Walk in Lies Chapter 6

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

House Rules

Mornings at the Laar’s house pass Mica by in the lazy summer months. A younger Mica popped out of bed when his mother rose for work. They would share a relaxed moment together before she left for the hotel where she worked as a maid. A younger Mica would slip free to his room before his father roused to start his day. Free from school, teenage Mica sleeps in while each older Laar in turn makes their solitary way out into the world of work.

Some summer mornings, Mica’s sister Ruth is on hand. Ruth is four years older and desperate to get out on her own. Ruth and Mica do not exchange the feral ruthlessness of the Sykes’ siblings, but there is a shared indifference, a marked lack of enthusiasm for the family faith. Indifference to each other as well. Ruth is virtuous, Martha-industrious about the house and about the world. Mica, not so much. They resent each other for the envious contrasts they offer mother and father.

None of you shall approach any blood relative of his to uncover nakedness. Mica is the tribe of men and he makes Ruth uncomfortable in a way Alea and Vikki could relate. Summer brunch, Mica wanders through the turgid house in his boxer briefs, too tight for decency. He will lean against the counter with his juice and she will avert her eyes from the easy heavy maleness.

Mica wakes up to a phone chime far too early. The phone is in his pants pocket across the room. He should check it. It will be Alea organizing his summer afternoon. I should check, because Alea may have earlier plans. He has an early afternoon date. Alea should send pictures. His picture goes to Tricks. By now, it has probably been passed about the city’s covert shame-pathways.

Mica’s hand goes down his boxer briefs. He can imagine the Deacon in a dim lit bar, corrosive liquor in his glass. He is hunched over with a blurred companion, the Deacon’s phone between them, sharing whispers. Cock sucking, cock-hungry boy, the Deacon chuckles. Maybe the Deacon slides one of Alea Sykes’ damn business cards across the counter to a handsome bartender. Some young man, fit and profane. A hard young man with rolled up sleeves ready to do the devil’s work by dispensing liquor to the weak, or taking a fifteen-year old slut into the back room dispensing spunk. The hard young man fingers Mica’s business card and slips it into his pocket right on top of a cock that would shame the Deacon.

“Ahh, ahhh!” Mica’s voice trembles. He has not had intercourse for days. Not penetration with a cock. “Ahh,” he trembles. He is piss-hard, using the dull ache to remind him of the missing intrusion in his rectum. Tossing off a morning load is automatic to Mica. He should be on his knees accepting the Deacon’s blessing.

He should be between the Lout’s fat knees watching the open palm come up. Waiting for it, waiting for it, anticipating the sharp sting across his cheek. “Ahh, unggg, ahh!” Mica’s constricted voice is a supplication. He is violating his earthly temple, offering prayers to a hypocrite and a nerd. The Lout almost gets it. The measured slaps across his open invitation. The Lout was the smart one. He knew he had the open palm and he saw that Mica was just a whore.

A discrete knock at his bedroom door. “Mica?”

“Yes,” on his knees, back arched away from his hard, demanding prick. Mica’s hand never stops moving.

“Dad told me to remind you that the grass needs to be cut today. I’m leaving now.”

“Okay,” Mica bites his lower lip and pauses to milk the promise-precum onto the tip of his prick.

The Lout is so much smarter than Mica. Mica accepts that like he accepts the Lout’s slap. Worthless whore, Alea spits at him, useless bitch. “Ahhhh!” Mica replies. Whore, bitch, cunt, pussy, Mica is Burley’s-bitch even. Not worthless, not useless, Mica knows that. He is a God-damned (literally, the hell-fire destination-predestined) spunk-eating, ass-fucked whore. That’s not useless!

Alea has a date for him tonight. A new prick or a familiar prick, Alea would not bother to say. Mica is fifteen-year old hard for his hand and the next Trick. “Hmmm,” slow deliberate strokes down his friction-burned flesh, “Hmmm,” he encourages his prick. Mica’s balls ache. Young flesh rebounds so quickly, but they memory-ache from Cain and Alea’s abuse. Abuse and a warm douche delivered by an absurd duct tape dildo. Burley maybe-probably waiting for his bitch.

A finger up his ass, or palm squeezing his scrotum? Mica picks the scrotum. That puts him back in jail. Stretch his balls down to the floor, stretch an extra inch out of his five-inch prick. Start stroking down. Go directly to jail, don’t … Go,

No Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free cards for the Whore-slut, don’t … Go, don’t … Go. Everyone is whispering about the willing Bitch-boy. “Ahhh,” Mica trembles, breathless, back arched, mouth open for a demanding prick. “Ahhh!” don’t … pass Go, just collect spunk! Used business cards passed from hand to hand, pictures shared, Mica shared. The Lout slaps Mica’s face and he curls over his burning prick.

The spunk just piss-burns into Mica’s open palm. He catches it with automatic ease. Satiated for the moment, Mica watches detached as his right hand milks his prick-pipes clean. This one's for him. The next, like his ready rectum are for the others. The puddled spunk lies cupped in his left palm. It is communion for his lips and tongue.

Kneeling by the dresser drawers, Mica stretches his arms up and crosses his wrists above his head. His head goes down to contemplate the limp prick hanging from the vertice of his inverted triangle abdomen. He stretches up, tensing his buttocks, protecting his anus and the treasure that lies within. “What a piece of work is man!” Mica’s hot English teacher used to say.

Mica has been sidelined somewhat by the Sykes’ clumsy skills pimping him. The Lout is a smart boy. As Mica cut the lawn bare foot, bare chested, hair loose, he imagined the brilliant boy could manage things better. The Lout said he could be a Blue Chip Whore. He cuts the grass half hard, welcoming the neighbors to see him.        

A poorly managed week that would make the Lout sneer. Tuesday the Lout used the Bitch-boy whore properly. Wednesday Mica had an older man who pretended to be his father punishing him for breaking curfew. The usual role-play nonsense, it might easily have been played out with his father. The harsh contemptuous followed by a spanking anyway. Mica thinks Henry Laar could not imagine the rest. Mica ejaculated in his “dad’s” hand. The spanking role play ended with Mica offering perfunctory head to a half-hard prick. Not every Trick wants intercourse.

Thursday morning a good friend invited Mica over to game. He asked Mica about the SnapChat advertisement making the rounds. You cannot do that on SnapChat, but of course, you can. “It’s a prank.” Mica deflects. His friend knows he is gay, so maybe he buys the cyber bully angle. He has not seen the message. Ostensibly, Mica has no phone. It is a harmless headshot, phone number, and an invitation. Nothing seems to have transpired from this. The Lout is right, high school Tricks are slim pickings for a teenage whore. Too much free spunk on offer. The boy’s play on his friend’s PS3.

Thursday's date cancels out so Cain works him over in the kitchen for no better reason than Mica made Finn a sandwich. Everyone in the Sykes’ house is on poverty’s hungry edge. Willis Sykes cleaned the children’s cash out before he left for Mexico. It says more than you can imagine that Cain Sykes fears someone. Cain is an incompetent drug dealer in a crowded and well organized market. Nobody in the Sykes’ house wants to tell him to get a real job. They are just relieved that Mica is there to accept the blows.

The sisters know Cain should have controlled his nasty temper. Nobody wants to tell him that either. Cain makes a lousy pimp and a lousy brother.

With Mica hurting, there is more lost revenue, rent and utilities to pay and no money for food. Alea decides Mica needs a few days to allow the welts and bruises fade before his next date. She considers her sister, then bows to the inevitable and walks the street herself for a few nights. It pays the bills and feeds Cain and the sisters.

The Thursday beating gives Mica familiar grief at home. “The beginning of strife is like letting out water, so quit before the quarrel breaks out.” Mica’s mother scolds him. Mica is an average boy, this means he is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.

His father takes another view. As usual, the bruises on Mica’s face just prove he is a scrapper to his father. “It’s the boy’s business. You better learn to fight, boy. You better learn to win.” his father comments shortly. “Now bow your heads in prayer.” Then he was grounded, but Mica knows this punishment has to be ignored. Cain and Alea will expect him when the pimp-phone delivers its next appointment.

The pimp-phone rings Monday morning. Mica jacks his morning load of spunk into his palm and eats himself. He stretches out his supple body, cuts the lawn lawn and lets the sun kiss his body the way every man who comes his way will do. Smelling of cut grass, Mica walks past his friend’s houses to the Sykes’. His body will be given away, his celestial dust offered to a stranger. Mica shivers an awe-filled dread.

Mica hears Burley barking before he knocks on the door. The big dog is expecting attention. “House rules,” Cain decided after that first time in the sister’s room. “Burley gets what Burley wants. You are Burley’s new bitch.” The game’s afoot, as Mica knew it would be.

The giant dog jumps up to place his paws on Mica’s shoulders. Mica can see the excited pink organ poke free. He fondles dog junk with half an eye on Vikki. Vikki tells Burley to be quiet. Cain and Alea are sleeping. This is not good news because Alea will be a mean bitch when Cain finishes with her.

The maturbatory greeting proceeds like a dance. The Great Dane on Burley’s-bitch’s shoulders and the Mica feeling the inhuman shaft. Burley’s clattering nails follow Mica into the kitchen. Burley skitters around him while Mica checks on little Finn. Finn is struggling with a huge bag of dog food. “Do you need a hand with that?”

Finn shakes his head. Mica looks in the empty fridge, while the young boy rips the bag open and cups out dry dog food for Burley. Burley’s long pink organ is distracted by the fresh food and he loses interest in Mica. Finn smiles secretly to himself as he scratches Burley’s ear.

Finn walked his red wagon to the store to pick up the bag of dog food. Demonstrating his lack of good taste, Burley is friendly with everyone. In exchange, Cain has a soft spot for the Great Dane, so Finn was able to get the money out of his older brother. Finn waited till Mica came through the door before he distracted his big friend. Burley usually needs encouragement to fuss with the Bitch-boy.

Vikki slumps in a chair and stares listlessly at NFL football on Fox with the sound on mute. House rules, Cain decided after the Bitch-boy sucked and fucked a dog. “You two bitches see Burley gets what Burley wants.” Mica is everyone’s bitch in the Sykes’ house.

First bites of food, the Great Dane returns to sniff Mica’s bare skin. Totally Sodom and Ghamorah, Mica acknowledges. He thought the Laar’s home life was unfair and Bible-strict. “Submit to God, The Lord will punish you.” In the Sykes’ home, Cain is God, Cain will punish you.

Burley stalks off for a drink of water. Mica can hear the heavy lapping. This is the dog’s time and Mica must let the dog choose when it is over. Burley returns to sniff Mica’s ass. Vikki surfs cable channels slowly. “Jack him off.” Vikki suggests, but Burley only wants a sniff and he is off to lie in a pool of sun.

Finn grabs a handful of dog food and pops a bit in his mouth. It makes Mica sad to see the eleven-year old crunching away. “What?” Finn catches Bitch-boy’s expression. “I’m hungry. Vikki didn’t shop, so there is nothing in the house.”

There was the money for dog food, but Cain expects a receipt and all the change back. Finn has nothing for himself. His friend little Walter will feed him something when he goes to visit. Walter’s mom always feeds Finn something.

Vikki sees Burley has wandered away, so Vikki is supposed to flush Mica out before his early date. Alea says this Trick is special and attention must be paid to details. Vikki is tired of handling details with the Whore-slut. She has friends, sort of, there are things she likes to do.

Vikki handles his adolescent body impatiently. The douche bottle with its fake prick is awkward. To pass the tedious time, Vikki’s fingers tickle Mica’s hard gut and chest. Mica is three years older than her, but he is just a child to her. Despite the threatening man-sized fists planted on the bathroom linoleum, and light male muscle all about his body, there is no danger in Burley’s-bitch. Her gargantuan tattooed father and her bulky brother are Vikki’s measure of a man. This cock-slut is girl-slender, more like little Finn.

Burley’s-bitch just lets her shove the douche up his rectum. He is whipped. Cain beat Bitch-boy into submission before school even ended. Vikki heard it all from the top of the stairs. The faggot reasoned, argued, threatened her brother. The cock-sucking faggot even thought he could hurt Cain with his his fists. Vikki heard it. All that noise between the two males, until finally there was just the sound of Cain’s fists and open palm. Like wet laundry thrown into the drier.

Vikki realized the new high school boy was just a pussy. Almost all of the boys she sees in school are pussies. Vikki thinks Burley’s-bitch was always this way, easy to push around. She is absently stroking Bitch-boy’s prick. His boner strains upward in an urgent curve that she knows she has to leave alone. She has a douche bottle up his rectum, and he bones for her. Such a useless pussy, Vikki realizes. The Whore-slut is not completely useless. Burley’s submissive bitch keeps the sisters off the street. She pulls the douche out with a yank and water dribbles over Bitch-boy’s scrotum. “Don’t make a mess!” She warns the family whore.

The next part takes time, so Vikki goes back to her TV. Finn walks past her on his way out the door. “Where do you think you are off to?”

“Walters.”

“What did Alea tell you?”

Finn slumps. “I have to whore my pussy on the street like Bitch-boy so Burley and I can eat.” He shoves his fists into his pockets.

“You’re not going to be doing that at Walter’s house, are you?”

No, but I’m going to get my first meal in two days, Finn answers silently. “You didn’t tell me I had to stay and I don’t see any Tricks coming to pick me up today, so maybe I don’t have to whore my pussy right now. Maybe I can go play a game over at Walters. Jesus Christ, Vikki!” This is an incautious rant.

Vikki does not like to do it, but it has to be done or this little man-child is going to get out of control. Finn sees her storming down on him and he backs into the wall. She grabs Finn’s crotch and squeezes threateningly. “Drop your pants, and spread them on the wall.” Vikki snarls at her brother.

Finn jerks his pants down and angrily kicks them off his ankles. As he is putting his hands on the wall, he flings another complaint Vikki’s way. “It’s not fair, Vikki. It’s not fair!”

Vikki comes back from the sisters’ room with the wide belt. Finn braces himself for what will follow. Thwack! “What’s not fair, Finn?” Thwack! Across an exposed thigh. “What’s not fair?” Thwack! “Do tell me, Little-bitch brother, I’m all ears. What’s not fair?” Thwack! A tip of leather curls around Finn’s boney hip and catches his prick.

“Ahhh!” Finn jumps and his palms move off the wall. Thwack! The next blow across his sacrum forces his hands back to the wall. “I’m sorry, Vikki!” Thwack! Burns across Finn’s ass cheeks. “I’m sorry!”

“What the fuck is going on out there?” Cain’s voice thunders from their parent’s bedroom.

Vikki and Finn are a conspiratorial tableau by the living room door. Equally frozen in fear. There is no further comment from their older brother. After a collective holding of the breath, Vikki moves up behind Finn. She presses into his hip and reaches around to claw his dangling balls into her palm. The other hand clamps hard across his dry lips.

“What’s not fair little brother? What’s not fair Little-bitch? Hmm?” Each whispered question followed by an increased pressure. Finn’s nonsense answer is muffled by her palm. He dances on his toes. “Being a boy with a cock and balls? Hmm? Is that fair?” Vikki twists the scrotum slightly. Finn’s response is strangled. “You’re eleven months younger than I am, aren’t you?” Twist, stretch, crush.

“Eeeek! Aufff!”

“Eleven fricking months, soon you will be twelve, Little-bitch. Finn the little man. Nothing to do but play your god damned video games, play with the dog, play with your dick.” Vikki releases Finn’s damaged scrotum and clamps onto his prick. “Go to your friend’s house, play with your dick, play with your dick, go to your friends house, eat food, sleep, play with your dick.”

Despite the pain, or because its succession is such a blissful release, Vikki’s angry masturbation is making Finn hard. His boner is like some shameful confirmation of Vikki’s righteous anger.

“Play with your dick while Alea and I get fucked, because the men don’t want your pussy male ass.” Vikki stoops to retrieve the abandoned belt. She rings Finn’s boner with her finger and thumb and catches the retracted balls with her remaining fingers in a claw-like vise. Pressing against Finn’s hip, she aims a short blow to his exposed cheek. Thwack! “So, Little-bitch brother, mama's little bastard, tell your big sister what’s fair.” Thwack!

Vikki moves her hand off Finn’s crotch. It lies on his famished belly where his stiff prick brushes the back of her thin hand. They are both silent. Finn braced against the wall crying. Vikki, dealing with her rage, pressed against Finn’s hip. Thwack! The belt comes down on Finn’s ass and hip. There is no rhythm to the blows. They just fall incidentally on the young boy’s body between long stretches of heavy breathing.

“This is fair, Finn.” Thwack! A final time. “This is fair, you useless son of a bitch. Don’t ever tell me or Alea what you think is fair.” Finn just leans against the wall. “Go find out if Bitch-boy he has shit himself clean. It’s time to get him ready for his date. The pair of you are just a hassle.”

Finn gathers his pants and underwear. He walks to the bathroom with them clutched against his chest. Mica is still sitting on the toilet, resting on his knees. Finn drops his clothes and comes to Burley’s-bitch. The boys look at each other. Finn moves close and Mica wraps a hand around the young boy’s waist. Finn does not hug. He is a Sykes and there is no hugging amongst them. It just feels good to have Bitch-boy run a consoling hand over his burning flesh. Burley’s-bitch is gentle with his bruised body.

Vikki points out his outfit for the afternoon. Mica is in drag for his next date. Everything costs money. Mica earns and earns, and there is always more to pay for. Mica’s only recompense is a cock in his mouth or rectum. He slips on black panties that barely cover his prick and expose the margins of his blonde pubic hair. He has been Fem a number of times, this seems full-on Tranny. Mica will wear Alea’s bra stuffed with water balloons. Alea’s skirt goes over fishnet stockings and a concealing stretched out sweater completes the outfit.

Mica's hair is Samson-long and flows down to his shoulder blades. Most days, Mica brushes it back into a thick ponytail. Vikki plays with the curling iron, working his hair into a pleasing style. She could be a hairdresser, she decides.

Vikki wishes Alea was free to do make-up. Vikki and Mica can hear Alea struggling in the parent's bedroom, so she realizes she has to do the slut’s hair herself. Vikki makes Mica dramatic like she would have done on herself if she was older. Alea has a heavy hand on the makeup when she goes out. Vikki decides to match that look. She finishes with some inexpensive earrings that drag down Mica’s pierced lobes.

Mica is ready and the evening’s Trick is not there. Vikki looks at her creation and knows she is expected to keep the cute slut-boy busy all the time. The dog will leave Mica in disarray. Vikki could play with the slut-boy herself, but his prick will grow excited and “cum is for the customer” Alea scolds. She pulls Finn away from his room and orders him into the sisters’ bedroom. The eleven-year old makes no fuss this time, but one look at Mica sets the boy laughing.

Finn is still laughing. Cain’s whore-slut looks so bad. The curls are unbalanced and makeup makes Burley’s-bitch look like a clown. Vikki is offended. Finn must learn. Finn will never be big like Cain and her father. Finn is “another little queer” like the slut-boy Cain brought from school.

Vikki knows Finn will eventually put on the girl’s old clothes and work for her big brother. Cain has big plans. Cain is going to show their father what kind of man he is. In the Sykes home, you have to show what kind of man you are, or be a pussy like mother, like the girls, like little Finn and Burley’s-bitch.

“Holy cow! Vikki, he looks so stupid.”

Vikki slaps Finn’s face very hard. She worked hard to get the Whore-slut ready for his rich Trick. Both boy’s have no idea how hard the sisters work to keep this house of dysfunctional men together. Fucking ingrates, all of them, Vikki grinds her teath.  She takes a deep breath and calmly yanks Finn’s pants down. Alea would take the time to send Finn to jail. Vikki just spanks Finn. The point was to ready Finn for Mica, but she cannot stop bringing her palm down on the boy. These boys, these men, Vikki just keeps hitting.

Mica watches as Finn's pert cheeks turn bright red again. “Vikki, stop.” He has to say it more than once. “He is ready Vikki. Finn’s ready.”

Finn is sobbing quietly as Mica starts sucking his small balls into his mouth. He knows he is supposed to keep the little boy's prick hard. The foreskin is too tight, it needs stretching over the soft gland with its tiny pursed lips. “Put your finger up his pussy, Mica.” Vikki should not have to suggest that. She will have to remember to tell Alea how bad the boys have been today. She won’t. The cute boy-hustler is sticking his long tongue in Finn’s anus. “Hold your knees, Finn.”

The stretched ass cheeks are red and hot from the most recent paddle. Finn’s prick and scrotum are a matching red with Mica’s lipstick. Now Mica is smearing his heavy lipstick around the open cleft again. Vikki sits down on the bed beside her slut-brother and the boy-hustler.

Vikki watches the boys. The hustler inserts a digit, a twin to Finn’s erect prick. The brown halo of Finn's anus swallows it. There may be an orgasm before too long. Finn is learning to fake them because he never ejaculates. When Mica works on him, Finn shudders convincingly. Finn’s crotch bucks a little. “Don’t stop, bitch-brother.” Vikki whispers dully. “Learn to love it.” The sisters need both boys getting fucked like pussy-bitches or Cain will send Vikki out with Alea next. Vikki is fair game while their father is away. It makes the twelve-year old girl shudder.

When the doorbell rings, Vikki leaves the boys. Mica worries that Vikki will be angry if he stops. He pulls Finn's body close to his mouth. The small prick is so easy to swallow. Finn is making pleasure noises in the back of his throat. Mica understands. The sounds are caught between the building body-ecstasy and a primal fear that Finn thinks he will be punished for stealing pleasure.

“It’s okay, Finn.” Mica pauses. “It’s okay to like it.” Vikki will be back soon and they must be busy.

“You look like a clown, Mica.” Finn giggles.

“Yeah, it is pretty bad.” Mica agrees. Finn’s boner is worth a lick. He rolls the young boy onto his stomach.

“You gonna fuck me?” Finn asks. His buns are squeezed tight. Mica scratches Finn on the flat of his sacrum, then spider walks up to the sharp shoulder blades. “Not till they tell you to, right?” The young boy’s expression is closed to Mica, the eyes steady. “That’s okay, Bitch-boy. I’ll take care of you, you take care of me.” The elfin face unfolds into a searching intensity. This flickers out like a candle in the wind. All that remains is the Sykes’ guarded features.

Mica licks two fingers and slips them into Finn. “Does that hurt?”

“No” Finn considers, “Not really.”

“That’s good.” Mica kisses Finn’s shoulder. His fingers dig deep and then he starts to massage the hard little bump behind Finn’s boyhood. “How about this?” Finn giggles. “That’s good, Finn, that’s good.” Mica kisses Finn’s shoulder again. It’s not the dog anyway. Just a little man, Mica tells himself. “I’m really glad that it doesn’t hurt you.” Mica moves down to kiss the mounds of flesh around his busy fingers.

“It feels okay, Mica.” Finn decides. “You feel okay.”

Vikki comes back to give Mica some last instructions. The Trick's name is Edan. He is looking for a boy who can act like a shy girl. Mica straightens himself and Vikki lards on more lipstick which has been mostly transferred to Finn's groin and anus.

“Stay right where you are, Little-bitch.” Vikki adds for Finn’s benefit.

Finn will not be happy when she gets back. He was not a good boy. Vikki decides she will take him to jail. Vikki might sit on his face first and squeeze his scrotum like she did with Mica. Finn can scream into her vagina till she cums all over his face. Then she will whip him for being a boy. Finn will be sorry he laughed at her.

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