Date: Wed, 23 Jul 2014 06:09:13 +0100
From: elyvanity@mail2tor.com
Subject: The Rent Boy Client

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Disclaimer – This story is a work of fiction. None of the events or people
in this story are real. The author does not encourage or condone anyone
having sex with minors or use drugs. Respect and obey the laws of your
jurisdiction.

Notes to Readers – New story I am working on a little bit on the side as I
finish up my other story. I appreciate feedback and hearing from readers.
Please email me at elyvanity@mail2tor.com - Ely Vanity


The Rent Boy Client – 1
by EV

	"Maggie, what the hell is going on? April Fool's Day was months ago. You
aren't actually going to press all these charges are you? He's a kid with
an obvious drug problem; he belongs in rehab and with social services,
not in county lock up. This is insane," said Tony Cardoza into his phone
as he entered the Cook County Jail facility where his new client was
being held.

	"Look Tony, there is more going on here than is in your file. Why don't
you swing by my office after you meet with your client and we can discuss
his case," said Margaret Rice, the deputy district attorney.

	"Okay, text you when I'm done and on my way over to your office," said
Tony. He hung up and went to over the security checkpoint to present his
credentials and get cleared through security. A few minutes later, Tony
stood outside a small interview room and reviewed the case file one more
time. His client was officially listed as 'John Doe', a male of
'undetermined age' that was being charged with solicitation of
prostitution, attempted robbery, possession of narcotics, possession of
narcotics with intent to sell, and possession of an illegal firearm. It
was obvious from the mug shot that the boy was underage. He appeared to
in his mid-teens, but it was hard to determine his exact age since the
boy was already starting to look haggard from abusing crystal meth.

	The boy had so far refused to say anything to the police except, "I want
an attorney." Tony could read between the lines of the report to know
that something was wrong. The police and the District Attorney's office
had the boy for forty-eight hours before they finally sent word to the
Public Defender's office. Social Services had still not been contacted,
as the police will still treating the boy as an adult since he refused to
identify himself or give his age. Tony collected himself and took a deep
breath, he was going to need to keep a professional demeanor. It was
going to be difficult, because even with the a bit of a haggard
appearance from the drug abuse, the boy was cute, and based on the
prostitution charge, not unfamiliar with having sex with adult men. Tony
also knew he had to keep a check on his emotions and not let his own
history cloud his judgment concerning his new client.

	A deputy sheriff opened the door for him and Tony entered the interview
room. The boy was seated at a small table and glanced up at Tony as the
man entered. The boy was 5'3", and only ninety-five pounds as his meth
use had eaten away at him. His brown hair was currently dyed a mix of
black and pink, and his brown eyes regard Tony and the deputy sheriff
with suspicion. His hair was long, hanging down to his shoulders and gave
him a slightly feminine appearance. His skin was pale and he had several
scabs on his arms. Tony knew from the file that the boy had been wearing
black eye-liner and dressed in 'emo' style clothes when he was arrested,
but now was without any make-up and was wearing a standard issue orange
jumpsuit.

	"I still ain't saying shit. When you assholes going to let me see an
attorney. I have rights bitch," said the boy when he saw Tony enter the
room. The boy was agitated and looked tired.

	"Yes, you do and I am not a bitch; I am your attorney, Anthony Cardoza.
You may call me Mr. Cardoza. I am from the Public Defender's office,"
said Tony as he took a seat opposite the hardened  young hustler. He sent
the file down on the table and pulled out a notepad and pen.

	"How do I know this isn't a trick, and you're not just another fucking
pig trying to get me say something?" asked the boy as he continued to eye
the man suspiciously. Mr. Cardoza appeared to be in his mid-forties. He
was five-foot eleven and about a hundred fifty pounds with a lean build.
He had light brown hair cut short, hazel eyes, and was clean shaven.

	Tony showed him his credential. "Look, here is my ID. Beyond that you are
going to have to trust me. Anyway, at this point if I were tricking you,
nothing you said to me would be admissible anyway."

	The boy snorted, "Trust you, I've been burned by that one before." He
examined the badge for a minute then seemed to reach a decision and
leaned back in his chair, "Okay, I guess you're legit."

	"Thank you. Now first, I am going to need to know you name, your age,
your birthday, your address, how to contact a parent or guardian, all
that basic information. Then I'll need you tell me about your arrest and
why the DA's office is trying to throw the book at you. It looks like
they have you for solicitation of prostitution, drug possession with
intent to sell, and a possession of an illegal firearm," said Tony.

	"Do you have a cigarette?" asked the boy.

	"No. I don't smoke and they don't allow smoking inside the jail,"
answered Tony. "Now stop stalling and start letting me know who you are
so I can help you."

	The boy brushed his hair out of his face and looked down at the table,
"My name is Dylan Richards. I'm fourteen. I was born March 15th 2000 in
Des Moines Iowa. I don't have an address as I crash at friends and
tricks' places. You can try contacting my mom, but I doubt she gives a
fuck about me. She didn't give a shit when her boyfriend kicked me out
onto the street two years ago."

	"What about a father?" asked Tony as he jotted down the boy's information.

	"Last I knew he was in jail back in Iowa. Haven't seen him since I was
five," answered Dylan.

	"You were kicked out? What happened?" asked Tony.

	Dylan rolled his eyes and sneered at man, "What do think fucking
happened? He found out I was a god damn faggot, that's what happened. He
beat me up and told me to get the fuck out. So I got the fuck out."

***

Two Years Ago – Dunkerton Iowa

	"You sure no one's going to walk in on us?" asked Brent.

	"Yeah, my mom works until midnight, and her boyfriend Ray works until
six. He goes to the bar after work to hang out with my mom while she
works, so we're good. How does this work?" asked Dylan, his nervousness
apparent in his high pitched voice. He was in his room with Brent
Jackson. Brent was a junior at the local high school, and the guy to go
for if you wanted weed. When he heard the rumors that Brent would
exchange pot for sex with any cute boy or girl, he approached the older
boy in order to kill two birds with one stone, sex with a cute guy and
free weed. Dylan had jacked off with a couple of his classmates but never
gone further as he didn't want them to think he was homosexual.

	Dylan approached Brent yesterday on the way home from school. He let the
sixteen-year-old drug dealer know that he wanted to get some pot, but
that he didn't have any money. He told Brent that he had heard that he
was willing to work things out with kids like him. Brent looked the
skinny twelve-year-old emo boy over and told him that they could work
something out if Dylan had a place they could fool around. So now they
were alone in Dylan's bedroom inside Ray's mobile home. Dylan and his
mother had been living with Ray for the last six months.

	"Well that depends. If you just want a couple joints, you can suck me. If
you want a whole eighth, you have to let me fuck that cute little ass of
yours," said Brent. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a wooden
box. He opened it and removed two plastic bags, one with two joints in
it, and another with an eighth of an ounce of marijuana. He set the two
bags down on the bed between him and Dylan.

	"Umm, I don't know about letting you fuck me. I'm not a fag," said Dylan
defensively, "I think I'll just take the two joints." He thought Brent
was really cute and the thought of sucking the older boy's cock was
already causing his own small cock to get hard, but he wasn't ready to
get fucked. Sucking a dick was just boys fooling around, taking it up the
ass would mean he really was queer. He wasn't ready for anyone else to
know that yet; he was already bullied enough as it was.

	"Sure, not a problem. Hey, since this is your first time, I'll even split
a joint with you so you can sample the goods so to speak. Plus it will
help relax you," said Brent. He put the two bags back into the box and
pulled out a joint and a lighter from the box before setting it down on
the floor next to his backpack. He lit the joint and took a hit then
passed it to Dylan.

	Dylan had smoked pot twice before with a couple other kids after school,
so he was able to take a hit off the joint without completely
embarrassing himself. Brent reached over and rubbed Dylan's thigh through
his black skinny jeans. "Good shit huh," said Brent.

	Dylan passed the joint back to the blond teen as he released the smoke
from his lungs, "Yeah." Brent took another hit then passed it back to
Dylan. While Dylan was taking a hit, Brent stripped off his t-shirt and
tossed it onto the floor. Dylan stared at the older boy's smooth chest.
When he passed the joint back to Brent, the older boy motioned for him to
take off his own t-shirt. At first Dylan was hesitant to take it off, but
when Brent reached over and started to pull it off, Dylan took it off
himself. The two boys alternated between taking hits off the joint and
removing their clothes. By the time they finished sharing the joint, they
were both naked. Dylan made an effort to make sure he was always facing
Brent.

	Brent leaned down to put the roach into his box, picking up and palming a
small bottle of lube as he did so. He leaned back on the bed and spread
his legs. Dylan didn't notice Brent's slight of hand because he could not
take his eyes of the teen's cut cock. It was beautiful. It was surrounded
by a decent sized patch of blond pubes and was currently about four
inches long and two inches thick in its semi-hard state. Dylan's own cut
cock was hard. It was three and a half inches long and thin. He had just
a couple soft brown hairs at the base.

	"Come on baby boy; it won't bite," said Brent as he reached down and gave
his cock a tug. The pot was rocking Dylan's world and he was flying high.
The joint had been some of Brent's best weed and was much more potent
than the ditch weed Dylan had smoked previously. He scooted over on the
bed then reached out and wrapped his hand around the teen's dick. He
could feel it hardening in his hand as gently fondled it, lost in a horny
pot high. Bren'ts cock quickly reached its full five and half inch
length.

	Brent reached out, pushing and pulling on Dylan until he was lying face
down on the bed next to him, the boy's head level with his crotch. Brent
noticed that there were several dark bruises marring the pale skin of the
boy's back.

	"Go on, suck it," Brent commanded. Dylan tentatively stuck out his tongue
and licked the teen's now hard cock. Brent was right, it didn't bite. He
wrapped his lips around it and started sucking on the head. Dylan had
watched a little bit of straight porn online while at a friend's house
and did his best to imitate what he had seen.

	While Dylan was busy with his dick, Brent started caressing the boy's
ass. He gave each pale cheek a squeeze, then ran a finger down through
the boy's crack, lightly brushing his finger tip against the boy's virgin
hole. He continued to gently run his finger around the boy's hole as
Dylan sucked on his cock. Dylan enjoyed the feeling of Brent's finger
toying with his asshole and moaned around the cock in his mouth. Taking
that as a green light to go further, Brent took the bottle of lube and
put a small amount on the tip of his index finger.

	Dylan instinctively clinched up when he felt the tip of Brent's finger
enter his ass. The pot helped take the edge of the pain of having his ass
violated for the first time, but Dylan was still hesitant to have
something in his ass. He had liked the feeling of having his hole teased,
but he started to get worried that the teen intended to fuck him. He took
Brent's cock out of his mouth, "I said I don't want to get fucked."

	"Don't worry and just relax, I won't do anything you won't like. You'll
enjoy my finger, trust me," said Brent. Dylan returned to sucking on
Brent's cock as Brent slowly worked his lubed finger in and out of the
boy's asshole. It felt like a jolt of electricity shot through his young
body when Brent's finger found his prostate. "See, you like that baby, I
can tell," said Brent as he rubbed the hard little nut inside the boy's
ass.

	Brent was enjoying the blowjob he was receiving from the inexperienced
young cocksucker and felt himself getting close. He didn't want to cum
yet though, so he gently nudged Dylan off his cock. "Hey, why don't you
put some music on," suggested Brent. Besides wanting to cool off for a
second, he figured it would be good to have some music on to cover up the
noise when he took Dylan's cherry.

	Dylan hopped up off the bed. He dug through a small pile of CD's and
picked out a mix-CD that one of his friends had burned for him. He put it
into the old beat up boom-box that his mom had gotten at a thrift store
for his tenth birthday. While Dylan was putting on the music, Brent
shifted so he was lying down lengthwise on Dylan's bed. He spread his
legs and wagged his hard dick at the boy.

	The twelve year old crawled between Brent's legs and wrapped his hand
around the base of the teen's cock.  He licked around the head then
started sucking on it. He kept one hand wrapped around the base as he
started bobbing up and down on the top half. Brent reached down and
lightly grabbed the boy's head as he begun to thrust his hips up and
down, fucking the boy's mouth.

	"Oh yeah baby, suck that cock," said Brent as he felt his orgasm
approaching. He tightened his grip on Dylan's head. "Oh fuck," he
exclaimed as he started to shoot into the boy's mouth. Dylan tried to
pull off, but Brent held him in place until he was finished coming. "You
better swallow that or you aren't getting any weed," warned Brent when he
released his hold on Dylan's head.

	Brent coming in his mouth surprised Dylan, but he discovered that he did
not hate the taste of the teen's cum. He swallowed it down and sat back
as Brent recovered from his orgasm. He figured that Brent would be in a
hurry to leave after he came, but instead Brent seemed content to rest in
his bed. Dylan took the opportunity to admire Brent's naked body. Brent
opened his eyes and smiled at Dylan when he saw the boy watching him. He
motioned with his hand for the boy to come closer. When Dylan got within
reach, he took the boy's arm and pulled him into a hug. He kissed the
young boy and rolled over so that he was on top of him; he could feel
Dylan's hard little cock pressing into his stomach.

	Brent broke off the kiss and smiled down at Dylan, "I don't normally do
this and if you tell anyone I did, you will regret it." He scooted down
the bed and wrapped his lips around Dylan's cock. Dylan gasped as he felt
someone's lips and tongue on his cock for the first time; it felt
amazing. As Brent gently sucked and licked Dylan, he also put some more
lube on his finger and resumed playing with the boy's ass. Brent sucked
on Dylan's cock as he slowly worked on opening up the boy's ass with his
fingers. He took his time working the finger in, then easing a second
finger into the boy. By the time he was able to get three fingers inside,
his own cock was hard again.

	When Brent pushed his legs forward, Dylan came out of his pleasure and
pot induced trance. "No, stop. I told you, I don't want to get fucked,"
he protested.

	"Your gaping little ass and hard cock say otherwise baby. Don't worry, I
won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me," said Brent as he coated
his cock with lube. He leaned down and kissed Dylan, shoving his tongue
in the boy's mouth as he pressed the head of his cock against the boy's
asshole. Dylan half-heartedly tried pushing the teen off of him, trying
to convince himself that he didn't really want it.

	"AAAHHHH," cried Dylan into Brent's mouth as the head of the teen's dick
pushed into his ass. Brent propped himself up and smiled at the sight of
Dylan's scrunched up face as the boy submitted to him.

	"Relax and push out," instructed Brent. He pulled the head back out and
added some more lube then pressed in again. Brent would have loved to
have a larger cock like the guys in porn, but he did like that his
average five and and half inch dick was great for popping the cherries of
horny kids that wanted some weed.

	For his part, Dylan was finding himself starting to enjoy the feeling of
Brent's cock inside his ass. It helped that the joint Brent had smoked
with him was taking the edge off the pain of being fucked for the first
time. When Brent's cock started rubbing against that spot inside him the
pain disappeared and was replaced by incredible feelings of pleasure.  He
loved the feeling of the older boy's weight on him, Brent's stomach and
chest pressing down on him as his cock slide in and out of his ass. Dylan
was panting and moaning loudly from the new sensations he was
experiencing.

	Dylan's cock twitched and a small amount of thin watery cum shot out as
the stimulation from being rubbed between his and Brent's stomach
combined with the pleasure from getting fucked brought him to orgasm.
Having cum a few minutes earlier, Brent was in no hurry to cum again as
he was enjoying fucking the boy's tight ass.

	Unfortunately for both boys, the music in the room not only concealed the
noise of their fucking, it also prevented them from hearing Ray enter the
mobile home. Ray was home early because he had just been laid off from
the garage where he worked. He was not ready to tell Amy, Dylan's mother,
that he had lost his job, so he did not go to the bar, but instead had
come home to drink. He was already in a bad mood when he heard that faggy
music playing in the boy's room. He went to Dylan's room and opened the
door, prepared to tell the boy to turn that shit off when he saw the boy
lying on his back getting his ass pounded by an older boy. "WHAT THE
FUCK?" he screamed over the music.

	This wasn't the first time that someone had walked in on Brent while he
was banging one of his clients. He reacted quickly. He jumped off the bed
and grabbed his backpack. He quickly threw the box inside it and started
gathering up his clothes. Brent kept a weary eye on the man as Ray walked
over to the desk were the music was still playing on the boom box. Dylan
meanwhile had grabbed the covers on his bed and quickly thrown them over
himself to hide his nakedness.

	Ray picked up the boom box and threw it across the room; it shattered
against the wall next to Dylan's bed. "You fucking faggots, I'll teach
you perverts to not do that shit in my house," yelled Ray.

	Brent reached into his backpack and pulled out a revolver. "Don't move
asshole," he said as he pointed the gun at the man. Ray was a homophobic
bigot of limited intelligence, but he wasn't completely stupid; he
stopped where he was and put his hands up. Brent smiled at how quickly
the man backed down. "I'm not a faggot, I just enjoy fucking them. Now
you are going to step aside and let me leave. I'll finish dressing in the
living room and you can come out when you hear the front door close. If
you come out before than I will shoot you," said Brent as he finished
collecting his clothes and shoes with his free hand. He kept the gun
pointed at Ray as he backed out of Dylan's bedroom. "Don't worry baby,
I'll leave you the full eighth even though I didn't get to finish," said
Brent before closing the door behind him so he would have some warning if
Ray tried to come after him.

	Once the door was closed, Ray released his anger on Dylan. He dragged the
boy out of the bed by his hair and threw him on the floor. He proceed to
hit and kick the boy as he derided him for being a faggot that was
whoring himself out for drugs. Brent felt a brief tinge of guilt as he
hurriedly dressed and fled the house, but was also relieved; it was
unlikely that the man would call the police after he finished beating up
Dylan.

	After he was done venting his anger on Dylan, Ray gave him ten minutes to
pack up his things and get out. Dylan knew from experience that his
mother was just as homophobic as Ray, and that she also cared more about
her boyfriend than about him. This was not the first time Ray had beaten
him, and when Dylan had complained to his mother about it before, she had
just responded that Ray was trying to toughen him up. So Dylan crammed as
much of his stuff as he could into his own backpack and fled. He went
down to the bus station and caught the first bus to Waterloo, the closest
thing that counted as a city in this part of Iowa.