Date: Wed, 19 Apr 2006 12:42:14 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nathan Marks <nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James Chapter 12

New email address nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk

Please note that email addresses listed previously are no longer active
and I no longer use the groups mentioned there. My stories are now
archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/.

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive,
if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal
in your country, please do not read any further.

My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but
they are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters
to real people are not intended.

This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied,
printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private
enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written
consent of the author, me!

I hope you enjoy this story.


James: Chapter 12


He woke frequently, either because he was cold and damp, or because he was
stiff. The sounds of early morning took time to filter all the way back to
his hidey-hole. When he finally ventured out, it was fully light and there
were people hurrying by in both directions. He wandered down towards
Shaftsbury Avenue, but turned right onto Old Compton Street, drawn by the
smell of food. Just around the corner was a bakers and sandwich shop. As he
entered, he was overwhelmed by the smell of warm pasties and pies. James
pondered over the trays of baked goods, racked on shelves in a glass
counter. He chose a huge hot sausage roll and a can of coke to wash it down
and made his way quickly back out onto the street. The can stuffed into one
the pockets in his jeans; he turned back the top of the white paper bag to
reveal the end of his breakfast. He nibbled on the pastry. It was hot, but
he kept on nibbling anyway. He took a bite of the sausage filling and burnt
the roof of his mouth, quickly opening it wide to let the cold air in. He
wrapped the sausage roll up again and took out the coke. He opened it too
quickly and it frothed out of the hole and over his fingers. He stepped
back so it wouldn't splash him, and then leaned forwards to take a
swig. After the first swig, he gulped a couple of mouthfuls, hoping that it
would ease the burning in the roof of his mouth. He swallowed too quickly
and made himself choke. Once he had stopped spluttering, he walked back
round the corner and found a doorstep to sit on. He took another mouthful
of coke and then unwrapped the sausage roll from its now greasy bag. He
nibbled the pastry round the sausage until he thought it was cold enough to
eat that too. Intermittently swigging his coke, he watched the cars, bikes
and pedestrians rushing by. They all seemed so busy, with somewhere to go
and something to do. Here he was with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

The child sat for awhile watching the world go by, once again trying to
understand why all this had happened to him. Why had his mother had to die?
Why had they just dumped him in an unfriendly children's home? What had he
ran? Would it have been better to stay there? Why had he let Tom do those
things to him? Why had he enjoyed it so much? Was he gay? Was he some kind
of pervert, like Tom? What should he do now? Where should he go? Were all
men like Tom? Should he go back to the children's home? Could he even
remember his way back? What else could he do? Were the police looking for
him? Did anybody care what happened to him? Why did it feel so good when
Tom did those things to him? Why is it all so confusing? Why is life so
unfair? Would it be better to just die?

The questions were many and just kept coming, piling up, one after the
other, unanswered. Water glazed his eyes as he realised just how helpless
and hopeless his situation was. Without help from adults it was unlikely he
could survive. Some adults would put him in a children's home, others would
want to use him like Tom. Was there really no other option? A tear trickled
down his cheek and fell onto the back of his hand. In what seemed like a
surreal moment frozen in time, he felt the tear land and spread, making a
small mirror on the soft flesh between his finger and thumb. As he gazed
into it, for the briefest of moments he could have sworn that he saw his
mother's smile. No sound penetrated his moment, nothing else was visible,
just his mother's smile and only for a fraction of a second that lasted a
lifetime. Silence, a single heartbeat... an eternity. Suddenly the screech
of a taxi's brakes broke the spell and reality crowded back in n him. He
felt warmer, safer and bolder. He had no more answers, but he was not
alone. Wherever his mother was now, she was watching him, close to him. He
felt it. That briefest of moments had allowed a glimpse of her, so she
couldn't be that far away. Perhaps she could help him, perhaps she
couldn't, but she was there, and that knowledge alone revitalised him. He
crumpled the greasy paper and tossed it into the corner of the doorway,
finished his coke and defiantly threw that down too. He walked boldly out
into the day, Monday.

Even after the rush hour, Central London remained busy. What was it: eleven
million people, or something like that? He couldn't remember exactly, but
he remembered enough from his geography lessons about the capital to know
that Greater London was huge and he only knew a few small areas of
it. London City its self was the smallest city in the world at only one
square mile. That was the financial centre of Europe, followed by
Frankfurt, Zurich and Geneva. Oh yes, and Edinburgh in Scotland. Few people
knew, according to his geography teacher, who was himself from Scotland,
that Edinburgh was a major financial centre too and that as much money went
through there in a day as went through Zurich or Geneva. London City was
all banks and offices now. No one lived there anymore. Had he ever been
into London City? He couldn't remember. He guessed he must have, or at
least been through it. Most people, especially tourists, didn't realise the
difference between Greater London and London City. It would be like saying
that Manhattan and New York were exactly the same. Some people didn't even
know that Westminster, where the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace
were was a completely different city, the City of Westminster. He
remembered passing the Houses of Parliament a few times with his mum. They
had been to the Natural History Museum together and that was somewhere over
there too. That was it.

Now he had a target, and goal for the day: find the Natural History
Museum. He knew it was west of the Houses of Parliament and that they were
west of him now. So which way was west? Back towards Trafalgar Square, he
guessed, or perhaps he'd be better walking back down Shaftsbury Avenue to
Piccadilly Circus and looking the tourist map he'd seen there the day
before. It took him longer than he remembered it taking, to reach
Piccadilly. He crossed over and walked up to the tourist map. The museum
was on Cromwell Road in Kensington. He remembered going round Hyde Park and
Harrods department store in Knightsbridge. It looked a long way on the map
and it had just taken him ages to walk this far. He looked at the map of
Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. They'd had a picnic there before they
went round the museum. He remembered the lake, The Serpentine, and walking
down one side of the Royal Albert Hall, a huge, round, old concert venue
were they held the Proms every year. He'd been in there once too. He
couldn't remember what the event had been, but he remembered being in one
of the boxes that lined the walls, watching some show with his mum when he
was little. So many memories of his mum. But is seemed so far on the
map. Was it worth it? He wasn't sure he wanted to walk that far today and
he was getting hungry again. It must be getting close to lunchtime.

He sat on the steps and pulled out the little change he had left. There was
enough for perhaps a couple of MacDonald's burgers, one today and maybe one
tomorrow. What would he do then? He walked back up to the restaurant and
bought himself a cheeseburger. He made his way downstairs and to the same
table he had occupied the previous day. It must have only been two or three
hours since his breakfast of a sausage roll and coke, but he was starving
already. He opened the heeseburger and took a big bite. It tasted great. He
loved the type of cheese they used. Once he had devoured the rest of it, he
took out his remaining coins and spread them on the table in front of him:
just enough for another burger. He was still hungry, but that would be
stupid. Better to save it for tomorrow. But what about after that? He felt
a deep panic starting in his stomach. His brow furrowed and his fists
clenched.

Across the isle, on the table next to the door that led to the customer
toilets, sat a well dressed man in his late 50s. He had just eaten a
cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake. He frequently came in here, either
after work, or sometimes during his lunch break and sat there. Piccadilly
Circus and this bottom end of Shaftsbury was heaven for men like
him. Usually the boys that stood around the statue of Eros or sat for hours
at the bus stop at the bottom of Shaftsbury Avenue were in their mid teens,
14 up, or even in their early twenties. Rarely did he see a rentboy of
about 12 or 13, but when he did, he always made for them. They were more of
a risk, but that only made it more exciting. He had been doing this for
more than twenty years and had been arrested twice and even charged once,
but when the rentboy failed to turn up at court, he got off with a
warning. He never took anyone home, just did what he wanted here, in the
MacDonald's restroom a couple of times a week. He went to other places at
other times, as it didn't pay to become to familiar at one place, or you
could end up getting thrown out. Fortunately for him, the staff here
changed on an almost weekly basis. He'd had a few of them too, but had
stopped targeting them when he almost got himself into another mess.

This boy was obviously about 12. He was also, obviously alone and, the man
was almost sure, the same boy he had seen alone here the day before. He
watched the boy devour the burger, waiting for a parent or someone to
arrive. No friends, no parents, no one came. This boy was young and alone
and, then, joy of joys; the boy had almost no money. He watched as James
counted and recounted the few coins in front of him. He looked at the boy's
dirty hands and face. The clothes were pretty clean, but this could be a
new street kid. Probably dosing down at a friends or in some squat. The boy
seemed upset by his lack of funds. Well, I can help with that, if he'll let
me. The man sat planning his approach, how he would introduce himself, get
talking and then... He leaned across the isle and almost whispered, "That
doesn't look like enough. Can I help and buy you another burger?" Now, if
this kid had no idea, he would refuse any offer from a strange old man and
scarper, but if he were available, this offer would be accepted.

James looked at the man who had just spoken to him. He had a dark grey suit
and red tie on. The man's hair was grey, peppered with black flecks. His
face was lined, but still carried enough features to be handsome and seem
quite strong. He was smiling, but had straightened up again, no longer
leaning across the isle. He was waiting for something, for James to
answer. Why did the man speak to him? What was he offering? Another burger?
Yes James would love another burger, but his experience with Tom had made
him a little more wary.

Ok, so the boy didn't say 'yes' straight away, so he wasn't rent... yet?
But he obviously was considering it. He would have to play the boy
carefully to get what he wanted. He had had a couple of virgins give him
blowjobs before. They weren't as good technically, but the thrill of a
young beginner outweighed that by far. He stood and made his way just past
where James was sat, then turned, "I'm having another cheeseburger, what
would you like?"  Despite himself, James said, "Cheeseburger, too, please."
Then he immediately regretted it. He knew he shouldn't talk to strangers;
all those warnings at school, from his mum and the adverts on TV. But how
was he going to survive if he didn't take opportunities like this? He could
always eat and run, couldn't he. He watched as the man climbed the stairs
to the ground floor and the sales counter. Should he run before the man
came back? He couldn't decide what the best thing to do was, so he sat,
hoping something would help him make up his mind.

The man returned with two cheeseburgers and two medium cokes. "I know I
didn't ask, but I always get a dry mouth if I just eat a burger without
some kind of drink, so I hope this is Ok." He placed a burger and coke in
front of the boy and then sat down next to him. "I'm John, by the way, and
what's your name?" he smiled at the boy who was looking quite nervous and
unsure of anything at the moment.  "James," he said as he gingerly opened
up the burger on the table in front of him.  "Well, James, do you come in
here often?"  "No, this is just my second time in here."  "I didn't think
I'd seen you around before. So where are you from?" He immediately
regretted asking the seemingly innocuous question. He could see the boy had
become suddenly nervous, or, he thought, even more nervous.  "I like this
part of London. There are so many visitors and I meet so many new friends."
He continued on, trying to recover the ground he had lost. Then he launched
his gamble, "In fact, I especially like meeting new young men like
yourself, finding out what the like: football, bikes, swimming, girlfriends
and boyfriends and suchlike. Sometimes, when I find a special young man, we
even have a bit of fun together."

Just two days ago, James would have had no idea what this man was getting
at, but after his experiences with Tom, he had a fair idea. "What kind of
fun?" he said round his burger.Here it was, the negotiation: first
establishing what they were going to do and then a price.  "Well, normally,
when I meet someone for the first time we just jerk around a bit, or if we
get on, perhaps a suck." In truth, almost none of the younger boys ever
wanted to suck him or let him suck them. A quick feel, or a wank was the
most he got. If he wanted more, he usually looked for an older boy he'd
seen before. He didn't like being rejected. Well, here goes the clincher,
"and of course, I am always very generous to my young friends."

James' brow creased for a moment as he tried to work out what this man was
saying. Slowly it dawned on him that this pervert wanted a wank or a
blowjob and was offering to pay him for it. At first the thought disgusted
him, but as he chewed on his burger three thoughts fought in his
mind. First this was another pervert. Second he needed the money. Third, he
had liked being jerked off by Tom. Was it so bad? He fought back and
forward in his mind, staring at the man. Shit!  "Where?"  "I have found
that a cubicle in the toilets here will do for a few minutes."  "Here?"
James couldn't believe this man wanted to do it in the toilets, but at
least, he thought, that meant he wouldn't be going home with this man, this
pervert."What do you say?"  "How much?" James wondered how much a wank was
worth.  "Quite the little business man aren't you? Well, let's say £5.00
for a mutual wank and £10.00 if you suck it."

James thought about it, then couldn't believe he was thinking about it and
then thought about the money. He had finished his burger and slurped the
last of his coke. His inner turmoil must have shown on his face, because
the man looked a little edgy himself. Strangely, that made James feel a
little bolder, a little more in control. Slowly, he nodded his
agreement. The man smiled right across his face and flashed unnaturally
white teeth.  "Excellent. You go in first and I'll follow in a moment, just
so it doesn't look weird."  James thought this guy had it all worked out
and must have done this a lot before. He stood and edged his way around the
table. Taking a last look at the man, he turned and went through the door
to the toilets.

He walked into one of the blue cubicles and pushed the door too, without
locking it. A few moments later, moments that had each seemed like hours,
the door went again and the man appeared at the cubicle door. He came in,
closed and locked the door behind him. He reached down and fondled the boy
through his jeans, then he pulled down the zip and fondled him through his
under pants. James closed his eyes and leaned back against the
partition. Already his dick was getting hard. The man undid the boy's waist
button and pushed the jeans and pants down to his knees. He pushed the
foreskin back and revealed the head, rubbing a course thumb across the piss
slit. Then he pulled the skin over the head once again and began to
masturbate the boy. After a few minutes he undid his own fly and pulled out
his already erect penis. He was about five inches long, not as long as Tom,
but as the man's dick filled out, James could see it was a little
fatter. The man took James' hand and curled the fingers around his
penis. James knew what to do know. He began slowly moving his hand back and
forth, up and down the shaft. It firmed up still further in his hand. Each
stroke took him over what felt like ripples in the man's dick, but were
probably veins. Suddenly, James wondered why on earth he was doing
this. His hand froze and he looked past the man to the cubicle door. There
was no way out. He was trapped. Panic started to rise in his stomach and
must have shown in his eyes. When James stopped, the man looked down at him
to see why. He saw the flash of panic and had experienced this before with
first-timers. He firmed up his grip around James' hand and re-stared the
back and forth motion. He stared James straight in the eyes and started
talking softly to him, in a tone of voice you would use with a pet.

"Your good at this. You're such a handsome boy. I'm really enjoying being
here with you." He kept his tone low and even, reassuring, maintaining
constant eye contact with the boy. James seemed to relax a little and the
man risked taking his hand a way again. He reached down to the boy's
genitals again and started to pump him. The man was so turned on. This was
obviously a novice to rent but he must have had some experience with
another male. After a few moments he bent his knees and lowered his head,
letting his own dick slip out of James' hand. He kissed the end of the
boy's penis and then began sucking it gently, back and forth, right down
the shaft. The boy relaxed even further. He was obviously enjoying this
now. His little hips pushed forwards into the man's mouth. With his hands
on the boy's hips, he felt the pelvis thrust forwards, again and again. A
small shuddering sigh emitted from the boy's lips. He took the boys balls
in his hand and massaged them in rhythm. He slowly increased the pressure
around the dick and the balls and James was in heaven. The familiar bolts
of energy shooting through him overwhelmed all fear. A few more minutes and
he had his dry orgasm, still in the man's mouth. The man didn't stop, he
kept massaging and sucking. The longer he did it the more sensitive James'
dick felt, like it was beginning to burn. James was about to complain when
he orgasmed for a second time in as many minutes. This was even more
intense and he let out a yelp of pleasure mixed with pain. This time the
man let up and James couldn't believe how intense that had been. He
collapsed back against the cubicle wall and took a moment to calm down.

The man stood smiling, stoking himself and watching as James recovered his
composure. He reached forward and grasped the boy by the back of his head,
pulling him forward and down to his now fully erect penis. James twisted
his head to look up at the man. The man nodded. As he had pushed James'
face to within an inch of the engorged head, it was now obvious that he
wanted the child to blow him. James looked at the large purple head in
front of him. Why was he doing this? Did he really want this? He opened his
mouth and stretched it as far as he could, hoping it would be enough. Why?
He allowed his tongue to graze the rough surface of the dick head in his
mouth. It tasted saltier that Tom's had and it was bigger. He moved
forwards slightly and allowed his lips to form a seal and sucked. The man's
hand on the back of the boy's head now felt heavy. He was applying slight
force, not wanting to panic the child. James allowed the bulbous mass in
his mouth to slide in deeper and deeper until he gagged.  He pulled back
quickly, but the man's hand, still on the back of his head, stopped him
pulling off altogether. He slowly slid part way down the shaft again. Each
time he found he could go a little further down, but not as far as the bush
of pubic hair. Back and forth he moved his head, applying more pressure
around the man's dick. He wasn't really enjoying this, but neither was it
as gross as he thought it would be.

The man applied more pressure to the back of his head and he went down
further than he had intended. The man's dick shot along his tongue and deep
into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and again causing him to
gag. This time the man had no intention of letting go. As James pushed back
the man thrust his pelvis forward and sank still deeper. As James fought to
come up for air, the man shot load after load deep into his
throat. Although it took seconds, to James it seemed like forever and he
was suspended half in panic, half in shock. He made a fist and punched the
man's thigh. The man slowly released the pressure on the back of his head,
allowing James to slide of the shaft of his dick. James came up for air,
his mouth full of the taste of the man's cum. He felt it on the back of his
tongue and sliding down his throat. He turned and tried to spit as much as
he could into the pan of the toilet, but he had already swallowed much of
it. James was flustered, angry, upset, amazed. He wanted to shout at the
man, but dare not because of where they were and what they were doing. He
felt guilty. He had come in here knowing what this man wanted. No one would
believe him that he hadn't really wanted to go as far as this man had made
him. Still, he was alive, and hopefully, he was now going to get paid. He
looked up at him.  The man was smiling and a little red in the face. James
watched the man's chest rise and fall under his coat. The man made no
attempt to move. He stood there watching the boy and gathering himself,
still a little flushed from his orgasm. This boy was beautiful and
malleable. It was a shame he couldn't have a boy like this at home, but
that was unrealistic and would never happen. He put his hand inside his
jacket and pulled out his wallet. How little could he get away with giving
this novice? A fiver? Probably not, but certainly a tenner. He pulled out
two five pound notes and held them out to the boy.

James looked at the money and wondered why he had agreed to this, but here
and now, he realised he really needed the money, so he reached out and took
it, without a word. No thank you or small talk: a business
transaction. This was what he had heard those boys talking about. He had
done it too now. He felt somehow as if he was smaller, something less than
he had been before he came in. so was this what life would be like now. The
man pulled another smile, turned and left the cubicle. James just stood and
watched him leave. He felt like crying, but he didn't. He felt like
running, but he didn't. His brain was screaming, but he wasn't. A numbness
spread across his body, an empty feeling that was slowly consuming whoever
he had been. What would be left? He didn't know, he just knew that things
were very different now.

More to come...