Date: Tue, 3 May 2016 06:55:02 -0400
From: Benson Hurster
Subject: Pathway to Sex

Pathways To Sex
By Benson Hurster

Part One

Chapter One

"Is that the last one?" Chester Rollins asked after
escorting a pretty, though slightly disheveled young
woman out of the hotel and into a cab.

Chester, a retired cop after twenty five years on the
force, augmented his pension by working hotel security.
This week he was working the late shift at the RitzĒ
Plaza, a fiveŠstar hotel on the upper east side of the
City. He did not mind this shift because his married kids
were long gone and his wife had passed away last year.
His nights at home were lonely.

"Let me check the file," Eric Webster said as he opened
a folder on his desk.

Keeping track of which hotel guests were 'entertaining'
in their rooms had not been part of his masters degree in
hospitality management. The hotel turned a blind eye to
the many prostitutes and escort services that provided
paid companions to the rich and famous; protecting the
privacy of a guest was of paramount importance. But the
hotel did keep a log in case of an unforseen incident. An
angry wife demanding access to her husband's room could
be extremely embarrassing to a valued hotel client who
was in bed with another woman at the time. The tabloid
newspapers and divorce lawyers thrived on such all too
frequent scandals.

"There's one more," Eric said as Chester approached the
concierge desk. "Stanley Thurstone, the congressman from
Brooklyn, he still has a guest in the penthouse suite.

"The one who announced last week that he's considering a
run for the presidency? The family values guy?"

"Yup," Eric replied absently. He remembered the two of
them coming in at nine that night at the start of his
shift. It was now nearly three in the morning. Thurstone
first, followed a moment later by a strikingly handsome
young man. Eric knew that face from somewhere, almost
laughing aloud when he remembered from where.

"I guess the young lady will be spending the night,"
Chester said with disgust. "Fucking politicians screwing
around with whores."

Eric chuckled softly. "It's not a young lady fucking with
a potential President of the United States of America."

"Huh? Who then?"

Before Eric could respond he noticed a light flashing on
the elevator panel on his desk. The private elevator was
descending to the lobby from the penthouse floor. He
turned to the security camera panel and saw the familiar
face in the elevator.

"Nope it's not a young lady, Chester, not a young lady at
all. It's a young man."

"You mean a faggot?"

Chapter Two

Rene Fordham nervously looked at his watch for the third
time since leaving the congressman's suite and entering
the elevator. It was late, dangerously late to be leaving
the hotel without drawing attention to himself. The lobby
would surely be empty at this hour, the night clerk or
security guard might stop him and question him before he
could get out of the hotel.

Out before midnight or spend the night with the client at
his hotel was the best practice rule at the agency. There
were a great many rules for the boys at Goldrings, all of
which were designed to protect the client at all costs.
Maintain client confidentiality and the agency would bail
you out immediately if you got arrested, before you got
thrown to the animals in the prison population. Breach
it, compromise a client to save yourself and the agency
wouldn't lift a finger to help you.

It rarely happened at Goldrings, once in the last five
years. Arthur Kingman, nineteen years old and in a panic,
lost his head when questioned by the police. He foolishly
admitted to being a paid escort and having sex with men.
Worse yet, he disclosed the room number he'd just come
from and the name of the man he'd been having sex with.

"He sent me out for a pack of cigarettes after I gave him
a blow job," a very nervous Kingman told the police. "He
couldn't exactly call room service for the smokes because
like, you know, we were both naked and the room smelled
from sweat and semen. I was going back to his room for
more sex, he hadn't fucked me yet, when you stopped me."

After the detectives stopped laughing, Arthur Kingman was
arrested on a charge of prostitution.

When questioned in the room shortly after, Mr. Lee, the
CEO of a multi billion dollar hedge fund, claimed that it
was all a misunderstanding. He did let him in because he
thought Kingman was the kid from room service delivering
his late night order. He was in this room for maybe five
minutes, the flustered businesman told the detectives,
claiming repeatedly that he did not have sex with the
young man.

A few calls were made and some serious money changed
hands. The investigation was quietly quashed despite
several unanswered questions. Hotel room service had no
record of an order from Mr. Lee and Mr. Lee was buck
naked, sporting a Viagra induced erection when he opened
the door to his room. He was certainly expecting someone
he knew very well and it was not the police.

Arthur Kingman's story, his arrest and what happened to
him afterwards was told at meetings as a warning to other
Goldrings boys. Rene did not know if it was all true, he
did not want to find out.

Chapter Three

The cops used Arthur Kingman first. Three rough blow jobs
in the interrogation room, before throwing him to the
wolves in the holding cell.

"The faggot will keep the niggers happy tonight", one cop
said to the other as he shut and locked the door to the
cell. "That cocksucker is gonna be a very busy boy."

James Washington Carver, JW to his friends and business
associates, was a very wealthy man. He quickly noted
Arthur's Armani shirt and slacks...one of his favorite
designers. He also noted his manicured nails and
expensive haircut. JW loathed white boys in general and
boys like Arthur Kingman in particular. Tormented and
taunted as the only black boy in a wealthy white
community in Alabama, his mother worked as a maid, JW
exacted his revenge by humiliating white boys whenever
and wherever the opportunity arose.

"Nice shirt," he said in a comforting and friendly tone
of voice to a still stunned Arthur. Despite the fact that
he willingly serviced men for a living and had happily
sucked a great many cocks since junior high school, the
cops had not been gentle. He could still taste the sperm
in his mouth, which was not unpleasant at all to a
cocksucker, but his jaw and ears ached from the brutal
face fucking he endured barely fifteen minutes earlier.
Stunned and very scared too, surrounded as he was by
unsmiling black faces.

A friendly voice was very welcome right now. "Uh,
thanks," he replied, moving closer to JW.

"Take it off!" JW barked, no longer smiling.

His closest friends knew parts of his unhappy youth. What
they did not know, what no one knew was that JW had been
forced to perform oral sex by three white boys. He'd been
stripped naked, pushed to his knees and forced to suck
their cocks. Humiliated further, if that were possible,
when each of them climaxed and ejaculated in his mouth.
The next day they fucked him. Taking turns in his ass and
his mouth, filling both ends with sperm and urine. This
abuse went on for months.

"Why?" Arthur said warily.

"Because I told you to take off your shirt. Listen up
white boy, you are going to do whatever I tell you to do
or you might have an accident and break your nose and
maybe break a finger or two."

Arthur quickly took off his shirt. The gold ring in each
of his nipples brought gales of laughter from all the
young men in the cell.

"The shoes next, boy."

Arthur obeyed like a well trained puppy, which in many
respects he was.

"And now take off the pants."

The laughter increase exponentially as Arthur stood
before them, all but naked in a hot pink, lacey thong.
Tonights's client liked him to wear sexy, feminine
underwear. Jamal and Shaq laughed the hardest because
they well knew how much JW liked to humiliate white boys,
happily lending their assistance many times in fucking up
a white boy's mind.

Just the other day JW had called from a bar with a new
assignment.

"Give the asshole a number three," JW instructed. "The
motel room is stocked and ready."

JW had a number of treatments to fuck up a white boy's
mind. A number one worked well on athletes, boys who
changed in the locker room and showered after practice or
a game. It required the skills of a tattoo artist.

The number one boy would be stripped naked and his pubic
hair shaved off, a blank canvass for the artist to create
a masterpiece. With professional care, using black ink,
the artist tattooed FAG above the boy's hairless cock. A
COCKSUCKER tattoo was considered, but rejected. It took
too long to complete and FAG was more than sufficiently
humiliating.

No more team sports, locker rooms and communal showers.
No fucking girls either, until his pubes grew back to
hopefully cover the embarrassing tattoo. Boys with light
brown or blond pubic hair never had a chance. The FAG
tattoo showed through.

Pubic hair grows back slowly, very slowly. Several high
school seniors, to the dismay of their parents, gave up
athletic scholarships to fine colleges for no apparent
reason. Several college seniors, drafted by the NFL and
the NBA...million dollar contracts, failed to report to
their teams.

Even if the boy's pubic hair was dark enough to cover,
his mind was fucked up anyway. The shame of being branded
like a cow...knowing he had FAG tattooed above his dick
changed his life forever. Once, unknowlingly, they
tattooed an actual faggot. He shaved often, exposed
himself quite proudly in gay bars, and went on to have a
successful career as a dancer in an all nude boys review.

A number two boy would have his ears and nipples pierced,
metal rings inserted in the holes and screwed into place
with specially designed screws. A metal ring would be
similarly screwed into place around his cock and balls.
Not impossible to remove if you had the right screw
driver...not sold in any hardware stores. Most boys cried
with shame when they woke up alone and saw what had been
done to him.

Shaq and Jamal casualy approached the target in the bar,
a college freshman named Luke who was flashing a wad of
cash and boasting about all the women he slept with. "I
fuck'em and leave'em...the cunts love my big dick." Luke
was a real prick.

They started up a friendly conversation over more than a
couple of beers. Shaq distracted Luke for a moment while
Jamal doctored his beer with some knock out drops. Twenty
minutes later they were safely in a room at a seedy motel
that was secretly owned by JW.

The room was furnished with nothing but a bare, semen
stained mattress, a small night table, a dresser and a
full length mirror on the bathroom door. No sheets,
blankets, bed spread or pillows, not even a towel in the
bathroom where the water was turned off. Nothing to cover
the target's soon to be naked body or wash away the
evidence of his humiliation.

A hidden compartment in the dresser contained course grit
sandpaper, cheap latex condoms, KY Jelly, red lipstick,
lip stamp and pints of fake sperm that looked and felt
just like the real stuff. The fake sperm was often used
by the producers of video porn to achieve the popular
"Covered in Cum" look. The dresser also held a rubber
dildo that was a perfect reproduction of a fully erect
eight inch black cock and balls.

The dildo was called the Baster because the testicles
could be filled with a pint of fake sperm and, when
squeezed, send a powerful stream through the tip of the
dildo to "Baste" a face, a mouth, a body or a bowel with
an enormous quantity of what appeared to be sperm.

The remaining item in the dresser was a small syringe
with a short, thin needle. The syringe held an ounce of
clear liquid that looked like, but was not water.

Through an offshore enterprise JW owned a majority
interest in a pharmaceutical company that legally
manufactured various creams and lotions that were sold in
stores all accross the country. His partner, Max, was a
brilliant, though somewhat unscrupulous, seventy year old
research chemist with a penchant for gambling and young
women. Max had recently developed the product in the
syringe for his own use. He called it Viagliss and it was
far more effective than its namesake products.

JW had big plans for Viagliss once production ramped up
in a couple of months. He was already making a fortune
with another of Max's products.

When injected painlessly into the upper half of a flaccid
penis, Viagliss caused the limp penis to become erect. It
worked by dilating the small blood vessels in the penis,
thereby dramatically increasing blood flow to the organ,
then constricting the vessels to trap the extra blood.
The result was a long lasting erection about 15% larger
than would normally occur. An erection that a seventeen
year old boy or a porn star would be proud of.

State of the art video and audio equipment recorded every
thing that took place in the room. JW would enjoy
watching it at his leisure.

Jamal jacked off into a condom, filling the tip with a
load of his sperm. Shaq removed all of Luke's clothes and
roughed up his hands, knees and the tops of his feet with
the sandpaper. He left the car keys, wallet, cell phone
and a hundred dollar bill on the dresser, then brought
the clothes back out to Luke's car.

Shaq filled the dildo with fake semen, coated it with a
generous amount of KY, then carefully inserted the tip
into Luke's ass. He pushed it in ever so slowly, adding
more lube as necessary, until it was all the way inside
the boy. He started to fuck Luke slowly, massaging his
prostate gland which caused Luke's cock to stir into a
pulsing erection.

Involuntarily he began to thrust up on the dildo in his
ass, literally fucking himself towards an inevitable
climax. Jamal held Luke's cock and fondled his balls to
further increase the stimulation.

"His balls are getting tight," Jamal observed. "I think
he's going to cum. Keep fucking him, bruise his asshole
a bit so it'll feel sore later. That's it, yes, he's
cumming."

Jamal directed three strong spurts of semen onto Luke's
belly and chest, gently squeezing his cock to milk out
the rest. His hand was covered with sperm which he rubbed
off all over Luke's nose, cheeks and neck. Shaq then
squeezed the dildo's balls, basting Luke's bowels with a
pint of fake sperm.

Jamal retrieved the condom he had filled earlier. Shaq
gently pinched Luke's nostrils closed causing his lips to
part. Jamal turned the condom inside out and dumped the
contents into Luke's open mouth. Then he rubbed the slimy
condom all around Luke's eyes and forehead. He added
several cuttings of his own wiry pubic hair to complete
the nasty mess in Luke's mouth and on his face.

The lip stamp was covered with red lipstick. Jamal made
several lip impressions on Shaq's ass cheeks and Shaq did
the same to Jamal. "Looks like somebody kissed your ass,"
Shaq observed with a chuckle. The red lipstick was then
generously and sloppily applied to Luke's lips and their
cocks.

The used condom, having served its purpose, was disposed
of in Luke's well lubricated ass. Acting like a stopper,
the scummy condom would limit the seepage of fake sperm
for a while. Another sprinkling of fake sperm on the bed
and everyone's body and the stage was set.

"I almost forget the photos," Shaq said, retrieving
Luke's phone from the dresser. "Put your dick on his
mouth. No, back a bit so the head is resting on his lips.
Perfect." Shaq took three quick shots.

"Push in a little, let's see if he'll open up for your
cock."

Luke, still out like a light, cooperated beautifully. His
bright red lips parted slightly and Shaq captured the
Kodak moment, photos of Jamal's mushroom shaped cockhead
squarely in Luke's mouth.

Lastly, Shaq took the cover off the syringe. "This stuff
really work?" Jamal asked.

"We're about to find out," Shaq replied as he carefully
inserted the needle into Luke's spent cock and pushed
down on the plunger.

It worked.

Shaq and Jamal lying on the bed with Luke, three naked
boys covered with sticky, slimy cum. "Faggot, cocksucker
or pussy boy, never Luke," Shaq reminded Jamal.

They were ready to fuck up his mind.

Chapter Four

Luke slowly came awake. He literaly cracked open his
eyes, all but glued shut with a layer of dried sperm.
Still somewhat dazed from the knock out drops, it took
him a moment or two to realize he was lying on a bed
naked, between two equally naked black guys. A tangled
mess of arms and legs. There was an awful taste in his
mouth and his ass felt sore. He took a deep breath in an
attempt to clear his head, which intensified the awful
smell that surrounded his head like a fog.

"Hey you're finally up," Shaq said with a big smile on
his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Who are you? Where am I?" Luke said, trying to shift out
of the wet spot under his ass. That's when he noticed
that his cock was not only erect, but seemed larger than
usual.

"I'm Shaq and he's Jamal. We're at some motel you drove
us to. Don't know the name."

"I drove us here?"

"Yeah, from the bar, remember? We had a few beers, you
were talking about all the chicks you fucked. Then you
offered Jamal and me a hundred bucks to come to a motel
with you."

"I did?"

Luke got up from the bed and walked around the bare room.
He saw the lipstick, condoms and KY jelly on the night
stand. The movement caused the first drops of fake sperm
to ooze out of his ass and run unnoticed down his legs.

The condom remained in place. "Where are my clothes?" he
asked, hands covering his hardon.

"You left them in your car which is parked in the lot
accross the street. Jamal took your wallet and cell phone
for safe keeping, they're on the dresser with your keys."

Luke saw his stuff on the dresser and the hundred dollar
bill under his wallet. Shaq's words took a moment to hit
home. "I walked into this motel room naked! Like off the
street...naked, outside...naked?"

As if only just becoming aware that he was naked with two
naked guys, he looked around the room for a blanket or a
pillow, for anything to cover his body. Especially his
stiff cock which somehow seemed longer and fatter than
ever before. He found nothing.

"We tried to stop you, but you insisted on taking off
your clothes."

"I did?"

"Naked as a new born baby and you had a boner then too,
just like now. Some nasty looking dudes started laughing
at you and following us so I was glad when we got into
this room and locked the door."

"But what am I doing here? And, and, why are you guys
naked?"

"You asked us to take off our clothes," Jamal said. "Shaq
and I both thought some girls would show up...to party,
so we got undressed. Well, we partied, but not with any
girls."

"Partied with who? I don't remember."

"With you, man. Shaq and I, we aren't that way, but we
could use the money you offered."

"What way? What money?" Luke asked, totally confused. The
fog was lifting slowly as the effects of the drug wore
off.

The time to close the deal was at hand. Easy and casual,
no threats or intimidation. Like a walk in the park.

"You know, faggots. But a blow job is still a blow job
and you are one helluva cocksucker. I thought you were
kidding when you got down on your hands and knees and
crawled over to me. Then you looked up at me, from your
knees, and asked to suck my dick. I still thought you
were kidding until you kissed the tip of my dick and
licked my balls too."

"This is crazy," Luke sputtered after a long minute of
silence. "I'd never go down on my knees for a guy! I'd
never kiss a guy's dick or lick a guy's balls! I'm not a
fag."

"Oh really," Shaq said. Take a look at your knees."

Luke couldn't help but notice that his hands, knees and
the top of his feet were scuffed and reddened. He looked
at the rough, threadbare carpet that covered the floor.
He shook his head no in denial, but could not shake away
the thought that maybe just maybe he'd done exactly what
Shaq said he had done.

"I've had lots of girls suck my dick, but none sucked as
good as you. My balls were bouncing off your chin and you
never once gagged on my dick. I warned you that I was
close. Sperm is kind of nasty and I didn't want to do it
to you because you seemed like a nice guy even though
you're obviously a faggot."

Luke's head was clearing some now. His senses were coming
back to life. He felt and saw the fluid running down his
legs, forming a puddle at his feet. He smelled the smells
and tasted the tastes of raw sex. Sex with all the girls
he fucked. "I'm not a faggot," he mumbled without much
conviction.

"You only stopped sucking me for a second, to tell me you
wanted to eat my load. I guess it's hard to talk with a
dick jammed in your mouth."

Luke recalled going down on a girl once, after he fucked
her. Her pussy was soaked with his sperm...the smell the
taste...disgusting. He never did it again. That was what
he was smelling and tasting now. Cum.

"Please cum in my cocksucker mouth is exactly what you
said. So I did. You swallowed it all then licked my dick
and balls clean...left some red lipstick though. You even
sucked some cum out of my pubes after you kissed my ass.
Best blow job I ever got. Guys like you, faggots, are the
best cocksuckers. I bet you can still taste my cum."

"I can," Luke sobbed as tears filled his eyes. "I can
taste it and smell it. I think there's hair in my mouth.
I'm not a faggot, shit, I'm not a cocksucker." Luke was
rambling now. "I never sucked a cock in my life. Oh,
fuck, I've got cum in my mouth."

"You're a cocksucker now," Jamal said softly. "You sucked
Shaq's cock which makes you a cocksucker. For guys like
you, faggots, that's not a bad thing. You liked it too,
cocksucker, just look at your dick. Hey, maybe you're
bisexual...sex with guys and gals."

"Cum in my mouth," Luke repeated softly to himself. The
semen was real, he could taste it.

Jamal put a comforting arm around Luke's bare shoulder
and steered him towards the mirror. It was his turn to
torment Luke.

"Don't cry about a little cum in your mouth. I knew a
faggot like you in high school. The cocksucker serviced
lots of guys every day and swallowed a lot of cum. It
never hurt him any."

Luke recoiled when he saw himself in the mirror. Sight is
the most powerful of the five human senses. We believe
what we see much more than what we taste, touch, hear or
smell. Luke saw his lips smeared with red lipstick, his
face, neck and body shiny with sperm. He believed what he
saw, that he was covered with cum, reenforced by what he
could taste and smell.

Most of what he saw on his body was, of course, the fake
stuff. A typical ejaculation yields about a teaspoon of
semen. Dozens of guys would have had to jack off on Luke
to produce the same effect. He might realize that later,
but not now.

What Luke saw now was the face and the body of a slut. A
slut from years ago, in a motel room much like this one.

(To Be Continued)