Jump to content

On The Job Training


Gymguy8

Recommended Posts

1. Aiden

I first saw Jay on a Friday night, early October. I was out at a club, standing by the side of the dance floor, watching the endless parade of bright young things. Tonight, it seemed a little more college boys, a little less desperate twenty-something actors. I didn't really care that much about the crowd. It was a mixed night, and I was already too busy defending myself against horny drunk girls, much less trying to separate the gay boys from the straight men.

But first, I should probably back up and introduce myself. I'm Aiden. I'm fifty years old, and I've been in that other industry since I was twenty. We never call it anything other than "The Industry," if we even call it anything at all. Activists might call it "sex work" in an effort to give it legitimacy or make it seem more glamorous than it really is. But there is nothing glamorous about the life of a boy selling his body. In order to survive, you must become someone not quite human. You must become a creature who just enacts the core human emotions like empathy, love, and care. You can't survive with real emotions.

I was one of the lucky ones. I grew up and graduated. I'm no longer one of the boys. I'm a pimp, and now I get to own the boys. It's not an accident that we call it owning; it's about as close to slavery as it gets these days. It sounds cruel, but I believe it is better this way. It's easier on the boys in the long run if they understand that they are possessions, things to be bought and sold, passed around and shared. The entire process is easier for a bottom, of course. They already understand that they are just vessels for another man's pleasure.

Yeah, I said man there. It's a straight boy's fantasy to be paid by women for sex. It. Does. Not. Happen. For men, the Industry is only about man on man, and the sooner a so-called straight boy figures that out, the better for him. In the Industry, we call that process "breaking a boy." The best of us pimps can do it in our sleep. Once you get the hang of it, it's easy, and for me, it came naturally. Of course, it's never easy for the boy. It is always a struggle for a boy to accept his position in the Industry.

Back to the night at hand. I had a vodka and cranberry in my hand; I had been nursing it slowly enough that the ice had melted, leaving it weak and watery. I was waiting for the boys to start to approach me. It might take a second or third drink, but they always did. They might claim to be straight, but it didn't matter. Straight boys don't approach fifty year old men in a club. Only gay boys do, and those are only the ones with serious daddy issues. 

Jay approached me right as I was thinking about ditching my drink and getting another one. The first thing I noticed was his glasses. It was unusual to see a guy out at the club with glasses, much less the striking blue frames he had on. The second thing I noticed was that he was holding a drink. I wondered how he had gotten the drink; he barely looked old enough to fuck, much less to be able to get a drink. No doubt he had a fake ID. Before I got him naked, I'd have to see his real ID. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," I replied. I smiled, letting him see my teeth. "Having a good night?" 

"Yeah," he said. "First time here. It's great." 

"Cool. I'm Aiden," I said.

"Jay," he replied. He held out his hand, and I shook it. His skin was soft and warm. He had an easy life and hadn't gained the rough skin and calluses of manual labor. "You here alone? Or are you with friends?"

"I was here with friends. But I seem to have lost them." He looked around again, in a feeble effort to find them amidst the crowd. "I was talking to a girl, and I guess they moved on."

I tried not to laugh. He may have been talking to a girl, but that wasn't what he really needed. "Cool. What happened to her? She still around?" 

"Somewhere," he said, looking around the club again. He focused on the dance floor, and pointed someone out. "There she is. The Asian chick." I followed his finger the best I could. There was a cute Asian girl; dressed in a way that screamed money. I looked Jay over again. She wasn't completely out of his league. At about 6'1", he was a few inches taller than me and his tight graphic t-shirt showed off his muscular body well. But, even from the few words we had exchanged, I could tell he was still young, naive and unfamiliar with talking to girls.

"She's cute," I said. "You like Asian girls?"

"I dunno," he said. "It all depends on the girl." 

"What do you like?"

"Oh. You know. A little shorter than me. Not too big. Not really a breast man." Or, I thought, he likes his girls boyish. It was already clear that he liked his men to be daddies.

"I need another drink," I said. "You want one?"

"Yeah, that would be great." 

"This way," I said. He followed me to the bar. "How long have you been in LA?" I asked as we got in line.

"A little over a month," he said. "I'm a freshman at USC." I wasn't surprised. He had the good looks of someone who had spent his entire life never worrying about money. He anticipated my next question. "I grew up outside of Denver." He also had the rugged build of someone for whom the outdoors was easy to get to. "What about you?"

"Been here for too long," I said. "Moved here when I was eighteen. Grew up in rural Missouri." I didn't want to give too many details. It was my job to know everything about his life; it was just as important that I remain an enigma to Jay. 

"What do you do?"

"I work in the industry." He didn't need to know which industry it was; I knew he would assume it was the entertainment industry. That was not too far from the truth.

"Oh cool. I want to be a producer."

"A lot of my good friends do that." Despite changes in social mores, Hollywood was still surprisingly old-fashioned. At least once a week, a producer would call me needing a "new friend" for some celebrity needing some play time without the tabloids finding out. Or they wanted something more reliable than what they could find themselves. 

The line was moving quicker than I expected. It wasn't long before we were nearly there. "What are you drinking?" I asked. "Are you even old enough to be drinking?"

"Well. My ID says I am. And it's a vodka and soda."

"Good answer," I said. "For both." I'd really have to see his ID before anything happened. I didn't worry about alcohol. No one would prosecute for just giving an under-age kid a drink. But sex, well, that was a totally different story. "Two Grey Goose and soda."

"Nice," Jay said. "Been drinking well tonight." This was almost like shooting fish in a barrel. I would show him a little bit of the good life, and get him used to it. "I'm here on a scholarship," he continued. 

He had pulled it off well. But then I looked him over again. The subtle flaws that I had missed when I had first examined him were obvious now that I knew to look for them. The shirt, although fashionable, had the awkward drape I associated with a knock-off. His glasses were the same: the color wasn't perfect, and there were some hard edges to the design that I associated with a cheap chain store. Call it Lenscrafters chic. The barrel just got smaller, and the fish bigger. It would be easier than I expected.

I handed him his drink. "Cheers," I said. He didn't flinch from my gaze as we clinked glasses. "To success," I said, not specifying what success constituted. I was already running through a list of old friends of mine who would want to have first crack at the young man's ass. 

"Success," he replied. He was smiling; I wondered what success meant for him tonight. In the end, it didn't really matter what he wanted. So much of what I was going to do with him was going to be about teaching him what he wanted. Yeah, there would always be that initial spark of desire from him; he had shown it in spades. But there was a lot I was going to get to teach him, and in turn, mold it into a core part of not just his sexuality, but also his own identity. 

We took a sip of our drink, and scanned the crowd. It was a busy night, and on the dance floor, beautiful members of both sexes were out having a good time. As the night wore on, more of the boys were shirtless. Not only that, more of them no longer cared who they were grinding against. It could have been a girl, it could have been a boy. 

"Fun night," Jay continued. I nodded in agreement. 

My pocket buzzed. The vibration was just enough to set off my dick. I had been keeping my thoughts high and abstract. But the sudden stimulation jerked me back to the present, and I wondered what his green eyes would look like, staring up at me as his lips were wrapped around my cock. "One second," I said, and pulled out my phone. 

"Crystal ParTy tonight," it began. It was from my friend ****, who was just as his messages. "One am. Intercontinental, Rm 1902. Bring yourself. Bring a good boy. Bring a friend."

"Looking forward. I've got both." I texted back. 

"$ounds good. eVeryThing covered here." My dick throbbed again. Jay was going to get quite the introduction tonight. I turned to the young man, even if it meant looking up at him. "Friend is having a party. Wanna come with me?"

"Where?" he asked, but even in the dim light, his pupils dilated enough to be noticed. 

"Downtown. I'll get us an Uber." 

"Awesome," he said. He moved a little closer to me and his lips pursed slightly at the end, like he was waiting for a kiss. Unfortunately, the moment passed. I knew what I needed to do.

"Follow me," I said, drinking down the rest of my drink quickly. He followed, gulping down the stiff drink. If I had timed it right, we'd be in the car when the alcohol hit him. "First, text your friends where you're going. Party at the intercontinental hotel."

I pulled out the phone again, and held it in front of us. "Quick selfie. My friend wants to see you." I'd also use it to run a fast auction of first breeding rights. The first one turned out perfect, and then Jay wanted one as well. He took a few before the deciding on the best one.

"Memories of a fun night," he said.

"Hopefully, it is just beginning, I said. "You should send it to your friend as well, so they know I'm not a psycho creeper." I could see him blush, but again, he also moved closer to me. He quickly texted someone. I was close enough I could read the text. "New friend I met. Invited me to a party downtown. See you tomorrow." 

"Thanks," Jay said, as he hit send. "For thinking of me. I wouldn't have even thought about it." I wondered what his friends would think of the picture. A young man and a much older man. My beard, although still thick, was more silver than brown now, and the wrinkles on my face were becoming more prominent. But perhaps they had already figured out what Jay was just discovering.

"It's fine," I said. I didn't tell him how this was an important part of the process. He needed to trust me, to think that I put him first and looked out for his best interests. But I only looked out for my interests. "It's fun to party and meet new people. But remember, not everyone is on the up and up. Not everyone has your best interests at heart." 

Just like me, I thought. I didn't have to worry about his friends knowing I had taken him somewhere. By the time things got really dangerous, he'd be begging me for it. The best times, they begged me to drug them, to breed them, to infect them. "One second," I said, as I sent a quick text attached to the picture of the two of us. "Fresh meat. Tonight only. Bidding starts at two." I sent it to three of my old friends, Rod, Steven, and Alex. Each of them had a fondness for younger boys, and each of them absolutely loved the idea of deflowering a freshly-minted man.

"200," Rod texted back. 

A few seconds later, Steven replied. "250."

"Wanna head out?" I asked Jay. "We can get a cab there."

"Sure," he said. I walked towards the exit. I made it a point not to turn around for the first few steps. I knew he would follow me, and he did. He kept close enough to me that I could feel his body heat. I turned around at the steps down off the dance floor. 

"Need some help," I asked and offered him my hand. He nodded, and I helped him down on to the sticky concrete floor. I thought I detected just the hint of a stagger; the alcohol was just beginning to hit. Hopefully the full rush wouldn't be far off. I had taken the side exit, right by the exit no one knew about. It was just a few steps before we were out in the warm night. "I'll get a uber," I said, and pulled out my phone again. I called for a car, then check the many messages I had received. 

The bidding was going nicely. "300," then "350", and then "400", quickly followed by "500." In just a few messages, it jumped to 750, and it now was at 90. That one had come in just a few minutes ago. As I unlocked the phone a new message came in. It was from Rod. "1300, with pozzing privileges." There were two things Rod loved more than anything. The first was deflowering young men. The second was infecting them with HIV.

"Pozzing is on the table? 1500." Steven also loved spreading his virus. 

"Hell yeah. 1750," Alex sent me. Alex also enjoyed sharing his virus. My old friends were twisted, nasty men.

"2000," Steven replied.

"2500," Rod answered back. Jay was going to make me a lot of money, and it wasn't even his first official day on the job. 

"I'm out," Alex texted the four of us. 

"Me too. Rod's a lucky pervert," Steven wrote back. 

"You win," I texted Rod. "I'll swing by and pick you up."

"Sounds good to me."

I checked the app. The car was still about five minutes away. "Five minutes," I said to Jay. We had stepped out onto a side street and it was dark and quiet. Despite being right in the middle of the busy section, we felt quite alone. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys and wallet. From my wallet, I extracted a small bag of white powder. "You ever had a skiing trip?" I asked, indicating the bag.

"Skiing?" Jay replied, his face showing his confusion.

"You know. Cocaine. Coke." I put the wallet away, and used the key to my front door to scoop up a little mound of the white powder. I snorted it quickly. "Fuck, that feels good." I rubbed my nose quickly. "You want to try?"

"I...I...I dunno. Never done it before." He hesitated, but kept on watching me. He was interested, I could tell. "I mean. What's it like?"

"You smoked pot?" He nodded. "Anything else?" I asked.

"Yeah, molly sometimes."

"That's good. It's like molly. Only you're stronger. You're fearless."

"I just," he started, but never completed the thought.

"Just one hit," I said. "See if you like it. Don't worry. You won't get addicted from one little bump."

"You sure?" he asked. I nodded. I also stuck the key back in the bag and pulled out another bump. It was smaller than the one I had done, but for a beginner, it was still plenty large enough. "I mean, I can just..."

"Try it?" I said, finishing his sentence. He nodded. "Yeah. You should." I held out the key with its white payload. "Just snort it up." Jay leaned in, pushed a finger against one nostril, and snorted. 

He snorted a bit longer than necessary. "Damn," he said, right after. "That burns." He trailed off just as an uncontrollable smile of bliss emerged on his face. "But, fuck." He trailed off again, lost in his little private world of pleasure as the cocaine got absorbed by his blood, and delivered to his brain. 

"It's nice. Just relax. Cab is almost here. If you want, you can do another bump when we're on our way."

"Yeah," Jay said. "That's a good idea. This is nice." Another euphoric moan of contentment. "Thanks. Really nice." 

"Enjoy it," I said. I pulled out my phone. 

"The boy need any vitamin G?" Rod had texted me.

"Why the fuck not?" I wrote back quickly. I turned my attention back to Jay. "A friend of mine wants to join us. Gonna swing by his place, if that's cool." 

"Oh, yeah, that's cool." Jay was still spinning a bit from the cocaine. My dick twitched, watching Jay ride the first waves of the high. The ease of convincing him to use cocaine meant that all the next steps would be easy. It would not be long before Rod's thick, infected dick was deep inside of him, dripping toxic pre-cum.

A white Prius pulled up. I checked the plates; not that I needed to, it was the epitome of Uber-ness. "Here's our ride," I said. I opened the door for Jay. He got in, but I still had to help him. I crawled in after him, as he scooted over to the far side. "9255 Doheny. The tall one." Rod was only about fifteen minutes away. "Good night?" I asked, as we pulled away and into the warm California night. 

"Yeah," he said. "Pretty busy." 

I pulled out the baggie, and Jay scooted a bit closer to me. "You mind?" I asked.

"Nah. Have fun."

"You want?" I asked.

"Damn, I wish. I but I gotta drive." 

I scooped out a big mound. Jay's naiveté was once more working in my favor. He had no idea about doses, much less what his dose should be. The mound was big, perhaps a little bigger than even I would want to start with. It would be just right for Jay. "For you," I said.

"Fuck," Jay said, eyeing the mound. He knew it was larger than his last bump, but he had no measure for how it would affect him. "Yeah," he grunted as he leaned in and snorted the mound. "OH. FUCK," he said out, filling the interior of the small cars with his grunts of pleasure.

"Newbie?" the driver asked.

"Yeah," I said. I scraped another bump, not quite as big as Jay's, and did it. I took a look at Jay; his eyes were wide, and I knew he was flying. I was just nicely buzzed; I would wait for the party before I got properly high. Besides, Rod had promised a bit of G, and I had to be the responsible adult, taking care of Jay. "Doing ok there, Jay?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Feels so good," he said. 

I smiled, and put my hand on his thigh. He was fidgeting a bit, and I held his leg in place. "Just relax. Enjoy it. Don't worry, I'll make sure it's good." 

"I know," Jay said. His leg stopped shaking, but I could feel the tension still in his body. "It's just hard," he started.

"To let go?" I asked, anticipating his next words.

"Yeah," he said. I just nodded in agreement. My own bump was kicking in, and I was floating on waves of pleasure. I wanted to see Jay naked. I wanted to see cock sliding into his hole. I wanted to see him bred. But all that needed to wait. It just needed to wait a few agonizing minutes. 

The traffic was surprisingly light and we were doing good time towards Rod's place. It gave me an excuse; I pulled out my phone and called him. "Yeah. Almost there. Less than 5 away. We'll be downstairs," I said.

"I've got the Vitamin G. Mixed it in some Gatorade," Rod said. That was what Jay couldn't hear.

"Yeah, bring that. We need something to drink," I said. That was the part that Jay could hear. "See you soon."

"That your friend?" Jay asked. "What's he like? What's his name again?"

"Rod. Rod Eisenman," I said. I flicked through my phone, trying to find a picture of Rod suitable to show the young man. Most of them were him fucking some hot young boy's mouth or ass. "He's cool. I think you'll like him." I finally found one, him shirtless at some street fair, a pair of thin black suspenders holding up his pants. Whether it was intentional or not, I noticed the top button of his pants was undone. 

"He looks like a cool dad. The one you can't quite believe is actually a dad."

"Yeah, that's a good way to describe him." We were pulling up to Rod's place. "Just pull in under the awning." There was no one else, so I figured we would wait. I rolled down the window to see out better. It was less than a minute before Rod walked out of the front door, a small backpack slung over his shoulder. In addition to the G-laced Gatorade, it would have some lube, a cockring or two, plus a pipe and a stash of tina. Rod was prepared for everything, except for safer sex.

He walked around, and got in on Jay's side of the car. Jay got the middle seat. "Hi," Rod said. "I'm Rod. You must be Jay." Rod put the backpack on the floor in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm Jay. Nice to meet you." 

"Good to meet you too. Aiden's been telling me a bit about you." 

"All set?" I asked Rod and Jay. They both nodded. "W hotel. On the boulevard," I told the driver.

"Right on," he said.

Rod reached down into the bag, and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. "Ready for your Vitamin G?"

"I'm definitely ready," I said. "And I'm sure Jay will want some. How much is in there?"

"I put in three doses."

"Perfect," I said. I reached over Jay, and took the bottle of Gatorade from Rod. I opened it and began to drink the sweet liquid. I could just barely taste the bitterness of the GHB. 

"Vitamin G? Doses?" Jay asked. The alcohol was wearing off, but the cocaine was still making his head spin. "What's that."

"Oh," Rod said. "Just some G in the Gatorade. You done it before?" Jay shook his head no. It was one more new thing for Jay to explore this weekend. "You'll love it. Makes you feel warm and happy. Takes the edge off of the cocaine."

I drank about a third of the bottle and then I passed it back to Rod. He quickly drank his third, before handing it to Jay. "Your turn. Just drink up," Rod said. The young man hesitated for a moment. Like I had earlier, Rod put his hand on Jay's leg. "Come on. We are all in this together. We'll look out for you." It was as much the tone as the content of Rod's words that got Jay to put the bottle back to his lips and gulp down. "Nice," Rod said. 

I noticed he hadn't taken his hand off of Jay's thigh. I didn't mind. Rod was paying over two thousand dollars for the pleasure of deflowering Jay. It was bad service to deny him the implicit pleasures of holding the boy's hand. Besides, as soon as Jay was done with the bottle he put his hand on top of Rod's. "How are you feeling?" Rod asked Jay. There was a kindness in his voice, one that I recognized well. It was the tone he used when he was trying to convince a boy to do things. Things like have bareback sex with him or to blast his seed into the boy's body.

"Good," Jay said. "Really good."

"That's what we want to hear," Rod said. "How do you know Aiden?" he asked, making small chat as the car took us to the night's next destination.

"Just tonight," Jay said. "But he's been really awesome."

"Of course. He's a cool guy. You're lucky to have met him." Jay's hand was still on top of Rod's. "How old are you?" Rod asked.

"18," Jay said. "I'm a freshman." 

"How has the adjustment been?" Rod asked. "Good?"

"Yeah. Still trying to meet people."

"Aiden's a good one for meeting people. He'll introduce you to a lot of new friends." I smiled. "Friends" was our code for clients. Rod was a "new friend" for Jay.

"I know. He's already introduced me to you."

"You feeling it yet? The G?" Rod asked.

"I think so," Jay said.

"How are you feeling?"

"Warm," Jay started. We rounded a corner fast than I expected, and not being belted in, Jay was pushed up against Rod. "Horny," I heard him whisper. 

Rod smiled. Jay leaned in, and their lips met. It was a short kiss, but it was a kiss. It wasn't an accident or the bumpy road. It was a real kiss, two men pressing their lips against each other. But it wasn't a long kiss. As soon as Jay realized what he had started, he pulled back. "Oh god, I'm sorry," he said.

 
 

  • Like 30
  • Upvote 53
  • Thanks 1
  • Downvote 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use, Privacy Policy, and Guidelines. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue.