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BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY VICTOR J. BANIS
The Astral: Till the Day I Die
Avalon
Charms, Spells, and Curses for the Millions
Color Him Gay: Being the Further Adventures of That Man from C.A.M.P.
The Curse of Bloodstone: A Gothic Novel of Terror
Darkwater: A Gothic Novel of Horror
The Devil’s Dance
Drag Thing; or, The Strange Tale of Jackle and Hyde
The Earth and All It Holds
The Gay Dogs: Being the Further Adventures of That Man from C.A.M.P.
The Gay Haunt
The Glass House
The Glass Painting: A Gothic Tale of Horror
Goodbye, My Lover
The Greek Boy
The Green Rolling Hills: Writings from West Virginia (editor)
Kenny’s Back
Life and Other Passing Moments: A Collection of Short Writings
The Lion’s Gate
Love’s Pawn (as “Victor Jay”)
Moon Garden
The Pot Thickens: Recipes from the Kitchens of Writers and Editors (editor)
San Antone
The Second Tijuana Bible Reader (editor)
Spine Intact, Some Creases: Remembrances of a Paperback Writer
Stranger at the Door: A Novel of Suspense
The Sword and the Rose: An Historical Novel
This Splendid Earth
The Tijuana Bible Reader (editor)
The WATERCRESS File: Being the Further Adventures of That Man from C.A.M.P.
A Westward Love: An Historical Romance
The Wolves of Craywood: A Novel of Terror
The Why Not
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 1965 by Victor Jay; Copyright © 2012 by Victor J. Banis
Originally published under the title, AC-DC Lover
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
I am deeply indebted to my friend, Heather, for all the help she has given me in getting these early works of mine reissued.
And I am grateful as well to Rob Reginald, for all his assistance and support.
CHAPTER ONE
It was only a few weeks after his new stepfather Carl had moved into their house that the trouble began for Lenny Adams.
Lenny was in his mother’s bedroom on some errand he forgot afterwards, and he stopped and stared about him at the new evidence of Carl’s presence in the house—the clothes scattered about, a pair of cuff links on the dresser, a beer can beside the bed. He didn’t know exactly how he got the urge, or why, but suddenly he wanted to see all of Carl’s things, open the drawers of the dresser and see what horrible secrets might be hidden there.
In the first drawer he saw nothing but a few shirts and some undershorts, and he was feeling silly and even a little guilty by the time he opened the second drawer. He poked half-heartedly at a pile of socks, and saw the corner of a photograph. Almost without interest, he pushed the socks aside and picked up a stack of photographs. He stared at the top one, his mouth hanging open, and then looked at one or two more. They were pictures of men and women, doing things he had seen Carl and his mother do, and a great deal more. They were all of them naked, their bodies unashamedly exposed to the camera, and the acts they were performing were things Lenny had heard talked about by other youngsters, but had never seen before, even in photographs. Some of the pictures were of men with women, but some of them were of two or more men together!
He pushed the drawer slowly shut, holding the photographs tightly in his hand, and hurried back to his own bedroom, closing the door after him. His mother and Carl were out—his mother had gone to the doctor for a check-up, and Carl had gone out a short time before.
Lenny lay on his bed and looked at the pictures, staring long and hard at each one. He ran his fingers slowly over the surface, half expecting to feel the touch of naked skin. He tried to imagine himself in those pages, but it was too foreign to his experience, and the image wouldn’t come. His body, however, responded to the efforts, and Lenny was aware of a growing rigidity, almost deliciously painful, in his loins.
He didn’t know when Carl had come in, or how long he had been standing there in the doorway. He happened to glance up once, and there he was, his lips under the mustache curled into an ugly grin, black eyes glittering strangely.
Lenny jumped to a sitting position, the pictures scattering as he dropped them from his hands. He stared at Carl in wide-eyed fright, not knowing what to expect in the way of punishment.
Carl chuckled and came toward the bed, seating himself beside Lenny. Automatically Lenny cringed from him, but the bed was small, and he was afraid to stand and move away.
“You like the pictures?” Carl asked, his eyes boring into Lenny. “Pretty hot, ain’t they?”
When Lenny didn’t answer, he chuckled again, picking up one of the pictures. He held it in front of Lenny. It was a picture of a man and a woman on a sofa.
“Ever do this sort of thing?” Carl asked. His breathing was strangely heavy and rapid, his nostrils flaring wide with each breath.
“Come on now, don’t kid me.” Carl had moved still closer, resting one hand on Lenny’s knee. “A good looking young stud like you, don’t tell me you’re a cherry.”
Lenny wanted to tell him that he didn’t even know what the term meant, but he was afraid to speak. Carl’s arm had gone about his shoulders, holding him close, and the hand on his knee was gently stroking the leg through the fabric of the jeans.
“What do you do, play around with fellows?”
“No!” Lenny almost shouted the word, horrified at the suggestion. He tried to pull away, but Carl held him firmly close.
Carl only laughed again at the boy’s embarrassment and shock. “Nothing wrong with that,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “You oughta try it.”
The hand on his knee had begun to move slowly
