My Fantasies Ch. 07

And then UH-OH -- Edgar ran out of the hotel, his head swiveling all around searching for me and Timmy. His eyes bugging out, his face purple with rage. We ducked down in our seats and remained that way longer than was necessary.

***.

We didn't relax until the bus pulled onto the interstate and the realization sunk in that we were going to make it -- that we were free from Edgar.

"Johnny?" Timmy said softly.

"Yes?" I said.

"Why didn't you take the money from the safe? It would have served him right!" he asked.

"I know the man very well," I said. "He'll probably put out a call to friends in town to keep an eye out for us, but that'll be it...if we took his money he'd search for us everywhere until he found us and got his revenge..."

Timmy added: "Sure, he can always find two other boys at the bus depot to take our places!"

That chilling thought kept me staring blankly out the window for hours.

EPILOGUE

Two weeks later I went to the Minneapolis library and sent an anonymous email to the police department back there.

It read: "The man who owns The Fairmont Hotel, Edgar Rice, is a sexual predator and pimp. He recruits teenage boys arriving at the bus terminal. He lures them to his hotel with promises of fame and fortune then steals their belongings and forces them to sexually service hundreds of men. He is a danger to every unsuspecting boy arriving in your city."

I am sorry I don't have the nerve to do more.

***

Timmy and I have a nice, one-bedroom apartment on the West Bank. We have decent paying jobs and are planning on taking night classes at the university.

I have reconciled with my family after five, long years. They thought I might be dead. They couldn't care less that I'm gay and living with my lover. Like me, they adore Timmy. His family welcomed the both of us with open arms and have accepted who he is.

I search the internet every day for news about Edgar. I will never give up hope that someday he'll be arrested or killed.

In the meantime, my heart goes out to the boys who fall into his trap. The only advice I can offer to starry-eyed young men is 'If it sounds too good to be true -- it probably is!'

Miami Redux...

He bought me a great dinner and now we were walking side-by-side in the darkness back towards the hotel where I was hoping he'd pay for a room for the night.

He suddenly placed his hand on my ass through my threadbare slacks and began pinching and squeezing it. He went so far as to push his finger directly on my anus. Alarm bells went off in my head and I thought, 'I might not be so lucky tonight -- this guy might actually fuck me!'

I tried to calm my pounding heart by telling myself, do what you have to do John, it's supposed to storm tonight and a warm bed in the hotel is a helluva lot better than sleeping in the park in a driving rain storm.

I mean, taking it up the ass can't be that bad, can it? Queers do it all the time, right?

I tried to calm myself by remembering my first three nights in Miami after my car refused to start.

I wanted to check-out Miami Beach so I parked on a street between an ocean-front park and a row of sleazy, rundown hotels. I couldn't believe how cheap the rooms were, I mean, there I was on the beach and they only charged me twenty-bucks a night...yes, this happened a long time ago...I read somewhere that those fleabag hotels have been modernized and are now considered 'kitschy' but they weren't when I was there.

After three nights in a hotel, I was so low on money I had to choose between food or a room. I couldn't look for a job - my car still wouldn't start but at least I could sleep in the back seat, or so I thought until the cops stopped and said it was against the law. I told 'em my car problems but they didn't care.

So during the day I walked up and down the beach, and at night I would sit in my car until I saw a cop car, then I'd go to a private place in the bushes to sleep for the night.

Yes, it sucked, but there wasn't much I could do about it. At least I was close to a public restroom complete with showers.

Anyway, every night I saw one or two young guys like me hanging-out by the men's room door. At first I didn't know why they would be there but I caught on quickly.

Whenever a kid was standing outside the restroom, an older guy, who I assumed was parked on the street, would approach the boy and they'd talk. I was close enough to hear their voices, but too far away to understand what they were saying.

Most times, the boy would follow the man and climb into a car on the street; but once or twice, I watched the two of them go into the hotel across the street.

Ya know, I'm young, not stupid -- it was all about sex -- gay sex!

Heck, last night a huge black man approached a pretty little white boy and they walked right towards me to the bushes. I held my breath, ready to run, but luckily they found a space next to mine.

My senses were on high alert. I didn't move a muscle for fear of being discovered.

I heard what could have only been the voice of the big black guy: "Rub it through my pants, boy...yeah, that's good!" After a minute or two he said, "Open my pants, boy, and take out my cock!"

I don't know how it happened or why it happened, but I sprung a boner.

"Yeah, that's a good boy...now wrap your hands around it and jerk me off!"

Oh my hell, my dick began throbbing. I reached down and squeezed it thru my jeans.

I instantly became overwhelmed with guilt and shame. I had never so much as ever thought about sex with another guy, but here I was totally turned on and wanting to hear more.

The big man said, "Get on your knees, boy - take it in your mouth!"

Ohhhhh, I almost shot my load...

I heard a high-pitched voice say: "That wasn't our deal -- that's extra -- give me ten more bucks!"

The big man said, "I'll give you five more and promise not to beat the shit outta you!"

I heard the rustling of leaves and pictured the boy on his knees taking the big black cock in his mouth. I was so excited I had to pull my hand away from my crotch so I wouldn't cum in my pants. I tend to be somewhat loud when I climax.

I don't know how long the boy sucked the man's cock. My head was lost in a dense fog of lust. I heard the man suddenly groan then softly exclaim: "Yeah-yeah-yeah-swallow it all boy-ohhh-yeahhhhhhhh..."

I hate to admit this, but the moment they left, I whipped out my hard-on and feverishly jerked-off.

So anyway, back to tonight...I placed my hand on the guys upper thigh and gently massaged him. I'm pretty new at this, and I learned the hard way -- I had to remind myself, 'Keep him excited, John, but don't make him cum too soon.'

The other night when I was walking back from dinner with a guy, I made the fatal mistake of directly rubbing his hard cock thru his slacks and damn, wouldn't you know it, we were thirty-feet from the hotel and a free room for me when the asshole blew his load in his pants.

You know how guys lose interest after they get what they want? Well, I ended up sleeping in the bushes that night. Lesson learned!

We turned the corner where the park was across the street, and the hotel entrance was thirty-feet away. He put his arm around me and pulled me into the street towards the park.

I broke free from him, smiled, and said, "I can show you a better time if we get a room in the hotel -- I'd l-o-v-e to be naked with you in a bed!"

When I saw the big smile on his face, I knew I'd be warm and dry for at least one more night.

Just Another Handjob

"Why don't you suck me off this time? You know you want to!" he growled in that low, husky voice of his.

"I don't do that - you know I'm not gay!" I said to him for seemingly the hundredth time not expecting an answer as my hands found his stupidly big belt buckle in the darkness of the front seat of his car.

He sighed and said, "I don't give a shit - just take out my cock and get on with it!"

What a crude asshole! I thought as I finally worked his pants open and lowered his zipper.

Of all the guys in my apartment building, Jessie is my least favorite. He's the most arrogant, presumptuous prick I know. He thinks he's entitled to special favors just because he pays for my golf every Saturday and takes me out to dinner two-three nights a week. He's lucky I 'do him' at all.

And then it happens again...the very moment I wrap my fingers around his hot and hard manly flesh I spring a boner and my fate is sealed: I'll jack him off then I'll go home -- I'll run into my bedroom -- I'll push my slacks and briefs down to my knees -- I'll flop down on my belly and grind my hard-on into the mattress until I explode into my foreskin...and it will be one helluva climax!

His cock feels so alive in my hand I become lost in a dense fog of lust. Animal-like groans escape from deep within my throat.

His hand is caressing my hair. The tenderness causes my heart to race wildly. And then as always with guys, he applies a downward pressure on the back of my head trying to force my mouth to his erection. I've never done THAT for any guy and I certainly wasn't going to start now!

When he felt my resistance, he groaned in frustration then said, "Johnny, at the end of the month my boss is sending me to Hawaii for two-weeks - I'd love to take you with me...we'd play golf every afternoon and eat at the best restaurants every night... "

My heart flutters and my resistance simply melts away. I curse myself for being so weak. I go down on a man for the first time in my life.

***

There's an old joke: A guy goes into a bar and orders a shot of whiskey. As soon as the bartender sets in front of him he picks it up and gulps it down. The man chokes and makes a face but tells the bartender, "Give me another one!" The man gulps the second one down, chokes and makes a face and tells the bartender, "Another one, please!" The bartender says, "Maybe you should slow down, buddy!" The man replies, "I'm celebrating - I just had my first blowjob!" The wise old bartender smiles and says, "Hey, I'm happy for you but take it easy with this stuff!" The man replies, "But I can't get the taste out of my mouth!"

That's the way I felt that entire first week. I discovered the hard way that once you let a man cum in your mouth he expects it every time, and if he knows you'll swallow his load he'll make you do it three-four times a day. It got to the point I couldn't even taste food.

Not only that, but they treat you differently, too.

Once a guy knows you'll suck his cock whenever he tells you, you're no longer his equal or even his friend for that matter. He treats you like a second-class citizen.

I had the last laugh though. When we got back from Hawaii I dumped his sorry ass and found a nice man who appreciates it when I go down on him.

Becoming the Bosses' Bitch

WARNING: The following story contains a graphic description of non-consensual sex. Please do not continue reading if such stories offend you.

I moan into the darkness as my hips begin an almost imperceptible movement forcing my stiff prick back-and-forth between the warmness. What is that? I wonder. I get the feeling I should stop, but it feels too good.

The fuzzy cobwebs in my head clear just enough to realize I am lying on a bed; I am on my side and someone is reaching over me gripping my erection. Oh God, I feel the unmistakable pressure of a man's hot and hard penis pressing against my butt cheeks.

Nooooo...I am in bed with a man and we're both naked! How can this be?

I open my mouth to protest -- to tell him to stop but no words come out. My head is spinning. I am so dizzy I think I'm going to be sick. I begin to struggle with him trying to put some distance between my asscheeks and his hard cock.

I hear him say, "Good, you're awake."

My heart feels like it's going to explode. Every nerve-ending in my body is acutely on edge. Oh my God -- I'm in bed with my boss! This can't be happening!

He releases my stiff prick, positions his hands on me in such a way that with little effort, I suddenly find myself laying flat on my stomach. With cat-like quickness, he rolls over until his body weight has me pinned to the bed.

Before I understand his intentions, his knees push apart my thighs and he is semi-crouching behind me. He hooks an arm under my belly and forcefully lifts me until my head and shoulders are flat against the mattress, my hips are high off the bed and my legs obscenely spread wide.

I now know his plans for me and with all my might I try to fight him off.

The struggle is short-lived. His paw of a hand has found my balls and he squeezes just hard enough to make me stop fighting him.

He laughs in my ear and says, "I love it when a fagboy tries to fight me -- it REALLY turns me on!"

I scream at him but nothing comes out. I hear myself shouting "STOP-STOP-STOP" but it is only in my head. What has he done to me? Why can't I speak?

He tightens his grip on my balls. I am frozen in place afraid of the pain he can inflict upon me in such a vulnerable position.

"Okay cutie, reach back and put it in for me!" he gruffly says.

When I make no effort to comply with his demand he crushes my balls in his strong hand. I almost pass out from the pain. I see stars dancing before my eyes.

Tears stream down my face. I begin to quietly cry -- I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he has conquered me. Yes, I am vanquished. To fight with this man would only mean more pain for me until he gets what he wants anyway.

I reach under my body until I find his pulsating manliness. I shiver at the power and heat I feel in my small hand. I reluctantly guide the mushroom-head to my entrance. I begin to panic. There is no way I can possibly take that monster inside me without it ripping me apart.

"Good boy, see how easy this is? I'm gonna count to three -- and when I say 'Three' you're gonna push your sweet little ass backwards and help me pop your cherry, understand me boy?"

When I don't respond he squeezes my balls hard causing more tears to run down my face.

"UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?" he angrily asks me again.

"Y-Y-Yes, sir," I whimper.

"ONE..."

I am powerless against the brute strength of this madman. A palpable fear seizes control of my entire being.

"TWO..."

I can feel every vein and ridge of his manly cock as I press the glans against my virgin hole. This is really going to happen whether I want it to or not. My breath catches in my throat.

"THREE!!"

***

Afterwards he made me shower with him. Not only that, but he had me soap his entire body. I tried very hard to be careful. I made the washing as mechanical and impersonal as I could.

I was finishing soaping his underarms when he smiled at me and said, "Enough of that, cutie, you can wash my cock and balls now!"

I winced at the crudeness of his command. There was no avoiding it but I wasn't sure of the best way to go about doing it without getting him excited again.

"Take it in your hand, boy, and soap it up!" he said firmly.

I took a deep breath and took his flaccid penis in my left hand and gingerly soaped it with my right.

Oh noooo...he became excited again. Worse yet, I became excited too. When he saw me spring a boner he laughed. It was by far the lowest point of my life.

"Yeah, you're gonna take to my cock better than I coulda hoped..." he says. "I bet it'll only take me two, three days max to break you in..."

I was wrong -- now I was at the lowest point of my life!

His voice softened, "You can wash it better if you get closer to it...get on your knees, cutie..."

Oh nooooo...

When I was slow to respond he menacingly added: "...or else I'll crush your tiny balls again!"

EPILOGUE

My friends and I argue about the best way to train a new bitch but seldom mention the most important aspect of all: luck.

My dick gets hard at the sight of young, pretty boys all the time but that doesn't mean I want to train them all to service me. Well, heh-heh-heh, maybe I do, but I don't waste my time and energy trying to train the untrainable.

No, the single most important factor is being lucky enough to have a Cutie standing before you in the first place, and then being able to read his body language, and the ability to see through their bullshit answers to tough questions.

Any boy with low self-esteem automatically qualifies whether they're gay or straight so that becomes one determining factor. Another area I explore are boys who act cocky and self-assured when you meet them, but once you scratch beneath the surface they expose their false bravado as nothing more than a desperate act to mask their overwhelming insecurities and self-doubt.

I simply love boys who cannot hide their self-loathing and display a visible lack of self-respect and confidence. They are easily flustered and get downright embarrassed by my increasingly personal questions that have nothing to do whatsoever with the job for which they are interviewing. They become red-faced, begin to stutter and stammer incoherent answers and want nothing more than to flee the room and escape my merciless grilling of them.

These are the boys I can break-in and turn-out in less than a week. I correctly deduced Cutie to be this type of boy. I had him sweating profusely before I told him he got the job. You should have seen the expressions of bewilderment, relief and joy on his pretty face.

Goddamn, my dick was so hard I reached below the desktop and gave it a firm squeeze right in front of him!

I curse myself for not buying a lottery ticket that day. I know I would have surely won the jackpot the same way I knew Cutie was going to make me a wonderful little sissyboy!

I Really Need to Be More Careful

WARNING: The following story contains a graphic description of non-consensual sex. Please do not continue reading if such stories offend you.

I was fooling around with this old guy in the backseat of his car when his fingers suddenly squeezed my boner thru the jeans I was wearing.

"Wow," he laughed, "you really ARE a boy!"

I snapped at him, "I told you so!"

The only reason I agreed to leave the bar with him was because he had been so adamant I was too pretty to be a guy...well, that and the fact he was handsome and he had a nice hard-on in his slacks.

He had sat on the barstool next to mine and immediately struck up a conversation.

"You know this is a gay bar, don't you, cutie?" he'd asked me. "Lesbo's hang-out across the street at 'Two Lips!'"

I hadn't blushed in a long time but that certainly caused my face to turn red.

"Uhhh no, trust me, I'm a 'he' not a 'she,' I said to him.

I felt a slight pang in my heart when I turned to face him and saw how handsome he was. I guessed him to be in his fifties but I kinda like older men anyway.

"Bartender, give me and the pretty girl here another round!" he called out to Tommy the bartender.

Tommy smiled and nodded and brought us the drinks.

"Are you even old enough to be in this place, young lady?" he asked me with a wry smile on his handsome face.

I blushed again and answered, "I'm twenty-one and I'm a GUY!"

He suddenly took my hand in his and caressed it.

"No way," he said. "Look how small and delicate your hands are...sooo smooth...even your fingernails are perfectly clipped."

I abruptly pulled my hand from his - the man was beginning to annoy me.

"Don't get mad, cutie, I'm giving you a compliment," he said. "You are such a beautiful girl you belong on magazine covers..."

My heart began pounding. I found his persistence frustrating. I thought, C'mon man, this is getting old - move on to another subject...but then again, I was also flattered by his attention.