- Standard disclaimers apply. This story is mostly fiction although certain * locations in the story do exist. As far as my knowledge there is no * brothel up Addington Road and any resemblance of characters to people * living or dead is purely coincidental. * * This story deals with some sensitive issues that could be considered * unpleasant. Please don't consider the story about just a male * prostitute, it is about his character as a whole and is more powerful than * just j/o material. The following chapters will explain it in more detail. * * In no way does this story or the author condone rape or prostitution in any * way, shape or form. These acts are sick and evil but are necessary for the * plot line and character development only. If you wish to get your rocks off * on them then please go elsewhere for your 'entertainment' * * Is there anyone out there? I got a single response to "Bitter Poison 1" * and am wondering whether I am writing into a void. If you wish the story to * continue then please email me. I rely on comments from readers to know * what to improve in the story and without your support then I will flounder. * * If you wish to contact me then either email me at jgeldart@writers-alley.com * or ICQ me at #10446635. I would appreciate constructive critisism of the story. * Flames will be fed to Baal. * * Thanks go to Cold Mouse (my editor), Birgir, Rob, Danny, Andrew, Matt, * Dash and of course Maria as my sister and one of my closest friends. * * The author, Joseph Geldart, asserts his right to be identified as the * author of this novel according to sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright * Designs and Patents act 1988.
"The greatest pain is a pain alone" -- Grex Arnia
Chapter 2 ---------
The sound of the rain was as loud as before as James climbed the slightly old and rickety staircase. Each step creaked and shifted slightly under his feet as he slowly made his way up to the common room. Dreading the event but knowing that unless he made cursory attempts at socialising that he would have his percentage cut he moved on. The lightning's brief flashes offered glimpses of the otherwise dark stairwell, revealed peeling paint and dirt covered walls. The only constant source of illumination on James as he climbed was the doorway, a silhouette glowing around by a harsh fluorescent light. The actinic glow flickered slightly with the flashes from the sky and rumbling made a bass sound that was amplified by the bricks. Overlaid on the dark and ominous note came high 'plinks' and rounded drips as water leaked through the badly tarred roof and the unsealed skylight and dropped into wait buckets that were reserved for such nights. The musty wetness was an almost physical and tangible sensation in the already stagnant air. As he neared the top of the stairs he could hear the activity in the room beyond. The sound of 34 waifs and strays that were employed by Jack, in return for a place to sleep and a pittance, spilled out through the thin pine panels and flimsy frame of the door.
The room suddenly dropped silent as the grating sound of the rusty hinges broke through their conversation and James walked in. Glancing around at the raised heads of the various clubs and clans of boys who had looked up when he entered, he started to slowly walk through the draughty and damp room his feet making the floorboards creak under the too-thin, rotten, stained and peeling carpeting. A slight snigger went up from a few of the groups as he shuffled past, hands in pockets, trying to be inconspicuous to the crowds that were subtly gathering around him.
"Well look who it is!" Tom declaimed to the crowd with a Cheshire grin of predatory evil. Wary of him James looked up slowly taking in Tom's tight fitting cut-offs and body hugging shirt that showed off his copious muscles, "Wha- what do you want, Tom?" Tom's grin increased in malevolence as he looked up and down James' small frame, "Nothing much... just thought we might have some fun together," a snicker passed through the crowd of onlookers was quickly silenced by a dark look from Tom. "What kind of fun?" James' nervousness was increasing rapidly as he looked around and realised he was surrounded by an increasing hostile looking group "You know... just some gentle, harmless sort of fun," Tom's grin was approaching a lecherous leer by now. He made a slight gesture with his right hand and five of the group stepped forward. "Wh- why with me?" James started to step back only to run into the wall of the crowd. "Well... we haven't played quite as much as we could have done," Tom made another gesture, "and I intend to fix that." Suddenly the group of 5 jumped on James and began ripping his clothes off. Two of the five held his hands and feet against his kicking motions while the three others worked at unbuttoning his shirt and pulling down his jeans until James was just in his boxers, shivering against the dank air. "Flip him over," Tom ordered with total authority. The boys holding him sniggered as they complied putting James on his stomach. James struggled to turn back over and face his attacker or free his arms and legs. Suddenly he heard a sound, a zipper was slowly being lowered. A blast of cold suddenly played across his buttocks as his blue patterned boxers were pulled down to meet his jeans. Feeling something thick long and warm between his two cheeks he tensed. Sensing this Tom said, "Relax, its time that we had some fun." Without waiting for an answer Tom plunged his hard, long, dry cock right to the hilt.
Paul hid his head under another foetid cushion to try and block the hideous animal screams coming from the boy across the room. As another wave of pain battered the boy's body, Paul fought a losing battle against another wave of nausea. Tom's cries of pleasure combined to give a cacophony. Keeping his eyes firmly closed against the tableaux, Paul began to judge the progress of the event by the sounds coming from the juddering bodies involved. Tom's cries began to speed up, the volume and pitch increasing at once as the boy's anguished screams sped up simultaneously. With one final anguished cry of terror that cut through Paul's heart like a rusty blade, the animalian pairing split up to leave a broken boy sobbing on the floor, used and rejected once more.
James was unsure of how long he sat there waiting for a miracle, for angels to lift him up and take him to a perfect world. He had lost all track of time once Tom had started and the universe became defined by the pain that tinged the corners even now. The slow throb from his battered anus was the only marker he had to divide tick from tock. The salty stream of tears edged slowly down his face, past the slight freckles and past the dimples that are all that remain of his smile. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a pool forming and concentrated on it as the tears run off the end of his nose in drips, each one making a plop as it merged with the rest of the bitter liquid. While looking at the warm pool in front of his nose he became aware of a dark shadow resting over him, cringing with fear and remembrance James scrambled for his pants and jeans looking to restore some of his lost dignity. Pulling himself as upright as he could he looked into the narrow eyes of Jack holding a blanket and looking appraisingly at him.
"Come on now James," Jack said in an almost sympathetic tone, "lets get you back to your room."
James gratefully took the blanket and followed Jack out while Paul looked on.
James was lying huddled in his blankets trying to hold back further tears as Jack went through the motions of fatherly care. Buzzing around the room, tidying and cleaning as he went, Jack was the very model of stern but fair paternity. Moving over to the door, Jack turned the key in the stiff lock while looking around nervously. Perching himself back on James' bed, Jack licked his thin lips with a worried look and then said, "Of course no more will be said of this." James' only response was to start crying silent tears once more as Jack continued, "I mean, you don't want your Uncle Jack to suffer from being shut down now do you?" James' couldn't bring himself to look at Jack's face as he continued, "We need to act with solidarity against all adversity and that means taking the occasional slight hardship and continuing on the same as before. We are all in this together and have chosen this life so we all must act as one. I hope you won't disappoint me." Jack stood up and unlocked the door. Opening it slightly he looked back at the battered, huddled form in the foetal position and said, "I expect you to be ready for work tomorrow at 4pm as usual. You will have to take a longer shift since we lost Ben." Jack stepped through the portal and closed it behind him. When he heard the click of the door James burst into floods of tears and cried his heart out for a world he did not know.
Looking out of the window the next morning Paul was half dazzled by the array of glistening droplets of water reflecting the bright sun back into his sleepy eyes. Leaning out he saw Jack leaving on his normal morning errands for the City scurrying up to Bow Church Docklands Light Railway station. Leaning back in he shut the window and yawning sat back down on his rumpled, slept in bed. Dressed in only boxers it was a bit cold to leave windows open at this time. Looking at the clock he stood up and walked down the hall to the communal bathroom and set about relieving himself into the trough, a process made much more difficult by his hard-on He finally settled on just pointing vaguely at the wall above the trench and relaxing. 'Oh well,' he thought sighing inwardly, 'It can't make the smell any worse.' Shaking himself off he walked back down the corridor and slipped into his bed.
Breakfast was always a silent affair for the boys. This time the silence was not a comfortable one and the tension was palpable. The only sound was the rattle and clatter of spoons in bowls and of cereal and milk being poured. While silent, everyone was desperate to sate their hunger and was busy shoveling food into their open mouths and chewing quickly before swallowing the sugar coated glop. The only person not currently engaging in this was James who sat with a hung head and quiet tears dripping into his untouched bowl. Looking up from his own bowl Paul felt his heart being torn by the sight.
As he was sitting at the table, James became slowly aware of a regular chant at the edge of hearing. Slowly the sound was pulsing through the room and though it was low and quiet the malevolent hatred that laced the words was clear and sharp. As the number of voices grew, the volume swelled making the bitterness more intense. As the chant buffeted against his ears and funneled into his twitching brain, James' heart beat faster and his mind raced. Thousands of conflicting emotions tore through his perceptions with ambivalent glee, lancing his mind with agonising spasms. His mind spinning with confusion, James jumped up from his seat knocking his chair back to hit the nicotine stained, badly whitewashed wall. Stumbling slightly only added to the jeers as sweat started pouring off of his furrowed brow and his flailing arms knocked a milk jug over to spill its watery contents into the laps of those sitting near. The jug slowly rolled to the edge of the dirty tablecloth and fell, tumbling over and over, to smash into thousands of shards of glass. With that final stimulus, James' eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a confused heap of arms and legs against the wall with a raucous, hateful crowd standing around his slightly twitching body.
The tall dark walls of the narrow room leant forward at a precipitous angle as James lay crying on his hard bed. Feeling worthless and of now use his red and tired eyes darted around the empty room as he decided to try and escape. Glancing once more towards the tall, narrow, leaning MDF door, James stood and walked over placing his slightly fearful, clammy hand on the cold, brass handle. Twisting and pulling and pushing with all the strength he could muster the door wouldn't move from where it was. Feeling panic welling up inside of him James opened his mouth and screamed for help at the top of his voice, but not a sound issued. The panic James felt vicing at his heart increased but trying to stay as calm as he could he tried to will the sound out of his throat but the result was only a slight squeak that even he could only just hear. Becoming aware of a stomach turning scretch from the narrow window high above, James looked up and saw a hideous black claw cutting through the glass with the efficiency of a diamond knife. His panic reasserted itself and turning back to the portal, knocked twice fast. The door swung slowly outwards with a squeal to reveal a long corridor of many identical doors lining each side at regular intervals and with a silhoetted sash window lit by moonlight at the end.
Running down the corridor opening the doors, James found only clones of the narrow bedrooms. Door after door showed the same and he never felt closer to the end and a feeling of safety provided by the fingers of cool but loving moonlight. Looking over his shoulder as he ran he saw a cloud of darkness removing door after door just behind him. Terror drove him faster but still the cloud chased him, matching pace, toying with him.
Finally, on his left he saw a door slightly different to the others and he grabbed it as hard as he could, flinging it open to reveal a giant shadowy outline of a man grasping for his throat and pulling his arm back. The arm pushed forwards towards his face to deliver a killing blow. Just before it hit James noticed a flash of red on the man's neck just below his left ear. Screaming loudly James felt the air just in front of the clenched fist and...
James awoke screaming in his bed, the sheets drenched. Looking out over the noon cityscape of Tower Hamlets highrise, James collapsed back and started sobbing into his already wet pillow.
Outside James' room door a shadowy figure slipped back down the corridor to the staircase crying to himself over the boy and his pain.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sorry for the long delay but exams happened and as such I was forced to actually do some work. The plot is coming in soon so keep with it and you will understand. As usual comments are welcomed at jgeldart@writers-alley.com but flames are ignored.