Chapter 1

This is a story of revenge, pure and simple. There are those who will shake their heads in disgust when they read about what I did, but fuck them; they didn't live the life that I did.

It started twenty-seven years ago on the back seat of a Chevy Impala. A man, whose name I never found out, drove his cock deep into Mary Alice Reardon's fifteen year old cunt and the sperm that shot out the head of his dick found the egg that became me.

Mary Alice, being the good Catholic she was, would not even consider an abortion and so she was sent to live with relatives until I was born. One day, shortly after my arrival, I was given up for adoption. The people who adopted me were killed in a car accident (luckily I was at home with the babysitter) and since they had no living relatives I became a ward of the state. I disappeared into the system and for the next seventeen years I was bounced from foster home to foster home with a little time out for a six month stretch in the Juvenile Detention Center. That period was seventeen years of living hell. Granted, I do not have a clear memory of the first five or six years other than I got spanked a lot because I had a bed wetting problem (actually, beaten with a belt is what it was) but I have vivid memories of the last twelve.

My first really clear memory is of the Ferguson's. The family I had been living with before the Ferguson's moved out of the state so Child Protection Services placed me with Sam and Martha Ferguson. The Ferguson's let me know from day one that I should be grateful to them for taking me in.

They had two other children, Tommy who was two years older than me, and Marie who was the same age. I don't know what they were paid to keep me, but other than the food I ate none of it was spent on me. My clothes were always Tommy's hand-me-downs. If Tommy or Marie got sick they were rushed of to the doctor's office, but if I got sick I was given a couple of aspirin and put to bed. Tommy and Marie saw a dentist once a year, but I never saw one. I was given a list of chores and I caught hell if I didn't do them or do them right, but I noticed that Tommy and Marie never did anything but go outside and play.

I was with the Ferguson's for two years when suddenly I was taken away from them. I found out later that they were swingers and had somehow gotten arrested for "lewd and lascivious behavior." It came to the attention of Child Protection Services and I was removed from "an unsuitable environment."

They didn't have a foster home available at the time so I was moved into the County Youth Facility which was a fancy name for an orphanage. In reality it wasn't even an orphanage; what it was was a jail without a fence. It sat on twenty acres that it shared with the County Juvenile Detention Center. The detention center was seven buildings surrounded by a barbed wire fence and just outside the fence were the four buildings of the youth facility. The thing was that the same personnel ran both places and the prison guard mentality of the detention center carried over to the youth facility.

Imagine, if you can, and eight year old sleeping on a bunk in a room with fifteen other boys when the lights come on at 5:30 AM and an adult yells at the top of his lungs:

"Drop your cocks and grab your socks. I want beds made, floor swept and mopped by 0615. Come on, MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!"

As an eight year old I had no idea what drop your cocks and grab your socks meant. One of the older boy groaned, "Shit! I was almost there" but as an eight year old I didn't know what that meant either.

We were marched -- that's right, lined up and marched -- to the dinning room (in later years I would learn to call it the mess hall) for breakfast which was most always oatmeal and toast or chipped beef on toast. Then the school buses would take us to school. In the evenings you had to take your homework from school to the 'attendant' (read 'guard') to have it checked. If it met with his approval you were allowed to go to the recreation room to watch whatever TV shows the 'attendant' picked out or play board games with the other boys (girls were in a different building).

At nine it was "lights out" and around nine-thirty the moans and whimpering started as the older boys moved in on the younger ones. At eight I didn't know what that was either. It never happened to me and I found out later that the older boys had found out that the "new fish" were prone to running to the attendant unless the older boys brought them along slowly and "prepared the new boy for what was to come. Fortunately for me I was only there two months and I was placed in another foster home before the older boys had a chance to get to me.

How the Stottlemeirs became foster parents was beyond me. Vern and Nancy were both abusive drunks and I learned early on to find a place to hide when they started chasing their shots of Seven Crown with bottles of Stroh's beer. Of course it wasn't much better the next morning when they were suffering through their hangovers. But even sober they were abusive. I got beat if they didn't like the way I cleaned my room. I got a taste of the belt if they didn't like the way the dishes looked after I washed them and I got whipped if I _____ (fill in the blank). I was with the Stottlemeirs for two and a half years and then Vern drove his car into a tree at about fifty miles an hour. Nancy never had a sober day after his funeral and it came to the attention of Social Services and I was removed from her house and it was back to the Youth Facility for me.

Nothing had changed in the time I was gone. The moans and whimpering still started about half an hour after lights out, but I was old enough by then to know what was going on. I also knew that it was something I wanted no part of.

One thing you learn as an orphan bouncing from foster home to foster home is that you are on your own. I know now that there were plenty of foster homes was there was love and compassion, but I was never lucky enough to end up in one of them. But at the time - I was eleven then - I knew that I was on my own. Kids at school made fun of me because I was "different" -- I had no real family -- and like all schools there were bullies who preyed on the smaller and younger. I was a frequent target and my life was hell until one day an older kid took me aside and told me that bullies only pick on those who didn't fight back or who were too small to fight back effectively.

"You don't have to fight fair when they are bigger than you. Hit them with a rock; stab at them with a knife or broken bottle, but let them know that if they fuck with you they will get hurt. Do that and they will leave you alone."

I listened to him and the next time one of the bullies picked on me I swung back and hit him in the mouth. It hurt him because my fist was wrapped around a rock that I had taken to carrying in my pants pocket. He stood there stunned and I hit him again and that time he fell to his knees and I smashed him in the head with the rock and I was so mad that I probably would have kept beating on him if I hadn't been pulled away. I wasn't ever bothered again.

Anyway, that was the mentality I had when I went back to the Youth Facility. I'd been back four months when four older boys came to my bunk one night after lights out and one of them said:

"Come on fish, it is time to let you know who runs this place" (fish is what new kids were called and even though I had been there before I was new to them).

One of them pulled my blanket off me and I came off the bunk wildly swinging my right hand which was holding a butter knife I had swiped from the mess hall. I had sharpened it by rubbing the edge on concrete and while it wasn't all that sharp, but it did draw blood from two of the four and all four of them took off and left me alone. The next day one of them, he had a slash mark on his cheek, told me that he would get me for that and I told him that the next time he fucked with me I would kill him. I was at the Youth Facility for another seven months and was never bothered.

I had just turned twelve when I was put in another foster home. Norm and Glenda Miller seemed an alright couple at first and I began to think I had lucked out and in a way I did. Norm was some kind of traveling salesman and Glenda was a stay at home housewife. Norm would be gone two or three weeks at a time and it would just be Glenda and me at home.

One night when Norm was on a business trip Glenda came and got into bed with me. She said she couldn't sleep well when she was alone and if I didn't mind she was going to sleep with me. I didn't care so I scooted over to give her some room and she scooted over to stay next to me. Her hand reached out and took hold of my cock and she whispered:

"Another reason I don't sleep well is that I'm always horny. Would you like to help mommy with her problem?"

I might have been a virgin, but I knew a little about sex and I had been masturbating for almost a year. When my cock grew in her hand she giggled and said: "Yes indeed baby, I think you would like to help mommy out" and she pulled me on top of her and guided my stiff little cock into her. "Just push it in and out baby; that's all you have to do, push it in and out."

I came pretty quick and Glenda said, "Was mommy's little boy a virgin? Oh baby, mommy is going to have so much fun teaching you."

She slid down and took my cock in her mouth and when she had me hard she pulled me on top of her again and off we went. I fucked her four times that night; got two more blow jobs and my first taste of pussy when she taught me how she liked to have her pussy eaten.

Did I like it? Does a duck walk barefoot on the beach? Norm's trips took him away for two or three weeks at a time, but the downside was that when he came home he was home for two or three weeks. So it was two or three weeks of fun and games and two or three weeks of going nuts waiting for him to leave again. This went on for a little over two years and then one day it all went to hell.

Norm had just left on a trip and Glenda asked if I wanted dinner or did I want to go upstairs to her bedroom and play "hide the weenie." I of course opted for my favorite game. She sucked my cock and I licked her pussy and then she said:

"Come on little man, fuck your mommy."

I climbed on and fucked her until I came and she hugged me to her and held me tight. Then I heard, "Now it is my turn" and I looked over my shoulder and saw a naked Norm come out of the closet. He had a tube of KY in his hand and a hard cock pointing toward me as he headed for the bed. Glenda was still hugging me tightly to her and she started crooning into my ear:

"It's all right baby. Mommy's little man will like this. Do this for mommy baby. It will be okay; trust mommy baby, trust mommy."

I struggled to get away, but she held on tight. "Let daddy have his fun baby and he will let you have more fun with mommy."

I loved the hell out of playing with Glenda, but not at the price of taking Norm up my ass. I kept trying to get away and suddenly "mommy" stopped her crooning and said:

"Hold still you little bastard."

I felt the cold KY rubbed against my asshole and one of Norm's fingers pushed its way in. Glenda tightened her grip and I bent my head to her right tit and took the nipple in my mouth.

"That's it baby," Glenda said, "Just relax, play with mommy."

And then she screamed as I bit the nipple as hard as I could. I don't know if I bit through it or not, but I was trying to. She let go of me and I was off of her and the bed and running for the bedroom door before Norm knew what was happening. I ran downstairs for the kitchen, grabbed a carving knife out of the knife block and then got in a corner and got ready to fight Norm off. It was maybe five minutes before Norm came into the kitchen and saw me cowering in the corner with the knife.

"I let you fuck my wife for over two years and this is the thanks I get? You threaten me with a knife?"

I didn't say anything, just stayed in the corner with the knife up and watched him.

"You had it made kid. Good pussy and lots of it and it could have stayed that way. I'm calling Social Services tomorrow and telling them I want you out of here. I'm going to tell them you tried to rape my wife while she was asleep."

One thing that happens when you accept that you are on your own is that you grow up fast. You also learn a lot watching TV and Glenda's favorite shows were on Lifetime and they always had shows about child abuse and the like and I watched with her and learned a lot. When he was done talking I said:

"You do that and I'll tell them all about the last two years and that you tried to rape me. It will be your word against mine and while you may be the adult I know too much about Glenda's body -- the scars, tattoos and birthmarks -- and it won't matter who believes what, but the rumor will go out that you and Glenda are pedophiles. Most people believe that where there is smoke there is fire. Best you just tell them that you took a job out of state and are moving. You say anything against me and I'll show you just how effective a crying young boy can be when he yells "sexual abuse."

He turned and walked away and me and the knife went to my room.

Norm left on his trip the next day and Glenda threw murderous looks at me until the lady from Child Protective Services came to pick me up. Then it was tears and "I'll miss you sweetie; I wish it didn't have to be this way." She gave me a final hug and I looked down inside her blouse and saw the bandage on her tit and I smiled to myself. Served the bitch right. But I was going to miss the fun and games.

My next stint at the Youth Facility only lasted five weeks before I was placed in another foster home. I learned years later that every effort was made to get the kids out of the center because it was more expensive to keep them there than to place them in homes.

I was with Bill and Sharon Winkler for almost nine months. They had two kids; John who was my age and Marsha who was two years younger. The two of them didn't like me because as they saw it I was competing with them for family resources. Any money spent on me was money not spent on them. The two of them were always picking fights with me and then running to mommy and daddy and blaming me. Finally the Winklers decided that they couldn't take the turmoil any more and back to the Youth Facility I went.

Next were Bud and Alice Turmint. Alice had always wanted children, but for some reason she couldn't have any. So she talked Bud into becoming a foster family. Bud gave in to her, but he didn't like it one bit. He was happy that there hadn't been any "brats" around and he let me know just how unwelcome I was -- never in front of Alice of course.

Then Alice fell, hit her head and broke her leg. She was never "quite right" after hitting her head and Bud was only too happy to tell Social Services that Alice was going to require all of his attention and that even though Alice and I had grown close I was going to have to go.

I was three months past my sixteenth birthday when I went to live with Steve and Fran Myers. They had sixty acres just outside of town and they kept horses. It was soon apparent, at least as far as Steve was concerned, that I was there as another pair of hands to do the work the sixty acres and horses required. By that time in my life I was used to the fact that whatever family took me in wanted something from me and for the most part I was willing to go along if it kept me out of the Youth Facility.

Steve and Fran had a sixteen year old daughter and Merrily thought her shit didn't stink. Mom and dad treated her like a little princess and she was spoiled rotten. She expected me to suck up to her and to kow-tow to her like mom and dad, but I was having none of it and so she didn't like me and I ignored her. One of the things that Merrily did was ride horses at horse shows. She rode the horses and I mucked out their stalls. She rode the horses and I shoveled the shit out of the Logan horse trailer. She rode the horses and I got to brush and curry them.

It was two days after my seventeenth birthday when I walked into the barn and the lights went out. I was on my knees shaking my head and trying to clear it when Steve stepped in front of me and in a voice full of rage said:

"That's just a taste of what you will get if you lay a finger on Merrily. She's too good for the likes of you so you had best keep your dick in your pants."

I managed to get out, "I don't even know what you are talking about."

"Bullshit you little turd. I saw you watching her work Baron in the corral. I saw the boner you had in your pants."

It was true. I had been watching Baron being worked and I had gotten a hard on, but it was from watching his wife, not his daughter. Fran packed a pair of Wranglers better than any woman I'd ever seen and she filled out her shirt just as good. But I wasn't going to tell Steve that. And I wasn't going to just take what he had done to me. He was a grown man, an adult, and he had to blind-side a kid? Fuck that shit!

"No way would I touch that little whore. She isn't going to give me fleas. No way am I taking a dog's left-overs."

"What? What are you saying?"

"Your little Miss Perfect spends her evenings out behind the silo on her hands and knees while Buck (their male Great Dane) makes her his bitch. I ain't taking no dogs sloppy seconds."

"You're lying you little bastard!"

True, but so what? He started to kick me and I rolled to the left and my hand hit metal. I looked down and saw a small hand axe lying on the floor in the straw. Steve charged at me and kicked at me again and I avoided the kick and brought the axe up and smashed the flat side of the blade into his knee. He screamed and went down.

"You'll pay for that you little bastard; I'll kill you" and he got up and dragged his bad leg toward the house. I knew he had a couple of rifles, shotguns and hand guns in the house so I ran past him into the kitchen and grabbed the keys to the pick-up truck off the hook just inside the door and ran for the truck.

Long story shortened, the cops caught me. My story was backed up by the huge bruise on the side of my head, but the bottom line was that it didn't matter -- I'd stolen the truck and that's what counted. Back to the compound I went only that time it wasn't to the Youth Facility, but to the seven buildings inside the barbed wire fence and I was going to be there until I turned twenty-one.

I was there six months and one day I was called into the Vocational Training office and one of the councilors asked me if I would like to get out. I said yes and one month later I was doing my Basic Training at Fort Knox, Kentucky. I did my three years, got out, got a job and got on with my life.