Date: Sat, 31 Dec 2011 15:32:02 -0800 (PST)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: Teenaged Hustler 16

This story is fiction.  Any resemblance to actual places, persons, or
events is purely coincidental.  This story also contains explicit
homosexual activity between teens and adults.  If such offends you, or if
you are underage, please move on.


			     TEENAGED HUSTLER

			      by Macout Mann

				Chapter 16


The next twenty-four hours seemed pretty normal to both Matt and his
father.  Absolutely nothing out-of-the-ordinary happened.  To Si that was
great, since he half-expected a police car to roll to a stop in front of
the house at any time and take him into custody.  Matt had had a very
satisfying encounter with a good-looking, twenty-eight-year-old stock
broker after the interview with Baxter, and now he was looking forward to a
meeting with Spangler at the condo after office hours.

Then Si received a phone call from the detective agency.  The operative
reported that something strange was going on with the Bromfields.  Mr. and
Mrs. Bromfield headed an adult Bible Study Group.  Mrs. Baxter was a
member.  Unlike other organizations at their church, however, it was not
open to all comers.  You had to be invited to join.  Most of its members
were women, and all of the male members other than Bromfield were young
bachelors, including the group's spiritual advisor, a young assistant
pastor, Brother Michael.  The church secretary who had provided the
information thought that this was unusual, but "it was all right since
Brother Michael was involved."

It seemed also that the Bromfield children spearheaded a young peoples'
group, whose purpose was purely social.  It was also by invitation only.

Si smelled Sex with a capital S.  Matt said that he would see what he could
find out from Randy the next morning.  He told Si that it would be real
funny if Mr. Baxter was sitting on a throne of righteousness, while both
his wife and his son were wallowing in "sin."


Matt met Spangler on schedule.  As usual, they didn't spend time discussing
business, that is, except for the business at hand.  "Oh shit, Austin, you
give better head than anybody I've ever had," Matt moaned.

"And you've got a hotter dick than anybody I've ever had," Spangler
replied.

Their routine was pretty unvarying.  First suck, then fuck.  They enjoyed
each other's bodies completely.  Toward the end of the session, they
cuddled together.  Matt was sucking on Austin's teat, when Spangler spoke.
His tone was serious.

"This business with the boy and his father...it could be a big problem.
And there could be other problems like that.  I wish you would get out of
it all and go to college, like I've asked you to.  You're a smart guy,
Matt, smart and clever.  You deserve more than what you're going to get,
where you're headed."

"Funny you should say that," Matt responded.  "It was you that started this
whole fucking thing."

"I know, but I didn't feel about you, back then, the way I feel now,"
Spangler admitted.  "Then you were just a way to get satisfaction, and the
whole venture was just a way to provide boy flesh for guys that needed it.
Now...Matt, I really care about you and about your future."

"So I'm supposed to just walk out on Dad and on Jim?"

"Jobs Cheerfully Completed is a going concern, Matt.  Once this little
crisis has passed, I can introduce your dad to five or six guys that'd buy
it from him for more than he could dream it'd be worth."

"Well, I gotta admit this mess with the Baxters has got me thinking.  I
guess it's got us all thinking.  I hadn't really thought about what might
be down the road before.  Hell, a hard dick don't think anyway."

"Oh, Matt, I do love you," Spangler cried, and his lips once again embraced
the object of his desire.


Matt didn't have to look for Randy the next morning.  Randy came looking
for him.

"What the fuck did your old man tell my dad?" Randy wanted to know.

"How should I know?" Matt lied.

"Well he's been giving me the third degree ever since then about Tom
Bromfield and some other guy—I think he's talking about Amos
Fitch—and whoever else I've been fucking around with.  (I know you knew
about Tom and Amos.)  But that's all he'll talk about, since he met with
your father.  But he's also treating me different somehow.  He's not
yelling as much, but he's still pissed as hell."

"Shit, man, I dunno," Matt retorted.  "I can guess.  Your old man probably
accused Dad of forcing you into shit or leading you astray or something.
And Dad probably told him that we don't do that stuff, that all our boys
are experienced, and that we investigate to make sure they know what
they're getting into.  Fuck, Randy, you remember being with Dad before he'd
let you switch over.  You probably told him about Tom.  I'm sure you told
him what Amos had said.

"So did you come clean with your Dad?"

"I had to tell him about how Tom got me into having sex with him," Randy
admitted.

"And did you tell him about Mr. Bromfield?"

"Oh, shit no!  If Dad knew Mr. Bromfield had fucked me, god only knows what
he'd do!

"And how the hell did you know about Mr. Bromfield?" Randy asked.

"I just figured." Matt answered.  "Brother Michael would scope out a likely
candidate.  Tom's sister would seduce him. Him and her would get a real hot
thing going.  Then Tom would get involved.  Before long Tom's dad and
Brother Michael would be in the act.  And then, I guess you all have some
kind of heavy thing going with all those good Christian dicks and pussies
around."

"Motherfucker, you got it figured all right."

"I dunno why you'd even want to get involved with us," Matt continued.
"Musta been the money."

"The money and the excitement.  Shit, man, I just got addicted to sex.  I
love puttin' my dick wherever it'll go, and I'll take one wherever it'll
fit," Randy explained.

Suddenly he shouted, "Wait a minute!  How the fuck did you know about
Brother Michael?  There ain't no way you could know about him!"

"Don't get your ass in an uproar," Matt said.  "What I said about him was a
lucky guess.  But my dad's taking this whole thing real, real seriously.
Your old man can fuck up more than you know, if he doesn't settle down.  So
Dad has had a private detective looking into everybody involved.  The dick
found out about the teenage social club—we figured right away it was a
fuck club—and he found out about the private Bible Study that the
Bromfields run, and that has Brother Michael as its advisor.  So I just put
two and two together.

"But your mom is a member of the Bible Study Group, Randy.  You know any
thing about it?"

"N...no.  I know there is one.  But that's all."

Matt decided to go for broke.  "It's like the teenage group.  You gotta be
invited to study the Bible.  And most of the members are women.  The men
members, except for Tom's dad, are all young bachelors, including Brother
Michael.  Makes you wonder."

"Holy shit!" Randy exclaimed.  "My mother?"

"I'm not saying...Look man, I don't know.  I just know we've got to get
some sense into your dad's head.  My dad'll be glad to talk to you, if you
want to ask him anything.  And I'll let you know if I find out anything.  I
hope you'll do the same.

"But, goddamit Randy, if your dad does what he's threatening to do, my dad
will have you, me, the Bromfields, the whole bunch testifying in court.
We'll all be fucked!"


While Matt and Randy were talking, at the electric company the linemen were
having a departmental meeting.  As it came to an end, Baxter's boss, a
sixty-year-old who'd come up through the ranks, said, "One last thing.  And
this is about the strangest thing I've ever had to talk about at one of
these meetings.  Came down from the front office.  Has to do with sex."

"Goanna be whores at the company picnic?" one wiseacre asked to a big
laugh.

"Hell no.  And I don't really understand what I've been told.  But it seems
that there's some sort of investigation going on.  Seems to be about boy
prostitutes."

"Not interested in boys," the same voice piped up.

"You sure about that?" a voice from the rear of the room responded.  There
was much laughter.

"O.K.  Settle down," the supervisor commanded.  "What the front office
wants you to know is this: They think someone in this department may be
involved in whatever this investigation is about.  And they want to
reemphasize the company's policy.  Since our linemen often work in
residential areas where families are present, we do not condone public
sexual misconduct of any kind.  What you men do in private is your own
business, but if anything involving sex about you or anybody in any of your
families gets in the paper or on tv, you will be fired with no questions
asked.  That's all I got to say."

The meeting broke up and Baxter approached his boss.  "That stuff about boy
prostitutes is really disturbing," he said.  "You don't know anything
more?"

"That's all the info I got," his superior replied.  "I don't think the
front office knows anything.  My boss did mention that it might involve one
of the prominent churches, but that don't make sense either.

"You're a big churchgoer, Baxter.  Yall got something going on that you
shouldn't have?"  He laughed.

Baxter was not amused.


As soon as he got off work Baxter headed for the house on Fourteenth Street
to confront Edwards.  He was obviously troubled.  "So you're trying to
frighten me by threatening to have me fired, are you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Si replied.

Baxter repeated what his supervisor had said at the meeting, then added,
"You can't tell me you're not behind this."

"Mr. Baxter, you flatter me.  I'm just a small businessman.  The only
person I know that works for the electric company is you.  I'm sure as hell
not on speaking terms with "the front office," whoever that is."

"Maybe some of your mafia connections..." Baxter began.

Si's laughter interrupted him.  "Man, you've got strange ideas.  `Mafia
connections?'  I'm just trying to make a few bucks for myself and give some
kids the opportunity to have a little fun doing what they'd be doing
anyway, and to make some money for themselves.

"I'll tell you this, though.  What your boss said, it's gotta be true.  The
press would have a field day with this.  And whatever might happen to me,
you'd wind up without a job.  And your family, my family, and it looks like
a lotta folks at your church would be dragged through the mud."


Baxter again left unsatisfied, but thinking.  When he got home Randy was
waiting.

"Dad, I gotta tell ya some more stuff."

"There's more to tell?" Baxter asked.

"Please don't go off half-cocked," Randy continued.  "Hear me out, please.

"You know the group at church, `Teen Joy?'"

"Yeah, you're a member, aint you?  You get together and have good Christian
fun.  Show those other kids you don't have to smoke dope or drink."

"Well, it's a sex club.  Tom Bromfield or his sister seduce kids, get `em
into having sex, and then...well, Brother Michael invites `em to join Teen
Joy, and everybody gets to mess around, if you know what I mean."

"Brother Michael would have nothing to do with anything like that!" his
father shouted.

"Dad, Brother Michael has had his big fat dick up my ass!" Randy shouted
back.  "So has Mr. Bromfield!" he finally admitted in the heat of the
moment.

"My God!" Baxter gasped.  He was finally beginning to grasp the true
implications of what he had been told by Edwards and his boss, as well as
by his son.

"Dad, I'm sorry.  But I love sex.  And I was the one that wanted to get
involved in JCC.  Mr. Edwards didn't have anything to do with it.  And it
wasn't just for the money.  It was for the the thrill, for the sex.  It was
because of what I'd been doing in Teen Joy."

Randy was now crying.  Baxter was almost catatonic.

"And Dad," Randy continued, "they've got this Bible Study Group that Mom's
in...Mr. Bromfield and Brother Michael..."  He collapsed into his father's
arms unable to continue.

Baxter nuzzled his son.  "Oh my God!" he cried.  "My poor boy."


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Thank you for reading this far.  Feedback is still important.  Pro or con,
please let me hear from you.  macoutmann@yahoo.com.

Copyright 2011 by Macout Mann.  All rights reserved.