Date: Sun, 8 Jan 2017 18:13:45 +0000 From: Jesse Gibson Subject: Triangle Boys chapter 5 TRIANGLE BOYS By Rev Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, DMin DISCLAIMER: THis story is fiction. It involves male prostitution with both of age and underage boys, primarily but not exclusively having gay sex. If you find this objectionable, please do not read. If you find this erotic, please enjoy Complaints, compliments, comments to revjpgibson@hotmail.com Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming FIVE Miss Melinda had to wake them up. It was actually the grumbling and the bodies beginning to stir in the mass of flesh that he was in that finally brought Ian to life. He had fallen asleep between Adam and Ben and when they began to reluctantly stir, Ian turned over to steal another minute's sleep. Finally, he had to give it up under the transvestite's urging. Still sticky and crusty from the night before, he stumbled down a short hall to a bathroom made for a dorm. Multiple toilets, a urinal and a four head shower solved the problem of who got the bathroom first. All of the boys had stumbled in there and were showering together, some more cross than the others. Refreshed a little and dressed, the boys crowded into the kitchen for a noisy breakfast. Most were shoving bagels down their throats but Adam and AJ were eating a large bowl of fruit, diced and mixed together as a salad. "See, for breakfast Adam goes with the raw food" AJ told Ian. "Eat plenty of fruit. It makes your cum taste better." Adam told him. "Two big helpings a day. Because you are what you eat. Like, for instance, if you're going to do water sports, drink beer. It's a diuretic but it doesn't make your piss bitter like caffeine does. Just because a guy's getting pissed on doesn't mean he wants it all bitter. You can do mixed fruit, it doesn't matter. I tried only eating pineapple, coconuts and drinking rum to see if I could cum a pina colada but it didn't work." Ian wasn't sure that was sound advice but he had the fruit anyway. The older boys stumbled out early after chugging coffee or sodas and then the younger guys began to collect book bags for school. He was a little surprised that school would still be on the agenda, and a little pissed about it, but also felt at loose ends, not knowing what to do once they left. "Sam wants to talk to you, honey. " Miss Melinda told him. He made his way to the office, which is the first room as you enter the loft. It was the size of regular bedroom but with a desk, a small filing cabinet, a large safe and a love seat. He took his place of the love seat as Sam sat in a leather chair watching him. "Your ass sore?" "Yeah, some" It was actually worse than that, it actually hurt, but he didn't want to admit it. "I'll bet" "Did I do something wrong?" "No. Of course not," Sam nodded with a serene calm that was unnerving. "This is the same talk that all new boys get. I need to tell you about the rules. I don't have many but they are enforced. There are three that are critical. First, what we do is illegal. You don't want to go to jail and I sure as shit don't want to. So, you don't tell anybody what you do. Not a friend, not a boy that you are trying to get into bed, not a teacher, not a counselor. Nobody, ever. They won't understand and they won't approve. They'll just fuck us up. Don't hint, don't leave clues, don't tell anybody." "Got it." Ian was used to keeping secrets and was good at it. His time as a child porn star had ended because of the recklessness of the adult man not because of him. "What we offer clients is boys that are handsome, good in bed, discreet and disease free. That means that there is no bareback sex ever. If anal is involved, condoms are used. It doesn't matter if you are the top or the bottom, no barebacking. Even if you're fucking one of the boys, even if you fall in love." "Okay" "Third, teenage boys being what they are, you're going to want to get fucked up sometimes. Alcohol is okay. There's plenty of it around. Pot is okay. You get an allowance, a quarter every two weeks. If you need more, your first option is try and get some off of the boys who don't smoke very much. That's Max, AJ and Joe. Of course, Corey, Thomas or Adam will have all ready beaten you there. Otherwise, you buy from Carlos, who will sell at it retail prices. Ecstasy is okay in moderation, LSD is too if you just have try it. Again, your connection is Carlos. Heroin, crack, crystal meth and GHB are strictly off limits. Heroin involves needles and that means HIV. Crack takes away your looks. So does crystal. Tina makes you do stupid things and makes a bad fuck. As for GHB, there's no way to dose it safely. " "And Carlos tells you how much we're buying?" "Yeah," Sam admitted. "Which reminds me, Adam is going to be your trainer, but it looks like Ben is going to willing to show you a few things as well. The good part to Adam is that he is the best in the business. If you listen to him, you'll learn a lot. Now, I don't want to misunderstand what I'm about to say because I love the boy like a son, but he's fucked in the head. He likes to party. He does everything full speed and he's never come up against an experience that he didn't want to try. I recommend that you do like Ben and Karl which is go along for the ride for a while but know when to get off." Ian thought about it for a minute. It might just be that he would be willing to go for the whole ride. "Is he in trouble a lot?" "Turns out that charm will get you out of a lot. He pushes the line a lot but he doesn't cross it." After that, Sam just gave him the rundown almost as if he were the new employee at Starbuck's. The pass codes to all the locked draws were given. He got an i-phone with a panic number all ready programmed in. If he dialed that number because a client was forcing him to do something that he didn't want to do or if he felt unsafe, then all kinds of shit would rain down. They found closet space for his clothes, some of the third floor and the rest on the second. Ian got the grand tour of the second floor where they did most of their work. It was tastefully decorated and laid out, designed to be a good space for them to ply their trade. When they got down there, there was the client that Corey had been with the night before, relaxing and reading some papers. When Sam introduced him, Ian noticed that the guy had not been that interested in him. But it turned out that this particular client liked older, more buff boys. Both Sam and Brandon assured him that there would be plenty of interest from others. Brandon had asked if he had a preference for condoms or lube, but he didn't, although he was told that they use non-latex condoms. There was a ton of different kinds of lube. He had better answers upstairs when Miss Melinda quizzed him about food likes and dislikes. The tour over, Sam took him to a bank and he got a safety deposit box. For the next year or more, he would be paid in cash and it was supposed to go in there. Sam called it his emergency fund, money that he could get to if everything went to shit. Plus if a client gave him a gift that was valuable, he would have a secure place for it. Going out of the bank, Sam called a man named Marty and told him that he would be over shortly. It was about going to school, which is not something that Ian was looking forward to. "Why do I have to go to school?" he wanted to know. "Because it gives you some structure, gives you something to do during the day and because you aren't going to be young and pretty forever. The day is going to come when you'll need to have had some education." Sam told him. They drove to the Thomas Square area and went a large, white stone building on a leafy side street. Cranham Hall Academy was a old school, over a hundred years old, named for Oglethorpe's English estate. At one time, it had been prestigious but by the early 90's falling attendance and the decline of the neighborhood had forced the school to the brink of bankruptcy. Soon after Sam had graduated from there, a group of wealthy businessmen had stepped in to make donations, done at his urging. They had all been clients. Thinking ahead, he had basically taken control of his school. Clients had populated the Board of Trustees ever since. About a decade ago, they had installed Martin Roberson as the headmaster. It was a surprising choice because Martin was a very wealthy man himself, having parleyed a Ph.D. in Geology into pioneering work in oil exploration. He had also been Sam's first client, introduced by Sam's uncle. The fact that Martin had a fondness of for young boys had not been a hindrance in the Muslin world that he worked. In fact, it was because of his contacts in the Middle East that had helped make Triangle as successful as it was, attracting men from all over the world, if they were in the know and could afford it. It also is true that Martin was an important link in the money laundering that was necessary and made another fortune off of that. Cranham Hall only had about 250 students and didn't have a large school bureaucracy to deal with. Sam took Ian directly into the office and told Martin that he needed to start school. He would be going on the books as a scholarship student. "Ian Hansford" Martin wrote onto a form. He looked up at the boy, studied him and then looked closely at the file Sam had given him. "Surely there's not a connection." "Actually" Sam corrected him. He wsn't eager for the discussion "Oh, I'd forgotten. There was a pregnant girlfriend. That was a detail that got missed. But frankly, I don't see the resemblance. The blonde hair, I guess. But if memory serves, he was a very muscular young man. " "Ian has a younger brother" Sam said "Oh," Martin said looking up at the ceiling then toward Sam, who remained emotionless. "Well, that must be it" Ian knew that he was being talked about but didn't understand what Martin was saying. All he could figure was that he failed to measure up to somebody. "What?" Sam told him he would explain later and that finally clued Martin in. "Oh, dear. I've said too much. But it's nothing negative, young man. You've done nothing wrong." The reassurance only confused him more. Then he began to resent that they were keeping secrets about him from him. His resentment only grew when Sam didn't come clean after they had finished filling out the paperwork. Eventually, Sam took him to the Broughton Street Diner and bought him a large sandwich that they ate on a bench in Oglethorpe Square. Sam was silent and Ian was growing angrier about it. "What was he saying, that guy?" Ian asked Sam put his sandwich down. "It was no big deal, it actually wasn't even about you. How old were you when your mother died? Nine?" "Yeah" "Remember much about her?" Ian shrugged. "Yeah, just MOm stuff though. Whatta you mean?" "I knew your Mom some, we went to school together. And I knew her boyfriend, your brothers father, some." "Justin" Sam nodded. "Yeah" Ian thought about it. "He thought Justin was my dad" "Yeah" "Did you know him?" Sam looked at him in the eye. "No" "Did you know how she died?" Sam looked down, sad. "The story I heard was that a john, a client, killed her. Then Justin overdosed a few days later. That's what I heard." "So she was a whore?" Ian said Sam shrugged. "Yeah. Her mother got her in the business." "Why did you tell me about it?" "It's going to come up. We have clients who were around back then." "But that isn't the reason, is it? You wanted to see how I would react. Like another test, see if I'd pout or scream like a little kid. Well, Sam, here it is: I don't fucking care. My mother was a whore, my grandmother was. I'm going to be a whore too. And I'm going to be a good one too. I'm going to be the best. Because that's what I want to be. But I don't have to put with a bunch of fucking mind games." "It wasn't intended as a mind game, Ian." "Why don't you like me?" Ian blurted out. "Is it because of what me and Ethan did together? Because of the videos?" It took Sam by surprise. He put his hand on the boy's knee. "I do like you. I don't hold the videos against you." Ian stared at him. "I know when people are lying to me `cause I've been lied to a lot. I can tell the difference. And you are a fucking liar." He stood up and began to march away, toward the monument, the direction he would have to go either to go back to the car or to storm off toward River Street. Sam caught him by wrist and pulled him backwards a half step. Ian wrenched his wrist away and asked, "Should I be scared of you?" "No." Sam answered. "I'm not trying to hurt you." Ian stared at him hard but knew that it was true. He couldn't understand why Sam didn't like him but also bore him no malice. He turned away and began to walk in the general direction of the loft. Then, he turned around and asked, "Am I hurting you?" Sam looked up. It took him a minute to form the right words. "You have no idea how complicated life is." "I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you. I don't even know what it is I'm doing that you don't like. But I'm not going to be somebody I'm not. I am who I am, like it or not. I can't know how complicated it is because you don't want to tell me, do you? I don't know what your other secrets are but I know you've got them. And it isn't fair. I think that whatever they are, some of them are things that I have a right to know. I don't think you're bad but I don't trust you either. I think I'm going to walk back. I've got the codes to get in. I want to be alone for a little while." Sam watched him walk off and hoped he could, or would, find his way back home. Back to the home that he had chosen yesterday. As he watched the boy, who was a little clumsy in his movements because his brain was not used to his new found height, Sam began to tick off the regrets in his mind. Most of them were for things that were out of his control but there was one big one that had been. Inwardly, he knew that there would have to be payment made for that and it would be painful. They wouldn't mean to cause the pain they would, neither Adam nor Ian, but they wouldn't be able to keep from doing it either. He knew he had no choice but to bring them into his fold even though they had the potential to destroy him.