Boy For Hire

By: B W
(© 2013 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1
The Final Straw 

This was going to be the last time the bastard beat the crap out of me.  I’d had it and wasn’t going to take his shit any longer.  He swung around to hit me again, but I was ready for him this time and took the offensive.  After blocking his blow, I kicked him squarely in the nuts and the son-of-a-bitch doubled over in pain, as a look of disbelief registered on his face.  I knew he never thought I’d have the guts to defend myself, so he had continued to heap his abuse on me, but this was the last time he’d ever get that chance. 

As he hunched over in pain, I brought my knee up forcefully under his chin and sent him sprawling on the floor.  As soon as he went down, I gave a couple of powerful kicks to his side, just as he had done to me in the past, and heard a sharp crack.  I assumed I’d probably just broken one of his ribs, maybe even more than one, but I didn’t give a shit.  He deserved it.  Now, I squatted over his chest and brought my right fist crashing into his jaw and then my left came smashing into his cheek. 

I was taking out all of the years of frustration and doing the same things to him that he had done to me, because I wanted to give him a taste of his own same medicine.  I wasn’t about to show the asshole any mercy and unleashed the cumulative years of pent up rage I’d been holding back, but had desperately wanted to be able to vent, so I used this occasion to do just that.  My fists flew so quickly they were just a blur, as I struck any part of his body that got in their way.  When my fists began to hurt from pounding him, I stood up and gave him a couple more kicks for good measure.

As I stood there looking at his limp and battered form, I began to wonder why I had taken his abuse for so long.  Sure, he might have been my father and down deep maybe I still loved him, but why did I let him kick the crap out of me for so many years?  Why did I take his abuse without fighting back?  He would come home, get royally drunk and then find some excuse to beat me to within an inch of my life.  He was a fucking alcoholic, animalistic bully and I spent years believing that every beating he gave me was my fault. 

I even went out of my way to show him I was a good son and better than any son could hope to be, but nothing I did stopped the beatings.  No matter how well behaved I was, it was never good enough and it took me all this time before I finally realized it wasn’t my fault.  It was the booze and his fucking disposition that had created this hell on earth for me, so now I was officially ending his reign of terror.  At fifteen, Trevor Wiley was forever declaring his independence in the strongest possible fashion.  I was going to leave this pathetic excuse for a father behind and make a life for myself. 

I went upstairs, threw everything I had into a large, dark green duffle bag I owned and got ready to leave the house.  First, I collected all of the cash I’d saved from doing whatever jobs I could for the neighbors and then I grabbed my jacket and knit cap, since it was still winter.  When I went back downstairs and walked past the bastard’s prone form, I spat on him, to add insult to the injury I had so forcefully heaped upon him.  Then, I opened the door and walked outside, slamming the door behind me. 

I stood alone in the cold, night air and tried to determine where I would go now.  I had no other relatives and only a few friends, but I knew I had to leave this small town and get as far away from everything as I could.  Butler, Virginia was a very small town and rumors spread quickly.  I understood that once word got out that I’d wailed on my old man, some of the other locals would turn on me.  Hell, the sheriff would probably even arrest me for assault and it wouldn’t make any difference to them that he routinely beat the hell out of me, because he was my father and could discipline me any way he saw fit.  I knew they would never accept self-defense as a legitimate rationale for the severe beating I’d just given him.  The only way they would have turned on him would have been if he’d actually beaten me to death and I wasn’t about to wait around until that happened.

Everyone in town knew he drank and often to excess.  Dad was a civilian employee at Fort A.P. Hill, which was 30 or 40 miles northwest of here, and rode to work in a car pool with three other locals who also worked there.  He would constantly bitch to them about what a terrible kid I was and how hard it was to keep me in line.  Once he started feeding them that crap, word quickly spread throughout town that I was the devil’s spawn and my father would not ‘spare the rod’ in his effort to make me an honest, upstanding member of the community.  Only a few of our really close neighbors I worked for ever suspected his claims were unfounded and total bullshit, but since they didn’t have any solid proof to the contrary, there was little, if anything, they could do to help me.

Walking down the dark road that led out of town, my mind kept going over each of the beatings I had suffered at his hands.  I recalled the very first time it had happened as if it were only yesterday.  My mom was still alive at the time and I had been out playing with some friends.  As usual, Dad came home from work and started drinking heavily.  I was supposed to be home by 8:00, so when I walked in five minutes late, he lit into me as if I had just robbed a bank or raped the girl next door. 

I was only seven years old at the time and trembled in fear as he grabbed me by the arms and began shaking me like a rag doll.  I nearly pissed and shit my pants, seeing I was so frightened, but he didn’t let up.  The next thing I knew, he threw me across the room and my body slammed into the wall.  That knocked all of the air out of my lungs and I slumped to the floor, but he wasn’t done with me yet.  He came over, grabbed me by the arm again and dragged me to my room. 

Once we were there, he tossed me on the bed and ripped the clothes from my body.  Then he pulled me off the bed and made me bend over the side of the mattress, with my ass in the air, as he removed his belt.  He then whipped me with that wide piece of leather for the next fifteen minutes, until he dropped from exhaustion.  He had whipped every inch of my flesh, from my shoulders to my ankles, and left the marks that I still carry today.  My backside was cut up and bleeding, but then the welts and bruises picked up where the blood left off. 

After he’d finished abusing me, Mom tended to my battered body, but there wasn’t much she could do at that point, except clean off the blood and apply some antibiotic ointment, in order to prevent infection.  For several days afterward, I would lie in bed at night, on my belly, while trying to determine what I had done to make my father hate me so.  Going to school was tough too, seeing the injuries made it difficult to do almost anything.  Even sitting at a desk was painful, especially where my back or butt rested against the chair.  My mom also had to give me an excuse to get out of PE class and explained it away by telling them I’d had a bad bike accident and couldn’t participate for a couple of weeks. 

The next beating came after I spilled my milk at dinner, so this flogging was the result of wasting food and making a mess.  The time after that was because he saw me talking to someone he didn’t approve of, so that punishment was meant to teach me to respect and obey his wishes.  The next occasion he mauled my body was because I didn’t clean my room well enough.  The time after that happened due to the wind blowing the lid off of the trash can after I’d set it out at the curb, since I obviously hadn’t put it on properly.  Those last two thrashings were to teach me responsibility and encourage me to pay attention to detail. 

After that, he smacked me around because I got to the bathroom first and made him late for his car pool.  The time after that came about because I’d asked my mother to repeat something she’d said.  Honestly, I hadn’t heard what she’d told me, but that didn’t matter.  He whipped me again, but this time it was to teach me to respect my parents and pay attention.  No matter what I did, I got bashed for it.  Sometimes he whipped me with his belt, while at other times it would be with his hands or fists.  There were other occasions when he used a wooden switch, a wooden spoon, the garden hose, an electrical cord or just about anything else he could put his hands on at the moment.  Over time, I learned this took place at his whim and basically for any reason at all. 

During those beatings, if my mom intervened in an attempt to protect me, it would only piss the bastard off and then he’d start slapping her around as well.  No matter how hard I tried, I was never able to answer the question about why he hated me so badly, as I endured many more beatings, which went along with his merciless taunts.  Every time he delivered another blow to my abused torso, he would tell me what a disobedient, miserable piece of shit I was. 

When my mother drowned, while trying to save a little girl from a rain swollen creek, the beatings got even worse, if you can possibly believe that.  It all culminated tonight, after I finally decided I’d had enough and fought back out of anger and frustration.  I didn’t know how badly I’d hurt him, hell I might have even killed him, but I really didn’t care how he fared from my assault.  Why should I?  He never gave a damn about what he did to me or how badly I was hurt. 

Over the years I had become numb to both him and his beatings, at least after about the first two-dozen episodes.  After being pummeled so many times, I willed my mind somewhere else whenever he flew into one of his rages.  I pretended it wasn’t happening to me and it wasn’t him assaulting me.  Hell, as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t even there.  Afterward, I would tend to my injuries and then attempt to avoid as much contact with both the afflicted areas and the outside world as I could.  Then, I’d pray all of my wounds, both physical and emotional, would heal before the next beating began.

Now, here I was walking down a dark, lonely county road, while trying to get away from him.  I wasn’t sure if there would be enough traffic to get a ride or if I’d end up walking the entire distance to I-95, but I didn’t really care, as long as I got away from here.  I figured that once I hit the Interstate, I could catch a ride to somewhere in southern Florida, where I wouldn’t have to worry so much about finding shelter from the elements during the remaining winter months, especially at night when I needed to rest.  If I had to, I would sleep out in the open, in a park or behind a school, but it wouldn’t make a difference to me, as long as I wasn’t near my asshole father.  I had already walked a few miles down that long, unlit road when an old pick-up truck pulled up beside me.

“Where you headed to, young fella?” the driver inquired, while eyeing me.

“To the Interstate,” I answered, hoping he might offer to give me a lift. 

“Whatcha goin’ there fer?” he followed. 

“I’m going to Florida to visit my Grandma, sir,” I lied.  “She’s been really sick and needs someone to help take care of her.”

“Well, yuh got kinda a long haul ahead of yuh, so hop in,” he offered and I immediately accepted. 

I jumped into the cab and the driver burned a little rubber, when the tires spun on the gravel first, before grabbing ahold of the pavement.  The driver was a fairly muscular guy, probably in his mid to late twenties, and wasn’t bad looking either.  From the things he talked about, I assumed he was a construction worker, which probably explained his muscular build.  We had traveled about ten minutes before I got my first proposition.

“Hey kid, I was thinkin’ about stoppin’ fer somethin’ to eat,” he announced.  “I’m hungry.  How abouch yuh?”

“You can stop if you want to, but I’m ok,” I replied.  “I don’t have much money, so I’ve got to save what I have for my trip.”

“Who said anythin’ abouch yuh payin’?” he followed.  “Ah figured we could work outta little deal.”

“What do you mean?” I asked naively.

“Well, I thought I could pay fer yuh meal, if yuh let me suck on yur dick fer a bit,” he suggested, while flashing me a grin. 

“And what would I have to do to you?” I countered, since I was afraid there was more to this than what he was saying.

“Nutin’.  I’ll suck yur dick and then yuh get to eat,” he answered.  “That’s it.”

I thought about it for a minute and concluded I didn’t mind the idea of getting sucked off by this nice looking guy, especially if he was going to buy my food too.  This might not be such a bad deal after all and a double win for me. 

“Well, it depends,” I stated, to see how far he was willing to go.  “How much are you willing to spend for my food if I let you do this?”

He looked as if he was adding things up in his mind, but then finally responded. 

“Ten bucks, tops,” he stated. 

He’d hit the magic number, so I didn’t even have to think about it. 

“Deal!” I agreed. 

“Supah.  There’s a little place up duh road where we can pull over fer some fun,” he announced, and it seemed as if he was getting quite excited about doing this. 

It wasn’t long before he pulled the car over and parked.  We were stopped in a flat, open area just off the road, where the ground had previously been cleared of all vegetation, possibly when the crews were working on the roadway during the fall.  There was plenty of room to get the truck off the road and then remain inconspicuous to passing motorists.  After he turned off the engine, he got out of the truck, walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle and opened my door.  The dome light didn’t come on, so I figured the bulb must have blown.

“Just swing yur legs out duh door and I’ll make yuh feel real good,” he instructed. 

I did as I was told and he knelt in front of me, as he started to unfasten my jeans.  I lifted my butt off the seat, so he could pull them and my boxer-briefs down below my knees, as he exposed my 5.75” [14.5 cm] circumcised penis.  It was already half-hard in anticipation, and as soon he saw the state I was in, he began to chuckle about how excited I was about getting my rocks off.

“Well, it looks like yuh kinda like my idea, boy,” he teased. 

“I don’t know any guy who doesn’t like a good blowjob,” I replied dryly.

“And that’s what I’m gonna give yuh,” he confirmed. 

He then bent over, grabbed my cock in his hand and started to lick the bright pink head.  As soon as he did that, I felt tingling sensations wash over my body and my excited boyhood jumped to full attention.  He continued licking my dick, while his other hand reached up and started to fondle my balls.  He was good, really good, and I was very aroused by his actions.  When he flicked his tongue into my piss slit, he sent another wave of sensations outward from the glans, and I was still enjoying those sensations when he slid his mouth over the tip of my organ. 

He easily swallowed the entire shaft and immediately had his nose brushing against my pubic hairs.  He began to work his lips over the outer covering of my member and gently stroked the sides of my erection with the tender, moist flesh of his lips and inside of his mouth.  As he continued doing this, I began to feel the churning in my nuts and the heat of pleasure radiated from my groin and extended to the tip of my dick. 

“I’m nearly there.  I’m going to cum soon,” I warned him, but he didn’t pull off.  If anything, he sped up his actions.  “Oh, ahhh… I’m going to… cuuum.  Oh God, yes.  Suck it.  Suck it.”  

Since he knew I was about to blow, he took his hand off of my nut sac and slid it under my butt.  That’s when I felt one of his fingers searching out my butt hole, before he jammed it into my chute.  He quickly touched something within me that triggered my release, because the sensations it elicited were more than I could take.

“I’m… I’m… ughhh…”  but I never finished. 

That was the last sound I uttered before several gigantic ropes of sperm jettisoned from my cock and flooded my benefactor’s slurping mouth.  He kept sucking on my dick until he had teased the final few drops of cum from my now wilting love muscle and then let it fall from his lips.

“Boy.  Yuh sure pack one hellofa load.  Damn tasty, too,” he gushed.  “Hell, yuh filled me up so much that I dunno if I ken still eat.”

“You’re not backing out of your deal, are you?”  I stated, as I began to panic.

“No kid, yuh was good to yur word and I’ll be good fer mine,” he confirmed.  “We’ll go eat, all right.  Hell, yuh ken even pick duh place.”

Relieved, I asked him if there was a decent pizza place around and he said he knew just the spot.  We stopped at ‘Tony’s Pizza Parlor’ and had a large, thick crust, pepperoni pizza and cokes.  It was really pretty good and we were on the road again in short order. 

As we drove along this time, I closed my eyes, leaned back and began to think.  Hey, if I can find other guys out there who would buy me things or give me money if I let them suck me off, then I might do better than I first thought.  In fact, it could even be fun.  I guess I’d always suspected I might be gay.  Heck, I’d always found myself aroused when looking at or thinking about other guys, so maybe I could use it to my advantage.  This might be just what I needed to prove whether I really was gay or not.  I could also earn some money, get some food and relieve my built up sexual tension all at the same time.  Hell, if the guy looks decent enough, I might even be willing to suck him off for even more money.  I kept thinking about these new possibilities when the driver brought me back from my circumspection. 

“Hey, boy.  Yuh asleep?” he asked, in a hushed voice, in case I was sleeping.

“No, just thinking,” I replied. 

“Well, duh Interstate is right chere, so I just wanna let yuh know this is as fer as I’m goin’,” he informed me. 

“Thanks for the ride, sir, and thanks for everything else.  I really appreciate what you did for me.”

“Well, I’ll keep muh eyes open fer yur return trip,” he noted. 
”Maybe we ken have some more fun then.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” I agreed. 

Even as I told him this, I knew I would never return here, but that didn’t matter.  It gave him something to look forward to, even if it never happened.  He then pulled over to the side of the road, so I got out and thanked him again.

“Hey, kid.  Head over to that truck stop over thar and yuh might be able tuh talk one of dem drivers into givin’ yuh a ride south,” he suggested.  “Most of dem travel on duh Interstate, so you shud have a gud chance of gettin’ there.”

I thanked him again and did as he suggested.  I started talking to the various drivers I ran across, to see if any of them might be heading south.  Most of them seemed to be traveling north, but then one of the drivers said he was going in my direction.

“Yeah, I’m driving south, all the way to Miami,” he revealed.  “I can get you almost anywhere you want to go.”

“That would be nice, but I can’t afford to pay you,” I admitted and the driver started to eye me up and down. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what, kid.  If you let me have a piece of that tail, then not only will I drop you off where you want to go, but I’ll even buy your meals along the way too,” he offered, looking hopeful. 

“What exactly do you want me to do?” I challenged, since I wasn’t sure what he was suggesting. 

“You don’t have to do nothin’, son, except let me fuck that cute little ass of yours,” he clarified, while grinning. 

“Uh, I… well… I don’t know about that,” I stammered.  “I’ve never done… well… that before.  Isn’t there something else I could do instead?”

“Look, son.  I’ll be real gentle with you,” he promised.  “I’ve got some KY jelly in the cab and I’ll loosen you up real good, so you won’t hardly feel a thing.”

“I’m… I’m... not sure,” I stammered again, since I was worried it was going to hurt.

“Son, you’re not going to get any better offer than I’m making you,” he stated.  “I’m going the whole way to Miami, so I can drop you off no matter where you’re heading.”

“Well, where would you suggest I go then?” I asked in return. 

“You mean you don’t even know where you’re heading?” he shot back, totally bewildered. 

“I just want to get away from here for a while,” I countered.  “I want to go some place where I’ll blend in and where it’ll be warm enough to spend all of my time outdoors, if I need to.  It would help if there was also a good-size mall in a fairly nice neighborhood nearby.”

“In that case, I’d suggest Ft. Lauderdale,” he suggested.  “There’s a huge mall on the west side, near the Interstate, and I think you’d fit in there just fine.  It’ll be plenty warm enough too.  Course, most of those parts would be.”

I thought for a while before I answered him. 

“If you promise not to hurt me when you do it, then I’ll let you give me a ride to Ft. Lauderdale.  Deal?” I offered. 

“Sure, kid.  I’ll be as gentle as your own mama,” he agreed, while giving me a big grin. 

I thanked him, but the mention of my mother brought a whole new wave of emotions into play.  I wondered if I’d be doing this if she were still around?  I also wondered if she’d have left Dad and taken the two of us somewhere safe?  I even wondered if she could have protected me or even had him arrested for what he did to us?  Then, I reasoned there was no sense in worrying or wondering about things that could never be changed. 

Since he was ready to leave, I hopped into the truck’s cab and we were soon tooling down the highway.  The trucker said he’d be pulling over to take a little nap in a couple of hours, because he’d been on the road for quite awhile.  That’s also when he would be expecting his payment.

I started fidgeting in my seat and began to wonder if I’d made the right decision.  Although I’d occasionally thought about some guy popping my anal cherry, I’d always hoped it would be some cute young guy that I’d fallen in love with.  Here I was with some strange truck driver in his late fifties and I’d agreed to let him deflower me for the price of a ride and meals.  At the time, it sounded like the right decision, but now I was starting to wonder if I hadn’t been a bit hasty.  I think the driver knew or suspected what I was thinking, because he suddenly tried to engage me in a lot of inane chitchat to distract me from any other thoughts.  Over the following hour, we began talking about anything that popped into his mind.

We had a long ride ahead of us, and we’d go through several different states before we even got to Florida.  I was trying to figure out which state we’d be in when we pulled over, as I began to ponder my fate.  I wanted to fall asleep and just forget about what awaited me, but I knew my mind would never let go of the idea long enough so I could get any rest.  Instead, I decided to spend my time mentally preparing myself for what was going to happen.  He promised he wouldn’t hurt me and seemed to be a pretty honest and up-front type of person, so maybe I’d be alright.  In the meantime, I tried to convince myself this would work out fine, even if it wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to happen.

To be continued...

Posted: 06/21/13