Date: Mon, 13 Aug 2018 19:27:39 +0000 From: THOMAS HUTCHINSON Subject: Small Business If you enjoyed this story and if you can afford to, please send a donation to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Help keep the flame of freedom burning. Small Business by T. Edward Hutchinson If you enjoyed this story and if you can afford to, please send a donation to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Help keep the flame of freedom burning. Small Business by T. Edward Hutchinson Feeling that he needed a change of scene, Phillip put his house on the market, sent his antiques to an auction gallery, gave his car to charity, and put tag sale signs on nearby telephone poles stating that it was a big indoor sale, not yard or garage. He stacked all of the items that he intended to take to his new residence into what had been the dining room, including a few recent purchases that he thought would make life in his new place simpler and easier, and closed that room off to the expectant horde. On the morning of the second day of the sale he told people that everything was half price. In the afternoon what remained was offered free of charge though some folks insisted on putting money in his hand. He did not object. Early Monday morning, Phillip loaded a small one way U-Haul truck. A removal company cleaned out everything that remained in the house. A cleaning service tidied up. A little after 10, he left Amherst on his way to Brunswick, Maine and a two room apartment he had rented sight unseen. It was coincidental that the retired professor of history's first floor apartment was in a house situated at the corner of Union and Lincoln. His exclusive entrance was at the side of the building on Union a mere dozen feet from the sidewalk. The door opened directly into the combination sitting room and kitchen. To the left there was a compact full bath and to the right a door to the bedroom. He was able to park the vehicle in front of the walkway. All of his property was brought inside and he returned the rental truck before 6. Phillip had the taxi from the U-Haul lot leave him off at the supermarket. He purchased prepared food for his evening meal and everything he wanted for his breakfast the next day. It was a short walk from there to Union Street and three blocks to his new home. Having satisfied his hunger, the fellow set his home in order. He put the parts of a new, inexpensive, single bed together, topped it with a thin mattress, dressed it with sheets and a comforter, and one thick pillow. Between the two windows he placed a small table with a drawer for his pens, stationary, envelopes and stamps. Open corrugated boxes stacked three high served as a clothes press. In the living space portion of the front room he placed a white plastic table with two matching chairs to the right of his front and only door. A faux embroidered cloth covered the table. On top of this he set a desk top computer facing the kitchen and a small TV facing the other side of the room where two more white plastic chairs were arranged. After organizing the kitchen and the bathroom he rewarded himself with a glass of milk and a few chocolate chip cookies. Then he retired for the night. ***** Early on the morning of his first full day in Brunswick, Phillip began a systematic exploration of the town. He walked the entire one block length of Lincoln St. to Maine St. which amusingly is the main thoroughfare of this college town. Turning to the left he passed a delicatessen and came to a doughnut shop. He stopped in for a honey dipped twist and a small decaf. He sat by himself in a small booth. The place was busy, no one made eye contact with him. The same happened with folks he passed on the sidewalk. No one was friendly, no one was hostile. It was as though the little old man with a beard was invisible, except for the counter worker who took his order. A little further on he discovered a large, well stocked organic foods market. He crossed Maine St. and turning to the right he saw a laundry that provided a wash and fold service. He proceeded toward the college a quarter mile away, passing an upscale coffee shop and a bakery. There were at least eight restaurants including Greek, Italian, Indian, German and an unusual number of banks. There was a pizza parlor on each side of the street, a 7-eleven, a gourmet foods shop, a candy store, and a small movie theater. Eventually he came to a small park, walked around it and crossed back to the other side of Maine St. turning to the right. There was an ice cream stand and further on a sign to another coffee shop that was set back from the street and boarded the huge parking lot of the supermarket. It seemed to Phillip that it was the funky sort of establishment that would attract a gay clientele. He had a second coffee and a croissant and made a mental note to come again. ***** Of course Phillip searched the net for information about the gay scene in Brunswick. There were a couple of organizations but no bars or even gay friendly accommodations or eating places listed. Several cruising areas were identified and he checked out a little park near the bridge over the river. It looked to him like it was used at night for the drug business. Times had changed, he thought. The general acceptance of LGBT people, at least in towns like this one, made it less necessary to have separate and special places. Therefore they didn't exist. A month went by, Phillip continued to experience a sense of invisibility. Then it occurred to him that there might be hustler activity. His previous acquaintance with that sort of thing had been unsatisfactory. The interesting young men would become difficult or obnoxious as soon as he got them home, so much so that he would pay them off just to get rid of them. His conclusion was that the business wasn't suitable for little guys who couldn't intimidate someone with their bulk. But he was getting restless. His thoughts turned to a consideration of where in this town young male sex workers might ply their trade. The 7-eleven, right next to a Domino's Pizza, caught his eye as a likely location. One Friday night around ten o'clock Phillip decided to check it out. The building, well set back from the sidewalk in order to accommodate two sets of gas pumps and parking spaces, was brightly lit only inside the store. Phillip spied one young man leaning against the blank side wall of Domino's. He was in the classic hustler pose of one foot up against the building. The parking area was otherwise deserted at that particular moment. Perhaps the youth was waiting for a driver to pull up to the pumps and flash his lights. Phillip bought a small coffee in the convenience store giving himself the same excuse to loiter outside that the young man was using. As he approached he estimated that the fellow was between eighteen and twenty, wearing jeans and a jeans jacket over a white t-shirt, sneakers without socks. The youth's hair was ash blonde, eyes brown, about 5' 9" tall, pale complexion, sturdy build with a good pouch. To Phillip the fellow seemed not quite tough, a little dangerous but not very. "Are you working?" he asked. "What are you looking for?" "I want to get fucked." "fifty dollars." "I can't manage more than forty right now. Will you be here tomorrow night?" "I'll take the forty." "I live nearby." "Let's go." They walked mainly in silence. Phillip noticed that the lad's coffee cup seemed nearly empty and offered half of his. "Decaf, milk and sugar. I'm Phillip." "Max," and he accepted the coffee. At the little apartment everything was done quickly and efficiently. Max was paid and departed on his way to the shabby, preowned Chevy that he had left in the out-sized parking lot of a bank. While driving back to his parents house in Auburn; he contemplated his experience. The little old man was so poor he couldn't expect to get much money from him. But the apartment was interesting because of its size and location. ***** On Saturday Phillip made himself a salad for lunch, then he went out for a walk. He turned right at the corner of Lincoln and Maine wandering along, window shopping. He was surprised to see Max coming in the opposite direction accompanied by three scruffy teenagers. They were nearly on top of him before he spotted them which contributed to his being startled. "I was looking for you," Max said as he closed the distance between them. The youngster put his arm around Phillip while the other kids gathered close. The old man was turned and walked back to his apartment. The three boys were approximately sixteen, fifteen and fourteen, the oldest and the youngest looked to be brothers. Phillip was too astonished and too fascinated to object or even to comment. At the door, Max put his hand into Phillip's right pants pocket and extracted his key. He unlocked the door, opened it, and said to the two older of his followers, "Take him into the bedroom and strip him." Handing the key and two dollars to the fourteen year old, he told the youngster to go to the hardware store and have a duplicate made. Then Max went inside to begin the lesson he planned for his two trainees. They were to learn how to fuck a guy in the ass, something that any hustler should know how to do. In a demonstration with explanation, Max covered the basics of lube, fingering and stretching, slow steady insertion, a pause to let the sphincter relax, and a gradual increase of the length and speed of thrusting to the point where one can forget about any rules and just hammer away however it feels best. The older boys were directed to practice what they had just learned. Meanwhile the youngest member of the gang returned with the keys. He was told to watch the others and to take particular notice that the old guy was not in any distress. Max checked that the new key worked properly, then replaced Phillip's key in the old man's pocket. Max had a general sort of plan for it's use, details to be worked out as they went along. After Phillip took a shower he found the four youths lounging about in his front room watching TV. Max introduced him to the three members of his group. Bob was the oldest, his brother was nicknamed 'Skipper.' They were both from Brunswick. The middle boy was Ernie from Auburn. They were all in high school while Max was a recent graduate. They seemed to like talking about themselves, but did not care to ask any questions of the old man. After a half hour of this, Max shooed the kids out the door. He stayed behind only long enough to say that Phillip didn't owe him anything for today and that he would see him soon. He didn't tell the old man that he had his own key now. Skipper didn't tell Max that he made a third key and kept it. ***** Phillip was surprised Wednesday evening when Max let himself in and stocked his refrigerator with a case of beer. "For the weekend," the youth explained. Then he hurried off saying that he had a date in town. Saturday afternoon an old red pickup truck parked in front of the apartment. Max and Ernie carried in a two person, none too clean, faded green sofa and an unmatched, red upholstered arm chair, similarly dilapidated. "Free stuff we picked up." A scratched coffee table completed the ensemble. They showed Phillip how the sofa opened up to a single bed when they put a brand new waterproof mattress pad protector on it. They also put one on the bed in the other room. "They're washable," Max assured the old man. "You don't want the mattresses getting stinky." The brothers showed up a half hour or so later with chips and dips. They all settled in for an afternoon of watching sports on the TV. "Some of us are planning to work tonight and might bring a customer here. We wont disturb you if we can help it," Max promised. ***** At first the boys' business was slow, the apartment was used only one or two times each weekend. On a weekday afternoon, Skipper let himself in with a man in tow. "Hi Phil," he chirped and led the fellow into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. They were not very quiet. A half hour later the man departed leaving the bedroom door open. Phillip went in to check on the kid. Skipper was lying face down. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Am I bleeding?" "Not that I can see. Do you want me to check?" "Ya." "Hold on then. I'll get a wet wipe from the bathroom." When the old man returned he spread the boy's legs and gingerly cleaned his anus." "There's a little poop, cum and lube, but I don't see any blood." "Whew, I was worried." "Was this your first time?" "Ya." "My first time I was tender there for a while. Whenever I sat down the next day it felt like there was still a dick inside me. The soreness got better each day and was gone in a few days. It wasn't long before it didn't bother me at all. I kind of miss it. When you next sit on the toilet you may see some cum and a little blood. It's nothing to be worried about." As he was telling Skipper this, Phillip was rubbing the back of the kid's neck. "Do all of you have keys to my apartment?" "No, only Max and me. I was the one who went to get the duplicates made. Don't tell Max." "OK, but you'll owe me for that." "Do you want to fuck me too?" "No. I've never fucked anyone." "Really?" "Really." "So what do you want then? "Touching rights, like I'm doing right now, for example." "OK, but only when no one else is around. Actually, I really like you Phil, you're a good guy." "Do the others like me?" "Max does, a little anyway. My brother and Ernie are kinda neutral. No one says anything bad about you." ***** Gradually, more men were brought to the apartment on weekends. One fellow began to participate in the Saturday afternoon gathering of the boys bringing with him a bottle of rye and a plastic bag of marijuana. The youngsters were pleased, Phillip was not. Skipper arrived one school day afternoon with a thirteen year old boy with a chipmunk face and two gentlemen. The kid slipped Phillip a five dollar bill and suggested that he treat himself to something somewhere and give them an hour alone with the customers. Skip's younger pal joined the gang thereafter. Another man began attending the Saturday afternoon session. Henry brought scotch, coke and a collection of amber pill bottles. Only Phillip and Max abstained. Several weeks went by before Henry knocked on Phillip's door on a Tuesday morning. He said he had been thinking that Phillip's apartment was too exposed for the operation that was being conducted there. "It's not my operation," Phillip insisted. "I know that. It's Max's, sort of. In a way each of the kids is an independent entrepreneur. That's one of the issues, but the big problem is that there are too many men and boys coming to this location and it will only get worse. I have a better location, a much larger semi-derelict apartment building. It has four floors with two large apartments on each level. The other tenants are mostly people with problems of one kind or another. There are already a lot of comings and goings. I want to move the operation there and provide management; better marketing, too." "You mean, take it over." "Right." "Why tell me all this?" "I want you to continue your role, be an adult presence. Without you or someone like you the kids would get too wild and mess everything up. If you move Max and the others would hardly notice the change. You get free rent, by the way. And you should consider your position. If the law got involved no one would believe that you weren't the responsible party. The boys would just be the victims. That's how things work these days." Phillip took this as a warning of the probable consequences of a failure to cooperate. ***** An hour after the bus left Boston headed for Indianapolis on the way to Santa Fe, Phillip gave Max a friendly poke in the ribs. "I'm really glad you decided to come with me. Have you thought about what you want to do when we get there?" "Maybe go back to school, if your serious about supporting me for a while." "Of course I am. There's a community college there, St. John's College and a branch of the University of New Mexico nearby. So it's a college town as well as a tourist town." "Just don't forget that I'm the boss." "I wouldn't have it any other way, Max."