This is a new story about the exploits of AJ and Robbie, two friends from a rough section of Philadelphia that began as the ten-part series "My Pimp Miguel" on Nifty. That series appeared under Bi Sexual, Authoritative.
AJ and Robbie were straight guys when they started dancing in a gay club for a guy named Miguel, who was a straight pimp. Gradually they both started escorting for Miguel, and began a long slow slide into degradation at the hands of Miguel, because they needed the money, and because Miguel was such a convincing, demanding, charismatic and overwhelming presence in their lives.
When the previous series ended, AJ, terrified that he was going to be replaced as Miguel's number one boy, and potentially denied the privileges of Miguel's insatiable sexual needs, joined with Robbie, to trick and restrain Miguel, humiliating him with his own torments. The boys left Miguel bound and gagged, pissed on, and branded with the word "Faggot" written on his forehead in magic marker.
They appropriated Miguel's ride and were headed to Florida for a new life, ostensibly as escorts. As they drove, Robbie repeatedly slipped his hands in AJ's cargo shorts and gave him a hand job or bj as they drove. AJ was a little uncomfortable, but it felt good. He thought allot on the trip about the need to find a new pimp in Florida, who would find him work.
I welcome your comments as this series begins and continues, including plot ideas, at justinnewjersey@yahoo.com. Peace, Justin.
You gotta understand that even though I'm 18, I'd never been to Florida. I'd never even seen palm trees. It was fuckin hot, but Miguel's ride was tight, and we had the air and the tunes blasting.
I'd been down the shore, but this was way different, and when we got to Lauderdale I could see it was much bigger and busier than Wildwood. We drove straight down, using a little of the money we stole from Miguel, to eat, party, and buy some weed. I knew the two thousand, which we'd split, wouldn't last forever.
We got a room together near the beach. It wasn't much, just a big bed, a couch and TV, and a small kitchen and bath. It cost $400 a week! It was near some gay stuff, bars I guess. I could tell by the rainbow flags and shit.
It was weird riding down. Robbie kept reaching into my shorts and giving me hand jobs every couple hours. Once or twice he gave me a blowjob. When I'd get high, I'd jerk him off too. He kept wanting to kiss me. He'd gone totally queer, and told me he was in love with me.
Enough was enough. After we first got there, we both crashed for like twelve hours. He blew me and we fell asleep. But when I woke up, showered and ate, I was like, I need some real pussy. It had been awhile, and even though I'd been escorting for Miguel, I hadn't lost my love for cunt. Robbie could give good head, but I wanted to play with some tits!
Robbie drove the car to Miami, called the police to say that someone was tied up back at Miguel's address in Philadelphia- the bastard must have been pretty hungry after being tied up for a day and a half-, and took a bus back to Lauderdale. Then he went and got us new cells. When he got back to the room, I was busting a nut in this girl I met at a coffee shop. And he acted all pissed off.
"What the fuck is this shit, dude?" he hollered at me.
"Dude, get the fuck out and give us some privacy" I said. The girl started to laugh.
"Man, I can't believe you went right out and got some pussy. What happened to telling me what a good cock sucker I am, all the way down here?" he screamed.
I threw a sneaker at him, and said, "Give us an hour asshole. Now get out."
Robbie left, slamming the door. "What's that about him giving you a blow job?" the girl asked me, as I sucked her tit. I couldn't remember her name.
"He's a faggot," I said. On the way down I just found out, after all these years", I lied, "and when I was wasted he took advantage of me, like queers do, and put the moves on me."
"But he said that you said he was a good cock sucker" the girl stammered.
`Well, he was actually pretty good, but then I ain't seen what you can do yet" I smiled, and shoved her face onto my cock.
Later that evening, Robbie still hadn't come back, and the girl had to go home to her rents. I went out, thinking I could use a few beers. Some queers started to talk to me while I sat smoking on a bench, and they said they could get me served at a gay bar around the corner.
Four hours later, it's closing time. I successfully fought them off- they wanted me to come home for a threesome, telling me how much they liked teenaged boys with long blond hair. But when I asked for money, they got all angry and shit, and pointed out that they'd bought me fifty bucks of beer and Jack, and given me money to play pool all night.
"Look cocksucker" I said to one of them, remembering how they kept touching my ass and stroking my chest all night long, "Thanks for the beer, but no money, no sex. And besides, I played pool all night because I kept winning, beating your faggot ass most of the time!" What assholes.
I calmed down, sparked a Marlboro, and sat down to gather my thoughts. It was 2:30 in the morning and I was wasted, and trying to remember which way our room was. I hoped that shit for brains Robbie was out blowing some old man in an alley, and I'd have the bed for myself. He must want some crack by now for sure.
Visions of Miguel, tied up and cum running down his face, made me start laughing. The prick. After all I did for him. Keeping the place clean, making him food, earning money for him with nasty faggots. And I wasn't proud of it, but when he started to demand that I blow him, fuck if I didn't. He'd made me his number one escort, and then, just like that, after all the effort, after all the times I sucked him off, he was gonna replace me.
"How'd that work out for you Miguel, you prick?" I muttered, nearly crying. Man I was drunk.
"Wa the fuck you talking to?" said this brother who was suddenly standing next to me. "White boy, you be sitting in my block. Best you move on else I fuck you up."
This guy was tall, about like Miguel. And I'm just five-nine and thin. He had a nasty looking snarl on his face. He stood there shirtless, with heavy gold chains around his neck. He had lots of tattoos on his arms and chest. They looked like jailhouse shit to me.
He had a shaved head, and his jeans were hanging real low. His boxers were white and stuck out of his jeans about eight inches. His chest and arms just glistened with sweat. It was a hot and humid night. I just stared at him, speechless. What had he said?
He took his hands off his hips and shoved me hard, off the stairs I was sitting on. "Said this block mine. Less you wan me peddlin you skinny white ass, faggot, keep movin."
I jumped up quick. Seemed I had lost my shirt somewhere in the bar. I pulled up my baggy jeans, which had fallen down and were below my ass. I grabbed a quick look at him, but moved off just as quick.
It was weird; I had a raging boner just being near that dude. He reminded me of Miguel, but maybe more dangerous. Anyway, I was too drunk to mix it up with him. If he decided to fuck me, to break me in the way Miguel had that first time, he would have ripped my guts out. I could see he had a hard on pressing out from his baggy jeans, probably from being angry, that musta been ten inches.
I got my ass home real quick. Robbie was in bed, naked, on his back. He had a hard on himself. I got out of my jeans and sneaks and said "Dude, wake up. I'm all horned up. Need some relief."
Robbie woke up in a hurry, pushed me on my back on the bed, and pulled my junk out of the fly in my boxers. He proceeded to give me a better blowjob than that girl had earlier. It didn't take long before I shot my babies down his throat.
When he was done, Robbie whispered, "Go head, smack me. I know I deserve it. I'm just a shithead faggot. Miguel always did like you better. Guess you're gonna start beating on me like he used to do."
I did smack him, hard across the face, and he fell over on the floor. I rolled over and went to sleep, and he curled up on the floor, like a dog.
NEXT TIME: Putting Robbie to work