Walk in Lies

By Eliot Moore

Published on Feb 16, 2022

Gay

Walk in Lies Chapter 3

Sometimes I wallow in the mire and root for garbage. This story might be that.  The following story is for adults and contains graphic descriptions of sexual contact between tweens,  adolescents and adult males. There is, of course, a power imbalance in these varied relationships, and considerations of consent are blurred.

If you are a minor, then it is illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and settings are the product of my overactive imagination. I hope you find it cathartic. Feel free to respond.

If you would like to comment, contact me at eliot.moore.writer@gmail.com.

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(First Edition Posted May, 2007)

Walk in Lies

Just Be Quiet

Mica doesn’t remember the man’s name and begins to think of him as the Deacon. “So,” the Deacon begins, “He is going to walk out to my car dressed like that?”

Alea is put out. The new top and spandex shorts cost money the Sykes children don’t have. She glares at Mica, deciding this is his fault.

“I can change.” Mica blurts out. Immediately, he knew this was a mistake. Alea feels male criticism surrounding her. Mica drops his eyes to the cement floor with obsequious subservience. It might not deflect Alea’s wrath, but it is the best thing he can do.

“If I wanted to be seen with him, I would simply drive down to the strip and grab someone. Just move those boxes and I will back my car into the garage here.”

Mica begins clearing the refuse from the middle of the garage. The Deacon simply watches him work. It seems the natural movements of bending over, twisting and lifting in the tight spandex and fishnet amuse the man. Alea’s choice of clothing leaves Mica’s adolescent this and that exposed like naked skin. The constricting fabric and the Deacon’s steady stare make Mica’s prick grow. The man sees this. Before long, Mica is working with a boner that stretches along one thigh crease.

The man’s car is backed into the garage, and he tells Mica to lie down on the back bench. This happens on occasion. Some men don’t want to be connected with the underage kid they crave. “You have a pretty cock, Mica. Lie there and think about what I am going to do with it when we get to my house. Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire, Mica.”

It is a long dark drive full of speculation. Cain seems to be tapped into a dark network he has shared with his sister. The men he dates are spread across the city. He has been fucked in offices, apartments, rooftops, and abandoned storefronts. One man had a molester van and they chance it in a parking lot. One man wanted Mica’s hard prick to punish his soft ass. Everyone else wants a deep rectum to fuck.

The Deacon is not particularly fit. Most tricks are not. Mica daydreams of athletic types man-handing him the way he can handle little Finn. Cain without the pain, Mica decides. The Deacon may surprise him. Three weeks have taught Mica that looks can be deceiving. Some of his best times have been with men he would not offer a second look.

The drive ends in another garage. The man seems gentle so Mica loses some of his fear. the Deacon takes him into the living room and pours two large glasses of amber liquor. Mica doesn’t know what he is drinking, but the man encourages him to finish a couple of short drinks while Mica perches on his lap.

Mica is fifteen and not some small child. Sitting on the Deacon’s lap is awkward. He sits with one foot on the floor, thighs parted, because he is Cain’s whore-slut, not a shy virgin. The Deacon runs a hand up Mica’s back. He is being touched, he will be used. He just has to sit here, let the harsh liquor numb his throat, wait to be told what will be done to him.

The man pets and kisses Mica between sips of his drink. Their lips are close enough to kiss. Mica tilts his head invitingly. No kissing, Mica concludes. The Deacon doesn’t seem to care whether the boy contributes to the monologue he conducts as he slowly removes pieces of Mica’s clothing. The spandex and underwear roll off Mica’s legs. “Your nakedness shall be uncovered, and your disgrace shall be seen.” When Mica is naked he massages Mica’s erect prick. “I made you flourish like a plant of the field. And you grew up and became tall and arrived at full adornment.”

The Deacon pinched Mica’s nipple traced a finger from the boy’s armpit to to the defined groove between his pecs. The man nips Mica’s earlobe. “Your breasts were formed, and your hair had grown,” There Is a tug on Mica’s pubic hair. “You were naked and bare.” Fingers reach between Mica’s thighs to caress behind his scrotum. “When I passed by you again and saw you, behold, you were at the age for love.”

The fishnet top finally comes off. Mica stands between the man’s legs. His torso is chiseled by the poverty of his parent’s table. The Laar’s fat goes to the likes of Ted Haggard and Bob Coy. Mica needs this man to count every muscle from the V-line root of his hard prick to the hollow below his Adam’s Apple. Mica needs his ass squeezed.

When the Deacon has finished his drink he makes Mica masturbate himself while kneeling on the floor. The man slowly takes his own clothes off. The clothes are just flung across the room to a chair. He is older than Mica’s father, but he is in far better shape. Mica cups the scrotum Vikki clawed. He remembers the mindful pain of her sharp nails. His finger traces the seam along his perineum down to his clenched anus.

His circled fingers become a cock-ring constricting his groin like Alea’s rope when she tells him to go to jail at the foot of the sister’s bed. Do not pass Go, do not collect one hundred dollars. No Get out of Jail Free cards with vindictive Alea, just a promise of hard time. Mica is naked and hard, waiting on his knees for what will be done to him.

“Slaves, in reverent fear of God submit yourselves to your masters,” The Deacon reminds the hard prick oozing desire on the carpet. Mica nods.

“And, not only to those who are good and considerate, but also to those who are harsh.” Mica reminds the Deacon of the close of the verse. His prick jumps at the word harsh. The Sykes children know harsh, they simply don’t know how to use it.

When the church Deacon is naked, he approaches Mica and offers his prick. “Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders.” It is already partially erect and Mica finds it grows larger than any prick he has seen. The man strokes Mica’s long Samson hair as the boy grasps the heavy shaft in one hand and takes the large circumcised corona into his mouth.

The man’s boner is too large. Mica lets it sink in until the glans is on his soft palate. It will go right down his throat if he allows it. It sits there while Mica tries to use his tongue. He bites a bit, just to tease the Deacon. He pinches the prick before he slides off of it. He only swallowed five inches.

Mica remembers to say things like, “Oh gosh, I want you. Your cock is so big. It is going to stretch my ass.”

“Just be quiet.”  

There is more than one way to attack a prick. Mica wants the organ stirring his rectum, finishing the anal orgasm Alea started in the bathroom. He gnaws on the shaft and sucks the man’s scrotum. The frenulum is sensitive, Mica chews on it and sucks the broad head. the Deacon is not touching him. The man is content to let a boy worship his strength.

“All who are under the yoke of slavery should consider their masters worthy of full respect,” The Deacon tugs Mica’s scalp. It is the first hint that there could be iron beneath the velvet. Mica nods and shows his respect for the long eight inches of circumcised prick. He needs to know if he can take this shaft up his rectum. There might be a whimper amidst the unconscious humming on the man-flute.

After a while they move silently to the Deacon's room. The Deacon lies beside Mica. There are exploratory licks and nuzzles about Mica’s entire body. So many men are fascinated by his tight body. The Deacon finally settles on Mica's erect member and consumes Mica in his turn. It ends with a leisurely-lazy orgasm.

It is intense enough, but the gentleness disappoints Mica. He is here to be used. Fifteen-year old’s fuck animal hard. Scripture quoting Boomers are too tame. This is the wrong kink for Mica. This is Henry Laar’s kink without the sexual release. Mica is groaning towards something different, but the Deacon and naked teenager agree on one thing: Mica is Cain’s whore-slut slave for the long hot, spunk-sticky summer.

The Deacon gently flips him over and begins working on his back. Mica reaches up to grasp the old fashioned bedstead as the Deacon attacks his back and shoulders before working his way down past Mica’s ass to tickle his legs with his tongue.

Mica imagines himself bound to the man’s bed. Alea’s packing straps ratcheting his limbs into a helpless cross, his unwilling flesh vulnerable to every touch and penetration. It is time for the eight inches to violate him. No pussy-virgin school desk daydream prepared Mica for the last three weeks orgy. Penetrated half the week and sweating on his bedroom sheets the other half remembering. Hating Cain and Alea for what they have beat him into being this slut for men addicted to young flesh. The Deacon is using him and Mica’s parted lips are curled into a grateful smile.

Then the Deacon moves back to his ass and begins probing his sphincter with his tongue. The Deacon is Mica, and Mica is a helpless little Finn. “Make sure the Trick is happy,” Alea warns Mica. Mica knows how to sound like the analus is giving him an orgasm again. “Oh, arg, oh baby, yeah, that’s so good!”

“Just be quiet.”

As the Deacon's tongue darts in, Mica instinctively lifts his ass to part his cheeks. The Deacon looks at the cleft with its puckered opening. He resumes dining out on Mica. It makes Mica hard again. If being a whore-slut fulfils this adolescent fantasy, then Mica will whore with men like the Deacon. Sins of the flesh substantiated.

Finally the Deacon covers Mica with a luxuriously slow penetration. “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.” The erection is the longest Mica has ever seen, the penetration is deep. “Your ass is fit for me, little helper. I can feel you clench tight on my cock. Shall I call you that from now on? Little helper? I’ll call you that in church. Right in front of your parents. How does that sound?”

Some men feel the pain of intrusion, most men don’t. It seems to be life’s toss which way you are. Mica is one who feels no pain. He is fit for this. His soft moist anus and the long depths of his muscular colon are fit for this. Male pubic hair brushes Mica’s cleft, but he does not sense it. Everything is focussed on the stretched flesh licking the Deacon’s wide inches. Mica keens a little as his body submits.

Mica’s ass is slick with saliva. He imagines his rectum is a salivating mouth. His cavity is all tongue exploring each new man’s prick. Mica’s anus sucks the milkshake straw of the Deacon’s long prick. He moves with a rhythm that works to draw the fucking out to the extent of the Deacon's middle age limits.

The Deacon delves deeply into Mica's rectum until he finally spends the accumulated passion of the evening in one hot condom-covered rush. Too gentle, Mica thinks. The clumsiness of most middle age Tricks almost suits Mica better. They fuck mindless like teenagers. Mica’s ass needs the callous thrusts of Alea’s torture-tape dildo. Rape is all Mica deserves now. The Deacon nuzzles Mica's neck until his satisfied member has withdrawn from the sticky lips of Mica's crack. He leaves the teen unsatisfied.

“So …” Mica begins, stretching his body on the bed.

“Be quiet,” the Deacon reminds Mica. “I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.” The church Deacon fingers Mica’s prick and cups his tender scrotum. “May your balls be like clusters of grapes on the vine, the fragrance of your cock like apples, and your cum like the best wine.”

The man’s hand slid up the concavity of Mica’s belly and up to his chest. He pinched a rouged nipple. “A loving doe, a graceful deer— may his breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with his love.” the Deacon snaps at a small nipple repeatedly.

The Deacon straddles Mica’s face and his plump prick dangled at Mica’s parted lips. “Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.” He lets his soft prick sink down to the back of Mica’s mouth. Mica noses the tangled pubic hair while his mouth is filled with man who just filled his rectum.

“Umf,” Mica replies. the Deacon is not hard, the prick rests expanded in his mouth. The man fucks Mica’s mouth with his soft prick. His hips rise and fall gently. One hand cups the back of Mica’s head so the teen’s lips stay tight against his root.

The twined pair twist on the bed so Mica is on top. He suckles on the Deacon’s limp prick while his groin drags toward the man’s face. “Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love.” Mica’s prick goes into the Bible quoting man’s mouth. The middle aged man has not recovered, but teenage fruit is ready to be tasted again.

The man keeps Mica longer than he is supposed to, and it is very late when he finally returns Mica to the Sykes’ house. When Mica crawls out from the floor of the back seat, he stands naked in the garage, while the Deacon completes the transaction with Alea. Mica sways as his body reacts to the unaccustomed liquor and the satisfaction of being used for hours. Nakedness just feels natural.

Finn makes an unexpected appearance with the huge dog. Mica stares at him through unfocused eyes. Finn has a fresh bruise on his cheek. The Deacon slips his wallet back into his pocket. “Next week?” His eyes are on Finn.

Alea wants the Trick gone before her parents notice this transaction. However, business is business. She checks her phone calendar impatiently. “What day?”

The amatureness of the Sykes’ operation amuses the Deacon. The teenage girl hands out business cards and does not understand the SkipTheDishes necessity of offering home delivery. Mica is delightful, the child by the dog is likely enough. “Saturday; is the boy available?”

“Mica will be ready for you.”

“No, I mean this little one.” The Deacon points to Finn, who suddenly realizes his curiosity about Mica was a bad idea. Alea turns her attention to him.

“Okay, yeah, whatever, if that’s what you want.” Alea fails to negotiate this smoothly. Finn is a little bitch, essentially pointless in her mind. He feeds Cain’s pointless dog and not much else.

“Not for me,” The Deacon replies with a shake of his head. “Can I have a picture to share with a friend who might be interested?”

Alea considers this. “Twenty dollars,” She decides. “Forty if he is naked.”

The young boy looks nothing like the brash teenager pimping Mica. The whole Sykes’ house is macabre. “Forty, it is.” The Deacon smiles at Finn. “Go stand beside Mica.” The Great Dane joins the picture, blocking the small boy’s groin. Mica and Finn make a matched pair of sorts. The young boy has the world-weary gaze of a refugee and the teenager is fucked-up drunk. The Deacon could sell this shot to a photo gallery, it is that interesting. “Thank you.” He smiles politely. Finn and the dog escape.

The Deacon whispers in Mica’s ear before he leaves. “My beloved thrust his hand through the latch-opening;” Mica feels fingers dig into his loose anus,  “My heart began to pound for him.” The man goosed him in front of Alea. Then he pulls his finger out and draws it across Mica’s upper lip. “I arose to open for my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the bolt.”

Mica offers an addled smile. He was well and truly fucked tonight. “I’ll see you in Chapel Mica Laar.” the Deacon turns to Alea. “We’ll talk about a different arrangement for the pick up and what I expect him to wear. Cute outfit, but I won’t need the accessories.”


There is the problem of Willis Sykes. Alea’s parents are back unexpectedly from their latest trip. They are busy ransacking the house for their next extended disappearance.  Alea can't leave Mica naked on the floor of the garage. The money Cain and Alea make from selling Mica is a secret. Willis Sykes takes everything of value he can find. The     sisters live in fear that he will sell one of them permanently for the cash.

“You useless slut!” Alea scolds, “fucking the night away and coming back here stinking drunk. Oh my God, you useless piece of shit.” Slap!  Her yelling, and the loud slap across Mica’s face frightens Alea. Her father is probably in the bedroom with Vikki still, but yelling her frustration is a bad mistake. “Useless cunt!” Alea whispers in Mica’s face.

Since their father is home, Cain chooses to stay away. That is a good thing anyway. This boy-hustler slut found passed out on the garage floor where their parents will stumble on him would be her fault somehow. She leads Mica out to the abandoned camper in the backyard.  She leaves Mica curled in a ball on the floor while she gets the burner phone Mica should have with him.

Alea gives it half an hour and then she shakes Mica awake. When she has his attention she tells him he must phone home and tell his parents he is sleeping over at a friend’s house. With her fingernails clawing his balls, Mica executes a reasonable performance. He is drifting off again when she ties him up and gags him for the night. She returns late at night with a blanket and cream for his well-used ass. Her father is in the sister’s bed with Vikki, so Alea decides the blanket is for her and the fucking whore-slut does not deserve the cream.

Alea can smell the sex on the boy’s bound body. It mixes with the smoky fumes of some expensive liquor. She slumps on the bench watching Mica snore piggishly. After a while, she adds more ropes to make the bitch boy less comfortable. He ends up hog-tied on the filthy cracked linoleum. From where she sits, she can see his limp prick and heavy scrotum thrust away from the narrow hips. Alea wants to kick it. She wants to make the Whore-slut scream through his gag. Filthy drunken pig, Alea thinks coldly. She wants Mica to scream for her.

Brief, Anonymous Survey:

Readers are often too busy or reluctant to reach out to authors. I appreciate hearing from you all. Please take my Walk in Lies Survey. It is a quick Google Form.

I have written a variety of short stories and novellas. You can follow this safe link to my Body of Work.

Next: Chapter 4


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