HOUSEBOY Jack Sprat I'm a light skinned Mexican boy of Spanish descent. My mother is Mexican. I never knew my father. I lived my first 16 years in the farm country near Fresno, going to school whereever I could. My mother, a migrant farm worker, moved place to place, picking whatever produce that was in season. I have three sisters and two brothers younger than myself. We all helped in the fields. I was always grubby, dirty, and hungry. I wondered if things would ever get better. My name is Carlos. One day, a group of businessmen from San Francisco came to inspect their farm. It was a typical roasting, hot summer day. I was sixteen years old, working in the field wearing only tight cut-offs. A straw hat kept the sun off my head. Picking requires me to bend over. While the other men moved along, one stayed behind. I got real nervous having him watch me. He asked my name. When he found I wasn't working on Sunday, he asked me to town for a milk shake and a hamburger. He said he might have a job for me away from the fields. His name was Bill. He was real nice and seemed real interested in my welfare. He said, when he saw me in the field, he figured that I was kind of above the rest. He asked if I would like to come to San Francisco and be his houseboy. I would have my own nice room and he would train me. He felt that I could also fit in school. I would start at $600 a month with room and board and he would even buy my clothes. I couldn't believe this. I would be living with an important rich person. I would be able to go to school and also send money to my family. Bill visited our humble two room sharecroppers house. He met my mother. My mother was real pleased. She told me that I should go, that I would promise Bill that I would be honest, obedient and a hard worker. My whole family was happy for me. Bill told me to only bring a few personal belongings, we'd get some new clothes in San Francisco. That night, I put my few things in a brown paper bag and slept restlessly. It was just a few hours drive to San Francisco. I'd never been there. I was amazed at the tall buildings. I enjoyed my trip. I was riding in a black sports car with leather seats. Before, I had only ridden in beaten up farm trucks. We arrived at a big building. There was a gateman at the entrance who let us in. We drove under the building where there was a big parking area. Bill wheeled his car into a stall between two other rich cars. We walked to the elevator. I felt real self conscious with my shabby clothes. I gripped my bag of possessions closer as the elevator sped silently upwards. The elevator door opened. We stepped right into his apartment. "This is my place," Bill said. I gasped. Thick carpet supporting beautiful, expensive, furniture. Two walls were glassed, giving a view of the city. Everything in the room was beautiful, clean and shiny. To me, it was a castle. There must be a king and queen somewhere. "This is the living room," Bill said. " "Now let's look at your room." Bill led me to a door and we both entered. There was a large clean bed, covered by a pretty spread. Cases covered the pillows. There was a television and a hi-fi. This was for me? This was my room? This was where I was going to stay? It was awesome. My legs shook. I was a peasant Mexican farm boy. I felt so inferior, so humble. I didn't know what to say or how to act. Bill opened an adjoining door. It was my private bathroom, all sparkling tiled. There was a toilet that flushed and even toilet paper. A frosted door opened to a shower stall. Bill went to a dresser, pulled open a drawer, fished around, bringing out new white underwear. "I bought this for you, plus some of clothes which will do until we can shop for your wardrobe. Now, I want you to shower." I guess I stood under the hot shower water a real long time, using the bar of soap all over. I wrapped a towel around me and stepped out. Bill reached atop the dresser and picked up a small bottle. He uncapped it, put his thumb over it, then rubbed his wet thumb over my chest. What ever it was it smelled real good. I felt so fresh and happy. I felt I was a prince. Bill asked me to sit on the bed. He reached down, grasped my legs, and swung them onto the covers. He put his hand on my stomach. Moving down, he opened the towel. Bill was a very rich important man with much power. I was a humble peasant boy. I felt so docile and servantile. I wanted to please him any way I could. I melted when he touched me. If that's what he wanted, I would let him. My prick got hard. His hand felt it all over, uncapping me and stroking me, then putting it in his mouth. His tongue tickled my tip until I let out a startled cry as my white stuff shot out. Bill rolled me over. I got up on all fours while he gently examined me from behind. His hand lightly fondled and tugged my balls while he eased his spitted finger up my asshole. His other hand reached below, pulling my peter until more white stuff splashed on the bed covers. Everything felt real good and Bill seemed awful pleased too. I lay real happy while Bill stroked my chest. When I recovered, he sat me on the edge of the bed and undressed. He took my hand and guided it to his balls and cock. I hesitantly started to fondle and feel him. He moved in closer. I put his prick in my mouth on his asking. Bill moaned as I licked around real good. After his warm stuff filled my mouth, he rubbed my head and gave me a nice smile. "You and I are going to get along real well. Tomorrow, we'll shop for more clothes." HOUSEBOY 2 I awoke the next morning with Bill's gentle shaking. I looked around. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. My room was like a fairy-tale, yet it was true. I snuggled further under the soft clean sheets, and worked my body deeper into the mattress. I was radiating with happiness. Bill gently shook me again. "It's time to wake up. We have shopping to do." Bill pulled back the covers, felt downward and grasped my morning hard- on. I raised my butt so he could pull my shorts off. His warm hand gently fondled and played before he slipped me in his mouth. His tongue felt good. He continued until I gave a small cry and spurted, offering satisfying, relief. I sat up, Bill dropped his pants. I put my head under his shirttail. He came quickly. Bill told me that this is how he wanted to start each day. We took a taxi do do our shopping. I'd never ridden in a taxi. I felt real important. I'd expected we would go shopping at K-Mart. Instead, we took an elevator in a big building and entered a door marked, "Jacques Pierre". I didn't know there were stores high in buildings. This store had a few racks of mens clothing, and a bunch of bolts of cloth on shelves. One part of the store was partitioned off. Inside, a young barber was just finishing cutting another man's hair. "Before we measure you for clothes, you'll get a hair cut," Bill said. I leaned back in the chair. My hair was washed again even though I told the barber it had been done the night before. Strings of my long black hair were pulled about and snipped. It seemed that the snipping and combing went on forever. Next, my hair was pulled about with a brush and a hot blower dried it. I was again combed and fussed with. It was taking so long, I was starting to get fidgety. Finally the barber stood back, admired his workmanship, and handed me a mirror. I couldn't believe it was me. My black hair was always long and stringy. Now it was all clean, combed and waved. It looked terrific. I looked terrific. When Bill saw me he smiled real wide and told me how handsome I was. We then went to see Mr. Pierre. Mr. Pierre took the draped tape measure from around his neck and started to measure me all over. "Tight in the crotch and remove all looseness in the seat," Bill ordered. Mr. Pierre grunted his acknowledgment. He said he had several pairs of pants that might just fit me if we wanted to take them along until the custom tailoring was finished. He offered a couple of nicely styled pullover shirts I might also want to try on. I stripped to my waist. The shirts were real stylish. I liked them. I removed my pants and tried on the new ones that Mr. Pierre presented. They were a little long but Mr. Pierre made a couple of chalk marks and said he would tailor the cuffs right now, then he disappeared. I was standing in my shorts in front of the 3-way mirror. Bill and I were alone. "Drop your shorts." Bill said with a grin.. I looked at my naked body, the three mirrors showing all sides of me. I was light brown and had a slim build. I liked my butt. My prick hung limp through my patch of dark hair, its tip hidden by its foreskin. My skin was fresh and smooth. My hair styling was perfect, accentuating my dark flashing eyes. I realized I was, indeed, very handsome. Bill got turned on, but edgy. "Hurry! Pull your shorts up before Jacques returns!" HOUSEBOY 3 I said that Bill was a very important man in the food business. He sells to foreign governments. They buy trainloads at a time. One night, Bill sat down and had a talk with me about big business. He told me that lots of things were done in Washington politics to close big business deals. He said that big private business did the same thing. When big money was at stake, the prospective buyer was given anything he wanted. What pleased a lot of the buyers were young girls ...or young boys. Bill said that a Japanese buyer was coming to San Francisco with a letter of credit worth millions. He asked that he be provided with a handsome young boy. Bill felt that if the buyer was treated right, his company would get the order. "Over a million dollars?" I asked? "Try twenty million." said Bill. "WOW!" I said. "A TWENTY MILLION DOLLAR SALE?" This amount of money was impossible for me to imagine. Bill nodded. "And you, Carlos, could play a very important part in helping get this contract." "Me? How?" Bill spoke softly. "I want you to let him use your body. He likes boys." I was stunned. I got angry. What I did with Bill was O.K. But, to let a stranger, mess around with me was unthinkable. I stamped to my room, slammed the door, and fell on my bed. My mind just couldn't put things together. As I cooled down, the twenty million dollars came to mind. Bill just might get another promotion, and look at the produce that would be bought, probably a lot around Fresno. With my help, the pickers would certainly get more work. I fell asleep thinking about it. It was always my job to get up earlier and awaken Bill every morning. This morning, Bill was gently shaking me awake. I looked up to his smile. His hand reached under the covers. As always, I pulled down my shorts accepting his fondles. "Think any more of last night?" Bill asked? "Yes! I'll do it," I replied. ..... The night Mr. Takashi arrived, I served dinner. Afterward, the two men retired to the living room to discuss business. Later, my call bell was rung. I was on stage. The two men were sitting in comfortable chairs sipping after dinner liqueurs. "You called, sir?" "Yes, Carlos. Mr. Takashi would like to see your naked body. Please disrobe." As rehearsed, I did a slow motion striptease. I removed my shoes and socks and pulled my shirt over my head. I stepped out of my pants. Only tight white briefs covered my crotch. An outline of my stiff prick pushed against its basket. Mr. Takashi's eyes were glued to my body. "I slowly dropped my briefs then approached Mr. Takashi." Mr. Takashi reached out, gently felt, fondled, and uncapped me. He gripped my waist and turned me. His fingers softly ran over my butt cheeks then moved slowly up and down my crack. He spread my cheeks and stared at my asshole. "Can we go to a bedroom?" he politely asked. I took Mr. Takashi by the hand. Naked, I led him down the hall. I hardly had time to crawl on the bed before Mr. Takishi was all over me. He spread me, turned me, bent me into every position so his tongue could reach everywhere, including my asshole. I'd not jacked off for two days as I wanted to have a real good load for him. He swallowed my all of my cum. If any splattered about, he licked it up immediately. He loved my butt. His finger was frequently in and out. "I'm going to fuck you," he said. I'd never been fucked because I'm too tight. People talk about Oriental males, and their little "rice sticks." I was in luck. Mr. Takashi had a little oriental rice stick. I might have a little trouble but felt it would fit. I got my butt in the air in fuck position. Mr. Takashi lubed his prick and pushed against me. It was a bit uncomfortable but entrance was made. I wiggled my butt and made moan sounds which I hoped would please him. He banged me until he came, then spent, he dropped to the bed and rested. "Now, tie me up, gag me, tickle me, and whip me. Stop only when I wiggle my fingers." I didn't want to do this. I didn't know how. What if I hurt him too much? I tied his hands, then his ankles, stuffing a pair of my dirty shorts in his mouth. I tickled his feet, watching his short, naked body fight and squirm. Just for the hell of it, I ran my finger up his ass a couple of times then resumed tickling. I could never cause anybody pain, but Mr. Takashi asked for it. I rolled him over, took off my belt and doubled it. There was fright in his eyes, but apparently fright he enjoyed. I brought the leather down on his wreathing butt until it was glowing then, timing each stroke, criss-crossed his back leaving welt marks. Mr. Takashi was weakening. Finally his fingers wiggled. I untied him and let him rest. I went across the room, sat, and looked at him bewildered. I could not understand how some people enjoy this. It was a good hour before he sat up. I felt real guilty as I helped him to the shower and gently washed his welts. He winced a lot as he dressed. Before he left, he came over, smiled, wrapped his arms around me, and cried. I didn't know what to think. I just held the hug until he finished crying. Mr. Takashi reached in his pocket and brought out a small black box. "It's for you." "Open it!" It was a beautiful expensive wrist watch. I was speechless. "Thank you," Mr. Takashi said, bowing. Mr. Takashi walked painfully down the hall. I must have waited for several hours before Bill flew in the room. "YOU DID IT! YOU MADE US RICHER!". Bill never asked me to participate in another business deal and had he, I would have refused. I stayed with Bill until I was out of college. Because of my part in this contract, Bill saw to it that I was well taken care of financially. We parted very good friends. I now live in Fresno, own my own farm, and have my own houseboy. To this day, I can't understand how Mr. Takashi received so much pleasure from what I did. -THE END-