The following program contains material suited for a mature audience. If you are not over 18 you should be leaving now. Of course I can't control you and neither can anyone else really. This story is entirely false except for the true parts. And now for our feature presentation. Viewer Discretion is advised...
My web site is located at http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Atrium/2898.
Call Boy 4 by: Chip Dyp (chipdyp@hotmail.com)
ONE WEEK LATER
I rolled over, trying to get comfortable. It had been a week since, well, since I had been raped. This was my first night back in my condo, and I wasn't alone. Michael and his boyfriend Kris had flown back to Winnipeg when Ryan had called them. Ryan didn't visit me in the hospital after he made sure I was being taken care of. I knew I had disappointed him.
When the doctors said I could go home, Michael wanted to take me to his parent's house. I just wanted to go home. Ryan had told Michael what he thought happened. Michael and by default his parents and Kris knew I was nothing but a no good whore. Although we hadn't talked about me being a hustler, I knew it was coming. I knew that Michael had lost all respect for me. He couldn't even look me in the eyes.
I finally sat up and walked out to the kitchen, to find Kris sitting at the kitchen table. He had a mug of coffee in one hand, and was petting Mac with his other.
"Hi, Ben, couldn't sleep?" Kris asked as Mac jumped out of his lap and walked over to me.
I shook my head and sat down on the rubber doughnut that Michael had bought for me at the drug store. "No, I just couldn't get comfortable."
"I'd offer you some coffee, but you know what the doctor said."
"It's all right," I said quietly. "The fumes are more than enough for me right now. Is Michael still asleep?"
"Uh huh, you know how much he likes to sleep in."
"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically. "I know."
"Did you want a section of the paper?" Kris asked, trying to make conversation.
"No, that's all right." I stood up and grabbed the doughnut. I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, trying to make myself comfortable. The sun was just starting to stream in through the picture window at the front of the house. I tucked my legs beneath me, and thought about Ryan.
The more I thought about Ryan, the sadder I got. When the tears started running down my cheeks, Kris sat down beside me and pulled me close. I started crying uncontrollably on Kris' shoulder. He rubbed my back and told me that everything was all right. But everything wasn't all right. Everything wouldn't be all right ever again.
When I was finally cried out, Kris let me go and asked, "Why don't you call him?"
"How do you know I was crying about Ryan?" I asked as I wiped my nose on the back of my hand.
"Intuition. Besides, you haven't cried about the attack yet. You just have bad dreams."
I blushed a little and looked out the window again. I was hoping this would allow me to avoid Kris' question but he was quite persistent. "You still haven't answered the question."
"I can't call him, I can't talk to him. Why would he love me, a lousy whore?"
"That's not how he sees you."
"That's how he sees me, it's how everyone who knows that I'm a hustler sees me."
"I don't see you that way. Michael doesn't see you that way."
"Yes he does. He can't even look at me. He's lost what respect he may have had for me. I've let him down." I stood up and walked back to my bedroom, leaving Kris alone on the couch. He was nice to try and convince me otherwise, but I knew the score. Michael was here only because he felt he had to be here. He was repulsed by what I had become.
I lay in bed for the next hour, drifting in and out of a restless sleep.
I just wasn't used to sleeping in a shirt and sweats, but I didn't want anyone to see the welts on my chest and legs. It was bad enough that I had to let Michael give me an enema twice a day to make sure that the wounds stayed clean and uninfected. I had just drifted back to the land of the living when I noticed Michael looking at me intently. He averted his eyes when he realized I had caught him staring.
"Hi," I said as I rolled in the bed.
Michael looked up at me with a pained smile on his face, and walked over to the bed. He sat down beside me, and then stared intensely at his clasped hands in his lap. "Can we talk?"
"Look, we don't have to talk," I said as I sat myself up. "It's all right, really. I've..."
"No, we do need to talk," Michael said forcefully. He took my left hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm sorry that I haven't been very supportive, but I keep feeling that I let you down."
"That you let me down?"
"I keep asking myself 'Why didn't he call when his parent's kicked him out of the house?' The only answer I can come up with is that I did something wrong."
"You didn't do anything," I said, squeezing his hand back.
"Maybe that was the problem."
"There's nothing that you could've done, Michael. I pushed you away when I started hustling."
"Yes, but I could've done something so that you didn't have to hustle. I feel like I've let you down. That's why I couldn't look you in the eyes. I still love you, Ben. I still respect you."
"How can you?"
"Because, deep down inside, I know that you are a really great guy. You did what you felt you had to do to survive. In a way, I'm so very proud of you. I'm also saddened that you felt you couldn't tell my parents and me. You didn't have to hustle. I could've helped you, Ben. It didn't have to be this way."
I stayed quiet as Michael wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.
"I want you to promise me, that you won't push me away anymore. I also want you to promise me that you won't go back to the streets. I don't want to see you hurt."
"I promise," I stuttered.
Michael kissed me on the cheek as my tears ran down. He held onto me while I cried myself to sleep. I hurt so badly, deep inside. Having someone hold me while I slept made me feel safe. When I awoke, I was once again alone. I heard people talking in my living room. I pulled on a robe, and walked over to the bathroom.
As I washed my face, I stared at myself in the mirror. There were dark bags under my eyes, and my cheeks were ruddy red. I dried my face and then walked out into the living room. Sitting on the end of the couch, talking to Kris and Michael was Ryan. Michael finished what he was saying, then turned and smiled at me. "Glad to see that you're awake. You've got a visitor."
"Hi, Ryan."
"Hi, Ben."
"Well, Kris and I were just going for a walk when you arrived Ryan," Michael said, patting Kris' knee as he rose.
"Michael," I said trying to get him to stay, to not leave me with Ryan.
"We'll leave you two alone," Michael said, pulling on his jacket. "I'm sure that you guys have lots to talk about."
I watched Michael and Kris walk out of my apartment, without looking at Ryan. When they were gone, I turned to where Ryan was sitting and just looked at him. Part of me wanted to run and kiss him, the other part of me want to run after Michael and Kris.
"If you want me to leave and come back later, I will," Ryan said, standing.
"No, it's all right," I said walking over to the chair facing him, "I'm all right."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. If you want to leave and come back later, I'll understand."
"No, it's all right. I'm uh, I'm glad you're feeling better, Ben."
"I have you to thank for that."
Ryan stopped and looked down. "I didn't do anything, really."
"Yeah, you did. You saved me, and I owe you big time."
"No, you don't. I...," Ryan paused looking for the right words, "Look, I'm sorry. This is so hard. When you told me that you loved me, I freaked out. I'd been thinking about how I'd explain you to my parents, to my friends. How I'd have to tell them...I'd have to tell them..."
I interrupted Ryan, and completed his sentence. "You'd have to tell them that I am a whore."
Ryan shook his head and looked at me. "I wouldn't have put it that way."
"Why not? That's what I am."
Ryan wouldn't look at me as we sat in the quiet living room. I felt like he was pushing me away again, and I couldn't deal with that right now.
"Look Ryan," I said as I stood up. "I want to thank you for saving my life, and I want to thank you for coming to visit me, but I can't do this right now. I know that you could never fall in love with me, and I know..."
I was stopped in mid sentence when Ryan hugged me so very tightly and kissed me passionately. When he broke the kiss he sat back down and started crying.
I stood dumbfounded in the middle of the living room just looking at the floor. Ryan had kissed me, but what did the kiss mean? I desperately needed to know. I sat down beside him on the couch. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and said his name quietly. Ryan didn't say much of anything for several minutes until his tears dried up. "I told my parents that I'm gay. And I told them that I was in love with you."
"What did you tell them about me?"
"I told them about you without going into details. My dad helped me see a lot of things. He helped me realize that I love you regardless of what you've done in the past. Your being a hustler is a part of your past, and I can accept that. I want you in my life. You are everything that I want in a boyfriend. When you didn't answer your phone that night, I came over, hoping that you would talk to me. But there you were, slowly dying in the front hallway of your condo."
"I'm sorry you had to see it," I said quietly. "It had to be horrible."
Ryan smiled at me. "Yeah it was, but you should know. You were there after all."
"I guess I was," I said with a giggle. "Why didn't you come visit me in the hospital?"
"I did. The nurses wouldn't let me into the room, because I had a cold and they were worried that you might have a compromised immune system. When they finally figured out that you weren't infected, you were on your way home."
"Oh," I said quietly. I sat back and sighed. Ryan put his hand on my thigh, and smiled at me. I could see fear in his eyes as the corners of his mouth quivered.
"So, um, do you still love me?"
"Yes."
Ryan started crying all over again and hugged me tightly. I felt so safe in his arms. I started crying, but they were tears of joy this time. Ryan pulled the hair out of my eyes, and kissed me on the cheek. I kissed him back and then taking his hand, stood up. I pulled on his hand, gently encouraging him to follow me to my bedroom.
"Where are we going?" Ryan asked he resisted my pull.
"I want you to come to bed with me," Ryan's eyes opened wide, and he pulled his hand away from me. I smiled at Ryan and offered him my hand. "Let me rephrase that. I'm still really tired, and I would love it if you would hold me while I sleep."
"Oh, I uh, I thought..."
"You thought I was asking you to come have sex with me."
"Well, yeah," Ryan said as his face flushed. "Ben, I don't want to hurt you. I'm scared that if you and I were to, um, well, you know, I'd hurt you."
"It's all right, baby," I smiled and took his hand. "We won't have sex until we are both ready to have sex."
"And until you are completely healthy," Ryan said, squeezing my hand.
"And until I'm completely healthy," I said in agreement.
"Then let's go put you to bed," Ryan said taking my head and leading the way to my bedroom.
When we got to the bedroom, Ryan untied the robe and gently pulled it from my body. I stood in front of him, wearing my sweat pants and sweat shirt. He took hold of the hem and began lifting it. My hands moved to prevent Ryan from completely undressing me. I didn't want him to see me naked. Not when I was still covered in welts. But Ryan persevered and pulled my sweatshirt off. He didn't say anything as he looked at my battered and bruised chest. He just lifted my chin and gave me a kiss. I smiled at Ryan, and blushed in embarrassment.
Ryan pushed my sweat pants down, gently pulling them off of me and then tucked me into my bed. Ryan began to crawl into bed with me, wearing all his clothes when I shook my head. Ryan smiled at me and began removing his clothes. I watched as he undressed in front of me, with no fear and no shame. When he was down to his boxers, he crawled under the covers with me, and pulled me close to his body. He rubbed my back as my breathing slowed and my eyes grew heavy. I pressed my face into his chest and fell fast asleep.
Ryan stayed with me for the rest of Michael and Kris' stay. He held me when I slept, and doted on me when I was awake. When Michael and Kris left to go to the airport, I was sad to see them go. I loved them both, but I knew that I'd see them and talk to them again.
Ryan's parents called the house after Ryan had been at my place for a week, and told Ryan that he was to bring me by the house after the company had left. They wanted to meet the man who had captured their son's heart. I tried to smile when I heard that, but I was scared to death. I think Ryan could smell my fear, and had worked to reassure me that they didn't bite. It didn't work. I was still scared to death.
I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror in pair of dress pants and a silk shirt. I debated putting on a tie, but I thought it would be a little too much. Ryan walked into the room and stood behind me. His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me close. "You look beautiful," Ryan whispered in my ear.
"Thanks. Do you think I should wear a tie?"
Ryan shook his head and kissed me on the neck. "Nope, you are dressed just right."
"I want to make sure I make a good impression on your parents."
"They're going to love you," Ryan said as he let go of me and grabbed his duffel bag. "Well, let's go." Ryan reached out and took my hand. He squeezed it tight and we walked out of my bedroom together.
Supper with Ryan's parents was interesting to say the least. When we arrived at the house, they welcomed me with open arms into their home. Ryan and I sat in the living room and talked with his parents while supper cooked.
I had never felt so uncomfortable in my entire life. I was sitting and talking with Ryan's parents. Ryan held my hand the entire time we sat talking. His parents were very gentle in their questioning. They just asked fluff question, and avoided all the tough areas. When they asked me what I wanted to do after I finished university, I smiled and answered that I was looking for a career in business. I think this confused his parents. They knew I was a law student, and I think they were wondering what kind of law I was going to be practicing.
"So, you are going to be a corporate lawyer?" Ryan's dad asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"Well, no. At least I don't think so."
"But, you've almost got your law degree already, don't you?"
"Actually, I still have a year of law school left. But it's irrelevant really. My admission to the bar is doubtful at best." Ryan looked at me and smiled in support. He tightened his grip on my hand and looked back towards his parents.
"Why won't you get admitted to the bar? You'd think that they'd admit gay members to the bar in this day in age." Ryan's mom asked, sipping her glass of wine.
"My homosexuality is not going to be an issue. They are going to have problems with my lack of ethics."
"Lack of ethics?" Ryan's dad asked curiously.
"Uh, yeah. Um, for the past five years--," I paused and looked down. I wanted to tell them the truth, but I was scared of what they thought. I felt Ryan's hand squeeze my hand a little tighter. When I looked up, Ryan's parents were leaning forward in their chairs. I lifted my hand, and very calmly continued. "For the past five years, I've been hustling to support myself."
"Hustling?" Ryan's mom asked quizzically.
"He was a prostitute," Ryan's dad clarified for his wife.
There was an eerie silence in the living room. No one wanted to say anything.
"Is that why you were in the hospital?" Ryan's dad asked. Ryan's mom looked sick as she sat there looking at her glass wine.
"Yeah," I said quietly, trying to meet Ryan's dad's gaze. "I was attacked by one of my clients."
"Are you clean?" Ryan's dad asked as he put down his glass.
"Dad," Ryan objected loudly.
"It's all right, Ryan. When I was in the hospital, I was tested for all STD's, including HIV and AIDS, and I was lucky. All the tests came back negative."
There was a beeping from the kitchen and it broke the spell that Ryan's mom was under. She got up and walked over to the kitchen. Ryan looked and me and smiled.
"Ryan, why don't you go help you mom in the kitchen?" Ryan's dad asked, pouring some more wine into his glass.
Ryan looked at me, and I nodded back. I'd be all right alone with his father. Ryan let go of my hand, and followed his mom into the kitchen.
"So Ben, how did you meet Ryan."
I stayed silent. I didn't want to rat Ryan out, but I figured his dad deserved a straight answer. I was about to answer, when Ryan's dad help up his hand and let me off the hook. "I won't make you answer that. I have a feeling I won't like what you have to say, but how much did he have to pay?"
"$600." I said quietly.
"For how long?"
"Three hours."
"$200 an hour?"
"That's what I charged everyone."
"Do you love Ryan?"
"Yes, I love him more than he could ever know."
"I think he knows how much you love him. When he told me he was gay and that he was in love, I was worried. But when he told me about you, I realized that he had thought about this a lot. And that he wanted our approval," Ryan's dad paused for effect before he continued. "From what I've seen so far, I think Ryan has fallen in love with a man who loves him."
"Thanks dad," Ryan said as he walked out of the kitchen and over to his father. He wrapped his arm around his dad's neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ryan's dad mussed his hair and smiled.
"So is supper ready?"
"Yeah, mom's just putting it on. She told me to come get you guys."
Ryan's dad stood and hugged his son, before walking into the kitchen. Ryan walked over to me and helped me out of the sofa. He gave me a big hug and a kiss. "I'm so proud of you," he said as he held me, "That had to be hard, telling my parents about your past."
"It was. Your parents are fairly cool."
"Thanks," Ryan said wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me towards the kitchen. "My mom really likes you."
"That's good to hear, 'cause I really love you."
"I love you too." END 15060 Words September-October 1999