Date: Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:39:28 -0700 From: Data Fever Subject: Quick Learner part 1 I ran away from home when I was thirteen. Not bragging, not complaining. That's just the way it was. I never once have regretted it. I've never seen my mom or my dad since. I hope they are rotting in hell. Even after forty years, I still haven't forgiven them. I learned at a tender young age what the difference is between being whipped by a belt or by an electric cord. Take it from a pro - I'll take the belt any day. A belt stings and doesn't start burning until the twentieth or thirtieth whip. A cord super-stings and burns from the very first whip, every time. I really can't remember a time when I wasn't being whipped on a regular basis, twice a week or so. I know that isn't much - I've talked with abuse survivors who got beaten or whipped every single day. But for me as a kid, it was plenty, more than enough reason for me to run away and never look back. While I can't remember exactly when it started, I do remember when my mom found out how much more pain it caused when she whipped me right after I got out of the tub. With my skin all soft from the water, even a belt hurt a lot worse. The fact that I was stark naked was the least of it. At first, I'd have to say that I deserved some of the whippings I got. I was a pretty rotten kid. I remember one time I splashed a neighbor kid with muddy water as he was walking home from Sunday School all dressed up in a nice suit and tie. Another time I was throwing rocks at birds but not paying attention and ended up breaking a window. So, yeah, I did deserve a lot of my whippings. But later on, my parents began to make shit up, just to have a reason to whip me. When I would protest my innocence, they'd call me a liar and whip me for that. It got to the point where I dreaded taking a bath, particularly if it had already been a half week since the last whipping. Sometimes I would just pretend to take a bath, drawing the water but not actually getting into the tub. Once they caught onto that trick, they would actually come into the bathroom to see if I was taking a bath or not. Then there was the time that my mom accused me of touching myself 'down there'. Hell, yeah, I played with myself, but I wasn't about to admit that to my mom. Didn't matter though. That became her favorite reason to whip me. I've been asked if I cried while I was being whipped. Jeez! I didn't just cry, I screamed bloody murder. I think I was hoping that the neighbors would hear and send the police around to investigate. Never happened though. So, yeah, I ran away from home. It wasn't a spur of the moment decision. I planned a long time. I would take money from my mom's purse, just a little here and there so she never missed it. A dollar or two, a couple of quarters. Not much, but it added up over time. I left home with over four hundred dollars in my pocket. I went to the bus station and bought a ticket for New York City. It took over a day to get there and I had to change buses twice, but wow, seeing the place for real was nothing like seeing it on TV. I mean, those buildings are huge! And people everywhere all rushing around. With money in my pocket, my first inclination was to get a feel for the place. I needed to find a place to sleep, some way to make money for when the money I had ran out. Going to school didn't even cross my mind. I started out at Penn Station. What a busy place! A gazillion trains ran through there. And all kinds of people trying to get on the right one. More than once I almost got knocked down by inconsiderate people too busy to watch where they were walking. The first thing to catch my eye was a place that sold hamburgers, hot dogs and other sandwiches. It reminded me that I hadn't eaten in several hours. I ordered a hamburger and a Coke. But when I dug into my pocket to pay for it, there was nothing there. Not in my other pocket either. I checked through my duffel bag and found enough change to pay for my food, but I was no longer hungry. The thought of having lost all my money almost brought me to tears. I sat on a bench and ate, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I guess I was crying, but I didn't realize it. An older gentleman dressed up nice sat down next to me. "My dear young boy. Whatever is wrong? Is there anything that I can do to help?" I looked at him and shook my head. I didn't feel like talking. I didn't feel like doing anything, until I thought of having to go back home like a dog with its tail between its legs. I realized that any help I could get in finding a job or a place to stay would be a good thing. I didn't want to tell him that I had run away from home, so I made up a story about how my parents had died in a car accident and that I was on my way to live with an aunt but that I had been robbed and needed to make some money. I don't think he believed a word of it, but he never questioned anything I said. He asked me if I had any experience. When I told him that I had mowed lawns, taken care of dogs, and delivered newspapers, he sort of laughed and explained that that wasn't the kind of experience he had been referring to. As I finished eating, he explained that there was work I could do, and make good money at it, if I was was willing to not be a prude. I wasn't real sure what he was talking about, but I had a suspicion. It's not like I knew all that much about sex and stuff, but I did know that Mr. Randall sold magazines that were hidden behind the counter of his store, and they weren't all girlie magazines either. I saw one once and it showed men and boys doing some pretty weird stuff together. I wasn't sure that I wanted to do anything like that. The guys at school always talked about doing stuff with girls, and I shot off my mouth too, but I never did anything except use my own hand, and I doubt any of the other boys had done anything either. Like they say, talk is cheap. Anyway, this guy said he'd teach me some stuff and even pay me twenty dollars. Nowadays that doesn't seem like much money, but forty years ago, twenty dollars was more than I could expect to make in a whole day at any job that a kid could do. I followed him and he told me that once we got there, I couldn't talk or even whisper. He'd show me once, then I had to do the same thing. When he led me to the public restrooms, I was pretty sure what this was about, but I didn't know exactly what he was going to do. There weren't too many people in there. He took the stall on the end and motioned for me to use the one next to it. I didn't have to go, but I went in anyway, closing and latching the door. Then I saw him motioning me to slide under the partition. He didn't have to tell me that the ruse was to keep people from seeing both of us entering the same stall. He didn't waste any time. He pulled down my pants and underpants. Then he fondled my dick and balls. I was way too nervous to get a boner. After about twenty or thirty seconds, he looked at me like something was wrong with me. I shrugged my shoulders. I guess that was good enough for him. Then he sucked my dick into his mouth. Nervous or not, that felt so good I popped a boner in no time. Once I was hard, he grabbed my butt with his hands and slid his mouth back and forth on my boner. In what seemed like no time at all, my body tensed up and that feeling rocked me and I was done. I guess he knew it, because he stopped and pulled my pants back up. Then he motioned for me to pull down his pants. I wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but he took a twenty dollar bill out and held it out of my reach, once again motioning what he wanted me to do. I swallowed hard and undid his belt buckle, then the waistband catch and pulled down the zipper. Now, you can call me stupid or whatever you want, but the only boner I had ever seen before was my own. When I pulled down his pants, I almost choked at seeing the size of his boner. I can look back and laugh at my reaction, because I was to learn that he was only of average size. Okay, I thought, for twenty dollars, I'll give him a good feeling. First off, he needed to show me that I had to keep my teeth covered by my lips. And since he was so big, I had to wrap my hands around the part of his boner that my mouth didn't reach. And I had to learn how to move my hands and my mouth. The biggest surprise was when he came in my mouth. I was totally not expecting that. I'd heard guys use words like 'jism' and 'cum', but they were just words to me. I felt sick and spit into the toilet. The man laughed quietly, handed me the twenty, and shooed me back under the partition. I heard him leave. After a couple of minutes, I left too. I didn't get too far. The guy was waiting for me just outside the door. He asked if I wanted to make more money like that. I shrugged. The idea didn't thrill me, but it did seem like easy money. I followed him several blocks to an arcade that was so dirty and grungy, I couldn't believe that anyone would ever want to go there. It was filled with pinball machines and a couple of the newer electronic games like Asteroids and Space Invaders. There were a handful of kids in there playing. The man who brought me to the arcade seemed to know all of the kids, calling them by name, if monikers like Twix, Tweeter or Puffer could be considered names. He introduced me to a kid who looked to be a year or two older than I was named Rusty and then he left. Rusty made it clear from the very beginning that he didn't like me and that he didn't really want me around. Over the next few days, I was able to put the pieces together as to why. At fifteen, Rusty was the oldest boy working in the arcade. It was getting harder and harder for him to attract men, and I was taking potential customers away from him. Nevertheless, Rusty and I came to a financial agreement. I paid him five dollars for every trick I pulled. He wasn't pimping me, but he needed to save up for his near future. He had the same arrangement with two other boys. The first thing that happened was my initiation. The arcade had four rooms upstairs that were accessed through a narrow stairway. Pete, an older man who managed the arcade, was paid five dollars for each use of a room. This was to be paid by the trick, or the trick could take the boy elsewhere if desired. There was also one small bathroom containing a toilet and a sink. Each room had a decent bed and a nightstand. Boys were expected to provide their own condoms and lubricants, or else have the trick provide them. There was a stack of clean sheets on the nightstand's shelf. It was the boy's duty to put a clean sheet on the bed after each use. Pete washed the dirty sheets every morning. At that time, Rusty, Tweeter, Puffer, Twix and Clipper were all with me in a room. Rusty told me to take off my clothes. All the other boys did too. Rusty had me lie down on the bed on my stomach. I was as nervous as heck. Tweeter, the youngest at ten years old, went first. It didn't hurt at all as his little three incher popped in and out of my lubricated hole. I began thinking that it wouldn't be so bad after all. Then came Twix who was twelve. It hurt a bit as he pushed himself in, but once he was in, he stayed in. Twix was maybe four inches long. I didn't mind it at all. As near as I could tell, he took longer than any of the other boys. After Twix was Clipper. Clipper was also twelve, but his boner was thicker than Twix's and about the same length. I thought it would hurt more when he pushed himself in, but maybe Twix had loosened me up some. Clipper used long strokes, almost coming out every time he pulled back. He did come out once, but quickly found his way back in again. I think that I enjoyed Clipper more than the others because he seemed to get more sexually excited by what he was doing. Puffer was next. He was fourteen already, but only four months older than I was. His boner was bigger than mine though, a bit longer and noticeably thicker. He pushed himself inside with just one quick thrust and it hurt like the dickens. I couldn't help but scream, but thankfully it was short and not too loud. It hurt every time he thrust in and I had to grit my teeth. I was glad when Puffer was done. I'm pretty sure that he left his jism inside of me. I don't think that any of the other boys were old enough for that yet. When I saw the size of Rusty's boner, though, I wanted to start crying. He was almost as big as that man who had taken me to the public restroom. "Are you ready for this?" Rusty asked waving his boner in my face. I didn't know how to respond. My butthole already hurt quite a bit from Puffer. But neither did I want to make Rusty mad at me. I figured that he'd have the boys hold me down and fuck me anyway. I concentrated on the beatings that my parents had given me and told myself that I could do this. I nodded. To my surprise, Rusty lay down on the bed beside me and told me to give him a blowjob. "And swallow it," he added. As I turned over and got into position, my butthole was still hurting quite a bit, so I tried to be thankful that he wasn't asking more of me. Rusty gave me instruction just like that older man had done. He wanted me to pump my hand faster, use more of my tongue, press my lips tighter together, use my other hand to fondle his balls. My jaw was getting sore, it felt as though I was biting through my lips. Wasn't he ever going to get done? He put his hands on top of my head and began thrusting his hips upward, causing me to gag each time. He wouldn't let up though. I could feel my saliva running down my hand. I didn't want to, but every time I gagged I thought I would throw up. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he shot his jism into my mouth. I knew that he had wanted me to swallow it, but I needed to catch my breath. I could feel my saliva, his jism, running down my chin. He told me to lick him clean, all of it. The other boys had all gotten dressed and gone back downstairs while I was giving Rusty a blowjob. As I was licking Rusty's softening dick, Puffer walked by the open door with a man in tow. The man stopped as he saw what we were doing and watched for a minute before following Puffer into another room. After Rusty and I had gotten dressed, he went over more of what I needed to know. We went back downstairs. He showed me that the boys playing the machines were using slugs which Pete provided. He explained that when a trick arrived, he would select the boy that he wanted by placing a quarter on the machine as though he wanted to play it. If the boy felt comfortable with the man, he would take the quarter and play it. If the boy didn't want to go with him, he'd walk away from the machine when his game was over. And if the boy didn't want anything to do with the man, he'd flick the quarter off the machine. If the boy had accepted the trick, they would discuss what activity was desired and how much it would cost. Most of the boys wouldn't take it up the butt. Rusty did, and there were a couple of others who weren't there at that time. Tweeter may have been the youngest, but he made the most money. He was in high demand and could charge fifteen dollars just to have a trick suck him off. Most of the rest would charge ten dollars. That sounded pretty good to me. After Rusty's cut, I'd still get five dollars just to have someone give me a blowjob. The normal charge for giving a blowjob was twenty dollars, twenty- five to swallow. For letting myself be fucked, I could charge fifty dollars or more. Rusty had been impressed at how well I had handled Puffer and thought I could probably do pretty well at that once I got used to it. The idea didn't really appeal to me - my butt still hurt. Puffer came back downstairs with his trick and they both left. It didn't really seem that they were together, but they both turned the same direction as they went out the door. Rusty explained that sometimes a man would want to take a boy out to eat and spend the night together, but usually they wouldn't go upstairs first. Meanwhile, Twix had also left, while two new boys had come, Cheeter and Tonka. They were both thirteen. Cheeter was black. Rusty explained that Cheeter had the hardest time of it. Men didn't want black boys and would even take a Mexican first. Rusty said he couldn't understand that as Cheeter was probably the best there was, not rushing his blowjobs and able to take even the biggest men up his butt. Rusty gave me some slugs and told me to go play. He warned me about getting good because I didn't want games to take a long time, especially if I was playing a trick's quarter. I slid the slug into a machine and very quickly found out that I sucked at pinball. It was about fifteen slugs later (I'd gotten more from Pete) that a young man walked in and put a quarter on my machine. My heart started thudding in my chest. He looked nice enough, so after my game ended (I swear that the balls had anti-flipper tracking devices), I played his quarter. Game over in less than a minute. "Well, you must be pretty eager to get upstairs. I've never seen anyone lose so quickly." I didn't know how to respond to that so I just shrugged and asked him what he was buying. He asked if I was selling my ass. I shook my head no. He said that he'd give me sixty for it and asked me if I knew how pretty I was. I hesitated and he picked up on that right away. He practically begged me to let him fuck me. I asked him how big he was. We agreed that he'd fuck me for sixty unless I thought he was too big, in which case I'd suck him off for twenty. I bought some lubricant and condoms from Rusty. The guy paid Pete and we went upstairs. Two of the rooms were occupied and I recalled that both Tweeter and Tonka had taken men up. He had me take off his clothes, then he took off my clothes. I kind of figured that he'd have a boner, but I was a bit surprised that I was also hard. The man smiled when he saw that. I noticed that his boner wasn't any thicker than Puffer's had been although it was at least an inch longer. I handed him the condom but he insisted that I put it on him. I hadn't expected that. I'd never seen a condom before. It took me forever just to open the foil wrapper. Then I tried to put it on the wrong way and he had to show me how it just rolled down. "You've never done this before, have you?" I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know if he'd be happy to know that I didn't have much experience. On the other hand, he seemed to enjoy my nervousness. When I brought out the lubricant, he gently took it from me and said he'd handle that part of it. We lay down on the bed and he hugged me tightly, running his hands over my back and butt. His boner was poking against me. He rolled me over onto my back and applied the lubricant with his finger. Then he poked his finger into my butt and moved it around. I don't know what he did, but suddenly I felt all squirmy and it got hard to breathe and then my boner started throbbing and I orgasmed. He rolled on top of me and put his boner against my hole. Very slowly he pushed himself in, stopping every time he heard my breathing get a little heavy. It didn't hurt nearly as much as it did with Puffer. He took his time, pushing in and out as though he had all the time in the world. He rolled us over onto our sides and continued that way for a while. Then he rolled onto his back so that I was on top of him. Holding my hips, he bucked underneath me. I felt that same squirmy feeling. I couldn't believe that I was having another orgasm already. And he hadn't even touched my dick at all. He came right away and I could actually feel his jism shooting into me. We lay like that for several minutes, catching our breaths. He ran his hands over the parts of my body that he could reach. He rolled me off and as he plopped out of my hole, I felt so empty inside. He said I was the best he ever had, and the way I had tightened up when I orgasmed was fucking great. He gave me a hundred dollars before he left.