from The Inferno BBS
(609) 886 - 6818
(FICTION) Submitted "Hard Money"
I thought I had seen it all in this business, but I'll never forget the night Chris came to my door.
Let's get this straight. I am NOT a male hooker. What I do - and get paid quite well for - is a lot more than sex. I create fantasies. I provide a... service. It used to just be older men who wanted someone young and strong to punish them. Now I get all these Yuppies, guys in their 20's and early 30's who spend all day sublimating their passions and personalities to their careers. By the time they get to me, they want to be turned into children again, and be punished, humiliated, tortured... and I do. Safe, clean, and discreet. Word gets around - I get almost all my business by word of mouth - and I guess my rep is pretty good. It was good enough that Chris had heard about me.
The knock came at the door about 8 p.m. I opened the door to find a kid, really; Chris was 19 when we met, but he could've passed for 2 or 3 years younger. Light blonde hair, cut short into a spikey crewcut. Blue eyes and a baby face. He had on jeans and a hooded pullover that said "Stevens Tech" on it. I couldn't figure out what the fuck he wanted with me.
"Are you Mr. Stevens?" he asked shyly. I said I was and invited him in. He kind of kept his head down tucked into his chin, like he was afraid to look up. But when he realized he was in a pretty ordinary living room, he looked at me.
"My name is Chris. I, uh, asked around the street and got your name. They say you're pretty good, and you can be trusted, and, well, I have a... special problem."
Uh huh.
"I got arrested a few months ago. Possession and sale, just some grass, but they nailed me cold. And wouldn't you know it, I draw the most hard ass judge in the state. I'm out on bail now, but I get sentenced next week, and with this guy, I'm guaranteed two years, minimum. He always gives hard time for a drug rap. Always. Believe me, I've checked him out pretty good. And, well, look at me. You know what happens to guys like me in prison. I gotta survive and I been thinkin' about it, and I figure the best way for me not to get the shit beat out of me and raped everytime I have to take a piss is for me to connect with some real hardass in the place, you know, a real boss type, and kinda be his... y'know, boyfriend or whatever, and maybe he'll keep the other guys away from me."
Well, I had to hand it to the kid. One look at him and you knew he'd be easy meat in jail, and his plan was about the only chance he had for any kind of livable existence. What I couldn't figure out is why he was in my apartment, so I asked him.
"Well, that's just it. See, I'm straight. Or maybe I'm bi, I don't know, I get these feelings sometimes... but that's not the problem. The problem is, I don't know what to do. And I don't know what it's like to be with a man, especially the kind of hard butt you find in prison. So I want you to show me the ropes. Show me what it feels like and what I have to do. And after I do it with you, y'know, in a situation where I know I'm not gonna get hurt or anything, well, I'll kinda know what to expect in the place, and maybe I won't get myself killed by freaking out or trying to go chickenshit or somethin. Y'know?"
Before I could even mention money, the kid pulled out a hundred dollar bill from his jeans. "Will this do it, I mean, just for tonight? It's all I could raise right now, but I could probably get more later."
Yeah, kid. Ok. God, this was gonna be weird. "You ready to go right now? I mean, is that what you wanna wear when we start?" I asked him. He said he wore some stuff underneath his regular clothes. Ok, I told him, I had to go into the bedroom to change, so he could change out here, and I'd be out to start in a minute.
So I go into my bedroom. Now this room is not your ordinary bedroom. I do a lot of my business here. First, I painted it all black, threw up some black curtains, and pushed the bed and bureau into a corner. When I change the overhead light with this dim red bulb, it looks more like a dungeon than a bedroom. And I hooked these pulleys into the ceiling - told the landlord it was for exercise equipment, which it is, kinda - and rigged these ropes. Very versatile. You'd be surprised. Ok, first things first. I stripped off my clothes and threw on just a pair of denim cutoffs. That'd be all I'd need, and even those wouldn't be needed long. Then I checked the ropes and set them for how I wanted them, fixed the light, and went back out.
Chris had taken off his pullover and jeans, and his sneakers and sox , and was standing barefooted, in a pair of blue gym shorts and one of those cheap white cotton athletic t-shirts. Guinea t's, we used to call 'em. God, he was a cute boy - smooth, pale skin, nice chest heaving under the shirt, nice basket poking through the shorts.
Ok, I tell him, once we start it's like a game. We get into character and we stay that way. You change your mind, or wanna leave, you say so and it's over. But that's it, no second chance, and no money back. He nods his head, and before he can say anything, I reach over and grab a fistful of shirt and yank the damn thing off in one piece. God, what a build, like an Olympic swimmer, with hard, flat pecs and perfect nipples big as nickels, and a flat, washboard stomach. His whole body just has the hint of light tan, smooth young skin running from his neck right down to the top of his shorts.
I pull down my fly and pull out my dick, grab him by the hair and shove his face in my crotch. "Okay, boy, start sucking cock! That's all you skinny white boys are good for anyway."
I think I scared him half out of his wits, starting so quick like that. At first he didn't know what to do, and just licked my tool with long, slurpy strokes, like he was licking an ice cream cone. When he realized is wasn't gonna bite and didn't taste all that bad, he gently nibbled on the tip and sucked the head. Then he took a little more, then the whole shaft. Needless to say, I was hard as a steel bar in about 2 seconds, and I'm about 9" erect, so he had quite a mouthful there, but he managed ok for a beginner.
I finally pulled him to his feet and said, "Ok now we're gonna go into the playroom. Just do what you're told and don't say a fucking word or you're dead meat." His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the tone of my voice - this master/slave thing was obviously pretty new to him - but he nodded and followed my lead. I took him into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind us. It took a sec to adjust to the dim light in the black room. I grabbed his hand and fastened it to one of the ropes, then the other, then pulled the gizmo tight so his arms were suspended over his head. I thought about gagging him, but decided against it. I grabbed the blue shorts and yanked them down. He was wearing a jock underneath. I was still pretty hard and he kept looking down at my cock, wondering when he'd get it. Not for a while yet, kiddo, not for a while.
I pulled off his jock and his long, beautifully shaped cock rose to half mast.
He looked at me like he did something wrong but didn't say a word. Good, good. "Getting hard, are we? Well let's see how hard we can get!" I said. I got a cock ring from the bureau and shoved it on, all the way to around his balls. Then I got this lead plumb and tied it around his balls, so it pulled down. He had no idea this was coming and just stared down at his crotch, then yelped a little in pain as I let it go and he felt the weight. "Now we're gonna get a little punishment, pig," I said, and grabbed my special belt. I've done this enough now so I'm pretty good at it, I know just how hard to hit without breaking the skin or leaving a welt. I raised the belt and slammed it against his back. He jerked with the pain and let out a little gasp. Again. Again. He was wet with sweat by now, his entire body suffused by a gentle glow as the red light reflected from his moistened body. I reached over to the bureau and grabbed a handful of clothespins, and snapped two onto each side of his cock. He writhed with the pain, his long, muscular body arching in agony. "Had enough yet, pretty boy?" I asked sardonically, and then brought the belt across his chest. He recoiled from the shock and sting, leather against wet naked flesh. By this time, watching him, I was so hot and horny that I was ready to take him down and cuddle him like a baby, but this was for his own good.
I grabbed two more ropes from the harness and attached one to each foot. Then a few more yanks and he was suspended horizontally in the air. I got directly behind him, so his butt was against my stomach. "Now you're gonna learn what a real man feels like." I took a finger - didn't have to wet it, the kid was covered in foam - and stuck it up his ass, twisted it around a little. God he was tight up there. I worked it as much as I could, then looked down at my own cock. It was rock hard and lobster red. I thrust it into his ass and pushed all the way in. The kid screamed for the first time then, but that's all he did, one long scream. Then just a kind of gentle sobbing. I started to pump into him, long hard strokes, slow, then fast, harder and harder. I looked down and saw the kid's cock get hard. The plumbweight from his balls swung like a pendulum as I rammed his ass again & again. Finally I pulled out, let down his feet, and loosened the ropes so his arms fell a little. The kid collapsed to his knees as I knew he would. I walked around to his face and started to beat off. It didn't take much, I had stopped just in time. I shot a big wad of hot cum right into the kid's face. He took it all, then licked the cock and wiped it clean.
I told him that's all I wanted to do the first time, and walked him into the shower. I think he was shellshocked or something, he didn't say a word. Later, after he dressed, he just looked me deep in the eyes and said, "Thanks.
You might have saved my life tonight. Nothing in there could be worse than what I've been through already." And he left.
I never saw Chris again, but I heard from him not long after. He kept his date with the judge, but you know what? The judge had keeled over with a bleeding ulcer the week before, and his doctors told him he had to retire or die. So a different judge passed sentence, a younger and more liberal judge, one who didn't think a few ounces of pot was anything to throw a nice young kid into a cage with animals for. And Chris got 2 years probation.
But I'll never forget him.