Peter Banning is the pen name for a convicted serial child molester who came onto alt.abuse.recovery to spread the good word that he was a victim, too, and that only sick, vindictive people would feel that he should have to face any real consequences for his actions.

I'd like to share a hope I have for our friend. A vision, really. You know, Peter, ever since his crushing rejection at the hands of his daughter, hasn't quite had the dating life that he had hoped for. Nobody has seemed to want him any more than she did, and of course, we all feel the appropriate degree of sympathy for his plight. I picture him finally finding someone who wants him and can give him the love he deserves.

Pete's dream date (my dream, his date) begins with him being beaten unconscious by the LAPD. As he comes to, he finds himself spreadeageled nude, slung over a bicycle rack with his hands and feet bound to the base of the rack. It's at this point that he meets Max. Max, the oversexed rottweiler. Actually, he's a great dane/rottweiler mix. Max takes one look at Pete and it's love at first sight. Harder, Max, faster!

We call Max "The Black Widower". You know why? Because after he gets done making love to a man, he gets the uncontrollable urge to start gnawing on his limbs like they were hambones. Flesh tears and blood sprays, and soon Max has eaten the flesh off Pete's arms and legs. Bones clatter as tendons snap. Pete hits the ground, his forehead breaking open as it hits the base of the rack. Hey, Pete wanted to get loose, right? Well, now he is, spinning on his back like a beetle. Or is that a cockroach?

Max has yanked his now skeletal limbs out of their sockets and is off in a corner, cracking them open in his jaws to get at the marrow. It's hard for Pete to see him doing this, though, because he's been blinded by the blood pouring out of the gash in his forehead. He rocks back and forth, trying to roll over, the hard, dry pavement ripping his wounds open anew as they are rubbed across it, the living flesh scraped out some more with each pass. Back and forth, rocking higher and higher, as a crimson streak forms on the ground, the clotting blood mixing with the dust, outraged tissue screaming in protest until the pain is a fire devouring the empty sockets his joints once filled. Finally, he tumbles over onto his stomach and begins crawling like the worm he is.

He pulls himself along with his chin, gasping for breath, inching toward a small cool pond a few feet away, an oasis in a desert of burning asphalt. It is then that his lover returns. Oh no, not his little princess, who he so fondly remembers doing. No, it's Max, horny and ready for more! Harder, Max, faster! Some say that the greyhound is the fastest breed of dog on earth, but Pete doesn't believe that any more! No way!

Max flips Pete over on his back, and rips the flesh off of his face and chest, leaving his eyes intact. Then, ever so gently, he shreds Pete's genitals with his teeth. As he becomes faint, probably not from pleasure, he hears a cop going "Good boy, Max". Then darkness.

But Pete doesn't die. The caring physicians on duty immediately patch up his gaping wounds with acrylic. As he comes to, he is hanging from a meat hook, carefully inserted so that it doesn't puncture any major organs, but merely rubs against them. An IV inserted into his throat is replenishing his starved tissues with a bountiful supply of HIV positive blood. He hangs in front of a mirror, so he can see what he has become, the pond being just inches from what people would call his ass, if only they could tell that this is what it used to be. The IV is removed and Pete is left there, hanging, twisting in a cool breeze that somehow burns, until the heat and dehydration carry him off. His body is left for the maggots. The buzzards deserve better.

And Pete thought that nobody cared! No, Pete, you're ever in our thoughts. I'll miss you, buddy. About as much as your daughter does.

And let us return, now, in a spirit of love, to "An Open Letter to Suba", unless you'd like to see the love I shared with a latter day alt.support.boylovers regular whose homepage I came across, after hearing rumors about some of the turmoil he caused over at GoPlay.

Those who came here from "Massage, Homophobia accusations and a pet peeve" can click here.