Chapter Three

Building the Boy Business

(Trials and tribulations)

Patrick had a client list of over 5,000 men within the first year. His bank account exceeded six digits with fifty-two boys on the payroll. Having their schedule a month in advance saved a lot of trouble. Most clients were oil and gas executives frequently in town on business who were used to booking in advance. For the most part the boys were punctual. There was the occasional illness or last minute snag that prevented one or two of them from fulfilling commitments. And, when this happened Patrick scrambled to fill the appointment with one of his live in stock. He hardly ever saw the burb dwellers. For the most part, communication with them was via email.

But, just as in any other business, shit happens. If a boy felt uncomfortable with a client, he was free to leave. There were a few incidents where the trick got carried away but Patrick maintained a zero tolerance for S&M. Those men were black listed. There were a few times when he did get a text message reading ‘911’, their code for trouble. Patrick knew where every boy was or, if he didn’t remember off the top of his head, he would refer to the schedule and after rounding up a couple of older teens to accompany him, he would pay a visit and rescue the boy in distress. Mostly, they walked in to see a second or third man in the room with rape on their minds and the boy with no way out. Needless to say, the last thing on their minds was sex after several teenagers and Patrick were done with them. The teens took their wallets and clothes leaving the men, who were mostly locals, naked to make their way home.

* * *

Patrick decided to throw a party. It was long overdue and he knew that it was something he should do periodically to recognized the boys for their efforts and get them all together to meet. On this occasion, he saw fit to invite the Dirty Dozen who had been his first customers and who inspired him to build the business. They had never met face to face but it was like they had known each other all their lives. They knew the names of the others wives and kids, professions and, of course, taste in boys.They knew about each leading their double lives sharing their shame and pain with each other.

Patrick also wanted to christen his new in-ground swimming pool that now took up almost the whole back yard. He had lattice extensions added to the fence-line for privacy, although he was pretty certain that the top floors of three surrounding apartment buildings could surely see silhouettes under the colorful chinese lanterns. Clothing wasn’t optional that night; nudity was mandatory. Sex was casual and free. Booze flowed freely, as did cocaine and marijuana. Even Patrick broke his own rules for the sake of the festive occasion.

Patrick had expelled three boys for breaking the rules. He purchased four backpacks that he nailed to the vestibule wall. A subtle reminder on entry to the house that one of them might end up toting his possessions on the way out and without recourse. All three times it broke his heart, but the precedent had to be set in the interest of the other boys.

The Dirty Dozen were going to gang-bang Calvin that night. He was ready to be rented out and, even though David was aware, he was none too pleased. But, he knew very well that every boy living in the house earned his keep eventually. He was also well aware that the alternative was taking two of the backpacks off the wall, his little brother by the hand and leaving. But they were safe in the house with Patrick and David did not want to relive the harsh environment of the streets that he knew so well and hated.

The men followed Patrick who was holding Calvin’s hand. Their cocks were rock hard in anticipation of what wouldn’t be their only cherry taking ritual. Patrick would eventually replace the older boys who outgrew their usefulness with 11 and twelve year-olds whenever possible. But, with plenty of thirteen and fourteen year-olds flocking to the city and being referred to ‘Safe Haven’ for boys by cops and other ministries, he had plenty of stock on hand.. It was presumed by the unsuspecting that the Very Reverend, Reverend Patrick worked at, and convinced his flock of wayward souls to go back home and make peace with their families.

Yeah, right. Every boy was there for a good reason of his own and Patrick never took it upon himself to question If the boys talked among themselves, Patrick didn’t know nor did he care. The only reason why he knew their last names was through the banking transactions depositing money in their accounts after the client emailed his full satisfaction for services rendered. If not, the boys were docked, but that seldom happened, if ever.

Patrick bent Calvin over the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and lubed himself. Four of the eleven members of the Dirty-Dozen held the boy secure. The men differed in so many ways, from obese to slender, nice looking to downright ugly, from their mid-30’s into their seventies. Calvin cried begging for mercy as Patrick worked into him. Calvin was tight; frustratingly tight. It was like trying to stuff your cock into a coke bottle. Inserting his cock was painful but Patrick was making head way while blocking out the boy’s screams. Patrick had had younger and what he thought were tight boys at the time but none of them compared to Calvin.

The members of the Dirty-Dozen were all stroking their various size cocks that ranged from tiny to humungous. Each was waiting their turn to rape the boy that eventually they all did eventually partake in. Fifty-two year old Michael sported the largest cock Patrick had ever seen. He had heard some of the boys who had been with him complaining that the man was huge. Patrick paid little mind to what the boys said and was always taking into consideration the possibility of exaggeration.But, in this case, the boys were certainly not making it up, Michael was almost as thick as a pop can and just about as long. He was certainly impressive but not very practical, Patrick thought. Only when the boy was full of cum and well spread, could Michael have a last go at him but, definitely, not before.

After the third fucking, Calvin went limp. He stopped crying except for the occasional sob when another cock took him. Cum was leaking out of the boy’s reddened, swollen hole between fucks. He didn’t need to be held down anymore. He just succumbed to his fate and let it happen without a struggle. No one man lasted more than a few minutes of harsh pounding. Twelve cocks later with a few second go arounds thrown in for good measure, they finally left little whimpering Calvin still hunched over the cedar chest, cum dribbling out of his inflamed rectum. David, his older brother, was sitting on the floor outside the bedroom. Patrick admired the boy all the more for his love of his little brother. He felt a twinge of guilt then but, thankfully, it didn’t last long. David had been helpless to do anything but let the twelve men abuse Calvin and wait to be there for him afterward. Slowly he wrapped his arm around Calvin and led him into the shower to help him clean up after his ordeal.

Some of the boys weren’t shy about finding a fuck buddy. All were whore-boys, yet the kids from the burbs held a certain air about them. They had a home and a family. They didn’t have to share a room with twenty other boys, had their own things in their own rooms, safe from being stolen. They were envied yet respected by the live-ins. As Patrick passed what used to be the spare room, he saw six boys engaged in a drunken/stoned orgy. Josh was one of them.

Several other boys were MIA Patrick noticed as he stepped outside. Nope, they weren’t gay, as they so publicly claimed. They were just having fun as they would later justify it among themselves. The Dirty Dozen had all checked into the sleazy motel down the street. Patrick had offered them the services of any boy of their choice for the night from the remaining twenty or so frolicking in the pool. Patrick would certainly honor their bank accounts as usual for services rendered. The six leftovers he took to bed for himself that night.

* * *

The live-ins weren’t exactly one big happy family. On the contrary, they fought constantly. The boys had formed together in clicky groups of three or four inseparables. The older boys occasionally raped the younger, new boys. By age sixteen, these older boys were of no more use to Patrick unless they looked younger than their age While shaving off body hair only took the deception so far, bodies outgrew the image. As well, crack-cocaine unfortunately altered their reality; they stopped attending the home school classes preferring to sleep in instead. Those trouble makers were soon sent packing and could often be seen standing on the boys stroll sharing a pipe and selling blowjobs for the low price of a hit of crack. All too soon they would turn to petty crime in order to subsidize their habit and end up in jail. The cycle continued.

The ones that stayed clean were welcome to stay at Patrick’s house. There was still a market, although small, for those older teens. The few that did stick around helped out around the house and, more importantly, helped break-in the new boys. Patrick also paid for them to get their drivers licence and they acted as couriers dropping off and picking up boys around the city using Patrick’s minivan.

Mostly, they earned money from Patrick by recruiting boys from the local swimming pool or arcade, befriending and seducing them. The privacy of a small bedroom Patrick had constructed in the attic served that purpose. Known as the “Groom Room” it was equipped with a large screen TV hooked up to play the latest video games or to show mood enhancing porn movies featuring young boys and girls with teenagers and men. Once that process was complete and the newbie was receptive to sucking cock or taking it in the ass, Patrick would join in for sex. Later he would offer what amounted to a king's fortune in the eyes of a boy by explaining the ways and means of earning anything they wanted. Eventually, he had more urban boys than live-ins to satisfy the peak weekend demands.

* * *

During the first five years in the flesh trade business, Patrick had only one brush with the law. One evening, two detectives came to the door. Patrick invited his visitors to join him in the kitchen and, as they walked through the house, they passed by many boys laughing and playing various games.

“We hate to disturb you, Reverend.” The cop in charge said. “But we got a complaint from a Jason Walden that … well, he claims you sexually abused him.”

Jason was a misfit, had become a drug addict and was a bully towards the other boys. Patrick gave him his walking paper three months earlier.

“My Lord.” Said a seemingly shocked Patrick, “And what kind of trouble has master Walden got himself into lately to start spreading lies. He’s selling his body to sadistic men again, I would guess.”

“Yes, sir.” The older cop said. “He claims all the boys here are rent-boys under your control.”

Thankfully it was a quiet night, only seven boys were out working that night, the other seventeen were in the living room enjoying themselves. Their giggles, laughter and boyish rowdiness could be heard from the kitchen.

Patrick put on a saddened face, shook his head and said, “I rescue boys from leading that life, detective. Jason refused to conform and in the best interest of the other boys under my charge … sadly, I had to dismiss him. He had already raped two of the youngsters … shall I get them for you?”

The cop looked embarrassed and replied, “That won’t be necessary, Reverend. But I do suggest that if something ever comes up like that again you call the police. Young Mr. Walden beat and raped a ten year-old boy last week. He claimed that you taught him how.”

“My goodness, he is a bitter lost soul that boy. I kick myself now for not turning him over to the authorities as a dangerous offender. When boys come here, officers, they are in trouble with no where to go. They fear the homeless shelters and soup kitchens where they are often abused by the older clientele. They also don’t trust staff not to report them as runaways and trust me, most of them don’t want to go back to wherever it is they ran away from. Sad as it sounds, they’d rather starve than take the chance. Can you not imagine how bad things must have been back home to choose this kind of life?”

“Yes, Reverend. I can only imagine the horrors.”

“They come to Safe Haven, no questions asked.” said Patrick now assuming his sanctimonious pose. “We nourish them, give them a safe place to sleep and we home school them. I wish professor Donaldson was here at the moment to back up what I am telling you. He is retired and is a volunteer teacher here. He could tell you the wonders these boys have achieved.

I would be thrilled if you boys could come over on career day … that would be the first Friday of every month … and promote the police department as a virtuous and honorable livelihood …” Patrick went on laying the bullshit on nice and thick.

As if on cue, a round of laughter erupted from the living room. The detective smiled and said, “Well, they sure seem happy to me. Sorry to have bothered you, Reverend, but we had to follow up on the boy’s complaint.”

“I just pray the young man gets the help he needs now.”

Patrick fucked both brothers, David and Calvin, that night after he had them suck each other while Josh blew him. If he ever saw that fuckin Jason Walden again he was going to shove a broomstick up his arse and come out his mouth. Patrick was proud of the way he handled the detectives, however not without some fear and trepidation. He couldn’t be more careful in the selection process after the police visit. Over the next year, the business continued growing with almost 10,000 clients from around the world and over 100 boys on the roster. New urban chicken was found and seduced by seasoned teens and supplied at a reasonable price to eager clients by appointment only. Patrick knew some men saved up their money for a twice a year rendezvous with the boy of their dreams, usually requesting the same one or two each time.

Patrick enjoyed his retirement financially free and his bed was never without his choice of the evening, Josh became his right hand man learning to book and confirm appointments, to collect the Paypal receipts and directing the funds accordingly. Josh eventually took over the business long after he and Patrick became lovers and lived happily ever after with a constant supply of fresh chicken in their bed.

The end ….

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