Taylor’s Story
Craig and Colton’s wedding was pretty cool, the candle factory looked awesome, and all the villagers were there. I got a lot of unwanted attention that night because I came alone. Noah and I had been together for a while, but we recently broke up and none of the guys really knew about it until that night. Noah was an awesome guy, but I just wanted some space. In all honesty, I loved Noah, but he was so ready to settle down, get married, and start a family… that was his dream, and he deserved it. It just wasn’t my dream… at least not yet, and I may never get there. So, I went to the wedding stag… it felt good just to kick back and talk to everyone, have a few drinks, and eat (goddamn Colton outdid himself with the food, that guy could cook). I made the rounds and talked to everyone. Seth cornered me and tried to give me an impromptu counselling session, but I shut him down, I was really alright with it all and just wanted to enjoy the party.
I came to The Village a few years ago, my story is a little different from all the other guys.
I had a shitty childhood, and it basically ended when I was eleven. My dad was a violent drunk, and one night when I was eleven years old, he came home drunk and ready to fight… as usual. My mother led a miserable existence and finally had had enough of the abuse. Our bags were already packed when dad got home, and she told him we were leaving. They got into a fight, a huge fucking fight, the worse fight ever (and some of their fights were epic). After a lot of yelling and screaming, my mom called him a ‘useless fucking drunk’ and turned to walk out the door with me right behind her. He went into a fit of rage… I mean an insane rage! I had seen him mad before but not like that (he was always mad. He was a miserable human being). He looked around and grabbed a full bottle of whiskey he spotted sitting among the empties. He wielded it above his head then brought it down hard on the back of her skull. I was in shock and not sure what was happening, but I knew I had to save my mom. I made my way towards her, but he threw me hard against the wall. I got up and started to stumble towards my mother again, but he grabbed me and threw me against the wall a second time knocking me out. While I was out, he hit her in the skull several more times with the whiskey bottle, bludgeoning her to death. She bled out while I lay unconscious Just a few feet away from her. When I woke up in the hospital, my mother was dead, and my father was gone; he had fled and was at large. I can’t describe the horror of watching my father kill my mother, and frankly I don’t want to… I relive it in my head every fucking day as it is.
The next couple of years were a blur, after a lengthy manhunt, they caught my dad and sentenced him to life in prison, the trial was very public and I was a pariah… I was the kid whose dad murdered his mom with a whiskey bottle. My grandmother took me in even though the poor woman was a mess after all that had happened. Long story short, she couldn’t accept the murder of her only child and eventually lost touch with reality and died of a ‘self-inflicted coma.’ In other words, she killed herself with liquor and pills. I was the lucky one who came home from school to find her dead. So, there I was, thirteen, completely alone, in foster care, and traumatized beyond description. I was a miserable kid, I hated everyone and everything, and everyone and everything seemed to hate me back. I was shuffled from foster home to foster home until I aged out at eighteen… nobody wanted me.
The day I turned eighteen I was on my own and ill-prepared to handle life. With just a few weeks left before high school graduation, I decided to just disappear and start over. I was a shitty student and it was questionable if I was going to graduate anyway so I felt I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I left the Philadelphia burbs and went to Atlantic City where no one knew me or my past. I was homeless, hustling, and turning tricks for cash. You’d be amazed at how many guys there are on the DL willing to pay big money to fuck a cute twink. My looks served me well… with longish sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and a scruffy starter-beard I had been compared to a young Jesus more than once. My body was naturally toned and dusted with hair to match the color of my mane. I found a safe place between hotels to sleep at night, figured out how to sneak into the gym of one of the local hotels to work out and shower, and once in a while I could sneak into a free breakfast buffet. I was surviving and doing okay… until I wasn’t. I hooked up with the wrong trick.
I met this guy on the beach, it was a typical hookup scenario for me. I was lying on the beach and the 40-ish year old guy sat next to me and struck up a conversation. The conversation turned more suggestive and eventually he told me what he wanted, we agreed on a price and ended up in his hotel room. I took a shower, then we got down to business. From the beginning the guy was rough… I was used to that, but this guy wouldn’t stop. I’ll spare you the gory details, but he raped me. He raped me hard, and he raped me brutally. I may have consented to sex, but this wasn’t sex. It was rape. Period. Sex was consensual and pleasurable; this was just a painful outlet for some stranger’s sadism. I was strong, but he was stronger, he basically beat me as he fucked my ass and tore up my hole. When he was done, he literally kicked me out into the hallway with his foot. I was naked, bruised, battered, and bloody when my clothes came flying out of the room and the door slammed shut. I pounded on the door begging him give me my backpack, instead, he called security. I have no idea what he told them but they didn’t give a fuck about my side of the story and escorted me out a remote exit and threw me into an alley. Everything I had was in my backpack, including about $700 in cash, and it was all gone. I stood there in that alley with nothing but the clothes on my back, I didn’t even have shoes. My wallet with my driver’s license and about eight bucks’ cash was still in my pocket (thank god), but that was it… the rest was gone. No one in that hotel would listen to a bloodied little street urchin like me, besides I didn’t even know the guy’s name, or what floor the guy was on, much less the room number. Defeated, I found a dumpster a few feet away, curled up in a ball behind it, and cried myself to sleep.
A cop found me in the middle of the night and woke me up. When he saw my battered face and the dried blood on my dirty clothes, he took me to the local hospital. He believed my story and followed up with the hotel, but his surface investigation hit nothing but dead ends. One of the male nurses at the hospital was empathetic. He took special care of me while I was there and talked to me a lot. He asked a lot of personal questions, I was guarded with my answers at first, but eventually broke into tears and told him enough for him to surmise I was gay, homeless, tricking, and had literally nothing and nobody. He made sure I was able to spend a couple of nights in the safety of the hospital. On my last morning there a social worker came by my room. I don’t know all the intricate details, but calls were made and the social worker somehow connected me with The Village. After I was cleaned up, the social worker brought me some clean clothes and drove me to North Carolina where I’d be safe. The Village set me up with sponsors who fed me, put a roof over my head, and helped me find me a job. For the first fucking time in my life, I had hope for a future. Finally.
I never thought I deserved the miserable life I got and decided to get the life I thought I deserved.
The Village helped me do that, and I did not make it easy on them. I was one of the first people to move into Harrington House, and the very first to get kicked out. Life was going good for me, but I threw a wrench into shit, as I’ve been known to do. I decided to move my great life along faster by making some money on the side by tricking. The Village caught me (that’s a whole other story) and Seth was worried that I’d bring guys back to my Harrington House and put the other villagers in danger… so, like I said, I became the first villager to be kicked out of Harrington House. But even after what I had done, they didn’t abandon me, they helped me. Seth helped me get an even better job so I could afford to live on my own, and helped me find a great apartment. To this day we meet for sessions and he guides me… Seth is good people. I finally had the life I thought I deserved, and it was good.
Now, here we are a few years later, I make great money selling cars (top sales guys an uncountable number of months in a row), I have a great apartment, and I’ve been giving back to The Village by paying it forward. I started the ‘Vehicles For Villagers’ program (which we all call ‘Cars For Queers’). I got a bunch of local car dealers to donate trade ins that they can’t make money on, and Daddy James (Max, the guy that started The Village... that’s his father in law) gets the Villagers together to fix them up. Some go to Villagers who need a car, others get sold and the proceeds go back to The Village… I’m really proud of that program, it feels good to give back. Anyway… Life was going great, I even had Noah, a sweet guy ready to be Mr. and Mr. Me., I just wasn’t ready for that.
Truth be told, life was a little too perfect. I was happy to have a home, and not to have to fuck anybody willing to pay just to survive… but that existence wasn’t all bad. I missed the thrill of guys hitting on me, wanting me, and yes… offering me money for sex. Maybe I overcorrected a little going from street urchin to model citizen and part of a perfect couple. I missed the thrill of the chase. So, I decided to stir shit up a little. I took a massage course at night, bought a nice, portable table, then took out ads on a few websites looking for clients to legitimize things. One thing I should tell you about myself, I’m great at finding ways around the rules and exploiting loopholes. Selling sex was illegal. Selling massages was not. What happens between two consenting adults is between them, and if no money exchanges hands until after the fact… well nothing illegal happened. Right? So, yeah, fine. In simple terms I was tricking again, but it was so much different this time. This wasn’t out of desperation for survival; this was out of desire to thrive and feel alive. I had just started about a month ago and already had several thousand in a lock box in my apartment. Seth had said something to me in one of our sessions that hit home with me, he suggested that I liked being desired because I spent so many years feeling unwanted by anyone… I think he was right. I needed to be wanted, desired. Yes, Noah wanted me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed regular adorations and the chase, I thrived on the first meeting when a guy opens the door, sees mee and smiles… typically they would mutter a ‘damn, you’re hot’ or something like that under their breath. That fucking fueled me. It gave me strength. I needed it… I needed to be desired. So, that’s me, Taylor.
I was at the reception having a good time catching up with everyone. Colton and Craig were talking to a bunch of us Villagers, we were all laughing and having a great time. Asher was sitting at the tall table with us and kept staring at me. Asher was a former villager; we had met several times, they were cute, and very slight. The thing about Asher is he’s painfully shy and couldn’t stop staring at me (I was loving it). Whenever my eyes caught his he would turn bright red and wilt… he was fun to tease. He was wearing makeup that night… I was impressed! That took some guts in the south, he even got up the courage to say hello.
“Hi Asher” I said boisterously putting all the attention on him. “You look amazing.” His face turned red as a baboon’s ass and he almost withered away to nothing… like I said, he was fun to tease.
He was there with Trevor (who I didn’t really know), and this Hispanic guy, Ricky, who was hot as hell and… well, blind. I had no idea what the dynamic was between the three of them (but who the fuck cared, they all seemed happy). Okay, I have to admit, while it was fun teasing Ash, and watching Trevor drool over me… it was strange being there with Ricky. He was blind, my looks were my super power and they were useless here. I had to rely on my other charms… it worked a little bit, but he was so into Asher that he didn’t really give a shit about me. But before I could even pick up the challenge and pull out the big guns to impress him, I got a text.
It was a client. The guy was mid-thirties, married, closeted, and hot as hell. I had met up with him twice before, he was quickly becoming a regular. His wife was out of town and he wanted me to come over… right then. I abruptly wrapped up my conversations and headed out the door to meet my client. On the way out, Seth put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Be safe, okay?” Seth was no fool, I’m pretty sure he knew exactly what I was doing. Seth always tried to guide me in the right direction, but never told me how to live my life. He was always supportive, but he also worried about me, I just nodded and left.
I jumped in the car and made my way to Lance’s place. I parked my sweet Audi RS 3 with dealer plates around the corner so the neighbors couldn’t see, and walked up to Lance’s front door lugging my massage table. FYI, t’s not easy to be inconspicuous when you’re walking down the street after midnight carrying a massage table. Some guys were fine getting their massage on the bed, other’s wanted the table… Lance liked the table because in his mind he could justify that it was just a massage, nothing more… and that’s technically not cheating on his wife. To each his own. He opened the door and growled breathily, “Damn, you look hot. You didn’t need to dress up for me” as he ushered me into the house before the neighbors saw.
“I was just leaving a friend’s wedding when you texted. But I’m glad it works for you” I said with an endearing chuckle.
“Yes, it fucking does” he said as used my tie to pull my lips to his and kiss me tenderly. “You ready for Lance in your pants?” He chuckled (that’s a North Carolina thing… I didn’t get it the first time he said it, but I looked it up). Lance was the perfect client; hot, fun in bed, and when we were done, he went back to his wife… no complications. Oh, and he always tipped big.
He led me up to the master bedroom where the candles were already flickering and the music softly playing. I could smell the fresh remains of his shower wafting from the master bathroom as I set up my massage table. We’d had a few sessions before and I knew what he liked; romance, touch, and intimacy… things I assumed his wife wasn’t giving him. Without a word he stripped naked and got on the table. I stripped down to my black, silk briefs. The candlelight reflected off the light blond fuzz dusting his hard bubble butt. I pulled a bottle of massage oil out of my little man bag (I always kept it in my car just in case). Standing at his side, I drizzled some on his back, “oooo that’s cold” he whispered as his body tensed up a little.
“It’s okay, I got you” I whispered back with a chuckle as I put my warm hands on the small of his back and started massaging the eucalyptus/spearmint oil into his soft skin. My hands glided from his lower back to his shoulders and back again several times as he cooed with relaxed pleasure. I moved to his other side and repeated my actions. Then I stood at the head of the table, first I massaged his tense shoulders, Lance moaned with pleasure. Then I moved my hands from his shoulders down his back to his supple ass mounds several times. Each long stroked moved a little more over his ass until I’d covered it completely with oil. My silk covered cock pulsed and grew as it pushed into the top of his head. My strokes were going from shoulders to taint and back again, gently grazing his hole each time. He whimpered a little at my touch, he pushed his ass in the air and his head against my crotch, I knew what he wanted. He lifted his head enough to kiss the front of my undies, I pulled them down a little letting my hardness spring free and smack him in the face. His hands grabbed my ass as his tongue licked up and down the taut skin of my pole. He took me in his mouth, he wanted to suck me off bad, so I let him. I let him have a few minutes of fellatio before I pulled the black silk cloth over myself. I was just getting started with my massage tease.
I moved to the bottom of the table, taking his toes in my mouth (he fucking loved that) as I massaged each foot. With a hand on each leg, I worked my way up. My fingertips tickled his ample nuts as I tended to his inner thighs, then I moved swiftly over his shimmering ass globes and made sure to tease his little pink pucker each time I passed by. His pleasure-filled moans haunted the air. I did that. I made him moan. I loved giving guys pleasure; it fueled me and was the reason I did what I did. I couldn’t get this high from a stable relationship and family life…. Could I? Well, it didn’t matter because I’d made my choice… at least for now.
My massage turned into some heavy ass play (which I knew Lance loved), I inserted a finger into his tight, neglected pucker. He whimpered, “more please, daddy” that put an evil grin on my face and stirred my dominance… my finger went in past the second knuckle and all the way to the base of my hand, then I explored. Slowly moving my finger around inside of him as I listened to Lance to learn what was working… then I hit it and I hit it hard. His prostate. He let out an animalistic groan from deep inside, I kept working it, driving him mad with passion. He was grunting, groaning, and shoving his ass up towards me trying to get more. I wiggled my finger over the temperamental gland as he wept in pleasure, my cock responded nicely by springing to full attention. With one hand busy in his ass, I dropped my silk briefs with the other then jumped up on the table. I straddled his body and brought my pelvis up to his ass and slapped him with my throbbing massage wand. “Fuck yes, daddy” he muttered in desperation… he fucking wanted me bad. I could have shoved my cock into his hole right then and there, but I was a glutton for desire and needed to be wanted so I continue to tease.
“You want that don’t you?” I asked in a whisper as I slid my member up and down his oily crack. “You want this slab of man meat in your tight little manhole, don’t you?” I asked as I teased the hole with my cockhead. I was trying to reach a balance of tender romance and raw lust… I succeeded.
“Yes. Yes Please” he begged as he wriggled his ass and pushed it upward. I answered him with a smack to his ass cheek and kept teasing him before telling him to flip over onto his back. He rolled over and his concrete pillar took center stage. I leaned in and gave it a lick, I spent just about a minute lapping and sucking it before crawling up on the table and pushing his knees to his chest. “Yes. Fuck me, daddy” he begged. “Please fuck me” his breathing was staggered and his pleas desperate.
I lined my hard cock up with his oil ladened hole and asked, “is this what you want?”
“Yes, daddy” he whimpered with his eyes locked to mine.
“Do you need it?”
“Yes, daddy. Desperately. I fucking need you in me now.” I loved it when they begged. With my chest puffed and my manhood swollen I pushed my way in making him wail in pleasure. Holy shit he was tight! I mean like a fucking vice! (and before you attack me for going bareback, I was on PrEP and had discussed this with Lance before. I used a condom our first time, then he showed me his test, proclaimed he was on PrEP and begged me to raw dog him. Yes. I was careful with other clients, but we had a history). I moved in and out of him slowly at first, mostly to get him to beg for more… it worked. “C’mon, fuck me hard. HARDER!” He begged and I complied. I fucked the shit outta this guy until I shot inside him. When I pulled out, my load slipped out of his now gaping hole. “Bring it here” he barked. Lance liked to suck my cock after it had been in his hole… it kinda was his thing. I finished the massage by giving him a blow job and letting his ample load fly onto his chest. I finished the massage with a few light strokes, then went to the bathroom to wipe myself off and get him a towel.
I was packing up and getting ready to go when Lance asked me to spend the night. Then he said the three magic words “I’ll pay you.”
I spent the night, then left in the morning with almost a thousand bucks in my pocket. I guess technically it was the walk of shame, but I wasn’t ashamed. I was proud that I took something that had been a horrible part of my life and turned it into satisfaction… and yes, strength. Things were different now. I was in control.
To be continued…
Author’s note: Welcome to ‘Villagers.’ Each chapter will be told from the viewpoint of one of the many characters that have emerged over a span of over 380+ chapters. You don’t have to have read the other chapters to jump into the story (but if you want to, go for it).
Taylor’s full story can be found in Chapter 4 of The Village.
