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************************************************ You*quot;ll Do*lt;/p*gt; Though inspired by the present pandemic, this is not a Covid-19 story, it is more a *quot;This is the way the world ends*quot; man and boy story.*lt;/p*gt; **lt;/p*gt; Chapter One*lt;/p*gt; **lt;/p*gt; Larry Winters wasn*quot;t expecting to see anyone. As far as he knew there wasn*quot;t anyone to see. Even when things had been normal he wouldn*quot;t have expected to see anyone walking down the M4 motorway, but now, with the world as it was, his first thought was that he was having a halucination, the product of wishful thinking.*lt;/p*gt; He wasn*quot;t going fast, the creation he was driving couldn*quot;t go very fast, perhaps some forty miles per hour at the most, and from his driving seat he could see quite a distance ahead so it would take about a minute to reach the walker; time enough to see if he was seeing things or if it really was a person.*lt;/p*gt; He*quot;d seen plenty of people in the small towns he*quot;d driven through since he left the factory in Bracknell, but they hadn*quot;t been walking, they*quot;d all been dead.*lt;/p*gt; Everyone was dead now, except him and the walker ahead. Unless, he grinned to himself with gallows humour, the one ahead was dead as well, a zombie on the march.*lt;/p*gt; He eased off the go pedal, slowing down a bit so he had more time to think before he reached the walker. Whoever, or whatever it was ahead wouldn*quot;t hear him, electric vehicles don*quot;t make a lot of noise, only the tyres on the road, though he did have six of those.*lt;/p*gt; In it*quot;s first life the vehicle would have made a lot of noise, the great six cylinder diesel pounding out the decibels, but that beast was gone, along with a lot of other things. In that first life it had been a London Transport Routemaster, an iconic bus from a past age, designed to negotiate crowded streets with ease despite its size and carry more than seventy passengers when full.*lt;/p*gt; Now it was a fully electric luxury mobile home, though still liveried in its original red.*lt;/p*gt; As he drew closer, Larry could see that it really was a person walking along the M4, and not a very big person either. He felt a surge of ridiculous hope that it would prove to be a boy; a boy would make life, or whatever there was left of life, just about perfect! Larry liked boys, liked them a lot, and now there was nobody and no laws to say he couldn*quot;t like them. He just had to find one. No problem in a world of dead people.*lt;/p*gt; It looked like a boy, Larry thought as he drew closer, his heart beginning to beat faster. What were the chances of that? The first living person he*quot;d seen and it was a boy!*lt;/p*gt; The chances were minimal, but so what? The chances of him being alive in a world where everyone was dead were minimal. The chances of him working on an experimental conversion of a Routemaster into a luxury electrically driven mobile home when the Death came were minimal, so why shouldn*quot;t it be a boy?*lt;/p*gt; Larry was about a hundred yards away when the walker heard or sensed the approach of the big, red, silent Routemaster, and turned, stared for* a second in disbelief, then frantically waved his arms.*lt;/p*gt; His arms.*lt;/p*gt; It was a boy!*lt;/p*gt; A real, live, living boy!*lt;/p*gt; Larry drew the big Routemaster to a stop beside him and pushed the button to open the door.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Stop!*quot; he yelled in a moment of panic as the boy made to rush inside, *quot;Stop there! I don*quot;t know if you*quot;re safe!*quot;*lt;/p*gt; The boy froze, one foot on the step.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I haven*quot;t been ill, mister,*quot; he quavered, *quot;Take me with you. Please. Please take me with you.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; A mixture of fear, hope and desperation showed in the boy*quot;s blue eyes.*lt;/p*gt; Larry noticed that his eyes were blue.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Not been ill?*quot; he asked, *quot;Not even a little bit ill?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;No. Nothing, mister. Honest,*quot; the boy*quot;s lower lip trembled. *quot;Everyone else at my school died, but I haven*quot;t even had a sneeze. Please take me with you,*quot; he pleaded.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;What school?*quot; Larry asked. It didn*quot;t matter a stale turd what school the boy had been to, but it was something to say while he studied the boy, searching for any sign of dishonesty or disease.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Wallington Prep, sir,*quot; the boy gulped, remembering the bodies he had left behind, *quot;It*quot;s a boarding school, sir, and everyone died.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *Tears began to glisten in the boy*quot;s blue eyes.*lt;/p*gt; Larry liked the way the boy had started to call him `Sir*quot;, it made his balls churn a little. Of course, it was only the way a prep school boy was used to addressing masters, but it triggered something in Larry*lt;/p*gt; *quot;How old are you?*quot; he asked. The boy looked young, too young really, and if he*quot;d been at prep school then he probably was too young.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I*quot;ll be eleven in November, sir,*quot; the boy said, and that meant he was only ten still, ten and with almost six months to go before he was even eleven, and eleven was a good three years short of the age Larry liked boys to be.*lt;/p*gt; But what were the chances of Larry coming across a boy of fourteen? Somewhere around absolute zero, probably.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Not even a sneeze?*quot; Larry asked while he thought.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;No, sir. Not a single sneeze.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; It was the `sir*quot; that did it. Too young, but a boy. `You*quot;ll do,*quot; Larry thought.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Listen very carefully,*quot; Larry said to the almost crying boy, *quot;And decide if you want to come with me. You*quot;re a boy and I like boys. You understand? I*quot;ll take you with me, look after you, keep you safe, but you*quot;ll have to look after me as well. You*quot;re far too young really, but I guess you have hands and a mouth.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; The boy looked puzzled and then his glistening blue eyes widened as comprehension dawned.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;You will want me to do sex things with you?*quot; he croaked.*lt;/p*gt; Larry nodded.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Wank me, suck me, and there*quot;s only one bed,*quot; he said, making things very clear.*lt;/p*gt; The boy gulped. He knew a little about sex things, not much, but a little. He had gone to a boys*quot; boarding prep school and he knew some of the boys, the older ones, did things, things they weren*quot;t supposed to do and things he wasn*quot;t supposed to know about and this man expected him to do those things with him!*lt;/p*gt; *quot;It*quot;s your choice,*quot; Larry said bluntly, *quot;Suck pursaklar escort my cock or get eaten by a pack of wild dogs. I know which I*quot;d choose!*quot;*lt;/p*gt; So did the boy!*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I don*quot;t want to be eaten by dogs,*quot; he whimpered.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Sensible boy,*quot; Larry smiled, *quot;Get in, then.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; A look of relief washed over the boy*quot;s face, quite a pretty face, really, Larry thought.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Never know,*quot; Larry smiled at the boy, *quot;You might get to quite like sucking cock.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I*quot;ll try, sir,*quot; the obedient prep schoolboy whispered.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;First things first,*quot; Larry said as he closed the door behind the boy, *quot;And for you, the first thing is getting clean. If you walk down the bus you*quot;ll find a toilet and a shower room. You have a really good shower and a good wash of your hair. You can throw those dirty things you*quot;re wearing out of a window. One thing this old bus doesn*quot;t have is a washing machine, so no way they can be got clean enough to wear again. And, you won*quot;t really be needing clothes, anyway.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;No clothes?*quot; the boy squeaked.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Boys look at their best without clothes,*quot; Larry grinned, *quot;And when you*quot;re clean I reckon you*quot;ll be quite well worth looking at, even if you are a bit on the young side. Now, go and make yourself look nice for Sir.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; Larry had never been a dom, but he found himself slipping into the role with ease; dom and pedo. Well, why not? No-one was going to stop him, were they? He*quot;d never really seen what men got out of being pedos, messing about with boys too young to have anything to mess about with, but beggars can*quot;t be choosers, and at least he*quot;d get his cock sucked.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Hang onto your shoes, though,*quot; he called, *quot;Need those for when we go shopping.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; Shame the boy was so young, really, Larry thought as he eased the Routemaster into motion again, but young or not, when all was said and done, he was a boy, and that was all that really mattered. He was a boy and he had hands and a mouth, so what was to complain about? He had an arse as well, of course. Be a shade tight to get in it but, from what he*quot;d read, young boys arses stretched as well as older boys arses if one took a bit of care about using them.*lt;/p*gt; Okay, it was a shame he wasn*quot;t old enough to have a nice, teenage cock to suck nice, thick teenage spunk from, but, who knows, they might live long enough for him to grow one. And, anyway, there were other things one could do with a boy; things he*quot;d never done but had the occasional fantasy about, and somehow, a prep school boy fitted those particular fantasies very nicely.*lt;/p*gt; The boy was trying hard to think, but thinking wasn*quot;t easy. He*quot;d been so relieved, more than just relieved, when the red bus appeared, almost out of nowhere, saving him from all the horrors, horrors he definitely didn*quot;t want to think about.*lt;/p*gt; The shower water washed some of those horrors away, along with dirt and grime. A shower was something normal, not the same as the showers he had every morning at school, of course. There were no other noisy, shouting boys, laughing and making naughty dirty jokes and comments about other boys*quot; cocks, and made up tales of what senior boys did with younger boys. Those stories were always doing the rounds, but he hadn*quot;t known any boys who actually did the things they talked about. The man driving the bus said he wanted to do those things with him, though; that he would have to do them or be left to be eaten by a pack of wild dogs.*lt;/p*gt; He knew he would be, that or something just as horrible. How he*quot;d managed to stay alive this long he didn*quot;t know. Everyone else was dead. That was why he*quot;d chosen to walk along the motorway, to get away from dead people.*lt;/p*gt; He*quot;d walked for he had no idea now how long, going from service station to service station, drinking bottled water and eating whatever there was to eat, hoping for a car or a lorry or anything to stop for him and save him, but there hadn*quot;t been any. Not until this red bus and a saviour who wanted to do sex things with him.*lt;/p*gt; What sort of a saviour was that?*lt;/p*gt; A saviour with a bus that had a shower, he told himself, and not just a shower, but a shower with hot enough water to revel in.*lt;/p*gt; What sort of bus had showers like that? What else did it have?*lt;/p*gt; It had a bed. The man had said it had a bed. Only one bed, so he would have to sleep with the man, and that was when the man would do sex things with him, he supposed. People did sex things in bed, didn*quot;t they?*lt;/p*gt; He didn*quot;t really know anything about sex things but the man had said he would have to suck his cock. He looked down at his own cock, about the size of his finger when it was soft, his index finger, and a bit bigger when it went hard. Perhaps it would be like sucking a finger, he thought, and sucked a finger to see how that felt.*lt;/p*gt; It felt like, well, like sucking a finger, and if that was what sucking a cock felt like, then he could do that all right. He would have to wank the man as well, but that would be just holding his cock and moving his hand up and down for a bit, and he did that with his own cock sometimes, though he only used a finger and thumb, so he could manage that easily enough.*lt;/p*gt; He felt better now, now he was clean and his hair had been washed and wasn*quot;t all horrid and itchy anymore, and felt better because doing sex things didn*quot;t seem as if they would be too bad. He hadn*quot;t done them yet, of course, but he was sure he*quot;d manage.*lt;/p*gt; He sighed, his mind made up, and he turned the water off and dried himself. It felt all wrong, but he did what he*quot;d been told to do and threw his clothes out of a window, keeping just his shoes.*lt;/p*gt; He thought about wrapping the towel round himself, but the man had said he liked boys to be naked and he knew he had to do what the man wanted if he was going to be saved and kept, so he took a deep breath, slipped his feet into his shoes and went back up the bus so the man could look at him naked.*lt;/p*gt; It may have been different if he hadn*quot;t been a boarding prep school boy, if he had been an ordinary state primary school boy. rize escort At school he*quot;d had showers every morning, showers with other boys and there had always been a master in charge, making sure boys behaved, so being seen naked was nothing unusual, as it would have been for a boy who hadn*quot;t attended a school like his. Of course, being a boy, he*quot;d looked at other boys and other boys had looked at him. The master always looked as well, though he usually pretended he didn*quot;t, but they always got dressed after their showers and this time he wasn*quot;t going to get dressed and the man wasn*quot;t going to pretend not to look. *lt;/p*gt; He stood just behind the man who was driving the bus, the man who*quot;d saved him, the man who wanted him to be naked so he could look at him, the man who was going to do sex things with him and he wasn*quot;t sure if he was terrified or excited, though why he should be the least bit excited about letting a man look at him naked, he hadn*quot;t the faintest idea.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Don*quot;t stand there,*quot; Larry said with an encouraging smile, *quot;Come right up the front, up by the windscreen so I can get a good look at you,*quot; and the boy nervously put one foot in front of the other and half-sidled, half-crept to the very front.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;But people might,*quot; he began and stopped.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;No-one alive to see, is there,*quot; Larry smiled, knowing what the boy had been going to say, *quot;Just you and me now.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; The enormity of that made the boy*quot;s eyes start to water, but the man*quot;s smile was warm and comforting and the boy didn*quot;t cry.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;My, but don*quot;t you look something special,*quot; Larry breathed as he admired the naked ten-year-old and the boy wondered what was special about him.*lt;/p*gt; Larry wasn*quot;t in the habit of thinking ten-year-old boys were special, boys of that age were too fat or too thin and too small to be of any interest, other than the very occasional exceptionally pretty face that made him wonder how delicious that boy would be in a few year*quot;s time, when he had a cock worth getting at, but this boy wasn*quot;t too fat or too thin and he was quite pretty in a very boy way.*lt;/p*gt; He had fair hair, more deep gold than fair really, combed down at the front so it covered his forehead right down to his eyebrows and long at the sides, almost covering his ears. Still wet from his shower, Larry thought it would be a lighter shade of gold when dry, a perfect complement to his blue eyes.*lt;/p*gt; Nice mouth as well, a neat little bow of a bottom lip, boy red lips that it was so easy to imagine having round his cock or parting to allow tongue into his mouth when he was kissed.*lt;/p*gt; His body was firm and lean, no doubt from all the walking he*quot;d done since he left his dead school behind him, two or even more weeks ago. It was a wonder he*quot;d survived so long, a ten year old boy on his own in a dead world.*lt;/p*gt; Larry*quot;s eyes travelled lower, taking in every detail, the twin brown nubs of his nipples, delightful against the pink whiteness of his skin, the surprisingly flat, puppy-fat free stomach with its little innie belly button, the defined V that led down to the smoothness of his pre-teen pubis and the undeveloped little cock that dangled there over undropped yet balls.*lt;/p*gt; Little, but enticing in its littleness and complete with just the right amount of foreskin, a cock that, little or not, begged to have a mouth round it. Might be as much as three inches when it*quot;s hard, Larry thought, three skinny inches, three finger fat inches at the best, but it would lengthen and thicken in time.*lt;/p*gt; If they lived long enough for that to happen.*lt;/p*gt; Long legs as well, not too long, just perfect boy long and with some shape to them, muscle no doubt developing from all that walking. And hairless of course and that made them perfect legs.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;You are beautiful,*quot; Larry said and meant it and smiled in admiration at the sight before him.*lt;/p*gt; The boy didn*quot;t know how to react; he*quot;d resisted the conditioned urge to hide himself, that bit of himself, and kept his hands by his sides because he knew the man wanted to see that bit and he had to do what the man wanted if he was to be kept safe. He*quot;d always been told to keep that little bit hidden away, apart from when they had showers at school and different rules applied then, so he rationalised that this was like school in a way, different rules but he still had to do what sir said. *lt;/p*gt; He didn*quot;t know what to think though, when the man, sir, said he was beautiful. People didn*quot;t say boys are beautiful. They said babies are, which they clearly weren*quot;t; they said girls were, and he wasn*quot;t too sure about that, but nobody said boys were beautiful.*lt;/p*gt; He didn*quot;t know what to think, so he didn*quot;t know what to say, so he just said, *quot;Am I?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; Larry looked at the boy again, appraised him again. He*quot;d never thought of pre-teen boys as having beauty; adolescent boys, yes. Their beauty was in their flawed perfection, their gangly limbs, their awkward transition from boy to man, but this boy wasn*quot;t flawed, every bit of him was in perfect proportion- even his nose.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;No,*quot; Larry said softly, *quot;Beautiful is the wrong word. You are perfect.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; The man was smiling, a soppy sort of smiling, the sort of smiling a doting aunt might smile to a favourite nephew, but it was a real smile, it went all the way into the man*quot;s eyes and the boy wondered why it did that.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I*quot;m not perfect,*quot; the boy protested, *quot;I*quot;m always getting told off at school for getting things wrong, so I can*quot;t be perfect.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;You*quot;re not in school now,*quot; the man said, his voice still soft, and, unable to restrain himself any longer, he stretched out his left hand, reaching for the boy.*lt;/p*gt; If it had been a teenage boy he*quot;d found the bus would have been stopped by now, stopped in the middle of an empty motorway and his mouth would have been full with teenage cock, but the perfect boy was only ten and Larry kept driving, just reached out a hand because he had to.*lt;/p*gt; The world went into slow-motion for the boy. He saw the man*quot;s hand begin to move and he knew where it was going, going to where he*quot;d been told ankara rus escort so many times that he must never let a man*quot;s hand go, and he knew that, in the world he*quot;d left behind, that he should run away screaming, but that world was a different world and it didn*quot;t exist anymore, so he let the hand move and even had time to wonder if he*quot;d hate it when the hand reached where it was going.*lt;/p*gt; He didn*quot;t hate it. He did draw in a shocked breath, but he didn*quot;t hate it.*lt;/p*gt; Perhaps it was a shocked breath because he didn*quot;t hate it. It felt strange, but not hateful strange. He*quot;d felt it often enough himself, but this was different, felt nothing like when he felt it himself, and, he didn*quot;t know why, but after a second or two, he wanted the man to keep feeling it.*lt;/p*gt; The man had to stretch out to reach him and feel him and all he had to do was move a bit to his right and he would have been out of reach, but he moved to his left instead so it was easier for the man to feel him.*lt;/p*gt; He drew in another sharp, shocked breath when the man*quot;s fingers went under his little cock to stroke his tight balls. He never bothered with his balls when he played with himself, he didn*quot;t know he could get feelings like this from his balls.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Oooohhh,*quot; he gasped and looked at the man in amazement.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Nice?*quot; Larry asked gently.*lt;/p*gt; The boy nodded, needing a moment before he could articulate, *quot;Yes.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Good boy,*quot; Larry approved and approved more when the boy shuffled again to his left so he was almost in front, half-blocking the view out of the bus windscreen.*lt;/p*gt; Part of the boy*quot;s mind was telling him he should not be doing this, not be naked and letting a man play with his cock and balls, and he wasn*quot;t at all sure he wanted this to be happening. He was sure he ought not to be; he*quot;d been told so many times that there were nasty men who molested and abused boys, did wicked, dirty things to them, and this, having his cock played with by a man had to be wicked and dirty.*lt;/p*gt; Didn*quot;t it?*lt;/p*gt; Was it better to be wicked and dirty than to refuse to be naked and let the man play with him and be eaten by wild dogs?*lt;/p*gt; He did NOT want to be eaten by dogs!*lt;/p*gt; And the man didn*quot;t seem nasty. Yes, he had said he would do sex things and he was doing a sex thing now, playing with his cock and balls, but he was playing with them very gently and very nicely, and he played with himself, didn*quot;t he? So why was it so bad letting a man do what he did himself?*lt;/p*gt; And the man had said he was beautiful and perfect, and would a nasty man say things like that?*lt;/p*gt; He wanted someone to explain it all for him, explain why he knew it was bad for it to happen and why, if it was bad, it felt nice.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;You look lovely standing there,*quot; Larry smiled again at the boy, *quot;But you might find it more comfortable sitting on my leg.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;But you*quot;re driving,*quot; the boy croaked a whisper, not wanting to shout that he would really like to sit on the man*quot;s leg and be cuddled and told everything was all right.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Not too much traffic about today,*quot; Larry quipped, *quot;And we*quot;re not going fast, so I think I*quot;ll be able to manage.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; The boy moved, slowly and unsure at first, but he managed to squeeze between the big steering wheel and the man and sit himself on the man*quot;s left leg.*lt;/p*gt; He didn*quot;t know what to do next, but he didn*quot;t have to work that out because the man put an arm round him to hold him in place and the man*quot;s hand was warm and comforting on his bare back and he snuggled in close and burst into tears.*lt;/p*gt; The man*quot;s hand gently stroked his back while he wept and sobbed, silently comforting him while he cried out his fears and horrors, cried because he was safe now, cried because he was naked and the man was going to do sex things with him, cried because he knew he had to do those things and those things were wrong, cried because he liked being cuddled by the man, cried because he shouldn*quot;t like being cuddled, cried because he thought he didn*quot;t mind being naked and cuddled, cried because the man*quot;s hand felt so nice and comforting as it stroked his bare back, cried because he knew he had liked the man feeling his cock and he really, really shouldn*quot;t have liked that, cried because the man had said nice things to him, cried because he didn*quot;t know what to do.*lt;/p*gt; Boys, unlike girls, run out of tears fairly quickly, and when he had soaked the man*quot;s shirt with tears and snot, his sobs slowed and turned to sniffles.*lt;/p*gt; Larry held the wheel straight with his right knee and tugged his wet shirt off with his right hand. He couldn*quot;t get it off fully because his left arm was round the boy and no way was he going to let go of the boy, but he got enough off to be able to pass the scrunched up cotton to the boy.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;There,*quot; he said, *quot;Have a good blow and dry your face. Don*quot;t worry about the shirt. That can go out a window.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Yes sir. Sorry, sir. Thank-you sir,*quot; The boy*quot;s confused mind was back at school, being told to smarten himself up by a kindly master.*lt;/p*gt; The `sirs*quot; made Larry*quot;s balls churn again.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I*quot;m going to let go of you for a moment, while I get this thing off properly. You think you can manage not to fall off?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I think so sir,*quot; the boy sniffled.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;There,*quot; Larry said when his shirt was off and on the floor and the boy back where he belonged, cuddled in close, *quot;Feeling a bit better now?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Yes, sir. Thank-you, sir,*quot; the boy said bravely, though he still needed a good sniff. *quot;I*quot;m sorry for being such a baby sir,*quot; he muttered.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I don*quot;t think you*quot;re a baby. I think you are a wonderful, brave boy.*quot; A little flattery would do no harm right now, Larry knew. He didn*quot;t know much about pre-teen boys, but the adolescent ones he*quot;d enjoyed had all been susceptible to a bit of flattery. Do you think a wonderful brave boy would be able to make a cup of tea?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;I know how to make tea, sir,*quot; the boy managed an almost scornful look,* *quot;I*quot;m not that much of a baby!*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Well, if you go up those stairs behind our seat, you*quot;ll find a room with a door the end. Through that door is a kitchen and you can make some tea. You call out when it*quot;s ready and we*quot;ll stop. Okay?*quot;*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Yes, sir,*quot; the boy said, *quot;Thank-you, sir.*quot;*lt;/p*gt; There was, Larry thought, something extra nice about having a boy call him `sir*quot;.*lt;/p*gt; *quot;Yes, you*quot;ll do,*quot; Larry told the empty motorway.*lt;/p*gt;