Twisted Oliver 3
All the usual provisos and conditions apply.
Apologies to fans of Charles Dickens for the liberties I have taken with his characters. I assume, however, that regular visitors to this website will not be too upset by the additions I have made to his story. Unfortunately my own poor efforts pale in comparison to those of the great man.
Twisted Oliver
Hugh Cox
CHAPTER 3
The sparsely furnished room was only dimly lit by a single lamp on the table by the window. However it gave enough light for any casual onlooker to see that the room had two occupants both of whom were on the lone, narrow wooden bed. Even had there been no light at all, the imaginary onlooker would have had no difficulty in working out what the two occupants were doing. The creak of the bed boards below the mattress, the rhythmic `slap, slap' of skin against skin and the animal grunting emanating from at least one of the pair left no doubt as to what was occurring in the room.
One of the occupants was a Mr Green; or at least that was what was written on the rental agreement. His family, friends and colleagues all knew him by a different name and would have been shocked to see the respectable, middle aged gentleman in his current condition. He kept the dingy little room purely for these sordid trysts and ensured that the man from whom he rented it had no idea of his real identity.
The other occupant was a thirteen year old lad who went by the rather colourful soubriquet of `The Artful Dodger' or simply Dodger to his friends and acquaintances. To the gentlemen of the law he was known by his real name of Jack Dawkins but it was his success in avoiding the aforesaid gentlemen that had earned him his nickname.
Dodger was currently kneeling on the bed, leaning forward with his weight on his forearms and his head touching the pillow. Mr Green was kneeling behind him, holding the boy's hips and ramming his thick, hard 6" cock in and out of Dodger's well lubricated arsehole. The grunts were all coming from Mr Green, as the pleasure was all his; for Dodger this was purely a business transaction, to which his limp penis attested.
`Turn over onto your back,' Mr Green said. Dodger complied and they completed the manoeuvre without cock leaving arse. The man lifted the boy's right leg and placed on his own left shoulder, the other leg he left lying across his right thigh. He started to fuck the boy again but this time he jacked the boy's cock with his right hand at the same time. He liked it when the boy he was fucking came too; it added to the fantasy that they were lovers rather than the reality of rent boy and customer. Dodger soon stiffened up under Mr Green's ministrations and the man speeded up; the creaks, slaps and grunts increasing in intensity.
`Ugh; ugh; ugh. Oh God, yes. I'm cumming,' Mr Green called out as he unloaded in Dodger's chute. He redoubled his efforts on the boy's cock and soon after he came as well; his thin, watery boy juice spurting out onto his chest and stomach.
The man's softening cock came out of the boy's arse with a slight popping sound. Dodger didn't have to be told what to do; Mr Green was a regular client of his. He turned himself around and started to lick and suck on the man's penis, removing all the bodily fluids from its surface. When he was satisfied, Mr Green lay back on the bed. `You can stay the night if you want,' he told the boy.
Dodger lay down next to the man and pulled the sheet over them. He liked jobs like this; it was much better than working the streets and fucking in some dark alley or park. It was also much safer; many boys got beaten up or even killed and the authorities didn't make much effort to find the perpetrators. Mr Green was a gentleman and had started asking for Dodger by name when he went to Fagin for a boy. That suited the pimp because he was able to increase the price for a customer who was particular. Not all the toffs were gentlemen mind; there was one who called himself Monks – no more real than Mr Green – who was partial to the youngest boys and regularly sent them back bleeding and crying in pain. Dodger couldn't understand why Fagin allowed him to get away with it; it was all down to money, of course. He also liked to stay the night in this room; it might not be much but it was preferable to being back at Fagin's place, with up to a dozen boys fighting for space.
* * *
On the afternoon of the seventh day of his journey Oliver limped slowly into London. Exhausted and covered in dust he sat down on a doorstep. People passed to and fro; some stared at Oliver as they passed by but none troubled to inquire how he came to be there.
At length Oliver became aware that he was being watched from the other side of the road by a boy who had passed by earlier and had now returned. Eventually the boy crossed over and asked, `Are you new to these parts? I ain't seen you round 'ere before.'
`Yes,' replied Oliver, `I've been walking for seven days and I'm very hungry and tired.'
He was one of the oddest looking boys Oliver had ever seen. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen; a common enough looking boy with dark hair and a snub nose; but he had all the airs and graces of a man. His hat was perched on his head at such a jaunty angle that it looked likely to fall off at any moment. He was wearing a man's coat which reached nearly to his heels with the cuffs turned back to his elbows to get his hands out of the sleeves; hands which were thrust into his trouser pockets.
`Seven days!' exclaimed the odd boy. `Blimey, no wonder you look so done in. You got any lodgings?'
Oliver shook his head in the negative.
`Well it's your lucky day, I know a respectable old gentleman wot'll give you lodgings for nothing if you're introduced by someone he knows.'
The unexpected offer of shelter was too good to turn down and the two boys set off, chattering together in a friendly manner. They exchanged names and Oliver discovered that his new friend was called Jack Dawkins although he preferred to be called Dodger.
After some time they reached a run-down area of the city; a dirtier more wretched place Oliver had never seen. The place was crawling with ragged children and drunken men and women were positively wallowing in filth. Oliver was just considering whether to reject the offer of accommodation when his companion caught him by the arm, pushed open the door of a house and drawing him into the passage, closed it behind them.
It was dark in the passage and Oliver groped with one hand while Dodger led him by the other to a staircase at the end. They ascended the rickety stairs with a speed which showed Oliver that his companion was well acquainted with them. At the top Dodger threw open the door to a back room and led Oliver inside.
The walls and ceiling of the room were perfectly black with age and dirt. There was a deal table before the fire upon which were a candle, stuck in a bottle, two or three pewter pots, a loaf and butter, and a plate. In a frying-pan, which was on the fire, some sausages were cooking and standing over them, with a toasting-fork in his hand, was a very old shrivelled man, whose villainous-looking and repulsive face was obscured by a quantity of matted red hair. Several rough beds made of old sacks, were huddled side by side on the floor. Seated round the table were four or five boys, aged from about ten to fifteen, smoking long clay pipes and drinking spirits with the air of middle-aged men. These all crowded about their associate as he whispered a few words to the man and then turned round and grinned at Oliver.
`Fagin, may I present my new friend, Mr Oliver Twist,' said Dodger, as if he was introducing two toffs at a society party.
`We are very glad to meet you Oliver,' said Fagin shaking him warmly by the hand. `Dodger, take off the sausages; lads make some room for Oliver at the table.'
They all then had their supper of sausages and bread and butter, with Oliver eating his share. Fagin then mixed him a glass of hot gin and water; telling him he must drink it off directly, because another gentleman wanted the tumbler. Oliver did as he was asked and immediately afterwards he felt himself lifted gently on to one of the sacks; and then he sunk into a deep sleep.
* * *
Oliver awoke late the next morning after a long and sound sleep. There were only three other people in the room, Fagin, Dodger and another boy of about fifteen years of age with dirty blond hair who, Oliver remembered, was called Charlie Bates.
`Good morning, my dear,' Fagin greeted him as he rose from the bed. `Did you sleep well?'
`Yes, thank you,' Oliver replied.
`Very good,' said Fagin. `Well my dear, all the boys who live here have to earn their keep and this morning we're going to teach you how to do just that. Have you ever sucked a man's cock Oliver?'
`Oh yes,' he replied brightly. This was starting to sound interesting.
`Do you think you could suck this one?' the man asked, pulling his penis out and showing it to the boy.
Oliver gulped, Fagin's cock was six inches soft, `I'll try,' he said.
Fagin, being Jewish, was circumcised and his was the first cut cock that Oliver had seen. He knelt in front of the man and took the head into his mouth and started to suck. Fagin's penis soon stiffened up and when he was fully erect it stood an impressive nine inches. Oliver decided that it wasn't as thick as Mr Sowerberry's but that just made it seem even longer.
`See how much you can take in,' Fagin told him. Oliver did his best and managed to swallow about two thirds before he gagged and had to lift off. `Not bad,' said the man, `Dodger, show him how it's done.'
Oliver moved aside and Dodger took his place. The younger boy looked on wide-eyed as the other swallowed the entire nine inches in one practiced movement and proceeded to give Fagin an expert blow job; bringing the man to climax in a few minutes. When it was over Fagin tidied himself up and told Dodger and Charlie to give Oliver a few lessons.
The three boys moved over to the beds and stripped off. Charlie sat at the head of one bed, spread his legs and jacked his cock until it was fully hard. He was a little over six inches in length, about the same around and was uncut. Under Dodger's direction, Oliver knelt between Charlie's legs, pulled back his foreskin and went down on him. Dodger gave Oliver constant instruction on using his tongue, lips and throat. He explained how to relax and breathe through the nose so as to swallow a cock completely without gagging; about using the tongue on the glans and the shaft; especially the sensitive area where the foreskin was attached. He also made sure that Oliver didn't ignore Charlie's ball sack; both licking it and sucking the balls individually.
When Dodger was happy that Oliver was doing well; the groans from Charlie confirmed that; he moved away for a moment and returned with a bottle of oil. With Oliver kneeling over Charlie's groin, his arse was exposed and that was too good an opportunity for Dodger to pass up. He poured a little oil into Oliver's crack and rubbed it around the young boy's pucker; he then pushed an oiled finger firmly into the warm hole. Oliver moaned around the penis in his mouth as he felt the finger push through his sphincter. Dodger soon added a second finger and then a third; pumping them in and out and twisting them as he attempted to widen the channel. Oliver moaned again; Dodger's fingers were narrower than those of Mr Bumble and although he felt some discomfort at first he didn't feel any real pain.
Dodger applied some oil to his five inch, slim cock; not bad for a thirteen year old; lined it up with Oliver's open entrance and shoved it in. As the head passed through his sphincter, Oliver felt a brief stab of pain; but nothing like the pain he had experienced the first time he had been fucked. With the head of his cock in Oliver's arse Dodger paused to make sure the boy was alright and then pushed all the way home until his balls were pressed against Oliver's cheeks. Again Oliver felt a burning pain but it passed quickly and, when Dodger asked if he was ready, he stopped sucking Charlie just long enough to turn, smile and nod his head in agreement. Dodger pulled back until just the head remained inside Oliver and then pushed back in; he rocked his hips back and forth, moving his cock in and out of the young boy in front of him.
Oliver was in heaven; after the agony of penetration he had liked being fucked by Mr Bumble; and he had thoroughly enjoyed sucking Mr Sowerberry's cock. Now he was getting both at the same time and he loved it. Although Dodger wasn't hitting the spot inside him that had felt incredible and made him cum, it still felt wonderful and he didn't want that feeling to ever stop.
All good things come to an end, however and Dodger soon felt his orgasm approaching; he speeded up, driving in and out faster and faster until he came with a shout; pumping his seed into Oliver's welcoming arse.
`Switch places,' Charlie said to Dodger. They both pulled out and turned the small boy around. Oliver eagerly licked and sucked on Dodger's cock while Charlie got to his knees and, without any ado, rammed his six and a bit inches fully into Oliver's hole; a hole that was by now well lubricated with oil and cum. Oliver gave a yelp as the larger cock entered him but the pain only lasted a few seconds and he resumed cleaning Dodger as Charlie pounded at his back door. Charlie had been close to cumming before he started the fuck and so it only took a few minutes before he unloaded five or six spurts of semen inside Oliver.
Charlie pulled out and the two older boys pushed the younger one onto his back. Charlie straddled Oliver's chest and fed him his cock to clean. Meanwhile Dodger took Oliver's two inch cocklet into his mouth and began to suck it vigorously. The feeling of a hot wet mouth engulfing his boyhood was amazing to Oliver and he now understood why others enjoyed it so much when he did it to them. The good feelings started to build within him and he began humping into Dodger's mouth. A few seconds later he had his best dry cum yet and slumped back on the bed, drained of energy.
The boys dressed and Dodger walked over to Fagin who had been sitting at the table watching with interest. `I think he's ready,' he said.
`Let's see shall we,' Fagin replied. He went over to Oliver and pulled out his nine inch cock which was hard again. He might have been getting on in years and had already cum once; but the hot scene he had just witnessed had been a real turn on for him.
Oliver grasped the long shaft and, following what Dodger had taught him, began to fellate the old man. After a few minutes of licking and sucking he attempted to swallow the massive prong. He managed about seven inches before gagging and coming back up for air. Remembering what Dodger had said about relaxing and breathing he made a second attempt and to his delight found his nose pressed into Fagin's pubic hair. Flushed with success, he proceeded to give the man the best blow job he could and before long Fagin came for the second time that day; something he hadn't done for many a year. Oliver ate the offering with relish and grinned up at the pimp.
`Well done, Oliver,' he said to the proud boy. `There aren't many lads who have managed that so quickly, I think you are going to make us both a lot of money.'
* * *
During the afternoon the other boys began to drift back from wherever they'd been and Fagin started giving them instructions; a couple were given names (false, of course) and addresses and the rest told which street corner they were to work. Before Oliver could be given an assignment they were interrupted when someone entered the room. `Fagin, it's Nancy,' a voice called out.
Oliver looked towards the door and saw what he thought was the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on walking across the room. `She's beautiful,' he whispered, `who is she?'
There was some giggling from a couple of the younger boys and Dodger answered, `That's Nancy, here to collect for Bill Sikes.'
`Who's Bill Sikes?' asked Oliver.
`He's the local guvnor,' replied Dodger. `Everyone around here has to pay Bill for protection and Nancy is here to collect.'
`Before going with Bill, Nancy was part of our gang,' Charlie added.
`Does Fagin have girls too?' Oliver asked, puzzled.
This elicited laughter from several boys; but before Oliver could ask what was so funny another figure entered the room. `Shit, it's Monks!' exclaimed Dodger and a silence fell over the assembled boys.
A tall, dark haired man with a haughty, arrogant look strode across the room towards Fagin. Oliver noticed that the youngest boys had cowered to the back of the group but he stayed where he was, intrigued by the new arrival. Monks glanced over at the boys as he passed and his eyes locked onto Oliver as soon as he saw him.
`I see you've got a new boy,' the man said without preamble. `How much do you want for him?'
`He's very green,' Fagin replied, `I don't think he's really suitable for you yet.'
`Nonsense, he's perfect; how much?' Monks insisted.
The two men stood together, talking too quietly to be heard by the boys. Oliver saw Fagin shake his head several times before finally shrugging his shoulders and nodding in agreement.
Fagin walked over to the boys, `Oliver, I want you to go with Mr Monks tonight; and you do whatever he tells you.'
`Fagin, you can't. . .' Dodger started; but the pimp cut him off with a glare.
Oliver followed Monks out of the room with a feeling of trepidation; a feeling that deepened as he looked back over his shoulder and saw the looks on the faces of his new friends.
To be continued – Oliver experiences the sadistic Monks and makes a surprising discovery.
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