Jake was full of cock, just the way he liked it. Kneeling on all fours he accepted the tiny straw from one of the cackling braying men and snorted a long line of cocaine off the shaft that bobbed beneath his face.
“More,” he demanded in a childish petulant voice.
Another line was tipped delicately over the swollen erection and Jake inhaled then licked up the remnants with slow swipes of his tongue.
“Oh yeah, little slut, get to work on me now.”
Jake swallowed the cock; licking, lapping, working him expertly towards orgasm.
“Fuck me harder, that’s so good.” It was a cliched phrase but it always did the trick. Not that Jake wasn’t enjoying himself, but with this many johns at the party he didn’t want any of them to last too long. He needed to be well enough to earn more money tomorrow.
Floating on a coke high, he was lifted, penetrated and fucked face up, face down, facing any direction. It didn’t really matter to him long as he got enough of the folding stuff at the end of the night.
When his clients were too spent and too stoned to fuck him anymore they played with the array of toys, fastening him into cuffs, tightening leather bindings around his cock Feeding him nosefuls of cocaine until he was laughing like a kid and fucking him with dildos and vibrators until he came and came and came. It was his specialty; he was young enough to have a permanent erection and an everlasting supply of spunk.
This may be their party but it was his birthday. Jake giggled at the thought. He never imagined he’d spend his sixteenth birthday being screwed to oblivion in the back room of an exclusive men only club in Soho.
Another hour and they were done with him. Jake showered away the spunk and greased his sore nipples and arse with some antiseptic ointment. Christ he was shattered. The high was diminishing, leaving him with that flat feeling and as he adjusted his nipple rings and removed the chain he looked in the mirror and for the first time realised just how low he’d sunk. He grinned. It was a good feeling.
Gelling up his blue black hair and applying a subtle line of kohl around his eyes, Jake pulled on a pair of slashed PVC jeans and his ‘bitch’ muscle shirt then zipped up his rucksack. Time to find Mr Party Planner and get paid. Kicking on his buckle boots he opened the door and scanned the crowd for the guy who’d hired him. The bloke was sat at the bar exchanging deep meaningful glances with a glass of whisky.
Jake shimmied over and threw his rucksack onto the floor. “We agreed on five hundred,” he said, holding out his hand in a determined manner. He had to act positive or he’d be sure to get shafted all over again.
“That was before you drank and snorted away half of your earnings, kid. You’ve been in the game long enough to know better than that.”
Jake fingered the knife in his pocket. If needs be he’d lure the cheating bastard some place quiet with the promise of a blow then get the fucking money off him one way or another but to start off with he’d play nice. “’S’my birthday, man, gimme a break and I’ll maybe give you a little something in return.”
The man looked up at him pupils wide with lust or maybe it was dope, you could never be too sure. “I’m Carter, what’s your name? Jake isn’t it?”
Jake nodded and shook the outstretched hand.
“How many men fucked you tonight, pretty boy?”
Jake traced a finger over the tattoo on his arm trying to count cocks in his head. He looked up at the guy who was grinning and stroking his goatee.
“Was at least twenty in that party. Means you only charge twenty five for a cock up your arse. You’re a cheap little slag aren’t you?”
“Well pay this cheap little slag the money you owe him and let him fuck off out of here.” Jake rolled his eyes and jutted his hip to the right.
“Don’t bother playing the wounded queen, baby. I’ll pay you don’t you worry but I wanna see if we can do a little business first.”
Jake felt Carter’s eyes glide over his body like fingertips. “I done all the business I’m going to tonight.”
“You and me could get a nice little earner going, Jake. I have connections you know.” Carter slipped his hand inside Jake’s shirt and stroked the boy’s skin.
“Gray gets me enough gigs, thanks all the same.”
“Grayson’s nothing but a low class pimp. Do you wanna be stuck being his low class whore for the rest of your life?”
Carter carried on caressing Jake’s side and fed him a mouthful of bourbon from his shot glass. “Don’t you want to earn real money, Jakey? Money like these footballers earn. Thousands of pounds just for playing around with some balls.”
Carter grinned and Jake felt as if he was falling inside this dark-haired, sloe-eyed man with the muscle-bound body and a voice that drifted over him like strands of silk.
“You’re worth a thousand quid a fuck aren’t you, baby? You should charge so much more to run your pretty little tongue over those punters’ stinking cocks. I know your value, Jakey. I can give you whatever you want.”
The whiskey warmed Jake’s stomach and heart and he found himself slithering up against the man, straddling his thighs and pressing his overheated face to cool delicately scented skin. Carter had wriggled his way into Jake’s innermost thoughts. He did want to move on. He wasn’t gonna end up some two bit crack-whore, happy to bend over for one hit from a pipe. Not him, he was better than that.
“Come down to my office…”
“Said the spider to the fly,” grinned Jake. Carter leered back at him and the boy shivered as icicle chills dripped down his spine making his nipples harden and his cock begin to fill. Jake had always loved danger. He hadn’t become a whore for any reason other than greed and a fascination with the dark side. He pressed his lips to Carter’s for one swift kiss then stood up and hooked his elbow around the proffered arm, following the taller man through the crowded club.
It was surprisingly luxurious behind the private door but as tacky as a Las Vegas wedding chapel; all red and plum velvet with gold daubed satyrs decorating every surface.
“I live up there,” Carter pointed to a spiral staircase as they waited by the lift. “I work down in the basement. I like to keep playtime separate.”
The elevator doors opened and Carter herded Jake inside and pressed a button. The club owner’s hands were everywhere and Jake felt light-headed and confused as he was kissed and stroked into submission in the claustrophobic corner of the tiny lift.
Finally the elevator reached its destination and Jake was tugged along a dark corridor past bacchanalian friezes and Boschesque pictures until they reached a door panelled in red leather right at the end. Jake felt as if he were going back into a time warp; he half expected Carter to slink out of his leather jacket and unfasten his shirt to the waist revealing a hideous hairy chest and gold medallion.
It was easy enough to slide his hands under the silk shirt to check for smooth skin and defined muscles. Jake inched forward and raised himself up on tiptoes to kiss the dark haired man but Carter remained surprisingly aloof, refusing to participate.
“Business first, baby boy, then time for the pleasure.” He laughed at the petulant expression on Jake’s face. “Now, we’re both agreed you’re happy to work for me?”
Jake nodded and pressed his body once more against Carter’s, slipping his hands beneath clothing and caressing the semi-hard length that lay along the Carter’s thigh.
“You wanna make us lots of money, Jakey?”
It was hot and his head was swimming and Carter tasted like cloves and cinnamon and dark treacle. Jake nodded again.
“Sign here then, cutey.” Carter swivelled around, picking up a contract off the mahogany desk.
Using the momentary distraction to his advantage, Jake slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the knife, lifting it and hooking it around Carter’s throat. “You know what, cutey? I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just take my money and any other spare cash you have lying around and then go.”
Jake really wasn’t on top of his game tonight. He was too sluggish from whiskey and flighty from coke to be effectual. Before he could figure out what was happening the knife was whipped from his hand and his PVC jeans were sliced away. Next thing Jake knew he was pressed face down onto the surface of the desk with Carter’s rubber covered cock up his arse.
“Oh baby, you just made one really big mistake.” There was a dry laugh. “Not that it matters.”
Carter sat down in the chair and pulled Jake back onto him, cutting away the cotton t-shirt and marking the boy’s pale skin with little zigzag cuts from the blade. All of a sudden the man stabbed the point deep into Jake’s finger and the boy cried out as blood flowed over the contract. With one hand on Jake’s cock and the other guiding the dripping finger over the paper, Carter pressed a kiss onto the side of Jake’s neck and laughed, “A contract signed in blood looks so pretty, if a little hard to read. Good thing it’s meaningless.”
“Meaningless?” Jake twisted his head around to look at Carter. He had this worrying niggle of a feeling that he’d bitten off more than he could chew
“Yeah. Without meaning.” Carter pushed Jake off him and tore away the remaining strips of material and boots from the boy.
“Show daddy your cock, Jakey.” Carter ran the tip of the knife over Jake’s hard prick, watching with fascination as it twitched and jumped to the sting of the blade. “Oh you sweet thing, my clientele are going to love you.”
He spun Jake around and prodded him in the spine with the knife. “Thataway to your new home, precious.”
Jake was forced out of another doorway in the office and into a stark white corridor with tile floors and walls.
“It’s a nice hygienic environment. Easy to clean up any little spills. Welcome to your new home.” Carter pushed open the steel door and threw Jake inside. The room was a prison cell, no more than six by six with an open bathroom area to one side.
The reality of the situation suddenly smacked Jake in the face and he flung himself at Carter, clawing and biting like a wild animal. The more Jake fought and screamed, the more Carter laughed until the tears began to roll down his cheeks.
For the first time in his sordid little life Jake felt a sickening lurch of terror sit heavy inside his belly like clay, spreading tendrils of anxiety throughout his body, tugging and tweaking at his nerves making him want to piss and shit the fear away.
“Lie down on the floor now, there’s a good boy, let me give you some medicine to take all that nasty pain away.”
Carter popped a tab under Jake’s tongue and the boy just didn’t have the will to fight anymore. Letting the drug flow through his system, Jake melted into a puddle of nothing and stared vacantly at the blank screen of the monitor that was hooked up to a bracket on the wall.
“Who’s a pretty boy then? Who’s a pretty boy then?” sang Carter over and over again as he lifted Jake’s legs and explored the tight hole with his fingers, spreading him and giggling at the expression on the little whore’s face as he dug his long painted nails into the delicate internal skin. Jake never took his eyes off the television.
“Want to watch the show do you, beautiful?”
Jake tried to turn his head to look at the man but he couldn’t move. It was as if he was embedded in resin, a mosquito trapped in amber for eternity.
Carter stood up and switched on the monitor then removed his clothes, piling them neatly on the bed and washing his hands fastidiously in the tiny stainless steel hand basin. Sliding a condom onto his erect penis, Carter studied the blood-smeared boy with a cool, satisfied expression. Jake was motionless, legs around his ears, face as blank as if he were wearing a mask. Only his eyes reflected true emotion as he watched the grotesque images of other tortured boys flicker across the monitor screen.
“Welcome to my zoo, Jake.” Carter forced his cock, balls deep, into his latest acquisition’s pliant body then positioned the boy’s arms out on either side of him.
“Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo…” His eyes flicked rhythmically from right to left as he fucked Jake in time with the rhyme. When he had finished reciting he reached over to his right, rummaging under the bed and pulling out a stainless steel box.
“This little piggy went to market, and this little piggy stayed at home. This little piggy ate roast beef, and this little piggy had none and this little piggy went…”
The surgical blade cut through the middle finger of Jake’s left hand with ease, accompanied by a bone snapping crunch. Red and silver pooled onto the white tiles decorating the ceramic surface like Christmas.
“The first cut is the deepest.” Carter’s ghoulish singing voice morphed into low menacing words, all hint of joviality lost as he fucked the boy with slow satisfying thrusts. “But I assure you there’ll be many many more. My clients pay top dollar to take little boys like you to pieces.”
Jake managed to turn his head away from the screen and look up at his captor, face still blank but eyes burning with hatred.
“Oh! You know what?” said Carter, bracing himself on an arm and bending his neck to lick up the dribbles of blood from Jake’s body, ”I forgot to wish you many happy returns. Happy birthday, Jakey, I hope you’ll have many more like it. Although I sincerely doubt it.”
Jake closed his eyes and blew out the candles on an imaginary cake, wishing
to die quickly.