Author: John Smutt


Title: Little Joey Goes Down the List Chapters 1-3


Summary: 11-year-old Joey wants to meet naughty men for sex.
Luckily, the government keeps a list of naughty boy-fucking
men online. But the men he meets have a darker side than he had
imagined.


Keywords: Mb, anal, oral


E-mail comments to johnsmuttxxx@gmail.com



Prologue

The young boy stood at the sidewalk, flicking the edge of the
folder in his hand. It was time. The only thing left to do was
walk up the driveway. A giant centipede of nervousness was
crawling in his stomach. A passing school bus reminded Joey that
he needed to get this done and leave for home before dinner.

The man who answered the doorbell was tall, with three days of
stubble and short, unkempt, salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were
sky blue. Under his plaid work shirt, he had strong shoulders and
a wide chest with a hint of pot belly. His hands were
surprisingly delicate looking.

"Good afternoon, sir, my name is Joey Ma-"

"Whatever you're selling, kid, I ain't buying. You've got to get
out of here."

"If you'd give me just-"

"I said 'scram', kid. I could get into a lot of trouble talking
to you."

"Sir, this isn't-"

The door slammed in Joey's face. He stood, stunned, for a minute
then walked home. He had imagined the man would be glad to talk
to him.

His friend and neighbor, Henry, was waiting for him. Henry was
eleven, like Joey, but a little shorter.

"How'd it go?" Henry asked.

"Not good. He refused to talk to me."

"But didn't you explain?" asked Henry.

"He didn't let me get that far."

"So what're you gonna do?"

"I don't know."


Chapter 1

It was two weeks later. Joey was in Mrs. Langstrom's back yard.
The old lady hardly ever stepped out of her house, so he felt
safe using it to spy on the man through the spaces in the tall
wooden fence. He had been observing the man, hoping for some kind
of clue as to how he could approach him again.

At the moment the man was lying under a tree in his backyard,
reading a book. It was hard for Joey to see him clearly, but he
kept looking. The man's yard was neat and full of flower bushes.
He even had a small gazebo that he was renovating himself.

The man got up. He was walking over to the fence! Joey kept very
still. The man did not speak, but simply dropped a folded piece
of yellow paper. Then the man walked straight into the house.

In rushed-looking handwriting, the note said, 'Come inside. NOW.'


Joey looked at the back door. It was hanging open. No sign of the
man.

The gate in the fence opened easily, like it had been well oiled.
This was Joey's last chance to turn back.

The door stayed open, the sound of a baseball game drifting out.

Holding his book bag tight, Joey walked into the man's kitchen.
It was neat, like the rest of the house. The man was sitting at
the dinner table. "Close the door," said the man. "I don't want
anyone to see you."

Joey quickly obeyed.

"Sit," said the man.

Joey sat.

"Now, tell me who sent you to spy on me."

"I wasn't spying, Doctor Parish. I only wanted-"

"You *were* spying, Joey. And I'm not a doctor. Not anymore."

Joey sat in silence trying to imagine how much the man knew about
him.

Parish's eyes were intense as he leaned closer. "Yes, Joey, I
know who you are. I know who your parents are. I know where you
live on Benton Street. I know that you just turned eleven a few
weeks ago. What I don't know is why you're making trouble for
me." The man gripped Joey's hands in his. "Who sent you and what
do they want?"

"Nobody sent me."

"Then what is this about?"

Mr. Parish let Joey take his right hand back. The boy lifted his
folder out of his bag and slid it across the table. Still holding
Joey's other hand in his strong grip, Mr. Parish opened the
folder suspiciously.

Joey knew what Mr. Parish was seeing: The first sheet was a
webpage printout. Across the top was the title, 'Hiscock County
Sexual Offenders Database'. Below that was Mr. Parish's picture,
his face looking tired and stressed as he stood before a white
wall with vertical lines that gave his height as 6'2". His full
name was listed on the left - Bartholemew Aaron Parish. And the
crime was listed under that: 'Lewd and lascivious conduct with a
minor. Coercion by authority.' Two bold-lettered sentences sat in
the middle of the page - 'Victim was 10 at the time of the
offence,' and 'Offender was 34 at the time of the offence.'

Mr. Parish's breathing seemed to have stopped as Joey watched him
read. The man slowly turned the page. It was another printout,
this time a news article telling that Dr. Bart Parish, a reknown
heart surgeon, was being stripped of his license to practice
medicine because he had molested a 10-year-old boy in his care.

The third page was a copy of a small article in the local print
newspaper from a year earlier which mentioned that Bart Parish,
age 41, was being released on early parole and was required to
register as a sex offender and stay away from children.

Mr. Parish closed the folder slowly. He gripped Joey's hand
painfully and said, "So what is this? You want to blackmail me?"

"No. I only thought-"

"Because I'm one hundred percent legal. I'm not living too close
to any playgrounds or schools. I don't put out Halloween candy. I
even told my parole officer when you came around to visit me the
first time, even though all you did was knock on my door."

"I'm not trying to blackmail you. It's-"

"Well, then what is it? What is your obsession with me?"

Joey bit his lip and then looked at the tabletop as he spoke,
unable to keep contact with Mr. Parish's intense blue eyes.
"I...I was thinking maybe...a date?" Joey grimaced at how stupid
he probably sounded.

"Are you crazy?" shouted Mr. Parish.

"I...I'm sorry," said Joey. "I just-"

"Do you have any idea the Hell my life is right now? I can't be a
surgeon anymore! I have to pee in a cup every month. If anyone
knows I'm talking to you, I'll get sent straight to fucking jail
for ten more years. Just so you can play stupid fucking games?"

Joey made himself as small as possible in his seat as the big man
raged. He had no idea how to calm him.

"Listen to me," said Mr. Parish. "You get out of here and never
come back. Go!"

When Joey reached the kitchen door, he turned to ask for his
folder, but Mr.Parish yelled, "Leave!" and slammed his fist into
the top of the table. Joey bolted.

......

At home, Joey and Henry sat glumly, thinking about the disaster
of contacting Mr. Parish.

"So that's it?" asked Henry.

"That's it." Joey closed the browser window on his computer,
which was showing the home page of the offenders database. "It
was stupid to think this would work."

"Yeah. And dangerous. I'm glad you're done with this."

......

Joey left the ticket booth and walked to his movie. He was
nervous. If not for his curiosity, he would not be here.

At the theater door, Joey double checked the note in his pocket.
It was typewritten and said simply, "Royal Cinemas 24. 1:30pm,
Saturday. Screen 9. Back row." The note had been taped to his
bike when he got out of school the day before.

This was screen nine. The movie was a subtitled French import,
"Les Freres Heureux," and none of the kids from school that he'd
seen in the lobby would be setting foot in it.

Very few people would, it seemed. Only five seats were taken in
the theater. Joey waited in the back until the lights dimmed. As
the previews ran, Joey thought about the computer at home.  It
was a week since he had told Henry he was done with the list, but
last night he had started browsing the entries again. It was like
an itch. Time after time, Joey had been astonished at how thick
the map was with little arrows showing how many men in his
neighborhood were into children. He cut off his musings as the
movie started.

About fifteen minutes in, a lone figure entered the theater
holding a large  drink and a tub of popcorn. He let his eyes
adjust for a few moments and then  walked right to Joey, sitting
in the next seat.

"Hello, Joey."

It was Mr. Parish.

"Um, hi."

"Enjoying the movie?"

"Not really," said Joey. "It's kind of boring. All they do is
make fun of people."

"But that's what lots of comedy is about. Take those Pie movies,
for instance."

"I'm not allowed to watch R-rated movies."

Mr. Parish talked with Joey quietly through the movie. He pointed
out things the translator missed in the subtitles and explained
cultural details in the movie that made it more interesting. Joey
asked questions when he was puzzled, but mostly kept quiet,
overwhelmed by the large, masculine presence of Mr. Parish. They
shared the popcorn, their hands bumping on occasion and used the
same straw to take sips of the soda.

The whole thing was strange and nerve-wracking for Joey. In the
back of his mind, he knew that they needed to talk about the sex
thing. Why else would Mr. Parish call him here? Joey could not
stand the suspense.

When the credits started to roll, Mr Parish's heavy hand rested
on the back of Joey's neck. Even if he had wanted to get up, Joey
doubted he could have.

"So, little Joey, was that enough of a date for you?"

Joey's eyes flickered to the exit as the last of the audience
left the theater. Now he was alone with an actual child molester.


"It was cool talking to you and all."

Mr. Parish's hand was massaging his neck, sending shivers down
Joey's spine.

"And sitting alone in the dark with a man?"

"That was cool too."

"How did it make you feel?"

Joey swallowed. How could he explain something he wasn't sure he
understood himself?

"Good," Joey said. He sensed disappointment from Mr. Parish at
his vague answer and immediately tried to please the man by
giving him more. "I felt special. Like I was the only kid in my
whole school who had a man friend treating him this way. Like I
was important to you."

Mr. Parish became more serious. "I looked at that folder you left
behind, Joey. There were pages on six more men in there. All on
the offenders list."

Joey stayed quiet, almost hypnotized by the feeling of Mr.
Parish's fingers on him. The man had nimble fingers for sure, but
they were also callused and rough.

"Tell me Joey, are you to be visiting these men next?"

"I...I was thinking about it."

"And you were going to offer yourself to them too?"

"Yes," admitted Joey, looking at the floor.

"For sex? Not just a chance for you to flirt and tease?"

"Well, I wasn't sure what would happen. I mostly was just curious
and thought that you- or one of the other guys- would show me
stuff."

Mr. Parish's other hand stroked along Joey's knee. Joey squirmed
in his seat. The big man spoke almost to himself, "So if I don't
take on the job of being your guide, you're going to go find one
anyway?"

"Probably."

"And why did you pick me?"

"What?"

"Why was I the first on the list?"

"Your house was pretty close-"

The man's hand gripped the tender spot above his knee. "You have
to be honest with me, little Joey. This isn't going to work
unless you tell me everything."

"I...I liked your eyes. In your photos. I-" Joey forced himself
to think hard, knowing that Mr. Parish would not be satisfied
with some fuzzy answer. He wanted so much to please the man. "You
eyes were so bright and blue. And it made you seem so smart
and...virile? Is that the right word?"

"Maybe." said Mr. Parish, a smile forming on his face.

"I got this sense from your photo...from your eyes...that you
would be strong and interesting."

"You're pretty interesting yourself," said Mr. Parish, his face
coming closer to Joey's. "I think I'll have to give serious
consideration to you." Joey gasped when the man's tongue licked
along the rim of his ear as the firm hand kept him in place.

Joey closed his eyes and waited, but the man pulled back. Joey
looked over at Mr. Parish. His eyes were practically burning blue
as he looked down on Joey. "I'll be in touch, little Joey."

Then he walked out, leaving the boy slumped in his seat with a
rock hard dick.

......

Joey found another typed note on his bike on Monday. It said,
"Mrs. Langstrom needs some garden work done. Tuesday, 4pm. Tell
your parents."

The next day, the boy walked up the house's driveway nervously.
What was he supposed to say? Mr. Parish's pickup truck was not in
his driveway next door. When would he get here? Joey's night had
been full of speculation and masturbation. He knew that today was
the day when something (he wasn't sure what, but something) was
going to happen. He had watched videos and read stories on the
net. Now it was for real.

"Hi there," said Mrs. Langstrom when she answered the doorbell.
She had grey streaks in her hair and stood to favor one hip. Her
smile was warm. She asked, "Joey, right?"

"Right, ma'am."

"Bart said you'd be good for my weed problem. I can't afford to
pay you a lot, but he says you like to help out."

Clearly, he was supposed to say yes. "I do like to help out."

"Good. I've got some tools at the side of the house. Let me get
them."

Joey worked for an hour on the patch he was given. He kept
looking down the street for Mr. Parish, but the man never showed.
Sweaty and grimy, Joey reported to Mrs. Langstrom when he was
done. "See you on Thursday," she said as he rode away with five
dollars in his pocket.

On Wednesday, there was another note taped to his bike.
"Thursday, 4pm. Mrs. Langstrom."

On Thursday, Joey worked another hard hour for the old lady, this
time in the back. He could see into Mr. Parish's empty yard. No
one was home. It had to be Mr. Parish sending the notes, so where
was he? The sun was hot and Joey was stripped to his jeans by the
end, sweat on his bare chest. He wished Mr. Parish could come
home and see him like that. He was sure he would look sexy to a
child molester: his dark blond hair mussed up, his slim, smooth
torso all shiny. But the man never showed.

Joey's mother told him that night that Mrs. Langstrom had called.
She was quite pleased with the boy's work and hoped he could give
her some time on Saturday. "I'm very proud of you," said his
mother. "You're growing up."

......

Saturday morning, there was no sign of Mr. Parish's pickup again.
Joey worked 2 hours. Mrs. Langstrom called him in for cookies
before he went home. It wasn't even noon.

"You should probably go clean up first," said Mrs. Langstrom.
"There's a shower upstairs. You can use the towels on the rack."

The water felt good on Joey's naked skin. He had really worked
hard, despite knowing that his yard work was some kind of ruse.
He had even enjoyed himself digging up weeds. After he had cooled
down under the shower, he stepped out of the water to grab the
soap.

"Hello little Joey." Mr. Parish was standing on the outside the
translucent shower curtain. Joey covered his crotch and half
crouched. The man laughed. "Really, Joey, I thought you *wanted*
to be naked for me."

"But- I mean, Mrs. Langstrom's downstairs."

"Don't worry about her." Mr. Parish was undressing on the other
side.

"She could come upstairs and see us."

"No," said Mr. Parish, pulling back the curtain, "she won't."

Naked, the man looked huge. His shoulders were strong and his
biceps large. His beefy torso was covered in dark, almost furry,
hair. So were his legs and crotch. Hanging down between his legs
was a large, semi-stiff cock with two prominent veins running
down the left side. It was circumcised, which disappointed Joey,
just a bit, since he'd never seen a foreskin in real life.

Joey automatically stepped back, the spray of water brushing his
back, as the man entered. It was hard to imagine this hulk was a
surgeon. Mr. Parish held Joey's shoulders. The fingers were that
strange mix of rough and nimble.

"You asked for this," the man stated, his blue eyes penetrating
into Joey. "You better decide of you really want it."

Joey froze. Yes, he had planned for this. Yes, he had wanted it
to be with *this* man. But it was like standing at the top of a
fifty-foot diving board.

"Well?" asked Mr. Parish.

"Yes, I want this."

"That's not the answer I'm looking for."

What could he mean, Joey wondered. "I really want this. Please,
Mr. Parish. I want to...have sex with you."

"You're still not giving me the right answer." Mr. Parish had a
disappointed look on his face. It made Joey feel desperate. He
looked up questioningly at Mr. Parish's stern face. The man said,
"You're going to need to do more than just tell me what you
want." He nodded down to his now-erect cock. "Show me."

The hard hands on Joey's shoulders pressed him down, making him
kneel on the rubber bath mat. The man took a half a step closer,
into the shower stream, bringing his cock head right next to
Joey's chin. The water soaked Mr. Parish and ran down his body
onto Joey. A big streamlet poured off the tip of the big cock
onto his chest. Above him, the man's wet body looked like that of
some animal god, wet hair plastered to wide muscles.

A tingle ran up Joey's spine from his ass. Trying not to grab too
fast, he wrapped his fingers about the lower half of the erect
cock, not able to encircle it all. The man's hand grasped his
head by the hair at the back and pulled Joe's face towards his
crotch. Joey's smooth chest was against the man's hairy thighs
and he wrapped his arms about them for balance. His nose was
pressed into the hair at the base of the man's cock. He could
smell the musk of it, seemingly amplified by the wetness. Joey's
penis was nail hard.

As the water poured down, he nuzzled the cock, letting it's
length and weight slide along his cheek and neck. He kissed the
man's crotch, then the lower part of the shaft. He twisted his
face underneath, lapping at the thick tubes under the skin. The
cock felt like it weighed a ton against his forehead. Mr. Parish
pulled Joey closer to his balls and Joey sucked on the hairy
sack. It was also heavy, seemingly immovable as he pressed his
face against it.

The man pushed Joey's head back and Joey instinctively opened his
mouth before the man's cock, his head tilted up. The wide cock
head slipped through his straining lips. He fit a couple of
inches into his mouth and tried to suck. It was hard with the
constant pouring water, which was seeping in his nostrils and
through his lips. He almost felt like he was drowning, like there
was no air to breathe, yet he floated on a light-headed sense of
purpose and kept sucking. The man's hand moved him back and forth
just a bit, starting a slow fucking motion. Joey lost track of
time, as he mouthed the cock, slurping away.

Then the man gently pulled him up by the hair. He was face to
chest with the man now.

"Turn around," said Mr. Parish, turning off the water.

Joey's stomach jumped. Was this going to happen right here? Him
getting fucked? He allowed the man to pivot him into the wall.

"Spread your legs," said Mr. Parish.

Again, Joey did not obey so much as let the man position him.

"Grab the wall." Mr. Parish's hand on his back bent Joey over.

Thick wet liquid splashed against his lower back. At first he
thought it might be Mr. Parish cumming over him, but this was
cool and the scent of strawberry's was in the air. Shower gel.
With his skilled hands, Mr. Parish starting spreading the gel
over Joey's back. The man used his soaping up of the boy to
explore him everywhere. Searching fingers slid under his armpit,
down his sides, up his chest and over his erect nipples. The idea
that he as being...inspected...made Joey feel even smaller before
the big man. Hands stroked down his slim thighs, front, side and
back.

Then Mr. Parish reached under him, through his spread legs, and
held Joey's small genitals in a possessive grip. The fingers
toyed with hs balls while the thumb stroked at his stiff shaft.
This sensation of the man's hands on his privates felt more like
he was being dominated than even having Mr. Parish's adult cock
in his mouth. The man took his time. He soaped Joey's butt,
sliding along the channel between his ass cheeks. He shampooed
the boy's hair and even stroked each of Joey's fingers
individually. Just when it seemed the man was done with him, Mr.
Parish would revisit some part of his body, stroking and
squeezing it.

"Do me," The man finally said. He turned Joey around and placed
the bottle of gel in his hand. Joey squeezed out a liberal amount
of the strawberry-scented gel in his hand and then smeared it up
the man's hairy belly. The wet, thick hair felt so good against
his fingers in combination with the slippery gel. He used both
hands to rub the soap into every part of the man's torso. He
spent a good time on the wide pectoral muscles. He reached up
with splayed arms and stroked over the smooth, hard shoulders.
Then he squirted some more gel and stroked down the even harder
biceps and forearms.

His two hands could not fit even halfway around the man's big
thighs and he knelt on one knee so he could adequately reach
around to cover all of it. The man jumped a bit when he stroked
the back of his knee. Ticklish perhaps? By this time the smell of
the cock at his face was distracting him and he did not want to
make the man impatient so he stood and poured out more gel. Then
he got his first real feel of the man's equipment. He ran his
fingers through the thick pubes then reverently encircled the the
heavy shaft and slid his palms all over and around it. The thing
seemed impossibly hot and vibrant, pulsing slowly as he massaged
it.

"Here," said Mr. Parish, handing him the shampoo. The man did not
lean down. Joey had to tip-toe, his slender body leaning on Mr.
Parish's wide immovable one. The big, warm cock bumped against
Joey's own hard boy dick. The man and boy looked into each
other's eyes as Joey used both hands to lather the Mr. Parish's
hair. It seemed to Joey like he was standing under two
searchlights and he turned his head ever so slightly.

After a minute, Mr. Parish held Joey close and stepped forward.
He turned the water on and as it poured over them, Joey pressed
the side of his face into the man's chest, arms circling his wide
back. Mr. Parish's hands again roamed his body, helping to wash
away the soap. Then the man turned the water off and snapped Joey
alert with a hard squeeze of his butt cheeks.

Outside the tub, they each grabbed a towel. There was a sense of
ceremony to it. The man let Joey dry him, again not leaning or
moving in any way to help. Joey had to repeat his tip-toe lean to
dry Mr. Parish's head. After the man was dry, Mr. Parish wrapped
Joey in another towel and rubbed him vigorously.

Leaving their clothes behind, the towel clad man walked the boy
out of the bathroom with a hand between the should blades.

"Mrs. Langstrom-"

"She won't bother us."

"Did you do something to her? Drug her?"

The man looked shocked and offended at first, then he laughed.

"God, no. I'm not a monster, you know."

Joey thought, 'Your *cock* is monstrous.'

"Thank you," said Mr. Parish.

Joey blushed that he had spoken his impression aloud.

Two doors away from the bathroom, Mr. Parish led Joey into what
was clearly a boy's bedroom. Race car posters were on the walls
and Dungeons and Dragons games were on the shelves.

"This used to be Mrs. Langstrom's son's room. He's long grown up,
but she's never seen the need to change it."

The room was bright. There were three large windows with
translucent blinds letting in the light while keeping the inside
private. The ceiling was high and the room was clean and smelled
like fresh laundry.

Mr. Parish pulled a tube of KY gel from the dresser drawer. "Get
on the bed, Joey."

Joey sat on the edge of the bed. He felt vulnerable with the room
door open, but was distracted by the man dropping his towel and
walking over to him. "Suck me again," Mr. Parish said. "And this
time watch the teeth."

It pained Joey that he had fallen short in his cock-sucking
before and that planted a compulsion in him to be perfect at it.
He took the hard cock shaft in his hand and bent his neck
forward. He took time to awkwardly shield his teeth with his lips
and still open wide enough to take the man inside and swallowed
the head. He started sucking.

"Get me good and wet, little Joey. It's going in your ass next
and the slipperier it is the better."

Joey slobbered on the man's thick cock. He spread the saliva bit
by bit down the veiny shaft with his lips keeping close contact
with the cock as he made small motions forward and back.

Before today, he had not spent much time thinking about what
would happen if Mr. Parish accepted his indecent proposal,
trusting that the experienced man would know how these things
were done. But this brisk march to sex was too fast for him. He
had thought that his first time alone with Mr. Parish would have
involved some talking, getting to know each other's favorite
desserts or somesuch...maybe with the man giving him some secret
wisdom about the world of homosexuality. Instead, he was in a
room with what was practically a stranger, sucking his cock and
almost certainly was about to take that same cock in his ass.

By now, Joey was moving up and down two-thirds of the man's thick
shaft with a rocking motion that demanded his torso as well as
his neck. At the end of each plunge, the big head rammed his
throat and made him gurgle.

The man commanded him, "Lie flat on your stomach in the center of
the bed. Spread your legs." No guiding hand touched him. No more
words were spoken. He was going to have to offer himself up as
sacrifice to the man's cock with complete willingness. It was
thrilling, scary and humiliating all at once. He was going to get
what he wanted and he would probably like it, but he was
submitting himself to this man. He was admitting that he was a
faggot by not resisting in any way.

"Mr. Parish, maybe we could-"

The man pressed a big finger to Joey's lips, but did not speak
himself. He just waited. With a gulp, Joey stood and removed his
towel. Then he turned to the vintage G.I.Joe bed sheets and
placed his palms down on them. He half expected a push on his
butt, but the man behind him stayed still. Joey crawled forward
on all fours, then dropped his chest to the top of the bed. Then
he widened his knees and brought his crotch to the bed as well.
He was now exposed, his ass on view for the man behind him.

"Good boy, Joey," said Mr. Parish. "Remember, I'm in charge and
we do whatever I say, but you must also show me that you want
this or you get nothing from me."

Again Joey felt a flash of shame. This man was a molester. A
'predator' the web page had said, but Joey was giving in to him,
like a gazelle without the sense to stay away from the lion.
Something was wrong with him he was sure. But, he could not keep
himself from giving in.

The mattress shifted as the heavy man got on besides Joey. The
boy was expecting cold gel at his butt hole, but instead he got
warm lips on his shoulder. "You are a beautiful boy, young Joey,"
the man said before kissing his shoulder again. Now the man was
covering him, Mr. Parish's heavy chest against his back. "You are
like a prince or a little angel." More kisses, this time drifting
towards his neck, then up towards his left ear. "I can't believe
I'm going to get to fuck you in your tight little ass."

A cold, blunt fingertip of gel tapped at Joey's hole, making him
jump.

"Easy, Joey. Easy. This won't hurt unless you fight it. Just
relax."

Relax? He was about to get fucked! Still, Joey took some deep
breaths and they seemed to help. The finger at his hole made
small, pressing circles. Then it popped inside.

"Unggh," gasped Joey.

The uncomfortable finger pressed in, until it was as far as it
could go. The man wobbled the finger about, getting more and more
freedom as he worked on Joey. The boy squirmed. Two fingers were
soon loosening his butthole. After a few minutes of methodical
twisting, the man was satisfied and pulled the fingers out.

"Time for the real fun," said Mr. Parish. Then the man pulled
Joey up by the waist and slid two pillows under his stomach,
leaving his ass propped up and ready to be fucked.

The man swung his leg over Joey's thighs, straddling him and
making the wet tip of his hard cock drag along the two cheeks of
the boy's ass. Joey's gut tightened. He was not sure he wanted
this, but he could think of nothing to say. Mr. Parish grabbed
around Joey's chest with his forearms and leaned down against the
boy's back, his furry chest grazing Joey's skin.

With his other hand, Mr. Parish lined the tip of his cock up with
Joey's hole. Joey's breathing got shallow and erratic. He finally
spoke. "Mr. Parish-"

The man pushed in.

The front end lodged inside and stretched his hole wide. It felt
like he'd been stung all around the rim of his boy hole.
"Aaauurgh. Ohh. Oowwhh!" Joey was conscious that he could not be
too loud and he bit his lip to keep quiet. The man kept pushing,
though. Nothing violent, but constant and insistent thrusting,
penetrating more and more with each jab. Joey let out little
whimpers with each one. He could picture his butt passage like a
measuring cylinder from his science class, with marks down the
side telling how far Mr. Parish's stiff cock was inside him,
burning his ass is it went along. He was limp on top of the
pillows, his head resting sideways on the sheet. Joey could taste
a little blood on his lip as he strained to keep his whimpers
from becoming yelps or even screams. The movement of the cock in
his ass seemed to spread his insides like a tree branch.

Why had he gotten himself into this? What made him think this
would be fun for a boy? Surely Joey should have known that there
was a reason his friends weren't seeking out men on their own?
Men like Mr. Parish were being sent to jail and put on warning
lists for a reason; because they hurt boys.

Joey's toes curled as the man lost patience and slammed him with
one last lunge, his crotch slapping Joey's ass. Joey squealed.

"God, your ass feels good, little Joey. You've got my whole cock
in you." The man lay quiet for a while, just breathing deeply
against Joey's ear. Joey's invaded ass felt stretched and
hurting. The stinging, tearing sensation had eased, but the
burning inside had only gotten worse as Mr. Parish had gone
deeper.

The hand under his chest gripped him tighter. Joey grabbed a
quick breath and held it, knowing that the man was about to go at
him. Mr. Parish was calm. He eased out like he was backing a car
out of a driveway. The pulling, stinging feeling came back as the
cock moved in Joey, alongside a sense of relief as the big head
retreated. Halfway out, Mr. Parish pushed carefully back in
again. Joey filled up with cock and wheezed reflexively as he
lost his breath.

"You're doing well, Joey." The man kissed his cheek and ran his
fingers through his hair in a friendly way. "The hardest part is
over. Just bear it a bit more and you're going to get what you
wanted."

The words did make Joey feel better. He'd already taken the man
all the way. Without the dread of anticipation to worry about, he
was able to take a few deep breaths and his muscles relaxed.

"You feel so good," said Mr. Parish. "I could fuck your ass
forever. It's so tight and silky in there." Joey blushed at these
compliments. How should he respond to something like that? The
man continued, "Your ass is like the Ferrari of asses. It just
feels like a dream."

The man slowly pulled out again, coming almost all the way out
before pushing steadily back in. The burning and stretching was
only marginally better. His hole still felt obscenely stretched.
Which made sense because you couldn't get much more obscene than
being stretched by a thick cock. It hurt every time the cock
passed against his hole. Joey also hurt every time the cock
spread his guts on the way in.

The fucking continued at a measured pace. The man seemed to be
testing Joey's limits with a faster lunge only occasionally, with
the increase being small enough to avoid traumatic pain.

The pain did not go away, but Joey found he was getting used to
it, able to anticipate and prepare for it. His distress leveled
off, then fell slowly. He found he was aware of other sensations
now. Mr. Parish's weight against his butt and back combined with
the the arms wrapped around his chest made Joey feel under the
man's control. This was the closest he had ever been with another
human being. After all, there was nothing closer than having
someone inside you, free to do as they wished.

It was the first completely pleasant sensation for Joey since Mr.
Parish had shown up in the bathroom, with no fear or pain: That
feeling of closeness with Mr. Parish and the man's ownership of
him. It gave him a sense of security and comfort. Without
realising it before, this was what he had wanted when he had
started combing through the Offenders Database months ago. This
was what he had wanted even before that, from the time he had
first started taking note of the men he encountered, admiring the
way the special ones moved, with that air of confidence.

Mr. Parish was stroking him too, letting his fingertips slide
along his skin, taking note of Joey as much as giving him
ticklish, soothing feelings. The man nuzzled against his neck and
licked him there and behind his ears. The thick chest hair rubbed
against Joey's back. The insides of the man's strong thighs
pressed against Joey's own skinny thighs.

Joey felt alive, with the movement above, and in, his body
pushing waves of breathless pleasure up and down his spine. And
above all that floated the realization that he'd lost his
virginity. He was getting fucked. By a man. Joey welcomed the
feel of Mr. Parish in him and groaned aloud.

"Heh," Mr. Parish chuckled. "Getting to like it, huh?"

"Mmhmm." Joey was afraid to try speaking.

Mr. Parish took his groans as a sign of comfort and started
thrusting into Joey with longer, firmer strokes. Again Joey bit
his lip as the pain increased alongside the thrill of the man's
meaty cock moving inside him. There was a complicated mess of
nerves in and around his butt that sang in pleasure with each
thrust and withdrawal. Faster and faster the man fucked him. Soon
he was being rammed steadily and his face was sliding along the
soft sheets as his whole body rocked under Mr. Parish's power.

The man started to get vocal. "Urrgghhhh. Oooohhhh. Yes, Joey.
Yes." He squeezed Joey tighter. "Take it, Joey. Take it. Take it.
Take my fucking cock, you little slut." Each thrust gave of a
gentle slapping sound as Mr. Parish smacked against his ass.

Then Mr. Parish switched to heaving, stiff thrusts into Joey's
sore ass as he orgasmed. They pain came back with the heavy
fucking. Joey gritted his teeth and struggled to breath. With
each deep thrust the man grunted loudly, "Uuhhnnggh!" Again and
again, until he was done.

After cumming up Joey, the man's grunts quieted gradually as the
power in his fucking eased into a gentle rocking. The man chewed
with his lips on Joey's ear. Mr. Parish said, "That was
beautiful, little Joey. That was first class. I haven't cum that
hard in years."

Joey's mind was too dizzy to answer. A man had just cum in his
ass. Joey could barely believe it. He had sperm in his ass shot
up there by a hard cock. He could still feel the cock up there,
his ass lips spread open to accommodate it. The man stroked
Joey's sides and belly. Then Mr. Parish turned Joey's head and
kissed him on the lips. The man's tongue came at him again and
Joey let it in. He knew he was supposed to kiss back, but he
could not find the energy to act. He just let the man do as he
wished, mentally drained.

Then the man slapped him on the side of his butt and said, "Wow!
You are a hell of a fuck, boy." That broke Joey out of his daze.
The man's joy at having fucked him made Joey smile. He had given
that pleasure to Mr. Parish. Joey was a 'good fuck'- no, a 'hell
of a fuck,' and that made him proud.

The man pulled back, and the deflating cock eased out of Joey's
ass, giving him one last thrill. He felt empty and wished it
could have stayed up inside him. Joey looked over his shoulder at
those happy blue eyes as Mr. Parish stood and wiped off his cock
with a towel. The cock was half-size now, but still looked hefty
as it swung about. Joey felt a stirring of affection and loyalty
for the organ that had taken his cherry.

Mr. Parish held Joey's ankle gently. "You okay, little Joey?"

"Yeah."

"Good." The man smiled and flipped Joey over by the ankle. Then
he knelt over Joey and lowered his handsome face, kissing the
boy. Joey felt his whole body come alive with arousal and wrapped
his arms around the man's neck. Mr. Parish was hugging Joey too,
stroking his hair, face and sides.

Then the man got up, but only for a little bit. He set some
pillows against the bed head and lay on them before pulling Joey
to him. Joey squeezed in against the man's side and Mr. Parish
put an arm around him. The boy's head was against Mr. Parish's
shoulder and chest.

"I'm glad you came to me, Joey," said the man, stroking Joey's
back.

Joey put an arm across Mr. Parish's hairy stomach. "Thanks."

"Would you like to keep doing this?"

It seemed strange to Joey that the man even felt the need to ask.
"Yes. I liked it a lot. I mean, some of the time it was scary,
but I think now that I've done it, I know it's worth it because
the good parts make up for it."

"The first bit hurt, huh?"

"Near the end too."

"What were the good parts?"

"When I felt you cumming," said Joey. "I could tell because of
the way you got stiff and started breathing hard. It made me feel
good to know you were enjoying it. That part was good. And..."

"And what?" asked Mr. Parish.

"This part is really good too."

"You mean right now?" Mr. Parish looked down at him, his blue
eyes seeming surprised.

"Yeah," said Joey. "I like you holding me like this, knowing that
we just— well, you know."

"Fucked?"

Joey blushed. "I feel really close to you. Even though I hardly
know anything about you, I feel like I know everything that's
important."

"Well, I hardly know anything about you, too," said Mr. Parish,
"and I feel very close to you as well."

They lay there for a while in silence. Joey felt like he was
floating. It was so comforting to have this man's big body to
hold on to. Like he had found a country to belong to. He had a
vision of himself running a flag up Mr. Parish's tall cock and
saluting. He couldn't suppress a giggle.

"What?" asked Mr. Parish.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"You'll just think I'm weird," said Joey.

"Joey," said Mr. Parish, looking at him with those un-defiable
eyes.

Joey took a deep breath and told him about the flag.

Mr. Parish got a loving look on his face and said, "I don't think
you're weird, Joey. I think you're wonderful."

At ease again, Joey pressed closer to the man's hairy body and
smiled to himself.

They talked a bit more, about Joey's life and school and his
parents and Henry, his best friend. It felt strange to Joey that
Mr. Parish was interested in this stuff because Joey's life was
so ordinary and boring. Mr. Parish had gone through so much more
dramatic stuff.

"What's prison like?" Joey asked.

"Prison is hard. Being out is harder."

"Really? Why?"

"Because," said Mr. Parish jokingly, "there are no sexy boys in
prison and out here I want to touch each and every one of you in
dirty ways and I can't. Well, not before today, anyway."

Joey said nothing, sensing that there was more.

Mr. Parish got serious again. "What really hurts is that prison
destroys who you used to be. In every way. Your mind gets flat in
there. You come out and you can't remember how to decide things
for yourself anymore. Some afternoons I think to myself it would
be nice to go for a walk and then I stand at the porch waiting
and after a while I realize I was waiting for someone to give me
permission.

"And then there's my job. I can't ever go back to surgery. I
loved being a doctor. I was really good at it too."

"What do you do now?" asked Joey. "I know you have a job."

"Construction work. Lots of cement."

"Oh."

"Hey, at least it keeps me fit, right?"

"I guess," said Joey. He took Mr. Parish's free hand in his and
squeezed it.

They talked more. As the conversation drifted from topic to
topic, Joey was impressed by the man's intelligence and life
experiences. He also seemed to respect Joey's opinions. In the
back of his mind, however, Joey was still stuck on the sexual
experience he had just been through. He thought, 'I've just
agreed to let this man continue molesting me. What he did to me
was legally rape. I've just been raped and I liked it.'

Joey was drawn to the Mr. Parish's nipples. First he just rubbed
them with the tip of his fingers, but then he was circling them
and squeezing them. After a while, he realized that Mr. Parish
has stopped talking. He looked up to see an amused expression on
the man's face. Mr. Parish asked, "Would you like to lick them?"

"Yes." Joey leaned over and touched his tongue to the hard tip of
the nearest nipple. He squeezed the muscled chest underneath with
one hand and stroked the other nipple with his other. Getting
closer, Joey started licking. He dripped spit down onto the
tanned skin and swirled his tongue around it. The man's chest
hair tickled his nose as he moved his head about.

Then Joey went after the next nipple, sliding his body on top of
Mr. Parish. He repeated his tonguing and wetting of the hard nub
and then took the entire thing in his mouth and sucked. Mr.
Parish breathed in deep and pulled Joey's head tighter to his
chest. The man directed Joey back to the first nipple and Joey
slurped on it.

Joey then sunk his nose between the man's chest muscles and
inhaled. The smell was strong and dark and made Joey dizzy. He
repeated his inhaling, like a drug addict taking a hit. Joey's
dick was rock hard now. So was Mr. Parish's: Joey felt it moving
about between them.

The only thing better than the smell of Mr. Parish's chest was
the taste. Joey was licking all over the whole thing now, around
the nipples, the collarbone, the valley between the pectorals. It
seemed like a giant playground of manliness. Mr. Parish's hands
on the boy's head pushed him lower, to his stomach. The hair was
just as thick and continued to tickle Joey's nose as he licked
and slurped and even mischeivously bit the skin.

At the navel, Joey took a long time circling his tongue and
licking all about. The man's hard cock was throbbing against his
chest now and when Mr. Parish's hands let him, he moved to the
man's crotch. Even having just taken a shower, the dark bush at
the crotch smelled powerfully. Again, Joey went dizzy. He sniffed
about, his nose buried in the hair. Then he nosed down to the
balls. Mr. Parish spread his legs, letting Joey get under the
hairy testicles to the truly wonderful scent there. He felt like
he could stay here forever, breathing in the musk of the man
while his hands caressed Joey's hair affectionately.

Even with his ears muffled by the man's big thighs, Joey heard
footsteps in the hall. He tried to pull away, but Mr. Parish
squeezed his thighs tighter and held his head down with his
hands. With a loud whisper, Mr. Parish said, "Stay down there or
I'm going to fuck you in the kitchen while she watches."

Joey stopped struggling.

"Keep licking," said the man.

As Joey restarted his tongue action, this time on the semi-salty
skin of the man's anus, the old lady came to the door, speaking.
"You boys forgot your cookies downstairs, so I brought them—" The
sight of Joey must have stunned her. "Oh my," she said. "I
thought you'd be all done by now. I'm sorry."

Mr. Parish said, "Oh we were finished, but Joey wanted more."

As he licked, Joey felt humiliated. He could only imagine how
lewd he looked to the old lady who knew that he was there
willingly, debasing himself. He started crying silently.

Mrs. Langstrom said, "Well, young men can be that way. I know
that from experience. I'll just leave the cookies and you boys
can have them afterwards." There was the sound of a tray being
placed on the bedside table and then footsteps out of the room.

Joey had to stop tonguing the man as he lost control and sobbed.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Mr. Parish, pulling Joey's head
out from between his thighs.

"Mrs. Langstrom saw me!"

"Yes, so?"

"So she *saw* me."

"Yes," said Mr. Parish. "So?"

Tears ran down Joey's face. "Now she knows about me. She's going
to think I'm— This was supposed to be secret. Nobody was supposed
to find out. How can I talk to her now? She saw me with my face
in your ass!"

Mr. Parish got a look of sympathy. "Come here, Joey," he said and
pulled the boy up against his chest. "Have a cookie."

Joey ate the cookie the man put to his mouth. It was chewy, with
that extra richness that seemed to come from home made baking.

"Joey," explained Mr. Parish calmly, "You're a slut." The cookie
suddenly seemed like rubber to Joey. He tried to object, but Mr.
Parish cut him off. "No, you are. You showed up at my door with a
portfolio of seven men you had selected to fuck you. You are a
slut." Mr. Parish stroked Joey's forehead. "Now it may not be the
most glorious thing in the world, but it's who you are and you
need to accept that. There's nothing wrong with wanting to make
men feel good."

Joey swallowed and Mr. Parish gave him a bit of milk from a
glass. The taste was coming back.

"But she'll tell. Everyone is-"

Mr. Parish laughed. "No, little Joey, she won't tell. She's an
old hippie. She thinks free love is the greatest thing. As long
as I'm not forcing you, she's fine with what we do."

"Really?" asked Joey.

"Really." Mr. Parish gave him another piece of cookie. "Besides.
She owes me. She's got a son, a colonel in the army, who's alive
because I saved him on the operating table. That's why she set me
up with the house next door, too."

Joey's tears were dry and he was enjoying his cookie. He said,
"Well it's still weird to have her walk in the room when we're
doing stuff."

"You have to let all that go." Mr. Parish gave Joey a kiss on the
lips. "She's going to be our cover story for getting together
every Saturday so you might as well get used—"

"Will we still go on dates?"

"What?"

"You know," said Joey. "Like at the movie. I enjoyed that."

"That'd be hard, Joey. You know what my situation is."

"Yeah," said Joey, disappointed.

Mr. Parish smiled and rubbed Joey's chin. "We'll see." Right away
Joey smiled but before he could say thanks, Mr Parish continued,
"Now why don't you go back to eating out my ass. I know it
probably doesn't tast as good as the cookies, but I enjoyed it."

"Oh, no," said Joey, dropping down to the man's crotch. "Your
butt tasted way better."

As Joey dug his way back to Mr. Parish's ass, he heard the man
laugh and say, "Just don't tell her that. It might hurt her
feelings." The boy kept his tongue poking at the man's wrinkled
pucker. He tried to get as much of the tip in as possible but
also made sure that he was constantly swabbing the hole with his
spit. He enjoyed the taste. Not the actual flavor, but what that
taste meant. It felt so submissive to be under this man, touching
this dirty place with his tongue.

A tickling on his ear distracted Joey. He flicked at it only to
touch a wet string of precum that clung to his fingers. Joey
lifted up. The shiny liquid was stretched all the way from his
fingers to the tip of Mr. Parish's cock. More was leaking down
the big shaft, pooling at the base. Fascinated, Joey touched his
fingers to his nose and the fluid clung there as he inhaled.
There was little real smell, but in Joey's mind it was wonderful.
He dipped his thumb down to the bottom of the cock and scooped up
a glob.

With an embarrassed looked at Mr. Parish, Joey slurped it off. It
was slightly chalky, and sticky enough to cling to his lips as he
sucked the stuff in. It tingled his tongue and he had to keep
licking at his lips to clear all of it. It amazed him that
something could be so slimy and sticky at the same time. He
licked the precum from his fingers. There was fresh liquid almost
pouring out the tip of the cock though. Joey held the big shaft
steady in his hand and licked the drips up. When he pulled back,
a shiny, looping line of precum was hanging between his mouth and
the cock. He slurped at it moving his head closer to the cock
until he was sucking on the head itself.

"Aaaahhh," sighed Mr. Parish. "Good boy, Joey. Keep it up. Suck
my cock like the little slut you are."

Joey grimaced a bit at being talked to in such a demeaning way,
but he also felt like he deserved it. It made him feel right, as
if he was supposed to be here with a big cock in his mouthhole.
He redoubled his efforts, sliding down the cock repeatedly at
breakneck speed, while trying to keep up his suction. His nose
reached halfway to the man's musky pubes with each downstoke,
giving a burst of that dank aroma each time.

Mr. Parish started to breath heavily, stiffening his legs. These
were the signs of orgasm Joey knew by now. He braced himself for
a flood of semen, wondering what the taste would be like.

Just as it seemed like the man was ready to blow, however, he
pulled away and flipped Joey onto his back. With lightning speed,
the man folded Joey's knees against his shoulders and plunged the
thick cock all the way in. For Joey, whose hole had lost its
looseness, the stretching pain was just as intense as the first
time. He gasped for breath as the cock sunk into him, leaving a
ripped feeling in its wake.

He tried to scream, but nothing would come out except panting,
shallow breaths. The man didn't seem to notice. Joey was below
his hairy, toned chest and the boy's swimming vision saw only a
blur of black and light brown above him as the man hammered away
at his tender hole. Joey kept his arms out at the side, using the
bed to keep himself from toppling under the force of the cock
shoving into his ass. Already at the edge, the man took only a
few minutes of rough, rapid fucking to cum, ramming extra hard
into Joey for the final dozen strokes, before collapsing onto the
boy.

The full weight and sweaty, smelly dampness of the man came down
on Joey. Underneath Mr. Parish, Joey felt vulnerable and small as
he was pressed into the mattress. The cock embedded in his ass
still hurt and he breathing continued to be rapid, filling his
lungs with the smell of sex and exertion. And again Joey felt
right at home, like he was in his place.

"MMmmmMnnnghhhh," Mr. Parish happily groaned above him,
stretching slowly. "Joey, your pussy is the fucking best. Like
butter. "

The compliment gave Joey a thrill and he smiled in spite of the
pain and discomfort. The man didn't ease off him. In fact, the
man wrapped his muscular arms around Joey and pulled them closer
together, the boy's head turning sideways as his cheek was
pressed into Mr. Parish's hairy chest. Joey took the chance to
hug his man back, stroking his man's strong back admiringly. His
man? Was that right, Joey wondered, as he enjoyed the embrace.
Was Mr. Parish his man, now that Joey had given him his
virginity?

Eventualy, both of them fell asleep in that position.

Joey awoke some time later from warm dreams to the feel of Mr.
Parish making love to him. Joey felt like he had not truly woken
up. The man was kissing Joey's lips and neck while gently sliding
his cock into the boy at a leisurely pace. Joey's pussy lips were
comfortable with the invader and no longer crying out in terror.
Instead, each passage of the cock up his boy chute gave Joey
chills of pleasure. Mr. Parish was holding Joey gently in his
arms, stroking his hair and hip and leg.

The whole thing felt comforting in its rhythm, like a water wheel
from an old painting turning steadily in a stream. Joey kissed
Mr. Parish back as he regained his senses, enjoying the feel of
the man's tongue and the sense of closeness that came from such
touching. In a few minutes, the man came almost effortlessly in
Joey before relaxing at the boy's side, still holding him. They
dozed off again.

When Mrs. Langstrom woke them up, Joey felt embarassed at being
found naked, lying against Mr. Parish's body. However, the woman
just seemed to not care at all that a man had just spent the
afternoon fucking a boy in her house. She gathered up the cookie
dishes with a smile then ruffled Joey's hair. "I bet you're ready
for another go, aren't you?"

When she was gone, Joey took note of his situation. He was lying
on his side with a warm, hard cock pressed up beneath of his
butt.

 "I think she's right," said Mr. Parish in his gravelly voice,
startling Joey. Like a wrestler, the man hoisted Joey up by the
shoulders and plunked him facedown on the soft mattress. Mr.
Parish dropped onto the boy with all his weight. Joey gasped as
much from the prospect of one more fucking as he did from
actually losing air.

The man's hard penis burrowed along his upper thighs as Mr.
Parish got in position above him. "You're like a little slut
angel, Joey," Mr. Parish said into his ear with a tone of
accusation." Just a fine, fine ass for men to use. And you like
having them use it, don't you?"

"Mmmhm," Joey mumbled into his pillow.

"I said, 'Don't you?!'"

"Yes," Joey lifted his head to say. "I like you using my ass. "

"Well, I'm going to give you one last good fuck before I send you
home full of my cum. That way I'm going to have something to
remember this by and I'm going to make sure you don't forget me."

With his knees, Mr. Parish spread Joey's thighs and then pressed
the tip home. Joey felt like he was losing his virginity for a
third time as the big cock rammed into his butthole, which had
only just recovered from it's earlier abuse.

"Aaah. Aaaaahrgh," Joey yelled, his head snapping up in pain only
to be pushed back down by Mr. Parish's strong chest as the man
pushed forward.

Mr. Parish didn't pause, as he shoved his hefty meat right to the
hilt in one fast action and then prompty attacked with one deep
thrust after another. To Joey, it felt like he was trying to make
his cock come out the other end.

Joey's breathing again went erratic as the feeling of each
penetration caused his muscles to spasm and his body could not
control itself. His nose, buried in the sheets were full of the
smell of cotton mixed with sweat and the undefinable smell of Mr.
Parish all around him.

The man wrapped his arms around him, making Joey's breathing even
more difficult. Joey's splayed legs spasmed until they ran out of
energy. The boy grew more and more limp as the man used his
little ass.

All Joey had now was the feel of being fucked. The rubbing motion
of the large hairy body, the hot air from the panting against his
head and neck and ears, the sliding of his forehead and knees
against the G.I Joe sheets as the man's thighs  pushed him
foreward with each strong thrust. The grumbling of Mr. Parish's
chest as the man grunted his desire contrasting with the clean
'thok, thok thok,' as the headboard of the old bed hit the wall
in a steady beat.

And of course, there was the feeling of being split open again
and again, with excruciating pleasure, as the man rammed his cock
into Joey's aching chute repeatedly.

This was Joey's place. Letting himself be taken. He soaked it in,
gritting his teeth.

Then there were a final dozen extra hard, extra loud thrusts and
Mr. Parish was moaning in his ear, "Yes, Joey...Yesssss...Gooood,
yes!" as he came inside Joey for the fourth time that day. As he
calmed down, Mr. Parish's rhythm slowed and then he came to rest
atop Joey, his weight greater than ever. Joey endured it,
prepared to stay until the man was truly done with him.

After a few minutes, when Joey doubted his resolve, Mr.Parish
rose up.

"Well, that was an afternoon well, spent, don't you agree, young
Joey?"

Joey was too busy mustering his limp muscles to reply.

Standing at the side of the bed, Mr. Parish laughed at Joey's
apparently shellshocked expression. "Don't worry. You're not
damaged or anything." Then the man took Joey's hand and pulled
him to his feet. With unsteady steps, Joey let himself be lead
into the hallway. The smell of baking wafted upstairs.

The naked man and boy walked into the bathroom and Mr. Parish
helped Joey into the tub. Mr. Parish washed Joey under the
shower.  He even gave Joey a quick two-finger spank right on the
butthole which popped the boy out of his daze.

"That'll help tighten it up," said Mr. Parish. "I like knowing my
cum is staying in you."

Then it was Joey's turn to wash Mr. Parish. Again, the man made
Joey work at it and the boy had to tiptoe to shampoo the man's
hair. It was a strange sensation for Joey compared to their first
bath. Now he was washing the body of the man who had taken
ownership of him it seemed. Whereas he had touched it with wonder
before, now he touched it with reverence.

When he kneeled to wash Mr. Parish's legs, the cock that had
taken his viginity hung, half-hard, before him. Joey knew it was
odd, but he felt great affection for that instrument of sexual
power. He tentatively leaned in, pulled back, then decided to go
for it and placed a peck on the top of the large head.

He looked up at Mr. Parish, embarrased, but the man's expression
said that he understood: that bonding with a cock wasn't strange
for a boy like Joey. The man ran a kind hand through Joey' hair
and then pulled him up.

"It's okay, Joey," said Mr. Parish. "When you're with me, you can
be the real you. Don't feel bad for what you are."

......

That night, As Joey ate dinner with his mother, father and older
sister, Megan, all he could think about was the four loads of
sperm soaking in his ass. At one point, his sister looked up from
texting her latest boyfriend to comment, "Jesus, Joey, what's
with the stupid grin?" and Joey realized how happy he was that he
had given up his ass to Mr. Parish.



Chapter 2

Tuesday afternoon, Joey was back at Mrs Langstrom's flower beds.
All he could think about was the strong, naked body of Mr.
Parish, but the man was nowhere about.

That night, Henry slept over and they had a chance to talk for
the first time since Mr. Parish had fucked Joey.

"It's just so frustrating," said Joey. "I mean, it looks like he
really intends to make me do yard work two days a week to
maintain this cover story."

"Well, it's worth it, isn't it?" Henry asked.

"Hell, yeah." Joey couldn't help but break into giggles. "But
still, I thought that having sex would kinda make me stop being
so horny all the time. Instead, it's like I want it more than
ever now. I can't stop thinking about-"

"You think he'd want to do it with me?" Henry asked softly.

Joey fought down his jealousy and said, "Probably. But I thought
you weren't interested in this."

"I'm not. But it's still got me wondering, you know?"

Just then Megan interrupted them. "Joey, you little shit, I told
you and your faggot boyfriend to clean up the living room.
Matthew's coming over and the whole thing is covered in flowers
and leaves."

Megan was sixteen and moderately hot. Matthew was a junior at
Hiscock State College. Joey's parents had some reservations about
the age difference, but Matthew was not the typical wild fratboy
type. Indeed, he was an art history major who always dressed in
black and complained about 'the oppression of societal
privilege'. Joey could tell that Matthew was putting on an act at
some level, but he had to admit, Matthew was still super hot,
with his slim, wound-up body and intense eyes under his falling
dark hair. Also, Joey and Henry often discussed how Matthew's
black jeans always seemed stretched to bursting by the package in
the crotch.

The two boys picked up the trash. Joey often helped Henry with
his flower-arranging hobby and and three elegant bouquets lined
the living room coffee table.

Just as they were done cleaning, Matthew arrived. Upon seeing the
flowers, he growled, 'Such a futile art. Everything dies and
decays and beauty just disappears from this world."

Henry looked offended. But Joey was watching Matthew's bulging
crotch and licking his dry lips. 'I need to have sex soooo bad,
right now,' he thought.

Instead, Matthew roped the boys and Megan into watching a
documentary on assassination conspiraces. The boys sat on the
floor while the couple covered under a blanket on the couch.
About halfway through the movie, they heard Matthew's breathing
go ragged as he came from a hand job.

......

There was no sex for Joey, however. Thursday was more gardening.
It wasn't bad spending time with Mrs. Langstrom. She tended to
say little and most of that was kindly and generous. Plus the
cookies never stopped coming.

On Saturday, instead of inviting him in, Mrs Langstrom simply
handed him a denim jacket and a note.

It read, "If things are safe, then come to the movies and wear
the jacket. Buy tickets for the movie in theater 9. Stand at the
northern staircase for 7 minutes and come in. Sit in the back
left."

As he stood in the lobby, the overlarge jacket on him, Joey
counted the seconds on his watch and wondered at the paranoia
that living as a sex offender created.

Then Joey himself caught the paranoia. Suppose people could see
who Joey was? *What* he was? The man buying nachos by the
concession bar seemed to be over-interested in Joey, for
instance. He was about average height, but wide shouldered. His
arms were muscular without being bulky, their full length exposed
in his camoflage vest. The man's bright blond hair fell wildly at
his back, and under his severely curved cowboy hat his eyes
seemed odd and menacing.

Joey's watch ticked over the time to go into the movie and he
shook off the idea that people could tell he was a slut.

The left rear corner was empty. Joey sat there and waited. A few
more people entered the darkened theater as the previews began
and one shadow resolved into Mr. Parish, who sat and lifted the
armrest between them.

"Hello, little Joey."

The man's tone was filled with insinuations. Or was that Joey's
overactive imagination? This man had fucked him! Had stuck a
giant cock up his tight boy butt and filled him with hot, white
cum. And the way that Mr Parish spoke seemed to say, 'Yes, boy,
you are mine, as it should be.'

"Hi, Mr Parish."

"Our movie today is 'Kamal's Day of Wonder,' about a young Afghan
gay couple in the days of the Taliban. Very touching." The man
took Joey's hand into his. "Are you disappointed we're on a date
instead of in Mrs Langstrom's house?"

"Yeah, a little. But this is good too. I just like being near
you. It's like I'm...well...nevermind."

"You are not to keep secrets from me Joey, remember? I've already
violated your sexy little body thoroughly, so you've got nothing
to hide from me in any case."

"I feel like this is the kind of role I belong in, being next to
you."

"And I enjoy being near you too." With that, the man's strong
hands moved to Joey's legs, running along them.

The movie was fantastic for about an hour, with stark desert
scenery and handsome boys. The language made them seem exotic.
Mr. Parish continued to show off by giving Joey little insider
jokes that the translators missed as the two of them snuggled, Mr
Parish's body blocking Joey from view as the man stroked Joey's
hair and neck.

Then Mr Parish seemed to just lose focus and started kissing
Joey's head, face and lips. Eventually they were in a full-on
makeout session.

Joey was alarmed. How could Mr Parish seem so obsessed with
secrecy and then pull a move like this? There were people all
around. Was that the silhouette of a cowboy hat at the other end
of the empty back row?

Joey's body was responding to the kissing, and now fondling. His
cock was hard and his breathing ragged.

Then Mr Parish pulled back and looked Joey over.

Catching his breath, Joey said, "Wha-? I- What is it?"

"You know, young Joey, it occurs to me that there is one way I
have not violated you as yet."

Joey sat silently as he imagined horrible possibilities.

The man said, "I have yet to come down your snug little throat."

Joey ran last Saturday through his memory and realized with a
sense of regret that he had not yet even tasted Mr Parish's cum.

Then the man's strong fingers were entwined in his hair, pulling
him down towards his crotch. Mr Parish was going to make him give
a blow job right there in the theater! Could the man with the
cowboy hat see?

The sweaty smell of cock mixed with the dusty work jeans and the
popcorn scent of the theater to create a magical rush that
knocked Joey's paranoia right out. It got even better once Mr
Parish unzipped and almost instantaneously slipped the head of
his hard cock into Joey's mouth.

"Mmmmhhhmm." Joey was groaning from the musky scent of pubes as
well as the knowledge of being used by a man. Despite the awkward
angle, he diligently explored Mr Parish's cock. The Saturday
before, all the times he'd had Mr Parish in his mouth, there had
been no chance to really experience it. Now, he tested the veined
surface with his lips. Joey pivoted his head to sample the flared
edge of the big head. He tasted the oozing tip with his flicking
tongue.

In his overloaded mind, it was hard to separate the slick, salty
taste of Mr Parish from the dark smell of the crotch and the
gentle bumpiness of the two veins down the left side, he soon
found himself short of breath and struggling to stay focused.

Mr Parish's hand lifted him off and then the man said, "Get on
the floor. Kneel."

But that would expose them to view more, wouldn't it?

Mr Parish said, "Don't hesitate when I tell you to do something,
Joey."

With wordless shame, Joey slipped down to the hard floor and bent
his head forward, taking the wide cockhead back between his lips.
He had a straighter path down the shaft now and sped up, trying
to get a quick slurping rhythm going.

"Easy, little Joey, easy." Mr Parish restrained his eager head.
"Work the top. That's the best way for beginners."

It hurt to be called a beginner. To think that he was not skilled
at what he was fast coming to see as his purpose in life:
pleasing men. Or at least pleasing their cocks.

But he obeyed his man, sticking to working his lips on the round
knob. The tingly taste of the precum on coated his tongue as he
licked hard at the underside of the big cock. He alternated
licking with slurping and straighforward sucking when his tongue
would tire.

"Ease up, Joey," said Mr Parish. "Try to put some thought into
it."

Alarmed at his failure, Joey almost shut down in panic, but then
he held fast to Mr Parish's advice and slowed the pace. He made
his licks of the underside slower and stiffer and was immediately
rewarded with a groan of happiness from his man.

The more deliberate action was better for Joey too. He could at
last appreciate the smoothness, curvature, and stiffness of the
peehole area. He wormed tongue against it, creating a few more
groans and grunts.

He turned left in a panic to see if anyone was noticing, but Mr
Parish grabbed his hair and pulled him back. "Do you job, little
Joey. That's all that should matter to you."

Of course it was the only thing that should matter, Joey
reprimanded himself. He continued laving his tongue against the
lower head. Then he swiped up the sides and tried his best to
twirl around it.

"Don't forget to suck it too."

Joey obeyed, trying his best to be gentle while still giving a
deep pull with his mouth. As he experimented with this, he
accidentally found his lips squeezing just under the flared cock
head and "Oh, wow," grumbled out of Mr Parish, sounding like
thunder to Joey. Surely everyone in the theater had heard that?

Mr Parish tightened his grip on the back of Joey's head and the
boy understood automatically that he was to keep up his lip
massage. It took mental effort and endurance to keep it up and he
often found himself having to start all over. Mr Parish did not
seem to mind, his grip only becoming firmer and his cock head
seeming to swell even more.

Then Mr Parish held Joey's head in place and his cock and the
rest of his body tensed up. Joey knew it was going to blow and
his urge to please paralyzed him as he tried to suck, massage and
lick all at once.

It didn't seem to matter. Spurts of warm, thick semen spilled
into his mouth, coating his teeth and tongue almost instantly. As
it threatened to leak down his throat, Joey struggled to control
his breathing. The jerking cock took forever to finish spilling
its load and every second was amazing for Joey as he swallowed it
carefully. He was a little repulsed at the strong flavor and the
brisk scent which permeated his nostrils from inside, but the
idea that he was taking inside something for a man, despite how
bad it might taste, made the bad taste seem like the most
wonderful in the world to the boy, even as he fought not to
reflexively spit the thick cream back up.

He nursed on the cock as it softened, Mr Parish stroking his neck
like a puppy. Joey leaned down, resting his ear against the
inside of Mr Parish's thigh as he continued gently sucking.

They stayed like that for at least five minutes, Joey cleaning up
the shaft and pee slit with his tongue. Then Mr Parish pulled him
back to his seat and they continued to hold each other as they
watched the movie, which Joey seemed to have missed little of.
Had his blowjob really been that fast? It seemed unlikely given
how mind-altering the whole event had been for Joey. He had
learned to be a better cock sucker. He had excited a man so much
as to spill cum into his mouth. That cum was now in his stomach,
and would follow him around for the rest of his life, like one of
those tags on baby seals.

The movie wrapped up and Mr Parish gave Joey a quick kiss on the
lips just before the lights came on. The man in the cowboy hat
*had* been in the movie and exited just before them. He seemed to
grin momentarily at Joey when their eyes met.

.....

"Do you have a grandfather, young Joey?"

It was next Saturday and Joey was lying against Mr Parish's
chest, freshly fucked. Twice-fucked in fact, so happy had Mr
Parish been to see him. The room was bright as usual and the
smell of the man's underarms and skin combined with the fresh
scent of the bedsheets was giving Joey tingles all over.

"I have two."

It occurred to Joey that Mrs Langstrom had changed the sheets
since the last time. She must have seen the tumbled bed and the
wet spots everywhere. How embarrassing.

Mr Parish said, "Are you close?"

"Not really." Joey said. "Grandpa George lives far away and he
only sends me presents and things. Grandpa Phil doesn't get along
with mom at all, so I never see him."

"Would you like a real grandfather then?"

"Um, I don't know. It might be nice. Dad's not always around to
hang out with and he's kinda tough on me sometimes about chores
and grades and things. Having a grandpa to spoil me and goof
around with might be cool."

Mr Parish ran a hand along Joey's thigh, curving over his butt
cheek and making Joey shiver more. The man seemed lost in
thought. Joey enjoyed the magnanimity of his touch for a few
minutes. Then the man gave a little spank to Joey's bottom and
got off the bed, walking around a bean bag chair and a side table
to a desk by one of the large windows.

"Come here," Mr Parish said.

Joey saw a folder on the desk when he got there. His folder. He
opened his mouth to speak, but Mr Parish held up a finger.

"Nico Savelli," said Mr Parish, pulling a page out of the folder.
"Age 68. Height: five feet, eleven inches. Stocky build. He's
been out of jail for eight years now."

He handed the familiar page to Joey. The picture showed a man
with wavy silver hair, parted on one side. He had warm brown eyes
and a smile of half-hidden roguishness. Nico Savelli's nose was
just a bit bulbous, but the overall effect was of a handsome,
dignified man.

Mr Parish sat in the bean bag, and invited Joey to sit onto his
naked lap. Joey obeyed, still looking at the page before him. The
boy settled into the firm, hairy warmth of the man. Mr Parish's
stiff cock pressed against his lower back.

Before them, the colors of the small park next door created a
fuzzy picture of peace through the thin blinds, with the dark
pond, green trees and the grass and walking trail. You could even
tell where the people were.

"Mr Savelli was convicted of molesting his nephew," said Mr
Parish. "He served a five years on a seven-year sentence. In his
life, he's probably had sex with dozens of boys, though there
have been none since his release."

"Wait, there's nothing here about a nephew. Or other boys. It
just says, 'victim was thirteen at the time of offense.'"

"Well, I spoke to him, you see. His address is an old folks home
and he was glad for the company. We had a long talk. He
especially liked hearing about you."

Joey's gut went tight. How could Mr Parish tell a stranger about
him? "What? Why? I don't even know him. How could-"

"Stop being a petulant bitch, Joey."

Mr Parish's words struck Joey dumb with shock.

The man continued, "*You* are the one who printed this man's file
and put him in a list of people you wanted to fuck. You know him
a lot. You probably put some thought into making him one of your
lucky seven, didn't you?

"Yeah, but I have you now. I don't want the others anymore."

"You don't stop wanting something just because you found
something else that works for a while." Mr Parish hugged Joey
closer with one hand and stroked his neck with the other.
"There's something about this man you really like, isn't there,
little Joey?"

"Yes."

"And I suspect its the wholesome grandfather-like air he has. You
want that in your life, don't you?"

"I- I- yes."

"Good, because your new Grandpa Nico is looking forward to
meeting you on Monday."

"Monday!? But- I mean, how?"

But Mr Parish didn't answer. Instead the man lifted Joey's
buttocks and positioned his cock under the boy's asshole. Joey's
feet came down onto the beanbag, his knees high.

"Take a breath, little Joey."

Joey tensed and he breathed in, the top of the cock pressing
firmly against his entrance, but not getting in. Just as he
breathed out a bit, Mr Parish yanked him down. There was little
pain this time with the squatting position and the fast entrance.
He was pulled straight down and then Mr Parish hugged him,
reclining in the bean bag so that Joey's butt was spread wide and
exposed with the thick cock embedded in it.

Joey felt like he could feel the motion of Mr Parish's breathing
all around and inside him. Instead of fucking him, the man just
took deep breaths, letting that natural rise and fall create just
a bit of in and out motion between the boy and the man.

"Grandpa Nico's been in Willow Park Care Home for a long time,"
said Mr Parish. "They lost his documents years ago and the staff
turnover is so high that no one knows he's a sex offender
anymore. Sure, they could see it if they looked online, but why
would they? And his parole officer stopped checking on him too,
because there's so many other guys to worry about and what kid is
old Nico going to molest in a nursing home at his age, right?"

'Me,' thought Joey, adjusting himself around the thick cock
filling him. 'He's going to molest me.' It felt surreal to know
where and when he was going to be violated in two days, even
though he'd never been there and never met the man who was going
to molest him.

"But my parents won't-"

"Mrs Langstrom's going to call them today. Tell them what a
wonderful job you're doing with her garden and that she's
terribly sorry, but she went ahead and promised her lonely old
friend Mr Savelli that she'd bring you around to visit with her
on Monday and could they let you go-"

"Mrs Langstrom's going to take me?!"

"No, you'll ride over yourself. And once you and Mr Savelli get
to know each other, you'll tell your parents that you'll be
visiting him every Monday because he's a great guy with good
stories about-."

"I'll have to go back?"

"Don't interrupt, Joey."

Joey bit his lip. This was so scary. Mr Parish was setting him up
with a stranger and he wasn't being given any choice.

Mr. Parish said, "You'll love your new Grandpa Nico and visit him
every week. It'll be fun. I'm sure the old guy will be happy to
throw in some genuine grandpa stuff to keep the image going.
Maybe take you out for walks and trips to the candy store. Who
knows?"

It would be good to finally have a grandfather he could bond with
Joey thought. Mr. Parish had turned out to be much more than just
a guy who fucked him, after all. Mr. Parish was completely
rearranging his life and helping him learn things he'd never
imagined.

"Um, okay," said Joey.

"Excellent," said Mr. Parish. "Make sure you wear shorts. He's a
great admirer of boys' legs." Then Mr. Parish grabbed him under
his arms and pushed him forward to the window. Joey grabbed the
sill as the man stood behind him and started ramming his large,
stiff cock into the boy's protesting ass.

"Mr. Parish!" Joey said, as he brought the two halves of the thin
curtains together under him. "People will see us."

"They'll see you maybe. But with the blinds, all they will see is
you and your eyes looking weird from getting fucked."

Joey pushed back against the wall as the man starting hammering
him. Outside, the world took no notice as Joey made himself a
willing fucktoy for Mr. Parish. A few people walked by in the
park and no one even looked up except Mr. Crandall's dog.

The pounding in Joey's ass sped up until a panting Mr. Parish
stiffened and spasmed up into him.

The smell of cookies wafted up from below.

......


That Monday, as he biked onto the grounds of the Willow Park
home, Joey thought about the sex at the window. 'How could he
just brace me up against the glass like that?' Sure, no one could
really tell what was happening if they saw, but it was still a
risk. And the same with the theater blow job. And this was the
same Mr. Parish that had been so paranoid when he first met Joey.


The home was clearly for wealthy people. The lawns were flat and
even, with fresh, green grass. It was late Spring and the flowers
were sprouting along the paths. The building had modern glass
doors that fitted well with the old brick-style construction. The
floors were dark and shiny. Probably marble, Joey thought.

The guard didn't even look up when Joey said he wanted to see
Nico Savelli. He just said, "Visitors' lounge is down the hall."

Nico Savelli was not in the main hall. Rather he was outside, in
a shaded courtyard, where four gray-haired men in folding chairs
were smoking cigars at a card table.

"Little Joey!" Nico Savelli shouted. "C'mere and give your
grandpa a hug."

Joey approached the man stiffly, trying to figure out his face.
Nico Savelli was smiling and seemed genuinely happy to see Joey.
'Well, of course he's happy,' Joey thought. 'He thinks he's going
to have sex with me-  He *is* going to have sex with me.' Again
the certainty that this man would be inside his butt was surreal
as Joey offered a handshake.

"Uh, hi, grandpa. I'm glad to mee-"

The old man just used the hand to pull Joey into a big hug.

"Oh, my boy. You're more handsome every time I see you!" Then he
spun Joey towards the others and said, "Isn't he just the most
handsome boy in the world?"

His card partners agreed enthusiastically.

The the man shocked Joey by easily lifting the boy onto his lap.
Grandpa Nico was wearing shorts too. Beneath Joey's bare thighs
the man's hairy legs tickled.

"You know how to play poker?" Grandpa Nico asked.

"Uh, no."

"Well I'll teach you."

And he did. The game was draw poker and Joey had it figured out
before long. The men at the table seemed like old friends joking
around and even included Joey in their conversation from time to
time.

Grandpa Nico's hands were busy too, slipping under Joey's T-shirt
from time to time to stroke his belly or squeezing his thighs.
Under his butt, Joey could feel Grandpa Nico's cock swelling. It
seemed pretty hefty. Again Joey marveled at the idea that he was
here by appointment for that cock to go into his ass.

"Why don't you go get me a drink, little Joey?" Grandpa asked.

"Uh, sure thing, Grandpa."

Joey stepped inside to the refreshment counter. It felt almost
like he had a real grandfather in grandpa Nico, as much as he
could tell from twenty minutes of sitting on his lap. It was cool
to have someone teach him a man's game like poker.

And fetching a drink for grandpa Nico felt right too, like he was
lucky that he had a chance to make his grandpa happy.

The bartender didn't seem to have any problems giving him a gin
and tonic to take back to his grandfather.

Back at the table, grandpa Nico took another twenty minutes to
savor his drink while he won three hands. As he relaxed and Joey
enjoyed the feeling of grandpa Nico around him. The man's flesh
was not as hard as Mr. Parish's, but the softness of the stomach
behind him, gave Joey the right sort of comforting feel. And
grandpa Nico smelled good too, like dry leaves and baby powder.

"Well, gentlemen," said grandpa Nico eventually, "I've got some
cookies up in my room for little Joey, so he and I are leaving.
Cash me out."

There was some friendly grumbling from the table as grandpa Nico
traded in all but one of his chips for cash. The last chip he
flicked at Joey. "That's for you, grandson. For bringing me
luck." Joey looked at the blue chip in his hand, his heart
swelling. He was overcome with the idea that he had brought luck
to his grandpa. Thinking of Nico Savelli as his grandfather
wasn't requiring any effort at this point and this cemented the
idea in Joey's mind.

Grandpa Nico's room was actually a suite, with a kitchen and
living room. Joey was still holding the poker chip as he looked
at the horse paintings on the walls. Behind him, grandpa Nico
locked the door.

"Alright, kid, drop your shorts and bend over the front of the
sofa."

"Wait, what about the cookies?"

"What cookies? I ain't got cookies. I brought you here to fuck
you. Now get on the sofa so I can fuck you. I'll go get the lube
from the bathroom."

Stunned by the man's crudeness, Joey acted in automatic mode, so
attuned to the idea that this really was his grandpa that he
obeyed. How could the man just be so blunt though?

As Joey was pulling one foot out of the shorts grandpa Nico came
back and said, "never mind that. Leave 'em at your ankles. The
orderlies all have room keys, so we might have to get dressed in
a hurry."

Joey must have looked unsure, because the man looked up from
opening his baby oil and said, 'Look, just kneel on the rug and
rest your head on the seat. This isn't complicated, kid. I
thought you've done this before."

Once he had his naked ass in the air, Joey looked back. Grandpa
Nico dropped his trousers. Jutting out from under his shirt,
amidst a bush of white hair, was a plump brown cock, hard and
ready for action.

Joey asked, "Do you, um, well, would you like me to suck it a bit
first?"

"Some other time, little Joey. Right now I just want to feel the
inside of that tight ass." The man breathed out softly as he
knelt between Joey's legs. "Man, that is a nice lookin' ass. So
smooth."

Joey gasped as the man took a meaty handful of his butt and
kneaded it. The boy faced forward, the back of the red couch the
only thing he could see as he waited.

Grandpa Nico pressed a hand down on the center of Joey's
shoulders, putting pressure on the boy's neck as his chin dented
the cushion. Another hand caressed Joey's ass taking little
pinches.

"Such a sweet ass," said grandpa Nico.

Then Joey got a slick finger at his butthole. It was very
businesslike, slipping in steadily and giving him a dozen
twirling strokes. These made Joey gasp and spasm, but with
grandpa Nico holding him down, all he could move was his butt,
which he shifted about reflexively.

"That's it boy. Wriggle that ass for me. Show me you want this
fat cock."

A second finger followed, with the same drilling motion, opening
him up and Joey's body reacted again.

"Yes, little Joey, you are such a whore for men, aren't you? You
can't wait."

As he stared ahead at the details of the couch's fabric,
breathing in the dusty smell of it, Joey wondered how true that
was. He did want this. His cock was hard and as much as he
regretted losing the friendly grandpa from the card table, he was
looking forward to the man's fat cock up his ass.

The preliminaries were soon over when a third finger had helped
open Joey up. The blunt head of grandpa Nico's cock was soon
pressing against Joey's hole. The oil worked and the head popped
in.

"Ooouhgh," grunted Joey from the sharp pain.

Grandpa Nico just kept going, sliding the well-oil prick right up
Joey's chute in one motion.

"Ouuuhhhuugggggh." Joey gritted his teeth as the pain flared then
ebbed into a throbbing sensation of being full. From his time
with Mr. Parish, he was used to being fucked, but the cock still
felt like an intruder imposing itself on Joey.

Immediately, Nico started ramming him. All the thoughts Joey had
arrived with at Willow Park evaporated. He forgot all about the
warm grandfatherly fucking he'd hoped for. He forgot about poker
and the sense of belonging. He was now on his knees taking a cock
up his ass and the man and boy were stripped down to their
essential relationship: fucker and fuckee.

Joey was the slut. The whore. The servant to men's lust.

Joey took his new grandfather's cock willingly, pleased to be
giving the man use of it. Each thrust into his ass, made him
"Ouugh" happily.

The man didn't seem to want anything fancy. He held Joey's hips
and just drove his cock in again and again, gaining speed as he
became more excited. Eventually the hard cock was coming halfway
out of Joey's ass and sliding right back in and poking him in the
guts at a frantic rate and Joey felt the man's thrusting get
stiff and jerky.

"Ooohh yeaah!" whispered Grandpa Nico at no one in particular.
"Oh yeaah. Ooooh yeeah. Take it, boy. Take it."

The old man came with a series of big, ramming thrusts into Joey.
The boy braced himself against the back of the couch, his knees
sore from rugburn.  He had a brief feeling of triumph as he felt
Grandpa Nico yelling in orgasm and then the man rested his weight
on top of him.

As he knelt there, covered by the old man's panting body, Joey
marveled at the idea that he'd just taken another man's semen up
inside him. He could picture it deep in his guts, all slimy and
white. 'I'm a slut now,' Joey thought. He hadn't stopped at just
one man. And he wasn't going to stop at just two either, he knew.
He was in a new world now, a world where Joey's life was about
pleasing men.

Grandpa Nico pulled himself up and out of Joey, the boy feeling a
pang of regret as the still-hefty cock popped out. He looked up
at the jangle of Grandpa Nico's belt buckle to see the man
pulling on his trousers.

Joey stood and followed suit, his ass still slick and loose.

"Um, are we done?" Joey asked.

"You felt me cum up your little ass didn't you?"

Joey was stunned at the idea that he was being dismissed, like a
waiter who had brought the food and wasn't needed anymore. He
said, "But- I mean, the poker game is still going on and-"

"Nah, I'm just going to soak in the sauna for a bit and relax.
Playtime's over."

"I could join you."

Grandpa Nico shook his head. "Not today, little Joey. Maybe next
time. Don't worry kid, you'll get more of Grandpa Nico's cock
next week. But you did your job and my knob's been polished, so
it's time for you to get going."

That night, at dinner, Megan and her boyfriend were over for
dinner. Matthew heard about Joey's trip with Mrs. Langstrom to
visit her friend at Willow Park and was predictably dour.

"Old folks shouldn't be warehoused like that in institutions,"
Matthew said. "They should be allowed to end their lives with
dignity. Euthanasia should be allowed. Probably even mandatory
for some of them. It would have to be better than that life."

"But they have a great life," Joey said. "I mean, they hang out
and have fun. They play poker and have a sauna and-"

"Joey," said his father, "I do hope you won't be overdoing it on
these visits of yours. I'm sure these folks have a lot of life in
them but they may be too frail to keep up with you."

Joey couldn't imagine frail ever being used to describe Grandpa
Nico and the way the man had powerfully fucked him on that couch.
He was sure that the old man was going to be giving him many more
vigorous Monday afternoon workouts.

Henry arrived soon after, since Megan and Matthew were taking
them along on a double date. It was his parents' idea since they
felt that the boys would essentially function as chaperones.

Henry asked for tickets to a weepy romantic comedy, starring his
dream guy actor. It was just the thing Matthew abhorred as
'mindless entertainment for the masses.' He shook his head at the
boys and said, "Your sister is right. You two really are a couple
of faggots." While Henry and Joey watched their comedy, Henry
swooning over the manly lead and how sweet he was, Megan and
Matthew sat four rows away, making out loudly enough that they
could still be heard.

......

It was a confusing week for Joey, thinking about how he'd been
used by Grandpa Nico. He had another movie date with Mr. Parish
that week, but they spent the whole time talking about the movie,
with a quick blowjob thrown in. Joey thought he saw the same man
with the cowboy hat from before as they were leaving, but he
couldn't be sure.

On Saturday, after a wild fuck, Mr. Parish took Joey downstairs
into Mrs. Langstrom's den to watch tennis. The Barcelona Open was
on and that pleased Joey to no end, since he was a tennis
fanatic. He cuddled up to Mr. Parish on the couch as they
watched.

"Something bothering you?" Mr. Parish asked.

"No, why do you ask?"

"Because you seem kind of distracted. And you were distracted on
Tuesday too. Did something happen at the retirement home?"

With a sigh, Joey said, "Yeah. But it's not important."

"Tell me. I'm curious to hear about how that all went anyway."

"Well, it was a lot of fun at first," said Joey who explained
about Nico treating him like a real grandson while they were at
the poker table. "But then he took me to his room and it was like
all he cared about was getting his cock in my ass. He wasn't mean
or anything, but he got right down to fucking and after it was
done, it was like I didn't matter to him."

"But you enjoyed the sex?"

"Yeah," Joey admitted. "The thing is though, I don't
understand...was he only pretending all the time or did he really
like me as his grandson and just get carried away when we got to
sex?"

"Does it matter in the end?" Mr Parish asked.

"Yeah, it does. I want him to like me."

"Listen to me, Joey." The man's eyes burned blue as Joey looked
up. 'You're a slut. The fact that you're a boy slut is secondary
to the reality that you are a slut. It doesn't matter if the men
who use you like you. All that matters is that you satisfy their
cocks."

A twinge of guilt ran through the boy at losing his place. Of
course the most important thing was if Grandpa Nico had a good
time. It was kind of selfish to think that the old guy had to
like him into the bargain.

Mr. Parish was still looking at him. "You get what I'm telling
you?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Then the man relaxed and smiled a bit. "Now that you
mention it though, I like you quite a bit, so there's that."

"You do?!" Joey almost jumped onto the man's lap in his
excitement.

"Yeah." Mr. Parish put a friendly hand around Joey's waist.
"You're a smart kid, polite, and you seem to understand a lot
about life and who you are. You're creative,
hardworking...there's a lot to like there."

Joey felt like his chest would burst from the praise.

"Wow, I don't know what to say."

"Good. Because I'd much rather you use your mouth for more
entertaining things. Why don't you kneel on the carpet and blow
me for the rest of the match?"

"But I'll miss-"

"Joey?" admonished Mr. Parish with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

But as he unbuttoned Mr. Parish, his knees on the floor, Joey
froze as another realization hit him. Mrs. Langstrom was still in
the kitchen. She had brought cookies in earlier and even spoken a
bit with Joey about how well her garden looked. Having her walk
in on them in the upstairs bedroom was one thing, but to give a
blowjob right out in the open like it was just the most normal
thing in the world?

"What is it now?" Mr. Parish sounded frustrated.

"Mrs. Langstr-"

"Joey?" Mr. Parish rebuked him again.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

And just like that, Joey found himself going down on the thick
hard cock of a man four times his age in the middle of an old
lady's house while Saturday afternoon passed them by outside. The
boy soon found himself in a rhythm, enjoying the feel of the big
cock in his mouth as he slobbered and sucked, the grunting sounds
of the tennis coming from the TV behind him.

He had assumed that the man would enjoy his game as Joey serviced
him, but the man spoke: "How did it make you feel, Joey?"

Joey's first reaction was, 'I can't talk! I'm busy sucking your
cock.' But the man lifted Joey's head off the cock head.

"How did what feel?"

"When your new grandpa stopped treating you like a boy and
started treating you like a cunt?"

"I..."

"Betrayed?"

"A little, yeah. Maybe."

The man pushed Joey's head back onto his cock, but the strange
conversation was only just starting. After guiding Joey's lips up
and down a while, Mr. Parish said, "When he had you at that table
with his friends, you forgot you were a cunt, didn't you?" The
man did not let Joey answer right away. Instead, he kept Joey
working his cock.

'He's giving me time to think,' Joey realized. 'He wants me to
feel all that stuff all over again while he enjoys it.'

When the man let him up and looked down at him expectantly, Joey
said, "Yes. I forgot. I was actually kind of surprised when he
said he was taking me to his room, and I actually had to think
for a while to remember that I had gone there to give him sex."

Mr. Parish pressed Joey back into his crotch, the cock spiking
into his throat.

Again, Mr. Parish let him suck on his cock for a while before
asking the next question. "How does it make you feel, little
Joey, to know that men think of you as a place to shoot their
load? A sperm receptacle?"

Joey considered the idea as he kept sucking, then answered when
Mr. Parish let him. "Well, it kinda hurts, like knowing I'm not
as good as them, but then it also feels good because I know that
they need boys like me to be sluts for them and I have a
purpose."

Mr. Parish grunted, like he approved the answer, but put Joey
back to work sucking. Finally, the man asked, "When you realized
he was done with you, that you meant no more to him than a cum
rag, did it hit you all at once, or did it take you a while to
sink in?"

Joey almost stopped sucking at the comparison. Was that really
all he was to men? This was what Mr. Parish wanted of course,
Joey realized, for Joey to dwell on his position, on how he was a
sexual servant. The man's cock was harder than ever. He was
getting off on Joey's humiliation. Mr. Parish allowed Joey a
chance to speak and the boy said, "It was gradual. His body
language was kind of distant as soon as he was done. And his tone
of voice was more like...I could tell something was wrong and- I
tried to get him interested in me again, and it wasn't working
and I was almost panicking because I was hoping he'd go back to
being the nice Grandpa Nico after he fucked me and instead he
seemed more like he didn't care."

Joey went back to blowing Mr. Parish as the man considered his
next question. "So you were humiliated. How did that humiliation
affect you?"

Joey reached back in his mind to that afternoon, when Nico fucked
him and left him kneeling there unfulfilled. "I felt small. Like
he was some kind of lord over me and I had no rights-"

"And how did you react to that?"

"I...I was kind of excited. Like being small was who I was
supposed to be."

"You were accepting your place as a slut, little Joey."

"Um, maybe."

"Yes." Mr. Parish grabbed Joey's head and made a deep thrust in.
The man had reached his orgasm and he clearly wanted Joey to take
it all. The boy obliged. "Yes, Joey, you're a slut. My slut. My
sweet little slut."

And as he grunted and groaned, the man shot his heavy juice into
Joey's mouth. The boy struggled hard to swallow as he kept
sucking, taking time to appreciate the sharp taste as it slid
down his tongue and past his throat.

After a dozen spurts, the cock went quiet, but Joey kept
suckling, and Mr. Parish indulged him, letting the boy stay that
way, on his knees with his face in the man's crotch as Mr. Parish
finished watching the game.

Joey got fucked again twice that afternoon, upstairs. Then,
before he left, Mr. Parish showed him another file. "Your next
client."

Joey protested, "But Grandpa Nico said-"

"You'll still be going there. On Monday. Don't worry. But on
Tuesday, keep your calendar free."



Chapter 3

Joey was supposed to meet a man named William Lopez at the county
airstrip. In the distance, Joey could see the control tower as he
rode up the narrow road on his bike. No cars passed by. Lopez was
thirty years old and had been convicted of possessing kiddie porn
four years earlier when he had been a youth preacher. He had
gotten out on parole and found a job easily with the demand for
air traffic controllers.

The man had never actually had sex with a boy. Joey would be his
first. Joey had never been anyone's first, so there was a little
tingle in his butt at the idea. Or maybe it was just lingering
discomfort over the fucking Grandpa Nico had given him the day
before, during Joey's second visit.

The visit had gone about the same as before. Joey had enjoyed it
a lot more, knowing from the start how he was going to be treated
and accepting his role as Nico's cum dump. But the card game and
hanging with Nico's gang of friends while everyone treated him
like an honored grandkid was fun too. As he rode towards the
airport, Joey felt he was happy with how the Nico visits were
going.

In the distance, a white van raised dust, coming his way at some
speed.  It was actually kind of desolate out here. The new
airport over at the city had taken most of the clients away in
the last five years, so only a few hobbyists  and rich
businessmen used this outlying strip any more. Mr. Parish had
told Joey to dress nice, so he was wearing dark blue slacks,
dress shoes and a freshly-ironed short-sleeved shirt. He'd combed
his hair too, even adding some gel to keep it neat.

The van was not slowing down at all. Joey pulled off the roadside
to give it space and put his head down to avoid the flying dust
it was sure to bring. Instead of a 'whoosh', however, there was a
squealing of brakes. Joey looked up in alarm just in time to see
that the driver was wearing a mask. Then the van stopped right
next to him. The big door was open and another masked man was
hanging out of it. He lifted the stunned boy easily off his bike
and pinned him chest-first onto the van's floor in one smooth
action.

Joey struggled to get his bearings as the van accelerated off.
The man in the back said in a raspy growl, "Don't struggle and
you won't get hurt."

Joey wasn't sure he believed that, but there seemed to be little
choice for him. The man grabbed his neck and slipped a hood over
him, ending all his thoughts of fighting as the drawstring pulled
tight. Joey felt flexible, narrow restraints hobble his wrists
and ankles. Probably those plastic handcuffs he'd seen police
use.

The ride was short, less than fifteen minutes, with the man's
knees pressed onto his spine the whole way. The men said nothing
to each other, but the nature if their intentions was clear from
the way the man on him was constantly feeling Joey up, sliding
his hand up his back, around his chest and down to squeeze his
ass.

The kidnapper's voice carried a tense edge of lust and danger.
"Gawd, you're such a pretty boy. You're so fucking perfect."

When the van stopped, Joey was lifted out and carried up two
flights of stairs before being dropped onto a bed. He tried to
sit up, but the man grabbed Joey's arms and pinned him to the
mattress, sitting on Joey's stomach.

There was a distinct smell of manly sweat as the kidnapper above
him leaned forward.

"Don't move," he told Joey. "I've got a knife in my hands."

The man cut open the zip ties holding Joey's hands. Immediately,
Joey aimed a punch at where he guessed the man's head to be. He
connected, but had no other effect.

"Hey!" said the man in anger. "I told you I had a fucking knife.
You want to get hurt, you little sumbitch?" The man let go of
Joey's wrists and pulled the hood off the boy.

His kidnapper was the cowboy from the movie theater!

The man above Joey was tall. He wore a red, checkered shirt with
the sleeves torn off in a jagged line at the shoulders. His arms
looked strong, but not bulky. He held a hunting knife in his
right hand. His dark blond hair was pulled back in a long
ponytail and a tan cowboy hat sat on his head. Blond stubble
covered his jaw and under squinty lids were intense gray eyes. It
took Joey half-a-moment more to realized the man looked just a
little crazy because his left eye was slightly crossed to the
inside.

"I know you," said Joey.

"Not as good as you're gonna know me, you little slut."

The man leaned down and kissed Joey full on the lips.

Joey squirmed out of the way, but the man kept coming at him,
holding Joey's face jaw with his left hand as he stuck his wet
tongue against Joey's tightly shut lips. Underneath the sweaty
smell was another aroma, not unpleasant, but raw and masculine,
and it made Joey feel alert.

The man pulled back and said, "I was going to cut your clothes
off you, but you wriggle too much." The man threw the knife to
the floor with a clatter.

At first Joey had some hope that his resistance had discouraged
the man from raping him. Instead, the cowboy just grabbed Joey's
shirt in the middle and ripped it open, popping the buttons. The
man ripped open the bottom half too, pulling the shirt out of the
pants.

"You're such a dirty boy. You dress like a church angel, but
underneath, you're just a little slut who wants cock, aren't
you?"

"No! Please! Don't do this!" Everything was suddenly more real
for Joey now that he was losing his clothes. He was going to be
naked. He was going to be raped!

The man above him kept knocking away Joey's arms when he tried to
fight back. The boy was just too small. The shirt Mr. Parish had
given him came apart bit by bit.

When the cowboy grabbed Joey's belt, the boy made one last surge
of effort to escape. The man managed to corral both his slim
wrists in one strong hand and pinned them above Joey's head. He
unbuckled Joey's belt, then unzipped the squirming boy.

Joey had been riding his bike just a little while ago, all
innocently, and now his pants were being pulled right off him.
Well, not all innocently. He had been on his way to get fucked by
a stranger. But he'd been willing. This was different somehow.
Maybe it was the fact that he never had a chance to say
yes-didn't even know this man. Maybe it was knowing that this man
had stalked him for weeks like prey that made him feel like he
was being victimized. Maybe it was the sheer animalistic
suddenness of it that scared him.

With Joey's pants gone, the cowboy rolled him onto his front,
still keeping a firm grip on his wrists. A rough palm slid under
Joey's underwear caressing his butt. He felt more violated by
that one uninvited action than by his first time taking Mr.
Parish's dick in his ass.

The man growled, "I've been dreaming about an ass like this for
ten years."

Joey continued to squirm as the man yanked his briefs down and
then off.

The cowboy sat on Joey's lower back, pinning him. He let go of
Joey's arms. Joey looked back and saw the cowboy's eyes looking
crazier than ever as he undid his belt and jeans with a jangling
noise. Joey couldn't turn his head enough to see the cock that
was released, but he felt it soon enough.

As the man dropped his jeans down to his bent knees, he leaned
over Joey and the hard, hot cock nestled into Joey's ass cleft,
slick with eagerness. He curled one arm around Joey's panting
chest and used the other to line up the stiff rod with the boy's
quivering butt hole.

Joey was too scared and paralyzed to say anything.

He did wonder why his little cock was hard. That didn't make
sense. Joey didn't want this? Did he?

Then his mind became incapable of thought. The cowboy's thick
cock head broke into him and he screamed. This was the worst pain
of his life. Not just the sensation of being rammed in his tiny
ass by a massive cock, but knowing that he was being used and
taken against his will. That there was more to come and that
there was no escape.

Joey's vision blurred and burned as tears ran down his cheeks.

The man held Joey's body close with both arms now and rammed his
cock into him an inch at a time, with jagged thrusts. Each
hammering push felt like it had taken him to his limits,
spreading him wider and more indecently than he had ever
imagined. He knew he was still screaming, but no sound was coming
out any more. His breath was gone.

With a last flurry of urgent grinding, the cowboy finally seated
himself all the way inside Joey, his dense, wiry pubes scraping
against the boy's smooth ass.

And immediately the man was pulling back and fucking Joey. The
withdrawal eased the stretched pain of his passage at first. But
the cowboy levered himself as he held Joey tight then fucked
right back into the boy. A second thrust followed. Then a third.
And a fourth. Each one feeling like a whole new assault on Joey's
tender flesh.

And it came more and more rapidly as the man's slick shaft plowed
away Joey's resistance. His young body had started out rigid with
panic, but it slid into slack limpness under the battering of the
cowboy's cock. Each fuck stroke seemed to strike Joey in the gut
like a punch. All he could do now was lie there and take it.

But the cowboy wasn't going to let him off that easily. "You
slut," he snarled in Joey's ear. "You make me so horny. You love
making me lose control like this, don't you?" And then the man
grabbed Joey by his upper arms. His hands were not much larger
than average, but they were strong and felt like the talons of an
eagle holding Joey at the mercy of its owner's predatory
appetites. The man pressed Joey into the mattress as he squeezed
his arms. Pinned, Joey felt the intensity of the fucking in his
ass build even more.

His hole was raw and each sliding touch of the shaft across his
inflamed ring hurt. The stretched and torn feeling throbbed
inside his passage.

And his cock was rock hard.

In fact, Joey was about to cum.

Since starting his sexual adventures that fateful day in Mrs.
Langstrom's bath tub, Joey had not cum during sex. The few
occasions when Mr. Parish has sucked on Joey's little dick had
been only foreplay. Joey had jacked-off like crazy on the nights
after his encounters with Mr. Parish and Grandpa Nico, having
tremendous orgasms.

But never during the act.

Getting raped was making Joey so horny that he was cumming. He
fought it in his mind. He knew he hadn't asked for this. Despite
what the man said about Joey being a slut who teased men, the man
plowing him had no right to just take Joey like this. But knowing
that it was happening anyway, whether Joey wanted it or not, only
made the feelings more intense.

All through Joey's pain-wracked body, an electric surge of joy
and release bubbled up. He stiffened and his thighs, hips and
stomach spasmed. As he came, his ass grasped at the cock fucking
into his ass and the cowboy started panting, "Oh yeah. Show me
you love this, baby. C'mon, little Joey, lemme feel that ass work
for it. Show me you love me."

The thrill of orgasm rose and peaked and then slowly ebbed out of
Joey. His body was limp again, spent. But the cowboy was only
just getting into the swing of things. He licked Joey's ear with
on obscenely wet tongue as he kept up his vigorous, merciless
ravishing of Joey's asshole.

Joey felt like he was floating free, breathing in the aroma of
sex and the cowboy's unique scent. The pain and pleasure had
mingled into a feeling of lightness. He could hardly tell one
from the other. While his body went slacker and slacker, his mind
was lit up like a christmas tree on fire.

And now the cowboy was coming too. His motions became jerky and
and his breath was bursting against Joey's neck as he panted.
Knowing that the man was cumming in his backside triggered a
second cum for Joey. It was surreal to know that he'd been
plucked of a street, thrown on a bed and rudely fucked in the ass
by a man he didn't even know. It was exciting in the purest, most
untamed sense of the word. And that made Joey hot, the feel of
being subject to unbridled sexual energy. To be the
victim/recipient/beneficiary of all the lust and hunger a man
could have.

He stiffened all over again and trembled, his cock hard. Through
the blur of his orgasm he felt the man above him ramming into him
as the cowboy surged through his own cum, sating his appetite
with Joey's body, using it as a boy was never meant to be used,
yet making Joey feel so very much in his place.

As he grunted less and less intensely, the man eased his fucking
and then stopped. He released his hold on Joey's skinny arms and
let his weight fall on the boy. Joey was sandwiched between the
man's chest and the bed, loosely wrapped in the man's arms.

'I've just been raped,' he thought to himself. 'A man just raped
me. I need to get away and call the police. I have to-'

Have to what? How could he explain this to the police? 'Yes,
officer, I was on my way to get buttfucked by a man I don't know
when this other man I don't know pulled me aside and buttfucked
me. What's that? Of *course* it matters which stranger fucked
me!'

He wasn't a stupid kid. He knew the police would still charge the
cowboy for rape. But he also knew that his secret would be out.
No matter what, everyone would know him for a shameless slut.

But it *did* matter that the cowboy had forced him against his
will, didn't it? Even if Joey *was* a slut, he should still be
the one choosing who to service.

The rapist eased back, pulling his wet, softening tool free of
Joey. For a moment, Joey tensed his legs for escape, but the
cowboy put a firm hand on the back of Joey's neck, keeping his
nose to the mattress. The man sat alongside Joey, keeping his
grip and backed up to the head of the bed, leaning against the
carved wooden board there. He pulled his jeans off and sat with
his legs splayed.

With shock and dismay, Joey realized his ordeal was not over.
"Come clean this mess you made," said the man. "You made me cum
inside your ass, you can't just leave me all slimy like this."
The man pull Joey's lips to his lap, easily overcoming the boy's
resistance. The side of his face smushed into the soft, wet tube
of the cowboy's cock. He jerked back and wiped at his cheek with
the back of his hand. A string of clear fluid connected his hand
to his cheek.

"Lick him," ordered the cowboy, centering Joey's face over the
cock and pressing his head down so that his lips slid along the
organ. It created an odd feeling in Joey. In the front of his
mind, he was disgusted at the sticky, slick grossness of it all.
But the back of his brain was pumping with excitement and a
feeling of being alive. 'More!' it screamed.

His raw emotion won and Joey stretched his tongue out. He scooped
a dribble of thick cum from the side of the man's cock. The taste
was sharp, like Mr. Parish's, but a felt more complicated,
somehow. Like there was extra darkness in it.

The door behind Joey clicked open. There had been a second man
driving the van, Joey now remembered. He made to turn around and
the cowboy's hands pressed him down. "You keep doing your work,"
he told the boy. "Your ass'll do fine without you needin' to pay
it any attention."

Fear thudded in Joey's chest. He was about to be raped again. And
the cowboy's cock was getting hard once more. He'd sometimes
wondered about getting double teamed, but he'd never had the
courage to ask Mr. Parish if he'd bring in one of the men on the
sex convict list to make it happen. And now he was going to have
it forced on him.

And he wouldn't even get to see who was fucking him up the ass.

He felt it though. The man didn't even try to warm him up or
anything. There was a shifting of the bed as the man climbed on
and then a warm touch of knees against the insides of Joey's legs
and BOOM, the man rammed his big, hard cock all the way into
Joey.

With his mouth pressed against the side of the  cowboy's
stiffness, Joey made only a muffled cry of protest. The cowboy
took that as his cue to stuff the boy's mouth, holding his
cockhead at Joey's lips and pressing it inside. The cock was too
wide to fit comfortably in Joey's mouth. As he struggled with the
hot pain in his back channel, he fought to keep his teeth from
the cowboy's skin and to fit him inside. The flesh was warm and
throbbing. With a few inches inside, the man loosened his grip on
Joey's head, signaling that he wanted Joey to take over. Joey
sucked tentatively, then more and more enthusiastically.

The cock in Joey's ass soon felt surprisingly pleasurable,
probably because he'd gotten opened up by the cowboy's wild
fucking. The sensation was actually a comfortable familiarity at
this point. His anal rapist kept things steady, though brisk, so
Joey could concentrate on the cock in his mouth.

With his lips sealed around the middle of the shaft, Joey sucked,
stroking the underside of the meat with his tongue from time to
time. The man in his ass sped up and came, and that knowledge,
plus the feel of being in his first spit roast, was enough to put
Joey over the edge one more time. But it was almost like the
physical sensation was just a byproduct of the real thrill in his
head. The knowledge of being used and being forced to serve was
like what Joey imagined drugs would feel like. As the orgasm left
his body and the body of the man fucking him, Joey kept up his
worshipful sucking, savoring the taste and feel and smell. As the
cock in his ass withdrew, Joey kept going, feeling more than ever
like he was in his element.

The cowboy groaned and held Joey's head below the ears. Then the
huge cock in his mouth stiffened and pulsed and a fountain of
warm cream erupted into Joey's grateful mouth. He swallowed and
sucked, sucked and swallowed. Until it was all gone.

Even when the cowboy took his softening cock out of his mouth,
Joey refused to end his service, laying his cheek on the inside
of the cowboy's thigh and licking at the bulges and spaces of his
crotch.

The cowboy stroked Joey's hair in a surprisingly gentle action.
And Joey felt comforted like he never had before in his life.

After about five minutes of this, the cowboy spoke to the man
behind Joey. "Well, Doc, you were sure as fuck right about this
kid. He took it and he loved it."

Doc?

Joey turned. Mister Parish was the other rapist. He sat at the
foot of the bed with an amused expression on his face.

"Hello, little Joey," his said. "Enjoy your first rape?"

"I...but...bu- But I didn't want this. I didn't-"

"Stop, okay?" said Mr. Parish in a commanding voice. Then with a
bit of sympathy, he added, "I know that this was a bit harsh for
you, but I had my reasons."

'A bit?' Joey wondered, still unable to actually speak. 'Rape
isn't 'a bit' of anything. It's a lot.'

The cowboy swung his legs off the bed in a lazy motion and rose.
"I need some whiskey," he said, walking out, his firm ass flexing
as he moved. "You want anything, Doc?"

"I'm fine," said Mr. Parish. Then he turned to Joey and said,
"Turn over let me examine you."

After a brief flicker of distrust, Joey did so and soon felt the
doctor pressing at the outsides of his anus with a gentle finger.
With his other hand, the former doctor stroked Joey's back,
comforting him. "Listen, Joey," he said, "I'm sorry this wasn't
all that great an experience for you. I know you had to feel
genuinely scared for a lot of it. But it was the only way to make
it work."

"Make what work?"

"You are a special boy, Joey. A slut who loves being used by men.
But some men have special needs. My friend, Sean...he was my cell
mate for a while, he's one of those men that has very specific
needs."

"The cowboy?" Joey asked, turning over and looking up at Mr.
Parish. The man's face was thoughtful and Joey could see he was
trying hard to win him over.

"Yes," said Mr. Parish. "Sean isn't like me. He's not a guy who
falls in love with boys and seduces them or falls into
friendships with them and has sex as part of a relationship. Sean
loves dominating a boy. He needs it. He gets this thrill out of
taking a boy against his will."

"He's a rapist?"

"In every sense of the word, yes." said Mr. Parish. "He's not a
nice guy deep down inside. But he's trying to live right you
see..."

"He just raped *me*." Joey looked apprehensively through the
door. He could hear Sean the cowboy moving around outside. He
also got a good look at the room they were in. It was bare, with
ragged carpeting. Three large cracks ran through the stained
concrete from the edge of the lone window.

"Did he?" asked Mr. Parish.

"Of course he did. I told him not to. I *begged* him not to. And
he held me down and..." Joey sniffed back tears remembering how
powerless he had felt.

"Sweet little Joey," said Mr. Parish, kissing him on the
forehead. "It had to be you."

"Why?"

"Because you gave control of your sex life over to me. In a way
you had already consented."

"But I didn't know that he-"

"No. Which is why you were perfect. Sean needed a boy who would
struggle. He needed a boy who would be a victim. He's went to
prison ten years ago. And he's been out for a few years now,
holding himself back, but always on the edge. Always close to
losing control and grabbing some poor innocent kid and ruining
him." Mr. Parish squeezed Joey's hand reassuringly. "It's been
building up and you gave him a way to let that all out of his
system knowing that he wasn't really raping anyone."

The implication that he was not innocent hurt Joey, though he
knew it to be true. And how was it not really rape? It had sure
felt like rape.

Mr. Parish said, "I can see you're going to need some time to
think this over before you understand. I'll get you dressed and
take you for some food and get you home."

Joey let Mr. Parish stand him up and put on his clothes
automatically. Mr. Parish had a T-shirt to replace the shirt Sean
had destroyed.

"What's this?" said the cowboy's gruff voice from the doorway. "I
thought we were going to have round two before we let him go?"

Joey's brain panicked at the idea of being raped again and he
squeezed against Mr. Parish's side.

"He's not up for it," said Mr. Parish, smoothing Joey's hair into
place.

Sean looked disappointed and grunted before taking a sip from his
glass and walking them down to the front door. Joey kept to the
other side of Mr. Parish, away from Sean, as they walked down the
stairs. They were in an abandoned warehouse Joey realized. The
'bedroom' had actually been an office.

Just as Joey was about to gratefully slide out the exit, Sean
said softly, "Kid...Joey."

The boy turned to face the man who had raped him.

Sean had a sheepish expression on his face as he said, "Um, I
know I put you through a lot and maybe it wasn't right what I
done, but I want you to know that I'm grateful. This thing today,
it really helped me. I don't want to go back to being who I was."
The man's crazy eyes seemed just a little calmer, but the lustful
intensity was still there.

Being thanked for something he did against his will seemed
perverse to Joey. He just nodded his head, eyes down, simply
wanting to get going.

.....

Dinner that night was painful. Not just the residual throbbing of
Joey's torn-up anus, but also that feeling of wanting to confess,
to plead with his family to see what was happening to him and
rescue him.

Matthew gave him a few suspicious looks as he fidgeted. "You
okay, Joey?" he asked suspiciously. "You seem edgy."

Joey wanted to yell, 'No, I was raped today! And the guy plans to
rape me again!' Instead, he said, "Yeah. I'm just worried about
the state of the world. You know, global warming, economic
meltdown, cultural degeneration."

Those were buzzwords Matthew liked to throw around and he seemed
unsure if Joey was mocking him or not. He finally grunted and
went back to eating his peas.

The grunt reminded Joey of the feeling of the cowboy above him.
For a second, an image of Matthew raping him flashed through
Joey's mind and he felt his cock twitch. Is this how it was going
to be? Was he going to wonder how it felt to be raped by every
man he met?



E-mail comments to johnsmuttxxx@gmail.com

To be continued in Chapter 4...