He Touched Me

The next morning I was stiff and a bit sore but Jack just laughed, said it only happened once and it happened to everyone, just part of the occupational hazards. Call me eager but I asked him to fuck me again, just so I'd remember how good it felt however he said there was a difference between getting broken in and just plain broken. Sides, and he had a shit eating grin, he had an idea that would keep us in high cotton for at least a few years, that is if I didn't mind him sorta being my manager or pimp, whichever. Didn't bother me cuz something in me said this was the way to learn, just like Pop always said, you can learn anything but when you learn from the best, you only have to learn it once. 

"Maybe I should run over to Pop and have the date tatted on my ass...just for memories"

"You're too young for that and, what I've gone in mind almost demands that you not be marked like that. Truth is, I've thought about getting some ink, know some guys who are real pros-your Dad is one of them-but some tricks say it cheapens a guy and, he laughed, The customer is always right. "Maybe someday....We got a big day ahead of us, go soak in a hot tub and I'll order breakfast then we'll go shopping."

The concept of shopping was a little beyond me. I always had clothes, Pop made sure I had clean, reasonable new clothes, shoes, underwear but usually they came from thrift shops or the guys on the street who sold clothes from barrels. Only thing we ever went to a store for was shoes...he said as you grew up and had to be on your feet more, starting out with good shoes, ones that supported you, paid dividends. As far as I knew, I had clothes although I remembered the previous day when I'd felt like a poor relation when we walked into the hotel. Jack was well dressed, had what looked like good, not flashy, clothes and seemed to know what you wore. Anyhow, to that moment nothing he'd said hadn't panned out and...though I didn't tell him...Pop told me if I ever got scared or something didn't seem right to get in a cab and come to the shop, he'd pay for it, and I'd be safe there. I remembered the guys who hung around the arcade and protected people, although I didn't know them well, I did realize that if I showed up and was in trouble, whether Pop was there or not, they'd jump in and solve whatever problems I had. In a close knit place like the arcade you were in and known or you were out and a threat, whether I realized that as such I don't know but what I did know was it represented saveight, the warm water felt good and while I was soaking, he sauntered in, got up a bowl full of hot water, took his brush and shaving mug, worked up a good, thick lather and shaved. He looked at me...Better get you set up with a razor 'n all. You shave everyday? I was looking at the hair over your cock and realized that you needed to trim that and we gotta keep you looking young...you'll see why. If you've soaked enough, get out and I'll give you a shave then you need to learn how to use a barber shop, too damn much trouble to shave everyday and, besides, for two bits, you never know who you'll meet that might need some services. And he winked at me.

I could tell he wasn't happy about it but there was nothing to do but put my old clothes back on me to go shopping. At least, he said, some clerk would look at us and know he had a guaranteed sale...

Back through the lobby and into a taxi where Jack said, “Carson, Pirie, Scott” that's about right for where we're going. I enjoyed the taxi ride which was all too short before we pulled up to a large, fancy looking department store. Jack over tipped the driver-he explained that in a pinch they not only could find clients but could be helpful with ones who were proving difficult but simply driving to where a cop was and saying that your trick was attacking you...even if that wasn't quite true. The way he said it, in his offhand way that I'd learned meant, Listen, I'm teaching your something I made a note and then, taking a deep breath followed him into the store.

He must have spent more than two hundred dollars on me before we got done. Clothes like I never thought I'd own...suits, nice pants, three pair of shoes, ties, all sorts of things. Two suitcases, that matched, to put it all in, as well as a kit for my shaving things which we still needed to buy. He told me department stores weren't good for mens' personal items and he knew a shop that specialized in that as well as a great place to get a facial, a massage a shave and a haircut. When he looked at my head of hair I figured at least one of us was gonna get clipped. 

The barber shop he took me to wasn't quite what I expected. I'd seen lots of barber shops, usually one room affairs where the guy who cut your hair owned it and, likely as not, lived above the shop themselves. Usually they'd been in the neighborhood for years, knew everyone and, likely as not, gave a guy his first hair cut and the one before he got married. But the place we went to was in an old, beat up office building, had no barber pole outside the door and no glass windows so you could see in and judge how long the wait might be. Couldn't do that here, the shop was in a third floor walk up.

Apparently Jack knew the place as the cutter welcomed him and was curious about me. First he explained that I was in need of shaving things, a hair cut and probably a lesson on how a man shaves...if I didn't already know. Also, he wanted my body hair cut back to look as if I was a bit younger, not off, just trimmed.

 The guy who was going to do all this wasn't dressed in the white coat I associated with barbers, was smoking a cigar and had on a T shirt which exposed many tattoos, few of them the sort of work my Dad would have approved. Some of them down right obscene, like the one on his index finger which had a cock on it and, on the opposite hand, when he put his thumb and finger together, formed what looked like an an ass hole.

"Okay, kid, strip,  lets see what we got to work with." I'd never been told by a barber, and I'd only been to a real one a few times, to take off my clothes. For once I was a little frightened and just a little afraid. If Jack hadn't been there, well, if Jack hadn't been there, I wouldn't have been there.

"Turn the lock, we don't need company," the guy said as I peeled. Both of them stood me in the middle of the floor and surveyed me. The guy, no one told me his name, reached down and fingered my cock and the hair above it...." I could do a light treasure trail here....only from the navel, trim off some of the longer hairs around the cock, scrape the balls...as for his head....what's the sales pitch gonna be?"

".Virgin in a whorehouse....he's a master at tight assing but I want him to look good, shy, not....costs a lot of money to fuck a virgin and he's going to be one.."

The guy pursed his lips, tilted his head," yp, good call, strong, about the right age to get popped...get a good line to go with it and...you're the man with a good line. You keep him looking like this and one day, well, you know, get a right fine price.." He laughed. Got out a pair of scissors and comb.

"Uh, no, that's not going to happen. I know what I could get and more for both of us but...sorry you even mentioned it, cuz I'd do a lot than to even consider that. Might sell you, they'd love someone....you know what they'd do first...but slow." The guy got hard just hearing him talk. "But for my boy, Never."

"After he's cut, mind if I have a piece of him?"

Jack laughed, "You old fart, you know I don't give out but I'll give you a cut rate and I'll fuck you, hard, and,...the way you like it. With the strap. The barber rubbed his nuts..."With the strap?"Uh huh", said Jack as he lit a cigarette..."while the kid takes a bath, you, me, the wall, you know the rest. Hard, you'll be red but...if you don't do a good job on my boy.... and he faded off. It was clearly a threat but I didn't know of what. "Oh, I'll do a good job, so good maybe you'll let me blow him.....". Jack thought about that..."Why  not.suck him off after he's been clipped, barbered and shaved..Can I...tie him down? Be good practice for him." Jack seemed to be thinking..Lets see the job you do and I'll decide...but the better the job the more likely....Both of them were silent while the guy started working on me. 

I'd never ever had the hair on my crotch so much as combed so this guy with clippers, a comb and scissors...was...different. Didn't take him long and then he laid me back, put my head in a basin, washed my hair, raised me and cut it. Not much, but it was evener, actually made me look a little younger as, somehow, there was a youthful shagginess that suggested it couldn't grow down onto my face. The shave was...great...not long enough. He looked at Jack.

Jack smiled, Sure, just watch the teeth.... The guy leaned the chair-and me-back then leaned down to my dick and started to lick it. Well, that felt good, I got hard, he took it in his mouth so that I could feel the warm, moist interior plus the pressure. I was already squirming when Jack held me down. joy it, kid, this is part of the job...you just paid for what you 

got with your own jizz..... I shot almost immediately to the disappointment of the guy who was licking up what I'd leaked out and, dropping his pants, jacked off letting it fall on the floor in the bit of hair that was also mine. "Hey, not enough, Jack, not enough...you gotta take me...you know, the hard way.

Jack smiled as usual, rubbed his pants, seemed to think about it and then...."Sure, the hard way. You still got the room in back? I want the kid to get cleaned up and we're gonna put his new clothes on him then he can watch, maybe take a hand, I'm teaching him to be a pro..I guessed that this must be the guy's apartment, lots of people lived above their shops but...we were up in an building. I made a note to ask Jack.

 The room to which everyone was referring wasn't what I expected; There was a bath room, toilet, sink, shower and bathtub on one side on on the opposite wall, metal rings, chains that hung down, leather straps...Both men stripped and suddenly Jack got nasty, jerked the guy to the wall, pulled one arm behind him while he grabbed a cuff for the other wrist, attached that to a hook on the wall then did the same with the other one. Jack took some time to draw a warm bath for me and leaned in, quietly, "Watch, this is a specialty you'll need to learn, he's a pain freak, likes to be spanked til his ass is bleeding and then I'll fuck him. You get a good bath, like I've taught you, empty the tub, go grab a shower and dry yourself off, just don't get dressed. Just watch."

From a box, Jack took a mask that covered most of his face, a leather jock and a very business like looking whip. He popped that a few time and then curled it around the guys ankles, laid it over this back and let it slide ount 'em  let the whip fly for real. The guy screamed one and almost pulled out of the wall. Jack just stood there. I almost forgot to wash myself. Next minute, he switched off for a paddle made from flexible something or other and placed it against the guys butt. Ready? Keep counting...we're going all the way to red and I wanna see blood. Somehow between what was going on and my curiosity as to what Jack wanted me to learn, I almost forgot to wash up The guy was bent over and tied in such a way that he could rise. His ass was the center of attention which Jack ran his hands over, spread his crack, smiled, picked up a razor strop and didn't even bother to ask if the guy was ready. With the first strike the guy started to make noise and by the third time he's was letting out a long, low scream that sounded like a moan at the same time. Jack took his time between strokes, would go up. Fondle his ass, check it for color and then say, "Nope, not nearly red enough...we're a dozen, may two away from that red, no blood. Yet."

He looked at me and quietly indicated I should join him. In my ear he whispered, take the whip and give him a couple, I'll show you where to put your hand...like that...now look at a spot and, yes, draw back, really put your shoulder into it..and I whipped him. Did it again but then Jack took the thing back. "Good lad, now go sit and watch how I'm gonna finish him off."

The tempo and the pace both picked up and within less than two minutes his tail was Christmas red, blood was beginning to seep up so given those signs, he reached down, got his dick hardened, used some of the blood to grease himself and then fucked the guy, not slowly, just one straight shot as deep as he could go

 I'd never seen anyone fuck anyone that fast but probably Jack was ready and couldn't waste time...pulled out and his seed fell all over the bloody ass.

Okay, kid, your turn. Gotta know how to fuck as well as be fucked and this is an opportunity you won't often get. Whipping is part of the game, so is pain and that's what our reddened friend here is into. Lots of it. He reached down and played with my nuts, my cock and finally, just to make sure, sucked me off for a second before leading my dick to the cherry red opening and just said, take him hard and fast, make him scream. 

He put the handle in my hand, showed me how to make the whip end, the business end he called it, curl around the floor then how to draw back and with less effort than I'd thought, make the pass in the air so that the whip, a good foot of it, caught him right across the top of his thighs. I'd found new territory but Jack wanted me to raise the strike marks up to catch his ass which was already tenderized and oozing blood. Next time and the time after were close to where he wanted. Smiled, took the long wound leather thing in his hand then finished the guy off to the point he opened two deep stripes that bled almost immediately.

"There, look at that. When a client says they want pain, understand what and how much. Most men after the first stroke like he got would pay you double, triple just to stop but pain pigs like this one, well, he may have some boundaries but I sure haven't found 'em." 

We got dressed, the guy was still attached to the wall, blood dripping from his tail. Jack paid no attention, just lectured me on some of the basic points of what I'd just seen and done, all of  it interesting, all of it stuff I'd never dreamed of knowing. Back at the cafe when the guy asked me to do something with him in the bathroom, I assumed that was pretty much it or maybe there were one or two things more but...I didn't know them or thought I did. Between shopping, getting a lot of my hair cut, getting a professional shave, Jack allowing me to whip a guy for real, not just like some kid getting a spanking, it was more than just educational, though I learned, I'd enjoyed it in ways that I didn't really understand. He looked over at me, saw my pants rise where my cock was getting hard thinking about what I'd done and....something dark, wonderful now fulfilled inside me made me tell Jack/Ace....I'd liked it. He just smiled, patted my crotch, and enjoyed the rest of the brief ride back to the hotel

Jack took out the packages from the store and put some of the new clothes on me. "Need pressing, but that can't be helped....here, step into these...good...ever had cufflinks? Thought not...here, I'll show you how. Also, tonight when we strip, need to show you how to roll them back when you're playing poker. Know how to play?" I did, a little, a very little but figured my very little didn't match what he had in mind. 

He did up one last button, put a coat over my  arm then turned me toward the crazed mirror over the basin in the room. I just stood there wondering who that man, not kid, was? Me, of course, but not like the me I knew, saw everyday. Okay, that's how you're going to look everyday but...I got a variation for you. Put these on.

I stripped, he wouldn't let me wear underpants, put on a pair of knickerbockers, a plain shirt, some high top leather shoes, a vest, left open, and the kind of floppy cap usually worn by newsboys. He turned me to the mirror. "What do you see now?"

It was staggering, for all the world I looked about three or four years younger, almost like a big kid but nowhere near what I'd just shed. He smiled. "That's your young look, the one we're going to market. Fluff your hair, make it look like you just ran in from playing ball...." I did. "Yep, even I'm a bit amazed, just like my son with his old man who's fallen on parlous times." He laughed, told me to change back to being an adult.

"Want to go surprise your father? Let him see you all duded up?" Of course I did but...dressed like this somehow, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want him to think just because he'd never bought clothes like this, I resented him because now I'd seen the green grass people always talk about. Told Jack that. He sat down on a chair and had me stand beside him. "Son, what you just said shows you got a good heart and your old man raised you right. Forget what you think, he knew perfectly well the day you and I walked up the street that this is what would happen. IF it hadn't he'd be after me for stealing his kid and not living up to my promises. It may not always be as good or easy as these last days but....I promisse, we'll never be hungry, always have a safe place to sleep, and....for a time, always have each other." He smiled and I thought I saw some water in his eye. I was hugged, kissed on the cheek, he stood up picked up the strop, gave the barber one last lash, threw the keys to the locks where he could reach them and we were out the door.

We got dressed, the guy was still attached to the wall, blood dripping from his tail. Jack paid no attention, just lectured me on some of the basic points of what I'd just seen and done, all of  it interesting, all of it stuff I'd never dreamed of knowing. Back at the café when the guy asked me to do something with him in the bathroom, I assumed that was pretty much it or maybe there were one or two things more but...I didn't know them or thought I did. Between shopping, getting a lot of my hair cut, getting a professional shave, Jack allowing me to whip a guy for real, not just like some kid getting a spanking, it was more than just educational, though I learned, I'd enjoyed it in ways that I didn't really understand. He looked over at me, saw my pants rise where my cock was getting hard thinking about what I'd done and....something dark, wonderful now fulfilled inside me made me tell Jack/Ace....I'd liked it. He just smiled, patted my crotch, and enjoyed the rest of the brief ride back to the hotel

Jack took out the packages from the store and put some of the new clothes on me. "Need pressing, but that can't be helped....here, step into these...good...ever had cufflinks? Thought not...here, I'll show you how. Also, tonight when we strip, need to show you how to roll them back when you're playing poker. Know how to play?" I did, a little, a very little but figured my very little didn't match what he had in mind. 

He did up one last button, put a coat over my  arm then turned me toward the crazed mirror over the basin in the room. I just stood there wondering who that man, not kid, was? Me, of course, but not like the me I knew, saw everyday. Okay, that's how you're going to look everyday but...I got a variation for you. Put these on.

I stripped, he wouldn't let me wear underpants, put on a pair of knickerbockers, a plain shirt, some high top leather shoes, a vest, left open, and the kind of floppy cap usually worn by newsboys. He turned me to the mirror. "What do you see now?"

It was staggering, for all the world I looked about three or four years younger, almost like a big kid but nowhere near what I'd just shed. He smiled. "That's your young look, the one we're going to market. Fluff your hair, make it look like you just ran in from playing ball...." I did. "Yep, even I'm a bit amazed, just like my son with his old man who's fallen on parlous times." He laughed, told me to change back to being an adult.

"Want to go surprise your father? Let him see you all duded up?" Of course I did but...dressed like this somehow, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want him to think just because he'd never bought clothes like this, I resented him because now I'd seen the green grass people always talk about. Told Jack that. He sat down on a chair and had me stand beside him. "Son, what you just said shows you got a good heart and your old man raised you right. Forget what you think, he knew 

We hustled out real quick, down the flight of stairs, out the door and, very quickly, down the street toward an intersection. Spotting a cafe, we went in, took a table-jeez he had a great smile which he showed the waitress; She perked up, quit chewing gum, almost smiled back. "Okay, mister, what's yours? Some coffee for you and...your friend?"

"Hey, pretty thing, this is my son, can't you see the resemblance? Betcha if we were to lower....well, you'd see it right away." It was vulgar but, looking at her, so was she. Laughter, more of a smile, her yellow dyed hair, too many years of working in cafes-something I knew more than a llittle about-made her look hard, worn, probably wasn't yet thirty but her glory years, if she'd had any, were far behind her. But it was obvious she liked the looks of what she saw, I could see her wondering if maybe....was the kid old enough to screw. 

If it was obvious to me, Jack was already onto the next thing; Coffee, cream and sugar. "Food here any good?"

"Nobody died since last Wednesday"...and they both laughed. I didn't because I knew cafe food, knew the cook, if he liked you, could set up a plate that was actually good enough to eat. Jack slipped up, brushing against her tits as he did.

"Cookie back there"

"Sure thing, mister but I can do more for you than he can." They both laughed again. That left "Daisy", it said that on her name tag, and me alone. She looked at me. "Yer a cute kid, sure will favor your old man, what're you called, honey?"

"Jack, Jack Deuce, Deuce cuz I'm the second Jack, my Dad,  he's Jack Ace...that's what I'm called, Daisy." It just struck me as the right thing to say. About then Jack came back, smiling, as always, sat down picked up a menu and looked it over.

"Ya gotta real cute kid, Ace....yeah, he told me, you're Jack Senior, Ace and he's Jack Jurnior, Deuce. Real clever just like the kid. He's gonna be a handful, better get him a chastity belt so you don't have any more cards. Don't look the sort of man who wants a Trey...."

Jack looked at me, his face wreathed in a smile, winked at me and, somehow, I knew I did something right. Daisy filled up our cups, took the orders back to the kitchen leaving us some peace. "Jesus, uh, Deuce, how the fuck did you think that up, it's ....brilliant. Solves all sorts of problems, exactly what a slightly sporty father would do with his kid, call him after cards. You have earned yourself something extra, don't know what but extra. Oh, the cook. Gayer than a ballet done naked. Ugly mug, but if you know where to put your hands, course he looked out and saw you as well, thinks three of us might find a way to do....something."

"Are we?"

"With that ape? Whatta you think?"

"I think he's kinda, I don't know, maybe beneath us?"

Jack lit up again. "You're learning fast, no trash, no grease, even if they offer you a lot of money, maybe you can accept but only, only after they've been tubbed and scrubbed, shaved, front and back, checked for disease-I'll show you what to look for-and, again, only for a lot of money." He paused and smiled at me. :"Ya know, Deuce, I'm going to like having a smart son, one who's wising up fast. You're Dad will be proud to, I know what you think but, listen, this is what every father wants for their son, a chance at something better, maybe better than they've got and that's what you'll have and everything you've showed me, you were made for this job. Three years, Ace and Deuce will probably be brothers, knocking 'em down and fast as they show up." He looked out the window which wasn't cracked, unusual for this sort of place then looked back at me. "Deuce, how far would you go? I mean sexually?"

I shrugged, "Don't know, I can't say yes or no to something I don't know about. Shoot, the barber and what we did there wasn't something I even thought happened 'cept maybe in the movies when the good guy was captured by the bad guy."

"What are we, good guys or bad guys....and don't hold your cup like a mug, it's got a hole for a finger, use it. Pick something like that up like a field hand and you say something about yourself. Just like when you sit, watch, a lot of men will pull their pants legs up. Sure sign they're not used to wearing a suit, hayseeds probably, even if they try and hook up with you, scared like bunnies if you suggest they take off their socks and their garters. And their long johns. Can't drill through red wool...."

I laughed because I knew just what he meant. Dad talked about the men who came in, did just what he described and, if they wanted a chest eagle or something on their arm, getting the red union suits off them was a trial. And, he always commented, the smell when the skin and fur was exposed.....I told Jack/Ace that.

"Your Dad really did teach you a lot that will be more than helpful. He's a good man, instincts of a gentleman, just....not in the right business where that would make any difference. Course, the way he treats his clients does help his reputation but....about smell,. oh my fucking God is he right. I never, ever go with a man who looks like his only association with water was, maybe, when someone made him wash up for supper. Maybe. There are uses for men like that, someday I'll show you a bulling contest....money for us and don't even have to unbuckle a shoe. Fact is, when we finish here, we're going to see your Dad. Do you understand, now, why he'll be proud, not mad or annoyed? This is what he sent you to me for, anything less and you'd be back with him and I'd have my nuts kicked in. Savvy?"

I didn't know for sure what savvy meant but I nodded my head yes. Daisy was coming toward us with two plates and looking confused.

"Ace, I don't know what you said to Lonnie but....I never seen this food here. That's real beef, not something chopped up that I wouldn't eat. Fresh vegetable....how'd you do it?"

"Honey, just like I'd do you, a little grease on the pole......"

She thought for a second, then roared with laughter. "See you found Princesses secret. Flaming fag, can be a good cook but...I still don't know where this meat came from. Oh well, " She put a plate in front of each of us, "Enjoy it and, if you've got left overs, cue me and I'll slip you a bag."

"Wouldn't a hard working lady like you rather have a good meal? Just like this one? I told Lonnie how nice you'd been to my son and me and he was to give you a plate like this, fresh coffee for all of us, maybe something for you to take home."

Her face relaxed, some of the hardness gone. "Gee, Ace, you're well, you're Aces, do that for me? I'll see you each get two pieces of pie or whatever you want. Nobody did anything like that, nobody.......Thanks, Ace, you too doll face, come around when you grow hair down there and I'll help you mow it....."

No matter how it sounded, she meant it kindly, really was pleased. I had to know, what had he done about the cook. "Nothing, he wants to take your picture with his brownie and why not. Just...take off your coat and shirt, no further, and he'll be satisfied, we get a free meal, Daisy gets a free meal and, for one second, maybe appreciated. She came back to the table.

"Acey, Deucey, fresh coffee hot off the stove. I'll just leave it here...mind if I take a cup?"

"Better have some cream in it...." and they both laughed though I could see Jack didn't think it was funny, but it kept the happy mood going along. I'd eaten about half of my meal when Lonnie came out the bussing door, a place I knew well from previous jobs. Sidled into a chair with us, enquired about the meal and then asked about the picture. Ace said  sure, nothing below the waist which seemed to disappoint him. 

"What if I was to slide under the table and blow you both?"

"Sorry, love to let you but....I get paid when a man wants to sample my meat. This is the depression man, the foods great and we're much appreciative but remember that fiver you've got in your pocket? That kinda squares the deal. Deuce and I are square shooters, no hard feelings but uh uh. 'Preciate too about Daisy, you know, if you treated her some better you'd get more repeat business. I'll bet Deuce and I'll be back. Food like this? A man remembers where it came from."

Lonnie actually smiled, flashed the fiver and went back to the kitchen. "We gotta get a scoot on. You about done? Don't bother with a paper bag, never take food with you. We'll never be that down." One more thing, he did some sort of wicked fold on a ten dollar bill and put it under the coffee pot. 

"I don't know how, but....that will buy us something somewhere now come on, out the side." He left a tip in silver on the table where it could be seen, the nickel under the edge of the pot, but I could imagine Daisy looking up, wondering where we went then finding the ten....it would be a good day for her.

As usual, with Ace, we didn't seem to be in the right part of town to grab a cab and I had no idea where we actually were. "Fuck, I'm lost....okay, learn something and watch how I do it...." We stood there for maybe ten minutes until a cop car came along. Jack/Ace waved it down and, looking at us, they stopped, were very polite and sympathetic to what Jack said which was a lie but it accomplished what he had in mind. I remembered it so that I could use it another time. Just tell an officer you had been given a bad address and...where were we? Lots of guys hate the cops because they have to turn people out or arrest them for stealing food but...I never did. It wasn't a pleasant job and they probably weren't paid too much, just enough to maybe support a wife, maybe some kids and, this was something you didn't think about, their uniforms were provided and cleaned for free. Naturally they did what they weren't supposed to do and took us to a bus line which led to downtown and back to the hotel. Jack took their names and badge numbers and, that night, did write the chief on the fancy hotel stationery complimenting him on his two fine officers. I asked if that would do them any good to which he just shrugged and said he hoped so. Anything good about a cop in these times has to be received as an indication that someone is doing their job right. 

We took a cab to Dad's and, just as I'd thought he was busting out thrilled to see both of us. Admired me, the way I was dressed, couldn't thank Jack enough, said he'd never worried....it wasn't a job he'd a chosen for me but....if it made money, I was happy and Jack thought I could do it, well, not everyone wanted to be a tattooer either. Damn few in fact and fewer good ones. The two men clapped each other on their backs, Ace took off his coat, clearly preparing to have a jaw with Dad, a conversation in which I probably had no part but...without Dad's permission, I couldn't leave the shop and go wander around the arcade. 

It was Ace who suggested that someone sort of take me around, not knowing about the guys in the back room. Dad went right for that, peeked in, found Ham, told him to shower, get slicked up cuz he was taking a high tone dude around. I couldn't see his face but it probably puzzled him. We could hear the water .....Ace suddenly thought of something. "Jack is there a mens shop in this place?"

"Sure, down about, six seven stores, on the corner. No high style stuff, but good quality, stuff any guy could wear. Why?"

• "Just an idea, just...an ....idea." A few minutes later Ham came through the curtains and...stared. Smile on his face, picked me up, tossed me in the air, was really glad to see me and, frankly, I was glad to see him. Dad's never quite explaining what the problem was made me think that maybe....everyone took such care, such watchful care because they were maybe really sick and couldn't make it much longer. I hugged him back, made him put me down but he wouldn't leave my side. Jack looked him over very carefully then summoned me outside.

"Get him some nice, not fancy, nice clothes. Good work pants, couple of shirts, new shoes, underwear, socks and, aren't there two of them? have him pick out kind of the same for his buddy. Also, there's got to be a hock shop, learn how to dicker remembering YOU have the money and they want to make a sale. Get each of them a watch, one that runs, has a big face, sweep hands, should be able to get two for the price of one and a half. Give you five bucks for that and I want to see change. Okay, at the store, get good shoes, work shoes, leather, no whatever, make him try them on until he finds a pair he likes, get a pair for his partner....."

"Ace, do you think he and the other guy are....together?"

:"Your Dad talk about the war, the trenches, being gassed?"

"Yeah and he started to tell me something then just...didn't'

"Happened to a lot of real nice guys, like these two. It effected their brains. They need a quiet existence with people, this is important, people they trust like your Dad, you, probably a lot of the other people along the arcade. When you're with him, kind of think of him as your child, he won't notice but the gas sort of robbed him of his making what are simple decisions for us, hard to him." He looked at me very seriously. He loves you, he thinks of you as something to protect but at the same time...he's kinda like a child so....you'll have to lead him but make him think all of things he buys were his ideas. He'll know the money comes from you but...make him think it's for all the years he was a big brother to you which....probably has some truth. Enough telling you what to do, you're smart, you'll get it done.:" He reached for an inside pocket in his suit coat and took out a leather case that zipped around the edges. "Can't be flashing big bills around here but.....here's about a hundred, maybe fifty on the side if you need it. Five for the watch, I'll be checking to see how well you can haggle....put the bills in two or three pockets, all inside and one last thing...."He pulled me into an alcove. "Know how to shoot? Well, you will but for just today, put this in a breast pocket, your left side cuz you're right handed"...and produced a small gun. If you have to, and there's no reason to think you will but...if you have to, shoot to kill." I looked at him and knew he meant it. I nodded and mouthed what he'd said as I reached in and adjusted the grip making it easier to grab. "Damn, that's just what you're supposed to do...think you can give some lessons?" He smiled his great smile, slapped me on my tail and sent me back to Dad and Ham. He loitered back, theoretically looking in some of the windows. Many shops had  been abandoned but whoever owned the arcade tried to make it look like there was more there than there was. Put up some decorations at Christmas, Easter....kept it clean, Ham and Joe were great at that; The whole arcade looked good, they even washed the windows of the stores that were closed, took down the signs across the door that announced Sherriff's sales so it didn't seem quite so bad....they tried.

Shopping with Ham was like nothing I'd ever done. Maybe as a child I was like this but...my Dad shopped from street peddlers, not in a store. It took far longer than I'd thought it might but, I gotta say it, his joy and enthusiasm were catching, I wqas excited for him as he was for himself. Finally, he settled on what he wanted for him and his partner and it was on to the shoe shop. This was easy, not much selection, just made sure they were sturdy and, I was glad to find, they sold work socks. We bought four pair, two each plus a pair of house slippers. It was understood that if two of the pair didn't fit, they could be exchanged. It was probably the biggest sale of the day so the owner of the shop readily agreed, even through in some shoe wax and a brush apiece. Okay. I let him wear one pair out and almost had to guide him as his eyes were on his work boots, not where he was going. One last thing, the watches and, I would have bet, this was a test to see how well I could get what I wanted for the money allotted. I'd never been in a pawn shop, knew nothing about watches-until Ace put one around my wrist I'd never worn one so walking into the shop to buy two watches was  almost a nightmare for me. What I had not planned on was the way I was dressed and the way I carried myself. Leaving Ham outside also helped because the guy behind the counter kept looking out the window, nervous as Ham was a big man and he could be forgiven if he thought he was up to no good. Finally realized that, leaned against the counter, laughed and said, "Worried about the guy out there? Well, don't, he's there for me, my, uh, muscle if I happened to find a spot of trouble. Now, show me some watches, please." Jack always said, be polite, makes you the better man, puts the sucker or the John at ease. 

He brought out several, explained them to me, quoted a price which I saw as an opening bid; Occasionally guys came into the shop and tried to dicker with Pop, offered him less than the stated price. No sale, but he figured he didn't lose anything. If the guy asked around for someone who did work, he'd be back. I found one that was ten cents under three dollars and, a bit always, one he hadn't shown me; I asked to see it. Side by side they looked durable but a bit more than I wanted to spend; I remember being told to bring some change. Time to play a card, called Ham in and while he looked at them, and cast a long shadow, I offered the guy four dollars for the pair. Then stopped and looked at him. "Couldn't do it for that....how about 4.90?" Great! we were now under five dollars and all he could do was go lower while I came up...ten cents. He knew I would buy if I got the price I wanted and he could sell two watches; This was the depression and God knows how long they'd been there. "Four Seventy? Throw in two extra straps." Thought about that. Made him what I intended to be my final offer of 4.45 plus he'd throw in the two extra leather straps. I could see him begin to yield. "Okay, you got it, Sir, 4.45 takes it all." I had fifty five cents to return to Jack plus I got more than I was supposed to get. Time to go back and see what everyone thought.

Ham was dancing with glee. Couldn't wait to show everyone how he now looked, the new Ham. Dad was probably the most pleased, shook Jack's hand, hugged me but what I noticed was that Jack was laying on a table, not wearing pants. I went over to see what was going on and there on his butt cheek was at tattoo of two playing cards, Hearts, an Ace and a Deuce but worked together in a really great design.

"Like it? I told your Dad and he suggested this, did the design, you can see the results." I almost reached out to touch it, like it was the first tattoo I'd ever seen. "It's...wonderful...Dad?" He looked at me. "Am I too young, you know, you always said I had to be old enough..."

"If you do a man's work you're old enough. Sides, Jack and I planned on seeing you got your ink when I finished his. Proud day when a man gives his son his first tat...'n son, Jack's told me how good you're doing so yep, you get your ink. But....only this one. Jack want's more, 'n we talked about this, that's his business but this has personal meaning and isn't some fucking flash cuz you'll never see this one again, never. I won't even put up a picture of it." He snorted then laughed, "Your uh, Uncle Jack and I think this makes us all closer. I got a fellow artist who comes in to town now and again....he'll do mine on my ass...just family."'

Dad finished Ace/Jack, put some sort of creme on it, told him to walk around for a bit, just in the shop, in his loose underwear. And then he started to work on me. Funny, in all the years Dad had been doing this, I'd never even felt the needle without ink. It was just his job and the ink that went on guys what he did. But now, as he took a razor and a little foam and shaved where the tattoo would be I felt...like a young man, a young man whose father was marking him as his own. 

Took a while but finally it was finished but the only way I could see mine was with a mirror or looking at Jack's. Hurt more than I'd thought but nothing like getting my cherry popped, this just took longer but, like getting popped, only hurt once and then I wasn't a tattoo virgin either. Dad got the guy who, barely, ran the photographic studio to come round and shoot some "family" pictures. Don't know how he felt about a pair of asses but the pay was good. On an easier note, he took some of the "family" the two brothers and the son. Jack, also had an assignment...he wanted some pictures taken of us naked, both together and separately. I could see the guy was about to refuse until Dad "remembered" some work he'd done a few months ago for some sort of gangster who wanted his woman remembered in nitrate and in the buff. He coughed, thought about it but finally agreed-the down payment of a twenty helped. Just said we'd have to do those at his studio cuz he needed special lighting. And that's where we went, Dad too. He left Ham, proud as a newly shined Stutz, setting in the chair with instructions to tell anyone who came in,  that, sorry, come back tomorrow. Pressing family business. 

I'd heard of porno pictures but now I was in them. Jack and I naked, Jack and I naked blowing each other, and, as he said, the kinky one, a son screwing his father. Plus some others of us just being natural, jerking off....Jack told the photographer this was as rush job, didn't give a diddley damn if he had to stay up all night, he wanted those delivered to us at the Palmer House Hotel before six tomorrow evening then told him what sizes to make each of them. Told him to take a full set to Dad but not to charge him. I guess we paid for what we were going to get as when he saw the C note, he guaranteed delivery. Any thing else we wanted? Ever polite, Jack thanked him, went out of the shop and, for once, found a cab. As we sped toward downtown, I had a funny feeling that it would be a long time before I saw Dad and leaned against this version of Dad. Maybe a few tears. He understood, said we'd have a good dinner, my tail was safe, and, to rest our new decoration, just have a quiet evening. Maybe he'd teach me to play poker. 

Jack decided we'd give culture a whirl so, after a late morning breakfast, he had a masseur come up, rubbed both of us, admired our father/son ink, showered together, took a nap by which time it was too late to really do much museuming so instead he took me to Marshall Field's, the store I'd heard about since, I was old enough to hear about things. We fitted right in with what he called the "Carriage Trade". Did we walk through the store or promenade watching the others watch each other. We tipped our hats, hats were tipped to us. In gents accessories, he bought each of us two pair of gloves, one for really cold weather and one tight pair of calf skin gloves that, he demonstrated, you wore one and carried the other in your gloved hand. In jewelry he bought a gold chain bracelet for himself as well as a gold gents ring for me. As we walked, he explained, these weren't really for wear but were 18kt and, in a situation, could be pawned for quite a sum of money. Personally, he said, he thought they were too flashy but wearing them wasn't the purpose. There was a gentle tone that, he said, indicated the store was closing so we found a door and walked from there to the hotel of which I was no longer in awe. 

At the reception desk there was a thick package for us, heavily sealed. "Ah, good, the contracts, we can read them on the train tomorrow."

Train?

He carried on, he'd booked at Fields, as he called it, a drawing room-no idea what that meant-on the Panama Limited to New Orleans the following day. It left Chicago at noon and, just 27 hours later pulled into New Orleans, a change of climate and a good place, he said, to do business. It was time we converted one or both of our tails into fur bearing accounts. We both laughed. 

Dinner was in the elegant dining room and, I found, maybe Kentuck didn't go down so well, but red wine did. Jack smiled, asked me to taste two others and I selected the one I preferred. Under his breath he said, "You have a good nose, this is excellent year." I figured he'd explain that later. The one thing we did that dinner was an intensive course in table manners. I'd been taught properly but eating in the cafes or, infrequently, at home with Dad, I'd gotten sloppy. As we were in a very public place he couldn't rap my knuckles but, sneaky Jack, before we'd gone down-in an elevator-he'd tied a string around my dick, threaded it through the buttons on my dress pants and, if I was on the verge of making a mistake, a sharp lank got my attention and the correction. He wasn't gentle and, given that my cock began to hurt rather quickly, I also learned very quickly.

After dinner we sat around the large area intended for guests to join each other, talk, have a coffee, some of which had alcoho, in it. We had a coffee, heavy with cream, sugar and some sort of liquor that tasted good served this way. I was limited to one, while he had two. A gentleman approached us, asked if he might sit down, of course, then began a strange sory of combination. He asked some questions that didn't seem to make much sense, then moved to asking about funds, not money, asked Jack if they might step away for a moment and, when Jack returned, he smiled and said he was going to pay for the train tickets; I was to go up to the room, listen to the radio, look out the window, go to bed and he'd wake me when he got in. All I heard the stranger say was..."Are you okay leaving your son? Does he know..." and then they were out of range. Not having been told anything I could have answered his question, yes, I knew and I was okay be left alone."

I felt Jack slide in some while after I'd gone to bed and to sleep. He smelled of alcohol, cigarettes and some sort of something I'd never smelled. What mattered was he was back and all was well. Naked, next to him, I snuggled against his chest and went back to sleep. All was well with the world, Just to assure myself, I eased my hand down and felt his balls and cock....yep, all was well.

All dressed, with our luggage, cases called them, I was really excited. I'd seen billboards advertising deluxe travel by train but never expected to be on one, particularly for over a day, sleep aboard, have meals in a car that moved...I think Jack noticed and smiled, said he remembered his first big train trip, knew we'd have a good time, the Illinois Central ran great trains and this one was the best. 

It was cold and very windy as we walked down the length of cars, finally finding ours. A black man, with a big smile, helped us off with our coats, distributed the luggage, asked if we wanted anything that wasn't in the water pitcher in our room. Jack winked, gave him five, he was very pleased, and said just anything anytime then closed the door. After our room at the Palmer House, this space seemed very small, hardly enough for two men but, as Jack explained, this was the largest space for rent on the whole train, only two or three of them and we'd been lucky to get this one on short notice but the Travel Department at Marshall Fields had influence and here we were. Also, as he began to relax, he pulled out a wad of bills which he said represented double what the train fare and the room had cost. I didn't know whether to ask him or not about what happened....but I figured all he could do was refuse to tell me so I asked. 

"That was an easy one, a straight man, that's someone who doesn't routinely sleep with men, spotted him and got up the courage if...we could go somewhere which was up to his room. He was a nice person, terrified of being caught which drove up the price, remember that, fear equals more money. Pretty usual, I made him shower with me just to check for any obvious diseases, he was so rattled he gave me his real name, and, just to put that at ease, gave him ours....." I stopped him and asked what was ours?

He burst out laughing, told me I was a smart kid, proud to almost be my father. "I looked around the room, saw something and said I was John Frame, the young man with me was my son, John the second. He relaxed, he got sucked off, I got sucked off, I fucked him, something he hadn't had happen too often and, maybe like you, only recently got his cherry popped. I had to hold myself in when he tried to fuck me, it got soft and he couldn't get it back up or in so that was that. Got dressed, took his money and, something I don't usually do, took these." He pulled a pair of cufflinks from a case. 

"You stole them? From that man? Who paid you?"

"I did and I'll tell you why. He and is very prominent family are going to friends of our should we return to Chicago. I'll write a note, cautioning him about leaving jewelry about when bringing people to his room. I'll insure the package and, in some days he'll have it back and we'll have made a friend, an important friend. Not only will he be grateful to have them back, but relieved to find the money he paid was to a good guy and, maybe in the future, there could be another good time. He's also going to be good for introductions, should we need them. Now do you understand? And, we do NOT steal, understand me? If I catch you light fingering more than a book of matches...remember the guy who cut your hair? What his ass looked like? Hate to ruin your father's good work but I would. We are whores, not thief's." I'd compressed myself into a corner on the couch, afraid of Jack. "Oh, come on son, I know you never would, you're my deuce, I'm your ace." He pulled me to him, held me in his arms and turned me to the window as the trains started to leave the station.

"I want you to see what poverty is really like, you think you have but....look out the window as we go through the slums, the South side, think about it. That's why we're working men, doesn't matter what we do." I watched and instead of it getting better as we left down town, it got worse, I turned away, didn't want to look, threw myself in his arms, he would protect me from all this. 

"Learned a lesson didn't you." I nodded my head. He pulled down the curtain then rang the button for the black man. Looking carefully at his name tag, Jack said, "I would really like something to just sip on as we ride along and my son would like..." He looked at me..." a cherry coke or a lime coke?"

"Suh, why don't I jest bring all of 'em in an ice bucket. Long ride, bet both of you'uns 'll get thirsty.:" 

I laid down on the long couch, put my head in Jack's lap and he ruffled my hair, ran his hands down my chest, opened my pants and, as soon as the black man came back and left what he'd ordered, took out my cock and slowly stroked it. Seemed only fair to do the same to him....I'd learned to feel when I was about to squirt and when he was about to squirt so there were no messes...just that good feeling of two people sort of fulfilled. My excitement turned to exhaustion and I went to sleep feeling the train pick up speed, roll a bit and move on away from Chicago.

Jack said the diner would be crammed with people for lunch so he had our porter, the black man, bring us a plate of sandwiches and two bowls of fruit. After we got past all of Chicago I saw things I'd never seen, cows, horses, lawns on homes, fields, trees, roads that weren't filled with cars, horse drawn peddlers and always, the crush of people. It was nice laying there in his lap, he occasionally stroked my hair as I gushed about what I was seeing. But it was all...wonderful. 

"Hey, how'd you like to look at our pictures?" He had my immediate attention. He'd casually thrown the envelope which was more of a package onto an overhead rack and I'd almost forgot about it. He hauled it down, got out his pen knife, slit the end, reached in and pulled out another well wrapped packet. More knife work but then the contents slid out and we were looking at ourselves as no one had ever seen us before. I'd never seen any kind of porn so seeing myself with Jack's cock up my ass, me being sucked by Jack, the two of us sucking each other, a rear view showing our matching tats....plus the regular one with my Dad, the three of us looking just like a family but the one Jack loved, was one of me, naked, sitting on folded legs, looking straight into the camera, my hand holding a hard dick with sperm drooling down the side of my hand and my leg. "Jesus have you got a reservoir or not. Only the young....." There were others, very small that were almost like a card you'd give someone or a few the size of playing cards, a couple of those had our tails with the tats. 

"Whaddaya thing? Porn King? and laughed." I had no way to tell him as the only other picture I'd ever had taken was for some school that I attended long enough to graduate from one class to the next and we all had our pictures made. It wasn't a good picture and since I was six or eight years younger, it was hard to recognize me. No one, except my father, had one. "Here, put one of our family in your billfold, oh, and here's a hundred in small  bills. Can't have my kid walking around like poor people. " He stopped looked at the pictures again, pulled a couple out, put them in his wallet and then paused. "I'm wondering if each of us should maybe have one of the dirty ones...you never know when having that sort of thing can turn a sale." He went back through and found a small version of the solo shot of me and handed it over. That ought to raise cocks and bucks." We both laughed.

It was pleasant rolling along in the comfortable room, just the two of us. I opened a door thinking it was a closet and found it was a complete bathroom, even had a shower. You could live in this place for a long time. Hoped there was another train trip but, for now, this one was as fine as it got. 

Jack read the paper while I sat transfixed by the scenery. Never seen anything like it, never.  The pictures in books....didn't make it clear what reality was like. Some towns  that we roared past seemed tired, almost dying but others were busy, seemed almost to resent the train as it crossed their paths slowing them down. We were coming into a station, no idea which one, so I could get a better view of what living in one of these places was like. Laundry hung on a line, a kid or two playing with a dog. Some parents looking tired, as if they'd just come home, others, usually men, sitting on the stoop, smoking watching the train, maybe wishing they were on it. I waved at some people but no one waved back, guess they couldn't see me or just weren't interested in some kid whom they would never know riding on a train.

Jack stretched his arms up, really big stretch, pushed his legs out in front of him, looked at his watch. "Dinner in a while. Do you want to be my son or my partner for this trip? I'd kinda like it if we were father and son, you know how proud of you I'd be."

"Got some pictures to show them why you're proud too." We both laughed. "Yeah, I want to be your son, your handsome, well mannered son. I'd like that." I threw my arms around him and climbed up on his lap. I put my hand down, found his crotch and almost...until he stopped me and said that was what beds and bed time was for. And smiled.

A man in a blue suit came by to ask what sitting we'd like for dinner. He looked at me, shrugged, told the guy we'd be in about seven. He wanted his son to see the countryside while it was still light. The man seemed pleased, gave us a ticket and said he'd look forward to seeing us. That left us almost two, two and a half hours to fill. "Growing son needs to sleep. Got to get all the parts taller and thicker." He moved to the chair in the room and I lay down on the couch. I didn't think I was tired but very soon....I was dreaming of being someplace surrounded by green grass playing with a dog. In my dream I hoped I could keep him......

Jack woke me, had me rinse my face, tossled my hair, put on what he thought a young man, his son would wear to dinner. He had on a comfortable suit, white shirt, great looking tie with stripes, the cuff links from the man in Chicago...we looked like a prosperous family, the father and the son going to New Orleans for whatever reason. 

We walked through two other cars, there were blue signs that said, if you were coming toward us, "Dining Car In Opposite Direction". Apparently we'd picked a good time. The gentleman who'd come to our room led us to a table for four already freshly set, silver, water pitcher, goblets. A waiter came along, filled the glasses, handed us menus and reminded Jack that only written orders for food could be accepted. Then asked if, perhaps, Jack might like some strong coffee. Bourbon flavored. Jack thought that he might and I got another Coca Cola. Thanks to the Palmer House, most of the things on the menu, I'd seen, not tasted but Jack had told me what they were. All I cold think about was steak, steak corn and mashed potatoes. He said that sounded good to him, like father like son and handed our order to the waiter. He asked how we'd like those steaks cooked and Jack said he'd leave it to the chef, they knew from steak to steak which was best. 

We weren't alone long, another man was seated opposite us. We all smiled, exchanged kind words, he ordered-he wanted whiskey flavored coffee-and small talk developed. We were all going to New Orleans, he commented that few passengers might get off at Memphis but mainly everyone was going to New Orleans. He was seated opposite me and was almost staring. He commented to Jack that he had a mighty fine looking son, mighty fine indeed. He had an accent I'd never heard but guessed, since we were going South, he was from the South. About two seconds later he said he was from New Orleans and had been 'up North' on a business trip. And looked at me some more then at Jack then back at me. Under the table cloth I put my hand on Jack's leg where he put his hand over mine, squeezed it which assured me. \

The various flavored coffees for the two men came along with my Coca Cola and we all had a moment of tasting what we'd been served. "Fucking glad when his prohibition nightmare is over...sorry sir, young man, I spoke too crassly." Ace looked at him, not smiling, "Don't worry, he knows lots of words, lots of words and lots of things. Some day, when he's older, there's a couple of things he'll need to be taught. I've told him, haven't I son..."

"Yes, Sir, you have Dad. When you want them done. then I'm ready to have them done. Knowing it's your pleasure, I guess I look forward to it. Any well trained son would. Don't you think so, Sir?" And looked right at him. No idea what was going on but Jack's pressing my hand as I said certains was a bit of direction. To him. "How have you trained your son, Sir?"

"I, uh, I don't have one. Wanted one but...." Jack broke the mood in a very clever way. 

"You know, guess it's taking them sometime to grill our steaks. Seems like a good moment to step out on the vestibule, have a smoke, 'cept I left them back in our room. Hardly wait to get to New Orleans and get a cartoon of Picayunes, nothing like 'em." The man held up a beige colored pack of smokes that said, "Picayune" on them. 

"I think I could use a smoke myself. Mind if I join you?" They stood up and moved away down a corridor passed what I guess was the kitchen. Some time went by and the waiter came by with a tray carrying our dinner. He looked perplexed. Looked about then put my plate, with a silver dome in front of me but took the others back. I sat there, okay, I peeked under the dome and it really looked delicious. Maybe two minutes later Jack and the man came back, he was smiling, the man less so. 

"They brought your dinners but you weren't here..." "I know son, it's okay, the waiter saw us he'll be right back. Go ahead and begin. The man spoke, smiling a bit, "In the South we say, don't let good manners spoil good food. Eat up, we'll have ours directly." And he was right, he'd barely finished speaking when plates were put in front of them and then, almost too silently, we all started to eat. 

Halfway through Jack said, "I've invited Mr. Jones here to join in our room for some friendly conversation, give us some tips on things and places in New Orleans. We'll look forward to that. "That was all the conversation the rest of the time. No one wanted dessert so bills were brought paid and we all left the dining car. 

Back in the drawing room Mr. Jones and Jack sat on the couch while I sat facing them from the chair. No idea, none except that I was sure it involved money, me and doing something with sex,. Mr. Jones hemmed and hawed, said I was a good looking young man, yessir, a very good looking young man. Jack sat there in the limited light smiling a smile I recognized; He was setting the hook in the catch of the day. 

"Son, Mr. Jones and I talked about this, briefly, and he's curious to see how I'd break you in. You know how we discussed that someday, I'd strip you then put my cock up your ass so you wouldn't be a virgin there just like I'm not an ass virgin or a cock virgin. I don't want you to be either but Mr. Jones has made, uhm, kind of an interesting offer or suggested something that certainly I hadn't thought of....he has a Stud...know what that is? A place they breed horses just outside the city and he'd like us to visit then let him watch while you're put in a breeding pen and I mount you just like a horse." I was silent. 

"Young man, it's an honor to be broken like a stud, I looked at your Dad and he's got the right stuff for it and tells me you could do this. If you want to. But...it is up to you. I know this isn't probably what you planned on but....think of it as adding something extra to something that was going to happen anyway."

"Dad? Uh, I'll do what you do to tell me to do, this isn't my decision, it's just another part of the great training you've always given me...so I guess, you have the final word. Oh, one thing, anything else the gentleman wants beyond your breeding me, fucking my virginity?"  I saw Jack quietly smile and knew, just knew, he'd negotiated a hellacious deal. 

"Mr. Jones would like to be next up, after me, while you're still bleeding. He wants to fuck you, too."

"Anything else?"

"Keep you in a stall for a little while, wear a bridle and bit, just like a real stallion. That's not too bad cuz he wants me to do the same. Two stallions one the Stud, one the colt ready to be made a stallion."

I looked at Mr. Jones. "I guess I'm too young and dumb but...I think there's something more just please Sir, tell me, if Dad says it's a go, I cannot refuse you. "

"I want to come to your stall and suck you dry before  you're mounted. Colt semen is the purest the best tasting. Don't want to waste valuable semen when you get aroused as the stallion enters you. Either I suck you, and him or....have to be a collection tube put on you, may have to do it anyway, you look fertile."

I stood up, put out my hand, "Then it's a deal. I'll go get a cola from the club car, I think I saw one as we were boarding, sit there for a bit then I'll be back. Work out all the details and I'll do what I'm ordered to do by my father and, by the way, I think this all sounds fucking great." And walked out of the room.

Sitting in the club car surrounded by people drinking all sort of different flavored coffees, I thought about what this idiot wanted. I didn't know the words but this person was just like the barber who wanted to be beaten, this guy just wanted something different. Another thing I knew, Jack would not take the deal unless the money was exactly what he asked for, he'd make conditions that would had to be met. It all sounded vaguely silly to me but if this is what did it for him, if this was what made him feel like a man, then, fuck, I could stand through all this easily. Good thing Jack had already plucked me then told me how I'd have to play a virgin again cuz that's what he planned on doing in New Orleans. The Old Virgin In A whorehouse he called it. Made me wonder, were there whorehouses that only had men in them? I'd have to ask him. Whatever else, this was going to be interesting and a fine introduction to Southern Hospitality. 

I waited almost an hour until I walked back through the cars, some of them now curtained off so people could sleep behind them. The door was swinging open and shut, open and shut and Jack was up on the couch, big smile, I mean huge smile on his face. He was sitting sideways, had me sit down, lean against his legs, reached forward and started to rub my shoulders. "Well?" It seemed the only question to ask. 

"Oh Jesus, he's so into all this horse crap, he sees you, me as a pair of horses whom he's gonna breed on his plantation or Stud or whatever it is. Jesus, I sat here and watched him come in his pants the more excited he got, the more things he thought up and I just let him do it cuz every time he added something, I just turned the crank on the cash register. Fuck, Deuce, he's over eight thousand dollars and he'll pay in advance or they'll be no breeding stock in his corrals. Maybe, when we get there, you can find some special service that he'll pay more for but, Jesus, Eight grand, for a couple of days work...and we don't get fed hay." He dissolved into laughter. 

New Orleans was not a city as I understood cities but then I only had Chicago as my comparison. The heat, the humidity, the slow walking people, the accent, everyone ending every statement as if it were a question....and the food, about which I'd heard so much, did little for me save give me gas. "Mr. Jones" had billeted us at the Hotel Pontchartrain while he readied for the breeding so we had some time to wander around, see the sights one is supposed to see, ate at a couple of restaurants, mediocre regardless of reputation and, as I said to Jack, if I see another bowl of Gumbo, I'm going to puke; No romance with Okra in me. 

Jones called, said he'd send a car for us and he hoped we'd enjoy the drive out. Why wouldn't we? Well, why we wouldn't was because he'd sent a double horse trailer as our mode of transportation. Some place discreet, away from the hotel and prying eyes, we were asked to strip, step in the back, face backwards, accept a bridle which was attached to the walls with leather straps. Our hands were put in more leather bindings and similarly attached to the wall. Blinders wer the last thing but at least we could see straight back and talk. I went first. "You have any idea that this was in our future? I'm guessing not."

"Deuce, I'm truly sorry, I knew he was bent but this....is a lot further than I realized. Of course he'll pay for this, this hay ride. And he damn well better have all the cash to be counted and sealed then courierd back to the hotel. I neglected to tell him there'd be some one there to take the cash and get out of Dodge before we do one fucking thing."

"Look on the bright side, it may be fun, something neither of us have ever done, a new arrow for our bow, and....all that money." On that thought we rolled through mist and weird hanging stuff that looked like dead Christmas tree tinsel.

We backed into a round area by a barn and, of course, our host. He was the one who let us loose, had grooms bring liniment to help us get our limbs moving again, said he'd have us bathed....but Dad stopped him. "That horse carriage thing wasn't in the bargain and was hardly fun, however much reality it added, my son has agreed to a lot and that wasn't one of them. Before we go one furlong farther, we want some clothes, sit down with you and settle up, in full all that has been promised. Now. " Mr. Jones looked slightly hurt, as if one of his herd was pissed off and wouldn't perform before services were paid for. In his horsey world, apparently, you got paid only after and if you ran the race. "In short, naked or not, my son and I are going to sit here, enjoy the sun and wait for you to return with the cash agreed to. In writing I might add, a document that lives in the hotel safe. 

About then an officious looking vehicle drove into what Jones called the Paddock. On the side was written in large, capital letters, Bonded Courier Service. All that was needed was for there to be something to courier. Eventually he returned with a thick envelope that contained eighty one hundred dollar bills. "And another grand for the indignity of the ride out which will also pay for the service." IF he wanted what he so desperately seemed to, there was no choice. He reached in his pocket and fished out ten more hundreds. All the cash was but in a locked courier bag, Jack signed, verifying the instructions as to where it went, they went away and now it was time to play horsey. 

"The lights better in the afternoon so I thought that'd be a good time. Lets get you to your stalls, some things there, like you agreed." I wasn't too sure of all that Jack had agreed to but with nine grand on its way to our eventual home in New Orleans, he wasn't going to bounce too high if Jones fudged some of the rules. "First thing, gee I wish you and him were cut, those foreskins don't photograph too well. Oh well, can't be helped. A guy came in with a bucket, some water and a long extension cord that lead to a set of clippers. I was pretty sure I was about to look younger in the crotch....as it was all shaved off. Jack, to his unpleasant surprise got the same. Our cocks were washed and, this I didn't know about, a plaster cast was made of both our dicks. I assume Mr. Jones would either have them as bronze statuary or, smoothed down, by his bed ready to remember the occasion.

Everyone went away for a time. Jack and I went to the fence that divided us, leaned on it and laughed. "Son, are you ready for this? I don't know what that fool may try but I just remembered I need to teach you to fight dirty....." "No need to, Joe, Ham and my Dad did that." 

"Damn, I like your father more each day. He's just filled you up with stuff you would otherwise have to be taught."

"What did he mean about being 'cut'?" 

"It's kinda new, but see that flesh that hangs over your cock head? At birth a lot of parents are having their kids circumcised which is what he means by cut. While we're waiting to let the fur grow back, mightn't be an all bad idea to get it done. I've already had a couple of requests and, between us, I think it makes for a cleaner smelling cock and we are definitely in the cleaner smelling cock trade. Cept for today when we're in the Stud farm trade." He looked around." I'll say this, it's all clean and, frankly, it's not the weirdest thing I've done but for sheer size of performance, this takes it. One whole fucking barn just to get a horse knocked up or, in your case, get your ass popped. Sure am glad we already did that...you know what to do, don't you, that is , after I've mounted you. 

"Yeah but what about him? Can I buck and kick him in the nuts? If he wants to play pony, then I say, lets play pony."\

"My guess is he's not much of a fuck, guys who get into this kind of fetish are all about the way it looks, how they've inserted themselves in it. Watching others is the bigger thrill cuz he really believes you're a colt and I'm a stallion....not that there's anything wrong with being a stallion." Then laughed. 

Around noon some black person brought us a tray with people food and just shook their head at all this saying, "Don't worry, he's not dangerous but just so you know, if he even gets close to going too far, theys men around to get him off and away. Gotta say, he's really worked up about you two,  a real father and son....usually he has to hire two guys and that hasn't always worked out. One thing you could do for all of us, do as much of what he asks as you can. Sometimes when men get nasty, he gets nastier with us." The man turned, pulled up his shirt and the deep whip marks were plainly obvious. "That's why theys men ready to stop him, whatever he's doing. Under that thing that looks like a sugar bowl, they's some pain pills. Doc said to take 'em iffen you was afraid of pain." He hurried away before we could ask anything more. Lunch was good. One thing about the South I knew I would never like; Iced tea that was so sweet, it almost rotted my teeth just to look at it.  Following our meal, we both lay down in the very clean hay and first rested then went to sleep. 

Next thing was Mr. Jones leering over the tops of the stables, ready to get started which meant getting me up and ready. It was more complicated than just your average fuck. Remember, I'm a virgin so extra measures are taken to see I'm well greased. A bridle goes in with leads on both sides and I'm urged toward some sort of device that looks like a saddle with a large section taken out of the middle. I wasn't keen on this so probably added to his pleasure by not being wholly cooperative. As we got closer I could see there were several tie downs, meant for me, to, I assumed, keep me steady when the stallion, Dad/Jack/Ace was lead in to breed me or, in this case turn me out of being a virgin by fucking me. Finally got me in, tied down-it wasn't too uncomfortable-and then they brought up the stallion. What I heard was....

"Motherfucking cocksuckers you are not going to shove that up my cock or my ass:" There was the sound of a scuffle then silence then more scuffle then Dad was dragged in, his poker like cock was introduced to my ass and....something wasn't right. Didn't feel right. But that wasn't all, underneath me, a tube was attached to my cock and the sucking began. Dad backed out, more fight, this time when he came back and was forced on top of me, it felt more like his cock. I saw, with limited vision, Jones and cameras and lights running around. He was standing on the wooden sides of this contraption and then he laid the whip on Dad's Ass, and that was a big mistake.

The End Of Part Two

You may ask..."PJ, did you ever sell your ass for money and I would have to answer that, yep, once to my cousin who paid me rather a lot of money and got, just as Jack would have liked, less than he paid. Did I know men who plied this trade? Absolutely, and damn fine friends they were. The opening at the revival show is a bit of Carson and Barnes Circus which, I feel certain, no longer exists. However this sort of program wandered all over the place and, once, returning from the airport, my mother spotted my sister's car near this place. Our chauffeur brought her back-where her car went....? She made fifty bucks which for a young girl, a lot younger than they suspected, did quite nicely for one evening. 

The descriptions of the streets, the arcade are all available at the Museum of the City of Chicago as is the train they took to New Orleans. It's hard to imagine the degradation many, many people lived through but it's real and was grinding.  

What happens in the third episode? Quite a lot. I'm in surgical intensive care just now fully expecting to recover, it's just a matter of being able to pee and pass gas. I'm very hopeful. And for those who get off on being catheterized, write me privately and tell me what you find in it.

Regards, 

PJ