chime, and Bill answers it.

“Hello… James?… Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I should have phoned you to let you know I couldn’t make it… I know, I know, I know… But something came up at work - a big claim from that sawmill fire and I told the boss I’d try to whittle it down. I know, I know, I know, but… And tell Roberto I’ll see him soon… “ And it goes on and on. Peter’s getting impatient, he thinks of being held in those hairy arms, just sort of held and he was there in them. It’s only a momentary idea he doesn’t think he should dwell on. He sees a Heavy Metal magazine on the headboard but just as he reaches for it he has a better idea. He pulls back his towel exposing himself on the foot of the bed out of Bill’s reach, and very casually begins fondling himself. He enjoys the situation, it’s like teasing Mr. Hicks, and he’s hard in no time. “Look I’m very busy.” Bill loudly emphasizes to the caller. “I’ve some very important work to do. It can’t wait… Sorry, I really am… I’ll phone you tomorrow… Bye” And he hangs up.

“I apologize for the interruption Peter. I’ll leave it off the hook.” Bill moves over and pulls the willing Peter towards him. The big hairy man cradles the skinny hairless boy in his arms. Peter snuggles down experimentally closing his eyes while Bill caresses him. “What have we got here?” He lightly ruffles the boy’s genitals, and as the penis stiffens, “A fine instrument indeed,” As the stimulation intensifies Peter lies back, eyes closed, concentrating on the sensations. Images float through his mind, My harem would take turns doing this while I sat on my throne. And he sees this girl at school naked, and Eddie, and the tied up dark chic. The tension starts to build up, he hopes he can come fairly soon and wishes he hadn’t jacked off earlier. And then just as he is almost there the stimulation changes abruptly. Peter opens his eyes, and there, staring at him is the remaining eye of the teddy bear, which Bill is vigorously rubbing him with. “Roddy’s a very bad teddy bear.” Bill says confidentially by way of explanation. The situation for Peter is so funny, so ludicrous that he wonders if he can keep it hard. “You don’t mind do you?”

“It feels sort of funny.”

“I had new fur sewn on the belly last year, maybe it’s too tickly. I could rub softer or harder.”

“It’s OK the way you’re doing it.” But then it becomes tickly and Peter giggles, “Stop!”

“All right, tell me if there’s anything you like. How about this.” He starts massaging Peter’s balls.

“No, that’s OK. Just stick to your teddy bear.” Bill resumes.

“Or this?” Bill runs the fingertips of his other hand lightly over Peter’s stomach and thighs.

“No, just play with my cock.” Peter’s getting distracted.

“You’re Sure? I’m just trying to make you happy… Whatever you like.” His other hand settles on Peter’s neck and begins a slow rhythmic massage. Peter decides to leave it there and keep it out of trouble but then…

“Stop.” Bill stops. “It’s too ticklish.” Peter complains.

“Would you like me to blow you for a while instead?”

“No, that’s OK, I’m fine.” The idea of having his cock inside that beard is too audacious to contemplate.

“You haven’t cum? Roddy always likes boys to cum… Or did you? It’s hard for someone else to tell when you’re so young, you know?”

“I came a couple of times.” Peter lies.

“That’s good. I just couldn’t tell.” Bill nervously replies. “And now, Roddy has to be punished, he’s been a very bad boy.”

“Huh?” Peter’s apprehensive, “What do you mean?”

“Well you see,” Bill whispers as if it’s a secret, “Roddy used to masturbate me when I was about your age. Roddy’s always been a bad teddy bear. And now we have to be punished like I was. It’s like a game and I need your help.”

Peter figures it’s time to leave and he looks around for his clothes. “Where are my clothes?” He demands, “I want them now, right now.”

“Well, I put them in the automatic. I thought you’d like them to be washed, they’ll be dry soon… I’ll even show you.” Peter feels trapped and decides to play it out. “But we have to punish Roddy.” Bill goes on as he pulls out a heavy rubberized canvas strap which Peter guesses had been a school strap in the old days. “And your job is to spank.” He hands the strap to Peter.

“I don’t know about that.” Peter’s uncertain.

“I’ll give you an extra ten dollars.”

“To spank a teddy bear?”

“No, no, you’d hurt Roddy. You’d knock the stuffing out of him - ME.”

Peter understands, he remembers the pictures he’d found in Tom’s room months ago. The idea of him beating a big hairy man is at least confusing but belting Bill’s hairy ass has a certain appeal. He has become rapidly disillusioned and disappointed with Bill. He flexes the strap playfully.

“I’ll make it twenty extra.” Bill pleads.

“Do you want to be tied up first?” Peter is trying to be helpful and show off his knowledge of such things.

“Uh… No, uh… That won’t be necessary… Not this time.”

But then, perhaps Bill in his own mind is encountering a practical opportunity to live out something rivaling his wildest fantasies. “I’ve never had a boy tie me up before, you know what I mean?”

“I just thought you were supposed to be, like in those magazines.”

“Oh really!” Bill just happens to have sufficient, never used bondage paraphernalia and enough expertise in giving instructions to end up tied face down on his dining room table with one hand free and the centre leaf missing, and with Roddy snuggled in between his chin and his shoulder. “Would you shove Roddy down a bit more… Please Peter?” Peter complies and Bill takes Roddy’s nose in his mouth.

“What are you doing to the teddy bear?” Peter is legitimately curious.

Bill is obviously embarrassed. “I don’t want him to slip loose and Roddy and I hug and kiss when we’re punished. It’s our way of sharing… and it helps me to cum.”

“Do you bite his nose?”

“No no… Well sometimes I can’t help it.”

Bill repeats his instructions, perhaps more nervously now on the brink of his flirtation with fantasy fulfillment and encourages Peter to take a trial smack. “No, harder than that.” Peter tries again. “That’s better, and I want you to call me ’Willy’, my father always did especially when he was angry. Bill is starting to shiver with excitement. “And if you can, I want you to say, ’Willy, I’m only doing this because I love you.’ Now I want you to start slowly, about ten seconds apart, and then when you see me get going, speed it up a little, and then when I say ’Stop’, you STOP… Just wait til I tell you I’m ready.” Bill begins his preliminary self manipulations and snuggles against Roddy. “OK, Ready.”

Peter stands, strap in hand, ready to deliver the first blow. Then he notices himself in one of the big mirrors and stops to admire himself briefly. He thinks he looks a bit silly. But Bill’s bare and bulging hairy buttocks await his ministrations. He has started to masturbate vigorously. Peter gives him a good smack. “Hahaarder, hahaarder.” Bill moans. Peter starts laying the blows on hard and regular. Bill works away furiously. As he, watches Bill’s ass turn pink and then red Peter imagines that he is one of his slaves he’s beating and it becomes more fun. He even remembers to call out, “BAD BOY WILLY.” It would be more fun to beat a chic slave… or maybe a boy. He remembers the two boy pictures Bill had shown him. He tries to increase his efforts but his arm is getting tired. But then he remembers his ’hit list’, he starts on the meanest of the Schoolside Store boys and just as new joy and energy are flowing into his labours Bill gasps, “STOP, enough, stop.” But Peter is inspired and gets in four more good ones before he ceases. “Why didn’t you stop right away when I said so?”

“Sorry.” Peter apologizes.

“You go on like that and you SPOIL IT.”

“I thought you might like it,” Peter improvises, “You know passing over the threshold of ecstasy to where every blow is pure pleasure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I read it in a magazine.”’

“Oh, well now undo me… Please Peter?”

“Not until I get my clothes on.”

Peter was going to have Bill drop him off at the Highway 7-Eleven but it had stopped raining so he got out early at Mr. Mikes. The sixty dollars in his pocket is by far the most money he’s ever had, and he wants to enjoy it. He takes a window table and sits back practicing sophisticated expressions, waiting for the waiter to arrive. A bus boy informs him he has to place his order at the counter. Peter decides he’s going to have a steak. Not counting the things that Mom has served up from time to time, often prime New York or T bone cuts to begin with, Peter has only eaten steak maybe twice. He astutely settles on their four ninety nine special, but with a, Coke, coffee and strawberry cheesecake it adds up.

Peter wishes he could order a drink, he has studied the wine list and the St. Michelle sparkling burgundy looks interesting, but you have to be nineteen. It’s a domestic wine and Peter believes in buying local products, except when Japanese are better and cheaper, because he’s heard it creates jobs. The more you spend, the more jobs you create. Peter decides to tip, making it ten dollars total, and he feels noble and altruistic as he hands the money to the cashier. He wonders how many jobs he’s creating, he’s not sure if the tip counts, maybe it’s better for the economy if you don’t.

It’s raining again but Peter simply hails a taxi, and gives the driver five dollars for the five blocks down to the 7-Eleven. He is enjoying the power of money. He decides to look around the shopping centre first, and perhaps do some shopping. The credit jewelers is having a sale, he goes in and after careful consideration selects a ring with genuine zircons, the top of it’s line at sixteen ninety nine, and has the saleslady slip it on his finger.

At the 7-Eleven he changes a ten dollar bill into quarters and proceeds to where the video games are. Ronnie who he’s talked to a few times, is hanging around and they exchange greetings. After Peter gets a respectable score at Super Pac-Man on his first game he asks Ronnie who’s been watching if he wants to play. Ronnie’s broke but that’s OK, Peter enjoys being generous, A dozen games and two Slurpees later Ronnie asks, “Where did you get all the money?”

“My grandmother died.”

“Oh, well you got to be careful about some of the guys who give you money and take you for rides.” Ronnie knowingly advises.

“You mean like that old fat slob with the beard?”

“Willy… Bill? He’s OK, but some of them are REAL QUEERS.”

When Peter leaves a while later he notices it is seven thirty and remembers that he’d promised to go to the Young Peoples’ Bible Study group this evening.

Later that night Peter, Mom and Alex watch TV. Peter is fascinated by a sultry Black singer in a low cut evening dress, with things that glitter like diamonds all over it. And although she’s holding it the wrong way Peter thinks the microphone and cord look like a whip. Before he gets into bed he pulls out his pictures of the tied up dark chic, the ones he’d got Tom to give him. He studies them, turning some sideways or up upside-down, and despite his already sexually busy day he jacks off again. He doesn’t really fantasize whipping the tied up dark chic, the mere possibility is enough.