FOSTERING FAGGOTS BY: MOORE
CHAPTER ONE
"How much?"
"What did you have in mind, sir?"
The middle aged guy looked okay, nothing like a cop or a pervert. He wore decent clothes, his shoes were shined and the telltale sign of a missing wedding ring was evident on the third finger of his left hand. I knew the type, a frustrated, closeted homosexual, in New York on business or possibly a convention. And I also knew exactly what he had in mind before he took two steps closer to me and nervously whispered, "Um, a blow job."
"A blow job, sure," I replied with a big, boyish smile. Then added, "It'll be my pleasure to suck your cock."
"Suck my cock, yes, but I don't have much time. I'm meeting my, uh, someone at seven."
Meeting the unsuspecting wife for dinner, I thought. The little woman, the mother of his children who had no idea that she was married to a queer. He only had time for a quickie if he didn't want to be late. The perfect "suck and see ya" client.
"I'll blow you for twenty dollars, okay?" The going rate on the street for a standard kneeling blow job, purposely set low to hook the fish. Which it did because he reached for his wallet. Options were extra.
"Twenty five if you want me to suck your dick naked, sir, without a condom. Thirty dollars, sir, if you want to cum on my face."
His face lit up like a Christmas tree, this guy should never sit down at a poker table. Alexander Hamilton joined the Andrew Jackson in his hand. But I had one more option to offer, the President Grant special. "Fifty dollars, sir, to go all the way."
"All the way?"
"Yes, sir. For fifty dollars, sir, I'll suck your dick without a condom and you can make me your personal cocksucker, sir."
"How's that?"
"By cumming in my cocksucker mouth, sir."
"Cum in your mouth," he echoed. "I never...yes, I would like to cum in your mouth. And you'll really swallow my sperm? Be my personal cocksucker?"
"Every drop of your cum, sir. You can watch while I swallow your load."
I tucked President Grant away, payment in advance before rendering the service was the rule for any prostitute, male or female, working the street. Once given, I learned the hard way, you can't take back a blow job.
"Where?" He asked.
"Follow me, sir," I replied, pleased with sale of a Grant special; eager to earn the money and even more eager to enjoy the creamy bonus. Unlike most of the boy whores on the street that I compete with for clients, my fellow cocksuckers who have to suck dick for a living, I really do like to suck dick and eat cum. The personal cocksucker line was my own invention. I used to feel guilty about the bait and switch, but when I began my apprenticeship, started whoring for men professionally, I felt guilty about taking any money at all.
"Here?" He asked, looking around the service area behind the Mayfair Hotel. I told him we could have a room inside, they offered short-stay rates, but he declined when I told him the cost. The queer men who wanted privacy to blow me or wanted me to fuck them or wanted to use me for a sexual fantasy usually took a room. The service area was fine for straight head or a short session in my boy pussy.
It wasn't luxurious, but we, those of us that brought our clients here, kept it reasonably clean; no used condoms littering the blacktop. We also kept it stocked with the basic tools of our trade; condoms, lube, paper towels, cans of Mountain Dew, and an active cocksucker's best friend, the all important knee pad. I knelt down on a well used pad and went to work.
"Wow, what a great cock to suck," I lied. It was just an ordinary dick, maybe a five inch erection, but it never hurts to be nice, submissive too, to the guy whose cock you're about to suck. Circumcised, so he was probably Jewish, and his hairy crotch smelled musky, which really turns me on, but clean, so I offered an extra service. "Okay if I lick your big balls before I suck your great cock?"
The poor guy was either going to have a heart attack or cum in his JC Penny boxer shorts. All he could do was moan his acceptance as I pulled down his shorts with my teeth and buried my face in his crotch. I licked all around and under his tasty balls, licked up the veiny underside of the shaft and all around the purplish head. I kissed the tip a few times, savoring the precum, then took him deep into my mouth and began to suck.
I am an excellent cocksucker; been sucking dicks since I'm ten, as a professional boy whore for the last two years, and I absolutely love my work. I suck about twenty five cocks on an average weekend, I'm in school during the week, and work about forty weekends a year. That's one thousand blow jobs a year, more or less, one thousand cocks orally serviced and untold quarts of delicious cum. I know my way around a man's dick and balls. I knew that this one was going to be quick. What I call a Roger Bannister blow job, an RB for short.
Remember Roger Bannister? I was only six years old in May of 1954 when England's Roger Bannister broke the four minute mile. I remember it well because my foster father at that time was English. Back then it was big news in all the papers, now, ten years later, the best runners do it routinely. The best cocksuckers can get a guy off in under four minutes too.
I serviced three more middle aged men over the next two hours, easy RB's at my standard twenty dollar rate. They each declined all of the options, but I took each of them bare anyway; I hate the artificial taste of Trojans and Sheiks, and I gladly let each of them climax in my mouth. I like the warm spurts of semen pouring into my mouth and love the rich, creamy, all-natural taste and the smell of fresh sperm, honest. So most of my clients get the Grant special whether they pay for it or not. Most, not all. Certainly not the two college guys who, after purchasing my services had to prove how macho they were by trying to humiliate me.
"Hey, Gino, what do you call a girl who'll go down on her knees and suck a guy's dick?" One asked as they followed me through the alley. "Popular," He laughed a few moments later when his beer guzzling pal had no answer.
"And a guy who sucks?" He continued as I got down on my knee pad and started on their belts and zippers. "What do you call a guy like this one, a guy who sucks dick?"
"Dunno, Pete," Gino slurred. "What?"
Pete grabbed my ears and slapped my face with his stiff cock. "Tell my pal Gino what you are, cocksucker!" He demanded.
"I'm a fag, Gino," I said automatically as I covered Pete's hard-on with a Trojan. I'd heard the joke many times before. "A faggot, cocksucker."
Pete rammed his condom-covered cock through my parted lips and deep into my mouth. "A fag!" He roared. "A fuckin' queer. A lowlife, cocksucking faggot! A cum eating queer with a scumbag for a mouth! Suck my cock, faggot!"
Don't take it personally. I did when I started working the street, but I don't anymore. I swallowed my pride a long time ago, washed it down with a thousand loads of yummy cum. Street language is coarse, descriptive and in my case, except for the lowlife part, true. My mouth is like a scumbag and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I added the college boys' money to the cash-filled condom that serves as the perfect hiding place and picked up the two used ones. Pete's Trojan and Gino's Sheik were both heavy with the sperm that rightfully belonged to me; the cocksucker's reward for giving good head. Pete and Gino may have missed out on the pleasure of a bare-back blow job and cumming in my mouth, but although I missed the spurts in my mouth I could still enjoy the pleasure of eating their cum.
I tossed the inside out, now sperm-free rubbers into the trash and headed back to my corner. I was ready to take a short break, but a new client was already waiting. I offered my standard rate for a blow job, but he had other ideas.
"Take it or leave it, cocksucker," he said, cutting short the negotiation. "Ten bucks to blow me, faggot, you got competitors. And don't even think about using a rubber."
A dick in my mouth was more important than money so I pocketed the Hamilton and started for the alley. My cheapskate customer held me back. "Not so fast, faggot," he said. "I want you bare-assed naked. Be a good fairy and take off all your clothes."
"Right here?" I said, looking up and down the street for one of New York's finest. I don't mind being naked for a client, but I didn't want to get arrested. The cops allow us to do our business as long as we're discrete about it and there's no mayoral campaign underway to clean-up Times Square. Not for nothing though, and we all take a turn at the weekly party at the station house. The women participate too, cops love free pussy, but nobody sucks dick, cop cock or otherwise, like a fag.
Discrete does not include public nudity on the sidewalk, and a long night spent servicing bored, horny guys in a holding cell at Rykers, well. I've been there and done that, twice, and even fags like me; cocksuckers who love to suck, pussy boys who love to get fucked, have their limits.
"Give me a break, huh? I don't want to get arrested. I'll go down on you for the sawbuck, kiss your ass, lick your balls, eat your load..."
"You'll do that too, faggot, and a whole lot more. Now get your fuckin' clothes off!"
"I can't, please. Not out here on the sidewalk."
"Sure you can, pussylips" he said softly, taking a box cutter and a length of red ribbon from his back pocket. "And you can tie this around your faggot prick."
The customer, even a perverted weirdo, is always right. Especially when he's got a sharp object in his hand. I stripped down to my BVD's and took them off too when he slapped my ass hard and said, "Naked!"
My hands were shaking a little so it took me three tries before I got the ribbon tied in a perfect bow around my cock and balls. The final indignity was the red lipstick he made me apply before shoving me into the alley. We stopped at a fuck station, one of the three padded saw horses that were spaced around the service area.
"Bend over and spread'em," he said, waving the blade in my face. "We'll get to the blow job later, faggot, after I fuck the shit outta your pussy."
I kept silent about using a condom and about the extra fee to fuck my ass. Prayed silently too that the lube I'd applied at the beginning of my shift was still up to the task. It was, barely, as he impaled me on his cock with one powerful thrust. I get fucked about five times over the course of an average working weekend. My boy pussy is still tight, though my once smooth, bubble butt has been marked up a bit by rough hands and abrasive pubic hair.
He fucked me roughly, hard and deep without cumming, then he spun me around and stuffed the length of his big prick into my mouth. I sucked his substantial cock for a good twenty minutes...he held my ears the entire time. Then he pulled out of my mouth, his engorged dick was red from the lipstick and emptied his balls on my face. I knew what was coming next when he shoved his spent dick back in my mouth.
"See ya around, queer."
Who's calling who a queer? I thought as I wiped the cum and lipstick off my face and popped the top off a can of Mountain Dew. Pepsi's good too, but Dew's the best to rinse the bitter taste of urine from your mouth.
CHAPTER TWO
My unwed mother died in childbirth. I was raised in an orphanage until I was five years old and then in a series of foster homes. The Warners, Mary and John, took me into their loving home when I was ten. They took in a lot of innocent young boys during the years I was with them and turned out a lot of happy, well-adjusted, sixteen year old homosexuals. Well-trained homosexuals, faggots, to work in the family business.
Watch one, get one, give one...a blow job, then decide if you wanted to stay with the Warners. "It's entirely up to you, Steven," John explained for the second time after I had taken the first two steps on the road to becoming a faggot. I'd never seen a blow job before, much less gotten one. My decision was easy.
Not every boy stayed. Some boys left after a day or two, before the homosexual lessons began. The Warners were nudists, we rarely wore clothes in the house and backyard and some boys were too embarrassed to be completely naked all the time. I though it was fun. And some boys left because they wouldn't or couldn't deal with a dick in their mouths. The Warners were training young boys to be faggots, those that were unwilling or unable to suck dick were helped to find new foster homes.
"You can stay with the family, Steven. Mary and I would like you to stay...learn how to be a fag. But the final decision to become a homosexual is yours."
I gave one to my foster brother Gary while the rest of the family watched and cheered me on. I sucked his dick and swallowed his cum without a single gag. Mary hugged me, said I was a natural, a born cocksucker. John kissed me and asked how I liked a prick in my mouth.
I liked it just fine and I told him. I also liked the love and attention I got for sucking Gary's cock, the sense of being part of a family.
"And the taste of Gary's cum?"
"It's yummy," I said honestly. "Yummy cum. Could I have more?"
I gave all six of my older foster brothers blow jobs that afternoon and swallowed all their yummy cum. John let me suck his big cock too, and play with his balls, while he sucked my little one. Then Mary arranged all the boys in a daisy chain so that everybody had a cock to suck.
The rule of watch one, get one, give one applied to my other hole too. I got one from John by sitting on his cock after Mary had lubed my ass, and gave one to Robert, doggy style, who complained the whole time I was fucking him.
"Steven's puny cock is too small," Robert whined. "I can hardly tell that he's in my pussy. He's too young to wet cum...it's not fair that he gets to fuck me."
I was doing my best, giving it my all, but I didn't have the right tool for the job. Almost two years would pass before I got my first pubic hair and started making sperm. The Warners gave me a cock ring and butt plug to celebrate the happy occasion, and my cock is still on the small side.
"I'll fuck you when Steven's done," Gary volunteered. "Fuck you hard with my big dick and fill your pussy with cum."
Gary straddled Robert's back and brought his hard-on to my mouth. "Suck it for me," he whispered. "Get my prick wet and we'll give Robert a surprise."
With Mary's assistance, Gary joined me in Robert's ass. I held on for the wild ride while he did all the work. Robert wasn't complaining now, not with two cocks in his pussy. "Oh, god, this feels so good. "Oh, god, fuck me. Harder, goddamnit, fuck me harder."
He came before Gary did, all over the floor. Gary filled his pussy, the warmth of his cum surrounded my spasming cock. John congratulated me for completing my first fuck, then he turned his attention to Robert.
"What about me?" Robert said. "Don't I get congratulated for completing my first double fuck? Taking two cocks in my pussy?"
"I'm angry with you, son," John replied in a stern voice.
Robert stopped playing with the cum oozing from his pussy. "Angry at me? Why? What did I do wrong?"
"Can anyone of you boys tell Robert what he did wrong?"
"He didn't say thank you to Steven and Gary after the fucking," one boy shouted out. "And he didn't kiss the two cocks that had fucked him, didn't lick them clean of pussy juice and cum."
"Very good, James. That's part of it. Anyone else?"
"After the fucking he didn't offer to share the cum in his pussy?"
"That's right too," John said. "Robert was selfish, only concerned for his own pleasure. A selfish fag won't go far in the family business."
"Yeah, he was a selfish fag," James agreed. "He could have told us that he was going to cum with the cocks in his pussy. There was room to squeeze in between his legs, one of us could have taken Robert's cock in our mouth and enjoyed his cum. He didn't have to waste a perfectly good load of sperm on the floor."
"I'm sorry," Robert sobbed, hanging his head in shame. "The fucking was so good...thank you both for fucking me, I wasn't thinking about anything except the cocks in my pussy."
Robert crawled around the room and kissed every boy's cock to show how sorry he was. He saved me for last. "I'm sorry that I called your cock puny, Steven, you have a very nice cock for a fag your age."
Robert got severely punished anyway: no cock or cum in his mouth for one whole week, no cock in his pussy for a month. And he had to watch without touching his cock as I continued my lessons on the road to becoming a boy whore.
The reason he got punished? Mary and John Warner were Catholics, we all went to church every Sunday. And Robert, while Gary and I were double dicking him, had taken the lord's name in vain.
I liked going to church and, when it was my turn, to the private prayer meeting with Father Tim after the regular service. Not Father Francis as much because he was old and his cock never got hard no matter how much I sucked it or licked his asshole and balls. All he really wanted to do was lay naked with me on the altar in his office and pretend that I was baby Jesus.
Father Tim liked to lick and kiss every inch of my hairless body, suck my little cock and balls as much as Father Francis. But then he'd hoist me, baby Jesus, onto his big, hard dick and chant prayers in the private chapel. His bushy pubes tickled my ass as I rode up and down, fucked myself on his great cock while he prayed. You better believe I said thank you after he filled my boy pussy with cum, and licked his cock and balls spotlessly clean.
The two priests often came to the Sunday dinners that Mary and John hosted each month. Other men came too, Mary was a good cook, but I think the men enjoyed the after dinner entertainment even more than the food. We put on quite a performance, my foster brothers and I, in a show we called the Faggot Follies. There were three acts; Pricks on Parade, Cavalcade of Cocksuckers and Pussy Panorama, with music and costumes.
CHAPTER THREE
I proudly wore the cock ring all the time, a sign of my sexual maturity. Shortly after they gave it to me, the Warners sat me down one morning to talk about my future.
"You've done very well these past two years, Steven," John began. "Your cocksucking and cum eating skills are already excellent, and your boy pussy is developing into a first class cunt. Are you happy as a homosexual, happy living here as a fag?"
"Yes, sir. Very happy."
"You've done well in school too, Mary and I are happy about that. Education is important and we want all of our boys to attend college."
"Father Tim thinks you should enroll in the seminary after high school, that you'd make a fine priest."
"But, Mary, I want to be a fag when I grow up."
"Same difference, dear," Mary chuckled, hugging me to her bare breast. "You can be both, dear, a fag and a priest."
"When would I have to decide?"
"Not for years," John said. "Let's not forget that you're only twelve years old..."
"Almost thirteen, John, my birthday's coming up. And my cock has grown a whole inch bigger since I started making sperm."
"Yes, well, there's still years to go before you have to decide about the priesthood. But if you're certain that you want to be a fag when you grow up..."
"I really do, John. I really want to be a fag."
"And work in the family business?"
"Yes, sir. But only after I complete my apprenticeship as a boy whore in Times Square."
"Then we have to find out now what kind of fag you'll be."
"Is there more than one kind of fag?" I asked.
"What John meant to say is that we have to find out how you react sexually to members of the opposite sex."
"Girls?"
"Yes, dear, girls. Do you like girls, Steven?"
"I like you, Mary."
"Would you like to have sex with me?"
"How could we, Mary?" I said seriously. "You don't have a cock."
Yes, I really said that and being well-trained I meant it. Having sex meant a cock in my mouth, sucking, or taking a cock in my boy pussy. Mary and John laughed so hard and for so long that I got scared and started to cry. Mary wiped away my tears and John explained some things about heterosexuals, bisexuals and homosexuals.
"How do I know if I'm bi?" I asked when he was done. John's answer made me blush. "Naked with a girl? Let a girl see my cock? No way."
"I'm a girl, dear, and I see your lovely cock all the time."
"It's settled then," John said. "Go put on some clothes while I make a call. We'll start with a girl your own age and see what happens."
Jane was pretty. She and her mother were waiting with John and Mary, who had also gotten dressed. She had long blond hair the same color as mine and big blue eyes. If she'd been a boy I would have kissed her instead of shaking hands.
"Let's get started, shall we?" John said, taking a seat with the ladies. Jane and I stood alone at the foot of the bed. "Relax, children, be yourselves and let mother nature take over. A kiss first, children, then take offÔ h) 000*°° Ô your clothes and hop onto the bed."
Jane had little breasts, a little blond bush and she had little effect on me. I got hard for a moment when she took me in her mouth, but went limp in the middle of her sorry excuse for a blow job. Hard again when John told me to lick her pussy. I went for her ass like any fag would, went limp as a wet noodle when I put my tongue in the folds of the nasty tasting slit between her legs.
"We'll try a different girl tomorrow," John said after Jane and her mother left. "Someone older, with more experience."
The Warners brought in more girls and all I got was more horny. The girls tried hard, but I couldn't keep it hard unless I closed my eyes and thought about cock. My foster brother's cocks were off limits to me during the grand experiment and they'd been warned not to suck mine or let me fuck them either. Robert, still feeling badly about the fucking incident, came to my rescue.
"You can't suck me and I can't suck you," he said one morning on the way to school. "We're not even allowed to jerk off into your mouth."
"I know, Robert, and I don't want to get you guys in trouble with John and Mary. I'm going crazy though, without a cock in my mouth and I really miss eating cum."
"Maybe I can help you out after all," Robert offered. "I've been secretly blowing some high school guys after school and if you promise to keep it a secret, I'd be willing to share them with you."
"Really?"
"Do you promise?"
"I do, sure. I won't tell. Going down on high school guys, wow. Where are you doing it?"
"In the basement of the big apartment house on Elm Street. They sneak me in through a window."
I met Robert after school and we ran all the way to Elm. "Through here," he said, leading me through an alley to the back of the building, to a ground level window. Just before he was about to tap on the closed window he turned to me and said, "They're colored."
"Who's colored?"
"The guys we're going to suck off. They're Negroes...youÔ h) 000*°° Ô know, black."
"I never sucked a black cock. Does it taste different?"
"No, of course not. Black dick tastes like white dick, only more filling because these colored guys have really big dicks. And foreskins filled with cheesy gunk...I don't think they shower every day."
"Okay," I said, my mouth was watering. "Let's do it. Let's suck some black cock."
"Wait, there's one more thing I should tell you."
"What?"
"They can be a little rough sometimes. And bossy. They never hurt me though in all the times I've been here. Just be prepared to do whatever they want, you know, act like a slave."
Slave and master was a fantasy game we played at home. "Act like a slave? No problem."
Robert tapped on the glass and the window opened. He climbed down first, assisted by two large black hands. I heard voices and laughter, then the black hands returned to help me through the window.
Robert was already on his knees with a humongous black dick in his mouth and a dick in each hand. A fourth black guy was running his dick and balls along Robert's spine. Everybody was naked and Robert's white body sandwiched by black ones looked like the filling in an oreo cookie. The black hands that had helped me through the window now helped me take off my clothes and helped me to my knees. I helped myself to his jet black cock and balls.
My first cock in more than a week...I sucked like it might be my last. Forget girls, this was exactly where I belonged; on my knees with a hard dick between my lips and heavy, sperm-filled balls eager to cum in my faggot, cocksucker mouth.
"Fuckin' A blow job, cocksucker. You give better head than your fag friend."
I looked up and winked, accepting the compliment, then put my hands on his ass and pulled him even deeper into my suctioning mouth. Robert wasn't a great cocksucker, too strong a gag reflex, but his incredible boy pussy was made to take cock. He could sit on the biggest, fattest dildo in the Warner's collection, the fifteen incher, and never lose his hard-on. My pussy and boner was about to be tested too.
My feet never touched the ground and the cock never left my mouth as I was lifted up from my knees and carried to a low table. I couldn't see the guy behind me, only felt his big hands spreading open the cheeks of my ass and his spongy cockhead poking at my hole.
"Get the other fag over here to lick this fag's asshole. Gonna use my civil rights and fuck me a pretty white boy."
The black guy in my mouth started to laugh. "No way, mothafucker," he said." I seen your dick and it ain't goin' up this faggot's pussy with spit. You need jizz, man, a big load of slick jizz to get your big fat nigger dick in the white fag's cunt."
"Where my gonna get jizz?"
"From the fag's mouth after I nut. Get a cup, man, this cocksucker's about to get me off."
I hated to give up the tasty load, but spit I did into the cup and soon felt a dick forcing its way into my pussy. He pushed forward and I pushed back and my cock went off like a rocket. Cumming with a dick in my ass was awesome. The guy fucking me liked it too because he shot off a moment later and filled my pussy with cum.
I scrambled around when he pulled out of my pussy, hungry for another taste of cum. "Let me clean it for you," I pleaded, reaching for his shiny cock. Streaks of white cum stood out on the black shaft and clung to the hair on his balls. "Please let me suck it clean."
Three more colored guys fucked me, four more got off in my mouth and then we had to leave. Robert and I held hands while the black guys pissed on us, then we licked each other clean before we got dressed so the Warners wouldn't know how we spent the afternoon.
The grand experiment continued for another week, as did my daily visits with Robert to the black guys on Elm Street. The last girl the Warners tried slept naked with me the entire night. I slept like a baby and dreamed about all the wonderful black cocks I had serviced that afternoon. Mary and John Warner finally concluded that girls did nothing for me, that I didn't have a bisexual cell in my body.
"Homosexual through and through," I happily reported to Robert on the way to school. "Cocksucker and pussy boy, one hundred percent fag."
CHAPTER FOUR
The family business, located in a nondescript four story building a block west of Times Square, was a combination nightclub, restaurant, bath house spa and escort service. We catered primarily to homosexuals. Women were allowed in the ground floor club on Tuesdays, very few came alone. The rest of the week it was men only, to relax, have a few drinks and watch the all but naked Go-Go-Boys in action.
"They're good," I said to John as we paused a moment to watch the rehearsal before going upstairs. It was like a professional production of the Faggot Follies, the show that my younger foster brothers still put on at home. I wondered aloud if these beautiful, sexy, gyrating boys in g-strings were also homosexuals.
"Chorus boys," John said. "A dime a dozen in New York. Boys who'll dance here for tips while looking for work in a Broadway show. You could try it on amateur night."
"I'll keep the job I have, thanks."
Masters, a continental restaurant occupied the second floor. A quiet place, expensive, offering fine wines and great food in a relaxed atmosphere. An elegant and safe setting where a man could bring his own date, or select a handsome companion from the roster of available boys. A memorable dinner and an even more memorable night of homosexual sex was guaranteed.
The spa was on the third floor; steam room, sauna, hot tub and lounge. Towels optional and group sex expected. The aroma of male sweat and spent cum perfumed the air. The fourth floor had bedrooms for private encounters, equipped with every imaginable sexual device and toy. The rooftop garden was probably my favorite space. Laying on my back with a man mounted on top of me, watching the stars as I spread my legs and guided his cock into my pussy was like being in heaven.
"You're booked every night this week and next," John said as we entered the employees locker room. "Can you handle the load and still keep up with your studies?"
"I can handle it, John," I said, tossing my theology books and clothes into a locker and headed towards the shower. Having successfully completed my apprenticeship on the street, servicing dozens of men a week, giving myself to just one or sometimes two men a night was like being on vacation.