Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: A lonely boy and his family move into a new house with the hopes of starting a new and fresh life! But, the house that they move into happens to be haunted. Although the family is unaware of the ghosts that still live in the house, the lonely boy, named Max, soon finds himself in the company of one of them. A bond is instantly made. With good comments and an overall positive review on this story, I will make a part two! Thank you for reading!|
June 11, 2011... Boston Massachusetts
The McCartney family has just finished packing their family car with whatever they could fit. Already waiting inside the car is Prudence McCartney and her two children Maxwell and Lucy. The three of them watch as their father, John, straps the last of the luggage onto the roof of their car. Soon the family will be making their journey to a small town in Pennsylvania. John and Lucy had grown up in Pennsylvania but actually met in college in Boston Massachusetts. For many years, John had owned and operated a very successful business in Boston; so successful that enough money had been saved up to finally do what he and his beautiful wife had planned since they had first married. They had always wanted to start a family and raise them in a quiet part of the country where the kids could grow up worry free. Unfortunately it took John a few more years than expected to save up enough money for this to become a reality. Once his business took off, money no longer became a factor.
So John and Lucy found a beaten up house for an amazing price and decided to buy it and give it a shot. Since purchasing the house, they have thrown in a lot of money to fix up the house, often taking weekends off to see and check up on the house. Eventually the house had been fixed up to near perfection, and that's when the move had been scheduled.
Now the family is all in their mid-sized SUV and they begin to pull out of their driveway. For young Maxwell, a.k.a. Max, he was leaving the house that he had lived in his entire life. He is only 12 years old at the time of the move. His interest in other hobbies such as comic books and certain television shows and movies such as Star Trek and Star Wars, did not make him an instant popular kid. In fact, making friends was never easy for Max. A good looking boy he was growing up to be, but that was not enough in the cruel social world of middle school His older sister Lucy was the exact opposite of her brother. She was beyond popular, and was often ignored by her as an attempt to maintain her popularity at school. Max's busy father and hardworking mother also did not provide all that he would like. He had spent most of his spare time watching re-runs of his favorite television shows. As hard as it is going to be for Max to leave his few close friends, he is taking this as an opportunity to restart his life and maybe make some more friends.
The trip itself took much longer than it should have. The constant need for bathroom breaks with the women in the car and the high adventure personality of John was slowing the trip down. When the afternoon sun was beginning to set, the announcement of the father had woken up Max from his "catnap". As Max listened to his father announcing that they had arrived to their new home, Max was beginning to clear his eyes. He took a close look at the house from the outside and noticed how old it was. It reminded him of a house that he and his dad had seen on TV when the show talked about houses that Civil War soldiers had stayed in after battles.
"Dad...exactly how old is the house?" Max asks as his dad parks the car.
"Well they said that it was built in 1875 and it had been restored many many times!" His dad knowledgeably replies.
"Is it safe?" Prudence asks, jumping into the conversation.
John laughs, "Of course it is honey."
Everyone in the car steps out and stars at the house, which now looked much bigger than the pictures that John had shown them.
"It looks kind of eery John..." Prudence mentions.
"Well it has some history... that's for sure..." John replies.
"What kind of history?" Lucy asks, finally interested in the conversation.
"Well I wasn't planning on telling you all until we got settled in..."
"Well I think you should tell us now John!" his wife barks.
"Yes dear... when the house was built in 1875, a very rich man moved his family into the house. He and his wife had one son... Apparently the man was a drunk and for no apparent reason, came home one day and shot his wife and then his son while they slept... The man was later found dead in the woods a few miles back. They think he drank himself to death."
The story left all three of the family members with their jaws dropped. John sensing the mood had been killed, tries his dearest to save it.
"But according to the newspaper that released the story, they were not sure if he had killed them."
"But two people died in this house?" Prudence asks.
"Yes dear." John sighs.
"And you are moving us in here! What is wrong with you!" his wife begins to scream. "Is that why we got this house for almost nothing."
"Honey... there are no such things as ghosts!"
"Well if they are, you can get mini Ghost Hunter over here to hunt 'em down!" Lucy says as she laughs at her little brother Max; referencing the fact that he watches the ghost hunting shows on TV.
Eventually everyone began to relax. They slowly moved whatever they had in their car to the house. The rest of the furniture had been delivered a day before and was already set up by the crew. The house was all set for living. For a few days, everyone claimed to hear voices or unexplained sounds coming from everywhere around the house, except for John of course.
Months go by and the initial paranoia of everyone had seized except for Max. His room was the fixed attic. It was nice and cozy and did not scare Max, but he always claimed to be hearing footsteps and all sorts of sounds when trying to sleep, but he never once felt threatened.
September 16, 2012...Pennsylvania
Over a year has passed since the McCartney family had moved to Pennsylvania. The house that they live in had been much better than they had thought after John had mentioned the events of this house in the past. Everyone's lives went on, and not to Max's surprise, not much had changed. His dad, whom had promised to spend more time with him, had picked up a part time job that ended up becoming his number one priority. His mom got herself a job in order to make some "side money", and his sister was the same as she had always been. The only difference is that through one year at his new school, he had yet to make a friend. Now not just known as the weird one, but he had decided to do what he wished he could have done at his last school, and tell everyone that he is gay. He had known for a long time now that he was attracted to boys, and not girls, and embraced it. He was proud of who he was.
Unfortunately, that did not go great with his classmates who now bullied him for his interests. Everyday, he would go home and sit in his room listening to music and writing in his journal. He became interested in poetry and music lyrics, and would often write those until he fell asleep. His interest in writing was not the only thing growing, his body was too. He was going through puberty and that meant what it means for every 13 year old boy. He had no such thing as a sex life, but often imagined how it would be. By his discoveries alone, he learned how to masturbate. He eventually found porn on his laptop. He found a ruler and even measured his erected penis at 4.5 inches! He began counting the hairs one by one as they grew out of his once totally bare body. He wanted to find out new ways to please himself and he did by fingering and teasing. He was going through what every boy his age goes through, and it was one of the few things in his life that made him happy.
On one particular day at school, Max was beaten up for no apparent reason other than being gay. His attacker was suspended from school but the damage was done. A few bad cuts covered both his upper and lower lips. His mother came to pick him up from school early, and once they were home Max dashed up to his room and sat in the corner crying his eyes out. For what seemed like ages, Max cried and wished he wasn't who he was. He wanted to be "normal" and had a "normal" life.
His sobbing continued until he heard a sound come from across the room. His head, which was in between his knees, jolted up to look at where the noise came from. He saw nothing and sent back to sobbing. Soon after, the sound appeared again. He looked once again, but this time he got up to see what it could be. He could not find anything at all. It had distracted him from his crying though, which was a relief to Max. He figured that an old house like his was bound to creak and make sounds at times. It had been doing that since they moved in a year ago.
Later on in the night when everyone had gone to sleep, Max pulled out his journal and began to write about what happened that day with passion and a bit of fiery. After writing down a detailed description about the daily events, he re-read what he wrote and began to cry again, once again feeling miserly about his life. With anger, he tossed the journal across the room and covered his face with his hands as he cried even harder than before. Feeling exhausted from everything that had happened, he put his hands down on the floor where he sat, finally resting up some. At that same moment, a cold breeze had chilled Max's young body, but his right hand began to feel warm. For some reason, this warm feeling was making him feel much better. His tears had stopped falling, and his heart rate had slowed down. He was feeling calm and even a bit happy for no reason. His arm was acting weird though. It was only his right arm, and the warm feeling was moving up and down his arm at a slow pace, and it eventually made a final rest at his hand. He felt it more around his palm and in between his fingers than anywhere else. But even with all these weird feelings, Max was too tired to stay awake, and he eventually fell asleep at that spot.
The bullying at school slowed down to an extent, but did indeed continue. Max was unfortunately becoming used to this way of living. His mom and dad tried their best to help, but Max was becoming more and more distant. He slept all night and day in his room if he wasn't at school. They were concerned that he had no friends, but hoped that it was just a phase that would end soon.
Max was not at all concerned about this, or at least not as much as his parents. He felt safe and comfortable in his room. Two weeks had passed since he felt that warmth and each night since that first night he felt that warmth on his right hand and arm, it had come back. He was not sure what it was, and honestly did not care. He loved it. It felt to him as if he was wanted, and that was a feeling that he had not felt in his recent life. This all changed one rainy night in October. It was around 11:00 pm. He had no school the next day, but even with the knowledge that he can stay awake longer at night, he was very tired and wanted to get to sleep. But his mind kept wandering, and the more it wandered the closer it got to thinking of "naughty" thoughts. Soon enough, the teenager became horny. He ignored his erection because he wanted to go to sleep. But minute after minute passed and still his boner stood, causing a tent to form underneath his bed covers. He still ignored it.
But something weird began to happen. He felt a weird burst of pleasure coming from his penis as if he was masturbating, but he wasn't. Lost and confused, Max did not ignore these random feelings, not that he could. The feelings started off slowly, only sending pleasure through his body occasionally, but it started getting more frequent. Soon after the first feeling of pleasure, Max was full on moaning! It felt as if someone was jerking him off, and he loved it. He didn't care how this was happening. He began to imagine that it was a boy from school that he had a crush on. The boys name was Richard. He kept calling out Richards name, begging for him to jerk him off harder, and amazingly the sensation felt as if his begging was working. Max could barely take it, he ripped off the covers and pulled down his pants to expose his dick. His 4.5 inch circumcised penis was standing at full attention. He begged for more, and warned "Richard" that he was close to cumming. The feelings increased, and that caused Max to say out loud once again that he was about to cum. The words had just left the boys lips as his penis began to erupt into orgasm. He could feel as if a hand was indeed milking him as he squirted cum onto his white bedtime t-shirt. The pleasure was beginning to subside, and the moans that were pouring out of Max's mouth now became attempts to catch his breath.
The feeling of a hand on his member, instantly vanished. There he was, lying naked from the waist down, his now softening penis covered with sticky cum. He looked at his wet shirt and let a smile out. But as he got up to go clean himself up, he began to wonder. How could he have felt a hand? His imagination was very good, but could his mind do that? He did not let it bother him to much as he was in fact tired when this whole thing had started. He quickly washed up in the attached bathroom, and quickly headed to bed. Sleeping was a non issue now.
November 2, 2012...Pennsylvania
Max was becoming very fond of his room, and he still had no idea why. He could not wait to get home from school so he could hang out in his room. He felt free of everything in the room. He considered himself the most popular boy in the world, or that's at least how he felt. The feeling was different outside of his room, and that made him upset. When he would get home, thoughts filled his journal, words were created in the form of poetry, and pleasure filled his young body. The warm feeling that he kept feeling, was with him every time he entered his room. Sometimes it was on his hand, sometimes it was on his penis. Regardless of where it was, Max loved it.
But one night, a few weeks back, Max could not feel it. It wasn't troubling at first to Max, but eventually it became nerve wrecking. Day after day passed and still no feelings of warmth. Even the random cool chill that he would feel as he walked around his room had vanished. Now, only a few days into the month of November, Max was sad again. This feeling had made him happy, and now it was gone. It was very fitting to Max. He figured it was to good to be true. He tried everything to get it back. He tried to imagine harder. He even went as far as praying, something he rarely ever did, most of the times never at all! Although, nothing worked.
Alone in his room on the night of November 2nd, he broke down in tears. The only thing that has kept him from crying for months now, was gone in a flash. He spent hours on his bed crying and begging for it to come back. And without any warning, it did. The feeling was on his hand. A smile grew on the young mans face as excitement and joy mixed together to create that amazing feeling that he wanted back. He closed his eyes to enjoy it, but as soon as he did it was gone. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, before finally giving up. He opened his eyes and got out of bed. When he looked across the room, his heart practically froze.
A boy, about the same age as Max, stood across the room staring and gently smiling at Max. Max screamed at the top of his lungs! He was terrified. His mom and dad both ran up to his room and opened to door. When they asked what was wrong, Max just pointed at the spot where he had seen the boy, and the boy wasn't there.
"Mom and dad... I swear that I just saw someone in my room!" Max said in a panic.
"Easy Max... there's nobody here..." his dad John states in confidence.
Max looked over and his dad was right, the boy was gone!
"No! He was here. A boy about my age was just smiling at me!"
The parents both laughed calmly.
"Maybe it was the boy that was killed here." his mom Prudence says jokingly.
"Maybe it was!" Max shouts.
"Please just go to bed," John says as he picks his son up and brings him to his bed, "you are just imagining things again son. Don't worry too much okay?"
Thinking that his dad was right Max calmly replies, "Okay dad..." and then both parents leave. His mom turned off the lights on the way out.
Max could not sleep. He kept looking around his room, thinking he saw something. Then he heard footsteps. In a panic, he turned the light on to see nothing in his room. He kept the lights on, and backed into the corner of his bed. He kept the lights on for over and hour and watched around his room like a hawk. Not getting any closer to sleeping, he comes to the realization that he knows what he saw! There was a boy in his room.
"Hello?" Max asks in a voice of horror.
"Is anyone here?"
"I know what I saw... I saw you in my room. I am not afraid anymore, I swear." Max lies.
"Are you what I have been feeling?" Max asks as if he finally gets what has been happening.
Slowly, he could see a figure start to form. Max wanted to scream again, but somehow found the courage to keep it quiet. He watched as this form of a boy filled in. His eyes were wide open in horror. The boy finally formed and just stood across the room. He spoke.
"Please don't be afraid of me. My name is George!" the boy says with a cute smile.
"I'm..." Max started, but fear took over and he stuttered.
"I know, you are Maxwell, but you like to be called Max!" the boy giggles.
The boy slowly walks closer to Max. Max felt like he wanted to run, but at the same time he felt safe around this boy. The boy eventually makes his way to Max's bed and takes a seat right next to him. Max pulls up the covers to cover most of his body, only showing his eyes over the cover.
"I am not going to hurt you haha! If I wanted to, I could have already you know?" the boy says.
"Are... are you a ghost?" Max somehow manages to say to the boy.
"I am... I have been here since I died in 1888."
"You are the boy from the story my dad told us!" Max says as he gets more comfortable, and lowers the blanket from his face. George just smiled at Max.
"So... that feeling...I get. It's you?"
"Yep, that's me."
"Well one day you came into the room and you were sad, so I held you hand. It seemed to make you feel better so I kept doing it."
"What about the... erm..." Max point to his crotch.
"That was me as well!" George laughs.
"Why did you do that?"
"I thought you liked it."
"I did! But..." Max said confused. George senses Max's confusion.
"I read your journal when you are not home. I know that you are interested in boys. You even have a crush on a boy in school. You pretended I was him!" George giggles as he says that.
Max blushed, "But why me?"
"Well, you are in my room you know!"
"Don't be sorry. I have no need for it. I like what you have done to it. I am not sure what these papers are on it... the paper with 4 grown ups walking on a street..."
Max laughs loudly, but then yawns.
"Are you tired?" George asks.
"You should go to bed then."
"But I want to talk to you..."
"We will have time for that. I am not leaving anytime soon."
And with that, Max lays on his bed and covers himself. He turns off the lights, amazed and still shocked at what just happened. He continued to think about that on earth had just happened, and those thoughts were keeping him awake. Max could soon feel something enter his bed covers, and before he knew it, his penis was stiff. George was stroking it for him.
"George?" Max asked.
"Shhh." George cooed. He yanked down his boy's pants and briefs and continued to stroke Max's penis for a few good minutes, getting some good moans from him, and then milked his young cock. He squirted a few times all over his own belly. Only a few minutes after his orgasm, young Max fell asleep naked from the waste down. George looked at Max's naked body and smiled before fading away into the night.
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