Hard Start

"Borrowed it. It's a friend's. You wouldn't have gotten into your mom's car with me at the wheel, would you?"

"You've got that right."

"She misses you, Billy. We both miss you. Come on home. We'll talk about it. It will be better. You need to get back in school. I don't know how in the hell we're going to get you finished with high school. You're already a year behind in schooling. You need that certificate."

"I don't think so, Vince."

"Do you have money even for dinner? Money to cover someplace to stay for the night?"

"I have thirty dollars and the rest of the afternoon and evening to work the magic. You said all I had to do for it was to close the fuckin' car door. I can open it again."

"I lied. You can't have it unless you come home for dinner. How could this be better than being at home, Billy?"

"When I'm home and you ain't fucking Mom, you're fucking me. You're supposed to be Mom's boyfriend, not mine."

"Have any of your johns fucked you better than I do?"

Billy didn't want to answer that. One had, but only one out of three goes at it. Another one, Clarence, certainly had.

"And what are you doing out here?" Vince continued. "You're letting any man who offers you money fuck you, aren't you? Even weirdos who could stick a knife in you."

Billy didn't answer.

"We're going home. We can discuss this there." He pulled the car away from the curb. Billy didn't try to get out. He was weakening to the man. That's why he'd run away; he couldn't defend himself against this man.

Vince didn't drive straight back to the apartment house. He went to the same abandoned gas station Billy had been at earlier in the day, and he found a way to drive behind the building so that they were entirely out of sight from the street.

"Get in the backseat," he said when they were parked.

"Vince." It wasn't that Billy didn't melt to Vince's cocking; it was just that it wasn't getting Billy anywhere.

"You want the thirty dollars, get in the fuckin' backseat and strip your jeans off. Stop fighting it. You know you're gonna do it."

Vince climbed on top of the young man in the backseat of the Chrysler and fucked his lights out. They lay lengthways on the seat. Vince got between Billy's knees, shoved his knees under the young man's buttocks, palmed Billy's lower back, and pulled Billy's pelvis up to him, the young man's torso arching back to the cushion. Billy gasped as Vince entered him strongly and deep. Vince had such a nice, big cock, and he knew how to use it, making Billy melt when he went off cadence and found nooks and crannies with it that no other man did. Billy's legs went to jelly. The gates to his core opened and Vince sank right into the spongy softness, caressing Billy's walls deep inside his gut where Billy was destined to be owned by any man who could reach and work him there. Billy lay there on the seat, legs useless, arms dangling at his sides, the palm of Vince's hand on the small of his back holding his pelvis in position, all of his sensations centering on the shaft moving inside him, as Vince had his way with him.

Given knowledge of his power, Stan could own him. Clarence could own him. And Vince could own him. And Billy was only eighteen and already a whore for men. It was going to be quite a ride through life for him.

"God, you're so sweet. But you're not as tight as you were," Vince muttered. "You've been a naughty boy. You need to be punished."

"Yes, Daddy, punish me," Billy whispered, too easily falling back into the game he and his mother's boyfriend played. "Do me hard, Daddy. Fuck me deep." He wanted to tell him to stay and play in his soft core, but he didn't think Vince would understand what he meant.

Vince did him again hard, playing deep in his core, reveling in Billy's total submission to him. And he breeded him. Billy loved it, and his response gave Vince newly recognized power. The young man lay there, in Vince's arms, giving himself fully to the power of Vince's fuck. He always melted to it when Vince fucked him, but even more now that Billy had learned to unlock his core and sink down into it.

That was key to the problem. Billy loved being fucked by Vince. But he'd left once. He could leave again. And this time he wouldn't be so green as to let two fake cops fuck him. That Clarence, though, he was one hummer of a black bull. And he too had the key to Billy's core.