This story concerns teenage gay males who are involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.

This story is copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This is my second submission to Nifty. This is a continuation of “Kiel’s Story” which was last posted on 7/24/06. It is not necessary to read “Kiel’s Story” before reading this, but it may help you understand where the character relationships started. Any comments or questions are welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net

A warm thank you goes out to all who’ve written. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff. I try to respond to all, including flames, but time is precious in my life, so if I didn’t answer yours, please accept my apology.


Tim and the Corsair

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 13 – Dear Diary, Part 3

Apr. 9, 1965

Dear Jeff,

As the saying goes, out of the frying pan and into the fire. Charlie is definitely interested in only one thing: What I’m going to do to get him off. That’s all he thinks about. That’s all he talks about. I’ve been with him a week and I have yet to have a day off from doing something to make him come.

And, we’re not getting any closer to North Park. We headed south out of Idaho Falls to Salt Lake City then down to Albuquerque where a friend, Davey, from the Army, lived. Last night when we arrived, they took me into a room and nearly beat the shit out of me. Then they tied me to a bed and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me. They were drinking whiskey or some shit and then started shooting up. They got really whacked out. Then they passed out.

I was lying face down on the bed and couldn’t get free, but I kept working the knots trying to figure a way out of my predicament. I was tied pretty good, or so I thought, but the knot on my left hand had been tied by Davey and it was kind of loose. I couldn’t see that well, but I kept jiggling the rope and suddenly it came undone. I quickly untied the other knots and tried to figure out what I was going to do.

I had to get out of there, but where then?

Charlie and Davey were lying on the floor completely passed out so I put my clothes on and started to look for money and a weapon. If I was going to hitch back to North Park I was going to need a weapon. After searching the house, I found well over a thousand dollars, enough junk to open a pharmacy, two .38 caliber pistols, a .45 caliber automatic, a fancy sharp as hell switchblade knife, and some skewers for making shish kabobs.

I took only $200 of the money, mostly because anymore would make me a likely target for some wacko. I also took the knife because it was easy to conceal. I figured if Charlie was like any other trucker out there, I’d better have a little protection.

The skewers were for payback! I took them into the room where the men were still passed out. They were both lying on their backs. I took a skewer and shoved it into Charlie’s ball sack and forced it into the wood floor. He didn’t even whimper. I did the same thing to Davey. I thought about cutting their dicks off, but had an even better idea. I went outside and found a pile of dog shit crawling with flies. I picked some up and went back into the room. Using the knife, I knicked their dicks in a couple or three places so that they were bleeding only a little bit. Then smeared the dog shit over their dicks. The flies swarmed onto them. Hopefully, both of will end up infected and have to have their dicks amputated. Or, better yet, the flies will lay eggs in the wounds and maggots will eat their dicks. I didn’t wanted them to die, just suffer like I did.

I went back outside and flattened all of the tires on Charlie’s truck and Davey’s old Buick.

I figured I had about twelve hours head start if they were going to come looking for me. I know I would have come looking for me if my balls had been skewered to the floor and dog shit spread over my dick.

I hitched a ride out to Interstate 40 where I found a truck stop. He said his name was Bill and said he goes up to Seattle all the time. We’re heading for LA first.



Apr. 18, 1965

Dear Jeff,

Bill likes to fuck. That’s all he likes. I tried to give him a blowjob right off the bat and he slapped the shit out of me. Then he pulled over to the side of the road and fucked me hard.

“A man’s cock goes two places, an ass, or a pussy,” he said as he put himself back together and started up the truck. “We’ll get along just fine if you remember that.”

The good thing is he doesn’t like to fuck all that often; and, if there’s a girl around who’ll do him, I don’t have to. I suppose that makes him a good guy.

We went to LA, then up to Vegas, then back to LA, then up to Bakersfield where we picked up a load going to Reno.

Bill decided he wanted to go out to one of the ranches and get laid. He asked me if I wanted to do it with a girl and I told him no. He gave me the funniest look like he didn’t believe I could actually prefer a dick to a cunt.

Anyway, I was sitting out in the truck waiting for him when this girl comes out of the house with a bottle of Coke. She held it up to the window as if it was for me. I opened the door and got out.

Her name is Candi. She says she’s eighteen, but I think she’s younger, or she tries really hard to look younger. She invited me in for what she called a “freebie”. She said I was too young to pay. Then I figured out she was going to let me fuck her. I told her I wasn’t interested.

“Don’t tell me you’re queer,” Candi said. “Mama is looking for a queer to help around here. Too bad you have to ride around with your daddy because you could make good money working for Mama.”

“Bill isn’t my daddy,” I said. “He’s taking me up to Seattle where I live.”

“Well, then, come on. You need to meet Mama, she likes boys.”

So, I’m doing the laundry, cleaning up, helping with the cooking, and serving drinks to the customers in exchange for a roof over my head. When I first talked to Mama she said there was the chance I might have to allow a john into my room, but she said that didn’t happen all that much. She said she’d let me keep whatever I made over and above the standard rate. I was young, so she said she could charge big bucks.

I guess I’ve ended up as prostitute, anyway. At least they’re nice here and don’t slap me around. All the girls are trying to get me to fuck them. It’s a game we play. I told them to strap on a dildo and they could fuck me anytime they wanted.

Candi is lying on my bed right now as I finish writing this. She’s got on a nine inch latex with a clit stimulator all lubed up and ready. I think she wants us to kiss, too. I guess its okay, but I miss Geoff a lot. I really do miss him. I’d prefer having his dick up my ass.



Apr. 29, 1965

Dear Jeff,

Well, I suppose it was bound to happen. Candi has been sent down to Vegas to work for the escort service. Mama came into “my” room and saw Candi fucking me with the dildo. She totally flipped out and wouldn’t talk to me for three days. Yesterday afternoon a car came to take Candi and then Mama had a meeting.

The girls will not engage in any sexual activities with me. Period. No discussion. Period.

The girls will not try to coerce me into participating in any sexual activities with any of them. Period. No discussion. Period.

This is a business. We sell pleasurable communion between the customers and the working staff. Off duty sexual activity must be approved by Mama, unless it involves sex between the girls.

From this day forward, I will be considered a full employee and must be willing to entertain customers to their liking within the limits set down by Mama or Little Johnny, who sometimes sits in for Mama. (Little Johnny is a lot Little John from Robin Hood. He’s about six foot seven and weighs about three hundred fifty and that isn’t all flab. He can shove an unruly customer through a wall if need be to make a point. He’s done it. It isn’t pretty.) (Little Johnny likes me to suck his dick, but only asks when Mama isn’t around. She seems to think I need protecting.) (Little Johnny also works the weirder side of the business, serving those customers who need to get beat up to have an orgasm.)

Last night Little Johnny took me into Reno to service a john at his home. It seems the wife and kiddies were over in Sacramento visiting grandma and grandpa and he was looking for a boy. He’s been a regular customer of the ranch for many years, but every now and then likes to have a boy spend the night with him. Kind of like a sleepover.

I hadn’t been in his house for three minutes before he’s down on his knees pulling my pants down. He was a good cocksucker. When I finally came, after purposefully holding back for as long as I could, he sprayed my come all over his face. Weird. Then he ordered pizza and he took me to a movie. He groped me in the theatre.

When we got home he gave me a bath in the tub with kiddy bubble bath. Then we went to bed in his son’s bedroom. After the lights had been out for maybe half an hour, the guy is on top of me with his dick between my thighs. He came in about a minute. Then he apologized for doing that. Weird.

The next morning I wake up and he’s rimming me. When he figured I was awake he stuck his dick in my ass using only spit. He went real slow so it didn’t hurt that much. He fucked me for like five or ten minutes. It was a long time and he went slow. Just before he came, he pulled out and jacked off onto my back. Then he licked the come off me. Weird.

And, all this is happening in his son’s room. I figured this guy really needed to have a good father-son chat with his boy. Then I saw the kid’s picture. He’s in a wheelchair. There was a car accident. His dad was driving. It was his dad’s fault. The kid’s older brother was killed and he was paralyzed. Dad had to go to prison for three years.

I don’t know why he told me this shit. I didn’t feel sorry for him. He’d been drinking. He killed his oldest boy. You can’t feel sorry for a dickhead like that, but as an employee of the ranch I can do just about anything, including holding the bastard when he started crying as he told me what happened.

He gave me six one hundred dollar bills. Mama let me keep one of them in my escape fund, whatever that is.



May 3, 1965

Dear Jeff,

The word got around town there was a boy out at the ranch. I’ve been busier than hell sucking cock, getting fucked, and being a little boy. Some of the johns like little boys to play with. I guess it brings back good memories of the neighborhood when the kiddies got together to jack off and snicker at Billy’s little dick. That’s kind of fun.

Then a john spanked me for being naughty. I told Mama I was going to take a hike if there was going to be anymore spanking. She had Little Johnny inform the gentleman that spanking was not an approved practice at the ranch. I guess he told Little Johnny what he could do to himself and Little Johnny practically ripped the guy’s dick off, plus gave him a number of bruises where he didn’t want them. Mama said he’ll be back. A young kid’s ass is too tempting.

I miss Geoff a lot. I still have his picture even after all I’ve been through. Mama asked me the other day who it was and I told her about him. I told her everything. I guess once you get going when you’re talking to her, you can’t stop. She really is like a real mother in some ways. I’ve been calling myself Jeff Johnson because I didn’t know if the Lifeboat crews were still looking for me (Mama said they were looking for a Jimmy Walker or a Tim Chambers. She knows them and says they’ll keep looking for a long time. She doesn’t like them. Of course, Mama is on the wrong side as far as Lifeboat is concerned. They’ve probably rescued a few of Mama’s girls, thinking they’re doing them a favor.) and I didn’t know if those pornographers were looking for me (Mama said I’m off the hook on that one, though there does seem to be what she calls an open contract on my life, but since the guys who are going to pay are in government custody, there shouldn’t be much of a problem with that. Mama also said she knew my family. Ronny was always stopping at the ranch when he was in Reno. Ronny liked boys, too.).

On May Day, Little Johnny took me up to Lake Tahoe to the home of a Baptist preacher. Seems the guy was having a little party for a bunch of preachers in the area and thought some boys might liven up the proceedings. What a bunch of hypocrites! At least I got to meet some of the hustlers from Reno and a boy from another ranch who I guess is my competition. He’s skinny and looks like there’s something wrong with him, like he’s sick or something. Little Johnny told me later the kid isn’t being taken care of and has the clap everywhere on and in his body, plus a couple other things wrong with him. He was popular with the preachers, though. I guess they like skinny boys. Mostly, I mixed drinks and rolled joints. I think I sucked one preacher and one of the hustlers took a liking to me. I let him fuck me. He used a condom. They were all trying to be careful since Typhoid Mary was at the party. I guess they knew about the kid, too.

Yesterday, Charlie and Davey showed up at the door. I was working back in the kitchen making sandwiches when I saw them in the parlor talking to Mama. Then they left. Mama sent Little Johnny out to watch them leave. After they’d gone, I went out to talk to Mama. She said they were looking for me, but she said I was older and didn’t fit their description. She said they wanted to see me. She told them that it cost five hundred dollars to go into my room. They said they just wanted to see me. She told them, again, it cost five hundred dollars to go into my room. She’s going to have some people watch them until they’re out of town. If they cause any problems, Mama said she’ll have Little Johnny cut off their dicks and leave them in the desert for the vultures.

Last night Little Johnny drove me down to Carson City to spend the night with a john in a hotel room. The guy was from Billings and comes down to Carson City to gamble and have a little fun. He had some grass he said he grew on his ranch in Montana. It was really good stuff. We smoked joints and I sucked his cock a couple times. When we went to bed he told me to fuck him. He had me use a condom because he didn’t want some other john’s dirty dick messing up his asshole. In the morning, I climbed up on top of him and we shared joint with him stuffed in my ass. He gave me seven hundred and an extra bill for a tip. I gave it all to Mama. You don’t hold out on Mama. You’ll end up taking a ride into the desert with Little Johnny and you won’t be riding in the front seat.

I miss Geoff and I want to go home. When I got back this morning I told Mama I wanted to go home. She said I still had to work off what I owed her. I asked her what that was. She said not to worry, she’d let me know when it was okay for me to go. I went to my room.

Little Johnny came in, didn’t even knock. He slapped me really hard. He told me he thought we were friends. I said we were. He slapped me, again. He said friends didn’t run out on each other. He slapped me, again. I started to cry. I don’t cry. I got over crying a long time ago. He slapped me, again. I was crying at his feet, begging him not to slap me, again. He picked me up to where my face was even with his. He stared at me. I tried to smile. He said he was going to fuck me.

We went up to Donner Lake. I guess that’s where he lives. He has a cabin on the lake. It’s pretty there. He told me to take off my clothes. When I did, he told me to take off his. When I finished undressing him he was hard. He put on a condom. He said he didn’t trust my ass. Then he leaned me against the dining table and fucked me. It wasn’t a fun fuck, but I could look out the sliding glass doors at the lake. There was a boat out there. A guy was fishing.

When Little Johnny came he pulled right out and cleaned my ass with a tissue. I stood up and turned around. He punched me so hard in the face I passed out.

I woke up about an hour ago. I’m back at the ranch. I don’t know how I got back. My door is locked. I can’t get out. The whole left side of my face is bruised. I guess the party is over. I guess I’m going to have to figure a way of getting out of here.

I miss Geoff and I want to go home.



May 13, 1965

Dear Jeff,

My sentence has come to an end. My door is unlocked and I can roam the house freely. There is no use going outside as we’re miles from anywhere I could catch a ride. I’m stuck here until I can come up with a way out.

Mama is cold to me. Little Johnny mostly ignores me. The other girls keep their distance. I think I’m alive only because they didn’t kill me right off; or, quite possibly, Little Johnny didn’t take me out into the desert when Mama told him.

I work nearly every day now. There seems to be no end to the number of adult men who want an hour or so with a young boy willing to do things in the comfort of a bed. Many of them are married, which makes me wonder if I’m satisfying some urge they can’t explore with their sons. A lot of them are preachers of some sort.

My last customer this afternoon was a priest from over by Sacramento. He was older, probably close to sixty, I guess. Grandfatherly. Gentle. Had trouble getting it up and keeping it up. Couldn’t stay hard enough to fuck me, but I guess I satisfied him because he gave me a hundred dollar tip. He said he’d be back now that he knew I was here. He said I reminded him of an altar boy he knew many years ago who died in Italy during the war. I asked him what the boy did for him. He said everything. He said, “Billy was the best altar boy I ever had. He liked most lying on his back with his legs around me when I mounted him. He pinched my nipples.” I did that for him, but he couldn’t stay hard. I told him not to jack off for a few days before he came back. I blew him and stuck my finger in his ass. When he came the semen sort of oozed out of his dick. I felt sorry for him.