Hypocrites with Power

By Rob Loveboy

Edits by James FitzHugh

&

Len Homber

(all copyrights reserved)

Chapter Eight

 

The invincible mind of a junkie! 

 

Time healed all potential wounds. Life went on as usual, the governor entertained his friends, even added a few more on the recommendations of his regulars, mostly politicians. Father Murphy seemed to have no problem accommodating the demand … hell; he had hundreds of boys at his disposal.

 

*  *  *

 

Jamie’s stock of boy-meat, on the other hand, was getting worse. Not only were they getting older and shaving them to appear younger wasn’t working any longer but they were mostly strung out on crack-cocaine, couldn’t get it up and refused anal sex not to mention being a band of thieves. The governor’s allegiance to him was dwindling, Robert’s owed Jamie much for the clandestine services rendered over the many years and he didn’t waste any time  beginning to remind the powerful man of it every chance he got. He was becoming afraid he would be cut off from doing business at the mansion completely.

 

Jamie knew damn well what was happening within his harem. He knew that it was causing not only a downturn in his business with the governor, but also with his many other clients, a lot of whom had stopped calling and emailing for dates. Crack-cocaine was of epidemic proportions among young men and teens with the users getting younger and younger. It was dirt cheap even with the cops nailing the illegal home-kitchen manufactures every day, however every day three or  more sprung up.

 

He thought he struck gold when he met a pornographer, Richard Rutherford. Jamie supplied the studs on Viagra for shoots with little boys and girls of all ages. After that Jamie never questioned the modus-operandi of Richard’s acquiring them, he didn't want to know nor did he have the stomach to watch the scenes being filmed.

 

Jamie was also indulging in more cocaine than usual. Usually he only partook during sex with women or teenage boys but he found himself using more and more day-in and day-out. It soon became an expensive addiction but he refused to use crack as an economical alternative because he had seen what that shit did too many people over the years.

 

He lost his Mercedes to a creditor’s possession late one night and he was four months behind in his mortgage payments on his condo. Not only was his dealer threatening to cut him off his cocaine but also the Viagra that his fucking limp-dicked teens needed to make a smut film! After a while, he was short paying them claiming that the producer wasn’t happy with their performances lately and, in-turn, he had short paid him, which was partially true. Jamie hadn’t introduced fresh stud-bulls in months not to mention younger ones. He had lost his ‘way’ with boys because no longer had the midas touch thanks to the drugs. If only he could realize it. Sadly, denial does that.

 

Jamie knew that he had hit rock bottom when he asked Richard Rutherford for a spot in a kiddie-porn flick. He was paid two-hundred dollars to fuck a six-year old girl and a five-year old boy, Jamie’s face was not distorted or covered with a mask to protect his identity.

 

*  *  *

 

The governor held the largest party ever. Hundreds of guests attended his re-election gala at the mansion that Tuesday night after ballots were counted and finalized even though, however, the statistics CNN showed him well ahead of his opponent right from the start. His platform hadn’t changed from his campaign four-years before. He was for preventing gay marriage in the redneck state and in favor of the ruthless hunt of pornographers and sexual abusers of children. However, shockingly, that year in a very controversial bill, he proposed the lowering of  the legal age of consent from 16 to thirteen. The governor was tailor making laws to fit his own agenda and that of his pedo cronies.

 

Times have changed from when we were children, my friends, and you all know it. It’s time to address this delicate matter and not keep sweeping it under the rug.” His speech read. “No thanks to television, movies, music, advertisements and the internet, today’s kids are more aware of sex than ever. I say our own adulterated society is subliminally ramming it down their throats away from the morals taught by parental and religious doctrines. Let’s face it, I will be blunt. Kids as young as 13 are engaging in sex, statistics clearly show that phenomena. So do we keep our heads in the sand or face reality to prevent juvenile pregnancies from tapping our welfare system … which, mark my words, the experts believe will happen in the not too distant future.”

 

We have far too many teenage boys sixteen and over in prison because their girlfriend is fifteen even though they had been legally dating since age 12 and thirteen! This is ludicrous, another drain on the state's coffers not to mention the overcrowding of our prisons …”

 

The governor spoke well and the reaction of Joe Public was mixed. Robert’s had a motive to his madness. To him many of his constituents were … he hated using the term, but faced the reality, ‘hillbillies,’ living in the mountains whose cult ways of life never followed mainstream society views on age for sex as long as both were consensual and had reached the age of puberty. Teenage marriages were celebrated and encouraged for procreational reasons, more boys to work the land. Incest was not unheard of but most state governments had imposed a law forbidding sibling and first cousin marriages in the 1950s. The problem was that the mountain people simply didn’t register such marriages with the state. It was only after the clans began seeing the error in their ways after generations of same blood began breeding deformed and mentally challenged children. Everyone in the community was related somehow.

 

There was also the reality that many religious sects also practiced polygamy with numerous young wives in their stable. The rule of thumb was ‘To each; his own way of life; as they knew it’. Nonetheless, the governor’s proposed bill was also self-serving by intending to absolve the criminality of what he and many other men were doing with boys. The onus of the prosecutor would be to prove rape occurred in which case the offender would be penalized with even greater laws to be introduced in conjunction with Governor Roberts’ bill.

 

*  *  *

 

Even before the hoopla had ended that evening, men were making their way down to the games room where fifty boys from St. Vladimir's Orphanage waited playing billiards and video games. The governor was a collector of obsolete mechanical pinball machines that the kids found fascinating and which were more popular among many of them than the modern kind. The men were in no rush and played along with the kids with every bit as much enthusiasm, perhaps even taking themselves back in time and age.

 

Forty-two men were pre-invited for the after party. The largest orgy ever hosted by the governor, the celebration warranted it. Bowlfuls of Viagra, cocaine and ecstasy were available to set the mood. There were no hard drugs as none of Jamie’s boys had been procured for the night. Jamie knew it. Through a mansion insider he kept his thumb on the pulse and was infuriated but there was little he could do.

 

Tuxedos and other garments littered the floor; all were nude in a cluster on the carpeted floor. Both men and boys were skin to skin, shoulder to shoulder and  ass to face. Everywhere a man turned, there was a boy-cock to suck or an ass to lick. The cluster was ever moving with the movement of the throng of bodies like ocean waves with new opportunities presenting themselves by the minute.

 

For those that engaged, anal sex was no different. Just as a cock was buried, another pink hole came into close proximity and was plundered, the other boy moving off a few feet to be skewered once again by a new cock.

 

The after-party orgy petered out around 5am and men began departing to the available bedrooms with the boy of his choice. Some of the men would have to double up in a room for the night with the pecking order of status constituting the room assignments and who they shared the same bed with. A combination of cocaine and ecstasy kept them awake long enough to play some more or, for some, to cuddle up and rest until sunup for a final roll in the hay before breakfast was served on the pool deck. It was a great end to the sexual soiree with all the boys naked, eating and swimming.

 

*  *  *

 

Jamie knew the governor was celebrating his re-election for the third term in a row. He remembered being part of such a soiree and the man being extra virile in bed with him. There had been another boy in the bed with them whose name he didn’t remember. Jamie parked his 1991 Toyota beater outside the gates of the mansion and watched the flock of guests disperse. After the event there were still  many cars and SUVs left parked along the driveway. There were also several limos whose drivers moved the luxury vehicles closer to the mansion after space was made available to bide the night snoozing while waiting for their prestigious employers . The remaining expensive cars he knew belonged to the perverts staying overnight and, compared to past election night celebrations, there were many more than usual.

 

Jamie dared approach the gate all smiles telling to the guard that the governor was expecting him. Directives had not yet been passed down disallowing the regular visitor. The man was barely identifiable looking like death warmed over with long greasy hair, sunken eyes and at least 30 pounds lighter off a body that security officer Mackenzie vaguely recognized from his night shifts a year ago. In fact, the last time he’d seen Jamie was before a sudden recent shuffle in posting found him on nights again after Sam Melrose had apparently got fired, as well as, supervisor Mike Wilson for reasons unknown.

Jamie had an impeccable memory, “Hello there, Officer Mackenzie. Nice to see you again, sir! How’re the grandkid twins … Liam and Sean, if I remember rightly?”

 

“Tyrants, Jamie, pure fucking tyrants in the midst of puberty now … god help us!” the large red-headed man replied with a chuckle, his thick Irish accent prominent.

 

*  *  *

 

Jamie remembered seeing the two boys in a grocery store that year shopping with their parents. Identical twins who gave Jamie a semi at that moment. Watching them antagonize each other as only boys can do, Jamie was very much aware of just how much he could make off them as a ‘tag-team’ duo in men’s beds, as well as, his own while he broke them in and watched them do each other.

 

He could if only he could set his mind on it. There wasn’t a boy yet that he set his sights on who he didn’t eventually bed. Some took more effort than others but all boys could be reduced to a common denominator; they were horny, sexually frustrated and easily seduced after a brief friendship.

 

Jamie laughed to himself. He remembered a radio talk show program not too long ago discussing paedophilia. A woman called in saying that her son was 100% street proofed and no pervert could ever take advantage of her precious twelve year-old. 

 

Jamie had the urge to call into the show and call her bluff. He wanted to dare her to leave the kid at the Century Arcade for a couple of days. Jamie was more than confident that he would, at the very least, be sucking the boy off in a washroom and, most probably, seducing the brat into giving him a blowjob in return. He had a way with kids or, at least, he used to. That last thought brought him back to reality; he had tried to seduce new prey so many times lately and failed.  

 

*  *  *

 

Officer Gerald Mackenzie waved him through the gate. It was not the first time that the governor was expecting company in the wee hours of the morning; usually Jamie came earlier with young scouts or whatever; followed by Father Murphy’s bus load of boys for a weekend retreat to learn about the functionality of government hands-on. Some of the guests invited made Officer Mackenzie gaga. They were very powerful men of industry and politics alike and included other governors and senators. Once, a nice looking man that looked an awful lot like one of the younger British prince’s he’d seen on Celebrity Insight on channel 3 was a guest. He was pretty certain it was the same man.

 

Mackenzie began getting suspicious of Jamie as he watched him  on CCTV taking pictures of vehicle license plates. He knew something had been odd at the mansion lately but was never told of it other than he’d heard that some officers had been canned or transferred, or so the rumour mill went. Gerald wasn’t taking any chances. He was only six months away from retirement after 30-years with the security company. Still watching the CCTV, he picked up the phone and called Dicky Holmes, his boss. He apologized for having woke the man up explaining the situation and his second thoughts about allowing the man onto the estate at 04.30 hours.

 

*  *  *

 

Peter was just nodding off with Calvin held tight against his chest. His right arm was tucked under the boy’s neck and he was remembering falling asleep caressing the swimmer-build pectorals and lightly pinching the perky half-sized raison-like nipples after he had fucked him hard. Peter’s cock was still embedded  inside the boy when Dicky Holmes called and disturbed Peter’s after-fuck blissful rest.

 

There was none of the pleasantries or even a polite apology. But there was an immediate order. “Tell Mackenzie to arrest and detain Jamie Richards and to call in the perimeter guards to assist him code-red.” He ordered.

“I don’t like this, Dicky”, replied Peter as his feet hit the floor. “Jamie has been a little off lately according to the governor. But, don’t go blaming Mackenzie, I should have put out a 10-33 to be suspicious of the man and to double check with the mansion if the man was actually expected.”

 

“Why would he be taking pictures of license number?” Asked Dicky.

 

“I have no idea what he’s up to but, whatever it is, it can’t be good.” Peter replied pulling on his pants.

“ I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” barked Dicky. “You’d better have this guy in hand by then.”

Peter didn’t bother replying to his boss’ orders. He knew god damn well what the weasel was doing recording license plates.

 

Despite all the commotion as he dressed, Calvin never stirred. He was out like a light. Peter bent down and kissed his forehead saying as he did so, “Sweet dreams, handsome. Hopefully I won’t be long.”

 

Next, while he was on the run, he called the governor and advised him. “Sorry, sir. But you have to know what’s going down … yes, I’m on my way.”

 

The governor wasn’t asleep, quite the contrary. He was enjoying the company of two boys,  a 10 and a twelve year-old boy. The older boy only had a tuft of downy fur at the base of his rather nice, hotdog wiener-size, cut hard cock whose grape-size balls were hanging close to his groin where they had recently begun to descend from.

 

The younger one stood erect and uncut with a dick as long and as  thin as a man’s pinky-finger. Trevor was younger than he normally choose but, what the fuck, he was something new to experiment with.

 

*  *  *

 

As if Peter had a premonition or sixth sense warning Mackenzie to get back up, it took five security officers to take down Jamie and cuff him. The chemically strung out wiry little man put up a good fight but succumbed to the many blows from the officers batons. He would definitely be a sight for sore eyes in a matter of hours having being beaten to a pulp.

 

Peter, followed by Dicky Holmes, arrived on the scene ten-minutes later happy to see the security officers had restrained the man by both his wrists and ankles. Two of his men sported cut lips and bloody noses, nonetheless, all were safe considering a gun was found tucked into Jamie’s jeans.

 

“What the hell do you think Jamie was up to, Peter?” asked Holmes.

 

“We’ve been watching him for a while now as a potential threat. Almost overnight he became a junkie. The governor was really sharp noticing the personality change and told me about it. I did some homework and found out that Jamie is literally homeless and living in his car. It’s a sad end to such an ambitious man, I suppose.”

 

Peter ignored the original question, he knew exactly why Jamie was there taking pictures of license plates. He was well aware that Jamie’s next step would have been to hit the governor up for hush money and quite likely he’d also hit up the owners of the vehicles spending the night. Peter didn’t have to surmise that., Jamie was already setting conditions for his silence.

 

“You guys fucked me over, Williams! After all these years of dedication, you perverted paedophiles pulled the carpet out from under me and I’m going to rat you all out as sure as my maker!”

“Ya might just be meeting your maker, Jamie … sooner than ya might think!” Peter thought to himself. Everyone was still pretty edgy about the previous blackmail attempt and one less junkie in the world would hardly be noticed.

 

Peter told Dicky to dismiss the guards to their posts before they overheard anymore. Just then Police Chief Winston emerged from inside the mansion as three squad cars hot with lights and sirens came screaming down the driveway. Winston’s early presence at the scene was a little suspicious. His uniform was in disarray and this was unusual considering the powerful chief was usually dressed impeccably in full regalia. But, at this particular moment, he was missing his decorated jacket and his shirt was unbuttoned above his chest. His rumpled and untidy appearance at the time most certainly caught the attention of the attending officers.

 

Jamie was literally carried out of the mansion and tossed into the back of a police car, all the while screaming how the governor was going down and all his henchmen with him.

“I have friends in the media, Winston … dirty little pigs like you and Williams who owe me favours and know about what goes on behind those walls. I told them everything … even about Father Murphy whoring out those boys from the home …”  Suddenly the car door slammed shut and only Jamie kicking the windows could be heard. He would get out of jail later that day charged with trespassing, a misdemeanor, and fined $500, pocket change for him once upon a time, but a king’s ransom lately. He had 30 days to pay it off.

 

Meanwhile, the inhabitants of the mansion either slept or fucked themselves silly feeling safe and secure as they practised their vice oblivious to another threat most would never learn about. Peter saw it senseless at that point to disturb Judge Bean from between his two boy toys. The judge was a creature of habit. Marcel and Denis, 12 and thirteen, had been his favourites over the past year. The two were the best dressed boys at St. Vladimir’s wearing designer duds compliments of the good judge … and the envy of other boys.

 

*  *  *

 

Miles Kilbourne was a household name, an investigative reporter at the Tribune.  He was well known for exposing organized crime and anything else his gut feeling told him to investigate. He was a client of Jamie Richards and had been for many years. That was until recently when, after a few disappointing encounters with 15 and sixteen year-olds, he got into a fist-to-cuff fight with a junkie kid who didn’t want to perform sexually and went berserk when Miles tried to initiate sex in his apartment with 16 year-old Jerome, a black kid, Miles’ favourite type teen. The kid was high on something and only wanted to sleep. After Miles stripped the kid naked without incident, he decided to get his money’s worth and fuck the almost comatose boy. But, instead of a good fuck, he met physical resistance during which, he sustained a black eye.

 

Miles called Jamie on his cell and told him to come get the loser who refused to leave the comforts of his bed. Jamie had by then had enough of 16 year old  Jerome’s crack head attitude not only with Miles, but other clients as well. He was furious when he walked into Miles’ place and literally threw the black boy out into the hallway naked; his clothes followed.  

 

It was then that Jamie, feeling sorry for himself, confided in Miles’ over a few cocktails about certain officials he provided services for and who were railroading him. Miles was very interested; a gut feeling told him the weasel was telling the truth.

 

Jamie in a conspiratorial tone enticed, “Men so powerful you would never believe me.”

 

Miles was a good judge of people. In his profession he had to be. He could weed out opportunists easily. He saw something in Jamie who was not being forward giving names. If anything, it was like Jamie was talking to himself obviously angered by someone of influence. Miles’ radar went off suggesting that the man had a hell of a story to tell. He had seen Jamie fall from grace over the months, and he was angry at him for the last few disappointing boys he rented. Nonetheless, Miles took out his notepad and began interrogating Jamie for details.

 

Miles gingerly pressed the man for information, feeding him vodka to loosen his lips … and what a tale he was told!

 

to be continued …