- Author
- 11/20/2015
- 2,490 Words
- 2,782 Views
- 49 Comments
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
My LIfe: In Pieces - 2. Don't Ask For More
This chapter contains sexual situations and physical abuse recalled from actual experience, and is not intended to titillate anyone.
My Life in Pieces: Don't Ask For More
It was a scary night. Thrown out of my house, I headed downtown. I hadn't been in downtown Toronto much, and never on my own at night. I got off the streetcar when we got to Yonge, which is the main street in the city; it divides east and west Toronto.
I walked up the street looking at all the lights, and to me, weird shops. The stores that were open sold sex and drug aids. Some places advertised live girls all the time. I stopped to look at the pictures until the bouncer shooed me away, saying, "Come back when your dick's a little bigger, kid.”
I would have loved to get a peek in there!
I wandered up to Dundas and Yonge - a bit of a rough place. The night people were definitely out and about. So were lots of cops. I turned onto Dundas, and walked west toward the bus station. I know what my brother Joe had said, but I really need the restrooms, and they were open all night. It was pretty creepy in there. Lots of older, rheumy guys, and I may have been paranoid but there seemed to be lots of interest when I unzipped to use the urinal. It was so not clean in there and I couldn't wait to get out.
I left and went across Yonge Street to an all-night coffee shop. I ordered coffee and a doughnut, and then tried to disappear into the corner. Cops came in there in droves and I tried my best to look 18, but I didn't. I looked like a terrified kid. The cops didn't seem too interested in me, but someone in there sure was.
I'd noticed him watching me, so I found a copy of the Toronto Star to read and avoid his eyes. After about forty minutes of this he finally slid into the booth. I was scared to death. I mean I grew up in a sort of Catholic home; I was pretty sheltered and had never been a situation remotely like this. Looking back, I wish I would have asked the cops to help me. But there you go, I didn't. Things were about to change and not for the better.
The guy across from me was skinny, had terrible skin, and his eyes looked sort of like a shark’s – haunted and deadly. He grinned at me with teeth that may have never seen a dentist. I guessed he was in his late twenties.
“Hey, little bro, lend me a dollar for a coffee?” He kept looking around like he was nervous. I gave him a five-dollar bill and tried to leave, but he grabbed my arm. He nodded at my bag. “You run away?”
“No, I’m going to visit my grandparents.”
He laughed. “Little bro, I’ve seen enough runaways to know. Your parents toss you out?”
I sat back down and nodded.
“Don’t worry, little buddy. If you want, you can hang with me. I’ll show you what to do, and I’ve got a room. It ain’t much, but we can crash there. My name’s Jeff. What’s yours?”
“Tim,” I answered.
What real choice did I have? I agreed to go with him. I bought us a pizza too. He took me back to his place; it was horrible. Painted hospital-green, it was a single room. The toilet was down the main hall, and it was shared with I don’t know how many others. The room was a mess; I didn’t see anything crawling, but I think I just didn’t look close enough.
We ate the pizza, and listened to the little TV. Jeff asked me why I left home, so I told him how my dad kicked me out. He just shrugged. I asked him why he was out on his own; he said he’d been since he was 14 and he was 23 now. Jeff said that me being gay or bi would make life easier. When I asked him how, he told me, “Cuz you sort of want it anyways dontcha?”
“Want what?”
“Sex – like with men. Easier if you are already gay.”
I just stared at him. “Is that what you do – have sex with men?”
“Yeah. I try to convince them to take a hand-job or a blow, but sometimes they wantcha to bend over.”
“Blow?” I asked, but right now I felt like throwing up.
“Blow-job. Don’t you know? Haven’t you done nothing yet?”
I shook my head. No, I’d done nothing other than watch my Mum die, my dad beat me and then throw me out of the house.
“Look, you know what a hand job is, right? So a blow is just done with your mouth. Some dudes will pay more if you promise to swallow their jizz. Up to you.”
God.
I guess I looked sick because he said, “You need to learn it, Timmy boy. It costs money to live, even in this crappy place. Or, you can go back home.”
"What about going to like a shelter or something?”
“You can, but you’ll like probably get beaten up and your stuff will be swiped.”
I wanted to cry. I wanted to go home, as awful as it was. My father had said not to bother with his sisters, my aunts, but I decided to call them tomorrow. Right now I just wanted to sleep.
“So, Tim, you got more money?”
“A little.” I think I had a bit over $200. “You need to give me some to help pay for the room and stuff. Then you come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll show you what to do. Maybe if we earn enough we can get a better place.”
“Ok. That’s fair. Can I go to sleep now? I’m really tired.”
“Sure, Tim-boy.” He showed me the couch, and I pulled out my winter coat to use as a blanket. Jeff gave me a very old pillow. I tried not to think about bugs.
We went to a cheap diner to eat the next morning. Money was going fast. After ordering, I called the first of my aunts. They all were angry; they all said awful things to me, calling me ungrateful. Asking how I could be such a bad son. But Mum had said I was good, strong. Had only she seen that? All of them hung on me except the youngest. She was in tears, saying she was so sorry, but her husband would be furious if she did. I told her it was okay.
I couldn’t believe I was out here alone.
I sat down to eat, and I looked at Jeff who was going to teach me the art of gay sex. Something I’d always wanted, but I was completely not ready for – on the street, with strangers.
Jeff wolfed down his food, and asked me for money. “I’ll buy some weed. It helps.”
Weed? One day out of the house and I was well on my way to being a whore and a drug addict.
****
We slept the afternoon away. Jeff had been out for an hour, and I just decided to sleep while he was gone. He woke me about 7pm.
“Get up, Tim. We gotta get going.”
I rubbed my eyes and sat up. “Where are we going?”
"Fuck, are you stupid? We gotta work. Come on.” He was rolling joints at the little table. He lit one and drew the sweet smoke into his lungs. He handed it to me. I took it. I’d never smoked anything, and the smell was weird but not unpleasant. Jeff let his breath go.
“Come on, take a drag. Suck through the joint, and then hold it. It makes the night go by faster.”
Of course, I coughed horribly as I sucked in my first marijuana smoke. He laughed, but then Jeff encouraged me to try again. I managed to do better this time and I felt the effects. I felt lighter, and I felt like giggling.
Jeff put a couple of joints in a cigarette package and said, “Come on, you can have more later.”
Jeff had put on a very tight t-shirt that showed his thin chest and belly; it was way too small and couldn’t be tucked in. His jeans too were tight and my eyes were drawn to the hefty bulge under the zipper.
He looked at me and grunted in disgust. “You need better clothes, kid. But, we’ll do something about that tomorrow, no time now.”
And off we went.
Men cruised the Church and Wellesley area. We stood waiting, and it wasn’t long before a car pulled over. Jeff walked up and leaned in. He turned, opened the door, and waved me to him. I was nervous; my heart thudded in my chest.
“Get in.”
I crawled in the back while Jeff sat up front. We drove for a few minutes and the car turned into a darkened parking lot.
The driver, our customer, joined me in the back, and Jeff followed him in. The man unzipped his pants and opened his shirt. His dick was already hard and he pushed Jeff’s down to it. I watched both fascinated and horrified as Jeff opened his mouth, engulfed and sucked it. The man grabbed my hair and pulled me towards him. Any good the joint was supposed to do was gone in that second. “You, let’s see your dick.” He pulled at my jeans and he slapped me then – angry I wasn’t faster. I undid them and pushed them down.
“Nice, now let’s see it.” The man grabbed my limp cock and started to masturbate me. It felt good in spite of my fear. “Now boy, you suck my tits, while I play with you. Your friend is a good cocksucker.”
I did as I was told. I licked and sucked his nipples, with direction from him about when to nibble and bite harder. While I worked my tongue, he jacked me and Jeff slurped away. The guy started moaning, getting close to coming. Finally he held Jeff’s head in place as he came. I was still hard.
“You suck your little friend off. I want to see that. And don’t ask for more, you’re lucky I let you bring him.”
Jeff glared at the guy, and shoved me back onto the seat. He crawled over me, sucked me quickly, and skillfully. I’d never felt anything like it; it was my first blowjob.
“Nice. Now get lost.” The guy drove off after we got out of the car. Jeff spit on the ground. “Prick could have driven us back. Come on, Tim.”
We started walking, and we hadn’t gotten far when we were stopped again. There were two men this time.
“You boys have the time?”
Jeff grinned. “Of course.”
“Hop in. The little one in the back.”
That was me. The passenger got in with me. He massaged my leg and genitals and pulled my hand onto this growing package. They drove back to the empty lot we’d left ten minutes before.
I could hear Jeff working away and his customer groaning. My guy unzipped and pulled out his meat. He looked at me. “Well?”
“So, you want a hand job?” I asked, remembering what Jeff had told me.
The guy laughed. “Suck it, kid.”
Fuck. I touched it; it was smooth and soft and I moved my hand up and down the shaft. I felt my cock stir. From the front was a lot of slurping and groaning. My guy pushed my face toward his hard dick. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes. I sucked it, and licked it, trying to copy Jeff.
Then I felt a great yank, as I was pulled up by the hair, and was met with a hard slap. My head rang. I must have yelped.
The guy was furious. “Are you stupid? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
I stared.
“If I wanted my dick chewed I’d let my wife do it. Try again, and if I feel your teeth, I’ll smash ‘em out. Got it?”
Nodding and crying, I sucked him, carefully hiding my teeth. He pushed my head up and down making me choke and gag. When he came I wasn’t ready and thought I was going to drown.
When he’d done he pulled me off, gave me $10 and pushed me out of the car. Jeff got out and helped me up. We watched the car drive off. I turned around and vomited.
Jeff lit a joint and took a few drags, before he remembered to hand it to me. I smoked it willingly, sharing it with Jeff. He seemed kind of upset, but he smiled at me.
“Come on. I think I need to teach you a few things. Then you’ll be ready to work.”
We got back to Jeff’s room and he was pretty angry. “You fucked up our night. Fuck! I must be nuts. You need to learn, little brother.”
He hit me then, in the face, and stomach over and over until I begged him to stop. He undressed, and sat on the bed. “Come here.”
I went to him and he told me to strip. I shook my head, but he lifted his hand and I did as I was told. I didn’t want to be hit anymore. “On your knees.”
I knelt before him. He sat stroking his cock. I watched it harden. “Now you’re gonna learn.”
He made me blow him. He hit me a few more times until I gave up and obeyed.
After he’d come, I lay on the bed in pain and in tears. He turned me onto my back, touching me gently, kissing my body, and playing with me. I got hard under his fingers and mouth. Once I was moaning, and he was hard again, he turned me onto my belly. He put on a condom and crawled between my legs. He poured lube onto my ass and plunged his fingers into me.
I screamed and tried to crawl away.
“Lesson two, Timmy. You gotta do it. You gotta be stretched and opened so johns can fuck you. Best to let me the first time.”
I begged him not to, but he continued to push his fingers into me. He pulled out, and then I felt him push his dick against me; he wasn’t gentle and I didn’t think I’d live through the pain. He thrust in and out of me for some time until he finally came. He wasn’t kind when he pulled out of me either, the pain was incredible.
He stroked my head, and covered me up. “I’m sorry, little brother. Better it was me.”
Funny, I didn’t feel lucky at all. But I would.
****
C'est fini
-
21
-
7
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Story Discussion Topic
Open Club · 61 members · Last active
Recommended Comments
Chapter Comments
-
Newsletter
Sign UpSign Up and get an occasional Newsletter. Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.