Date: Mon, 7 Nov 2011 17:34:38 -0700
From: rob loveboy <loveboyrob2@gmail.com>
Subject: Jack-&Jill-Went-Downhill-23

I regretted not having worn a jacket, it was cool and drizzling rain by the
time I pedalled down town. I had no problem finding the brown-stone
townhouse, although I was uncertain of the exact address. It was a shot in
the dark looking for Jill there, I wasn't certain if it was the weather or
fear that raked me, shivering uncontrollably as I rang the door bell.

I almost turned away after a short while, abandoning the hope when the door
opened and the same man that I had seen before stood there in silk pajamas,
a scorn on his face, inquisitive to my intrusion.

"Hello, Sssir" I stuttered,  "I...I...I'm looking for Jillian. You know
him... the boy that... ya know, comes here sometimes?" I asked feeling like
a fool, but getting to the point and sheepishly looking at the ground, "Is
he here by chance? -- I mean, I know that he... that he comes here, Sir."

The man's face grew red and flared, "I know no one named... whatever you
said the name was..."

"But you must recognize me, I was here once with Jillian... well, he's
fifteen...  long brown hair --I waited outside for him and..."

"Fuck off young man, I know nobody by that name... let alone a young boy!
-- Good night!" he refuted and slammed the door.

Something came over me, very out of character for me indeed, I screamed at
the top of my lungs continuously ringing his bell, "You fucking old
pervert, Charles! Open the fucking door and talk to me you fucking
boy-fuckin' pedophile!... I know that you've been fucking my friend and
giving him cash and drugs for it, and..."

The door opened and slammed into the side wall, the man stood there in
fear, sweat rolling down his face, he made a move to grab my neck but I
retracted quickly enough and stared him in the eye.

"I will scream my fucking heart out if you try and touch me again,
Charles!" I threatened, "I know that you know Jillian and I only want to
know if you've seen him lately... that's all, okay? -He's my boyfriend and
I'm looking for him, I promise, Sir" I begged, tears began to flow
uncontrollably.

The man looked around cautiously and invited me into the foyer with a
hurried wave. The place looked huge and nice, brass and wood adorned the
expanse that I could see. Jillian said the man was rich and judging by his
home, that was indisputable.

Invited further after instructions to remove my shoes, apprehensively I
followed, despite not knowing if he had information or contact with Jill. A
beautiful living room with a blazing fire place is where I was instructed
to sit. He was being very nice to me, offering liquor to which I accepted a
cooler, sipping it in rapid, nervous haste.

His demeanor had changed from fear of me to obliging host, the bulge in his
pajama bottoms spoke volumes of his intentions after I purposefully removed
my rain damp t-shirt and moved to the floor closer to the warm fire. I was
scared shitless, but if the man had any information about Jillian, I would
get it out of him as deceitful as it was.

I remembered Jillian saying that he was getting to old for the man's
preference for young boys. I imagined that it was Texas that supplied
Charles' libido, Jillian being Jillian, just cashed in on the knowledge,
perhaps blackmailing when he, himself became expendable to the man.

It was not ten minutes later that I felt woozy, out of control, lifeless
and helpless as a rag-doll. I was fully cognisant of my surroundings and
plight as he removed my clothes. He was going to rape me, and he
did exactly that. He had turned the tables on me. I had been a willing boy
whore lately and now a regrettable cock teaser and right then I was feeling
used and ashamed of myself.

His vise like grip on my genitals was excruciating as he forced his way
into me. The louder I screamed, the more he seemed to like it, even
slapping my face hard and laughing. The urge to fight him off was
definitely there, run naked out the door if I could, but I was paralyzed
and at his mercy. He had drugged me, I concluded. So fast and shockingly
efficient, I wondered in the man was some kind of doctor to have such
knowledge and skill.

He laid atop me spent, whatever narcotic he fed me was wearing off quick. I
had functional mobility in my arms first and shortly there after in my
legs. I rested to be sure I was completely agile before I slithered out
from under him, wobble kneed and dizzy. He made an attempt to grab my
ankle, but I manged to pull away and run, falling once and
becoming disorientated.

I crawled to where I saw a telephone, a welcome help line that I managed to
pull from a table and have crash onto the floor. He was close behind, I
felt his hands on my waist pulling me back. The attempt to punch in 911 was
only succeeded in milliseconds before I was thrust away and punched in the
head, I wasn't even sure that I was successful until I heard the faint
voice of the operator.

"911 emergency, fire, ambulance or police.--- Hello, is anybody there?"

He muffled my mouth and called me a fucking idiot in my ear. He was very
angry and hit me again. I bit his hand and tried to scream, but he endured
the pain to keep me silent, I tasted his blood.

"Hello, 911 emergency, is anyone there? What is your emergency please?"

I had a sudden recollection of a policeman coming to my class many years
ago. He said that if you were in trouble, you didn't even have to ask for
help. Help would be on the way right away regardless after dialing 911
even if no one communicated an urgency.

He held my mouth and dragged me toward the phone where he attempted to
appease the operator that it was a mistake call and all was well, no need
to send the troops and hung up laughing to the operator.

He released my mouth and smiled. "You little shit!  I should whip your
little tight ass for that, young man."

I coughed, trying to get air, "They're coming anyway, you know. Just
minutes away from here to make sure everything is okay... it's standard
practise with 911 calls. I learned that in school, ass hole!"

He looked at me in horror realizing that I may be right! I grabbed my jeans
and shoes leaving my t-shirt, underwear and socks behind and ran out the
door as fast as I could pulling my jeans up on the run, stumbling in my
haste much to the astonishment of a few passerby on the sidewalk. A police
car was nearing and I bolted into an alley. Trouble was my bike was locked
up to a light pole outside Charles' place. I would have to wait till the
cops were satisfied that no emergency existed in Charles' home and
hopefully, no one reported a naked boy coming out of the townhouse.

A half hour later the coast was clear. I had my bike in my possession but
couldn't resist a broken piece of cobble-stone side walk and after a quick
glance around, shattered Charles' large living-room window before speeding
off with a smile on my face.

My next stop looking for Jill would have been Texas' place had I known
exactly where it was other than close to the 'boy-stroll.' That night I was
too sick and delirious to remember where I was taken, so I drove around and
around, up and down streets looking for anything familiar. Then I saw it!
Southern Fried Chicken, "eat in, or take out!"

Texas had made a joke that came to me suddenly that the place was his
second kitchen, just across the avenue and almost as good as his mama used
to make. He treated us to fried chicken that night we were at his home! I
remembered the attached garage and realized only one house had that
feature. Eureka!

I dumped my bike and ran to the door literally crying in good luck. Jillian
had to be there, I felt a powerful connection as I shook uncontrollably and
rang the bell again and again. I saw a shadow in the peep hole and jumped
up and down in excitement when the door opened and Texas stood there, the
size of the door frame but what a beautiful sight to see!

"Jacky boy, that you hammerin' away on my bell? -- Well I'll be a monkey's
uncle, damn tar nation, cummon in. Where's your shirt, boy? It's colder out
than a Southern Bell in man-O-pause, I do declare!"

"Hi Texas, I'm looking for Jillian.... please, is he here?"

"Damn, yer tender young nipples are perkier than a sow nursin' ten piglets
on six tits, git your ass in here. Why is it ever time I see ya yer
freezin' to death? And look at those pants, saturated like ya all pissed
yourself! -- Come on boy, lets git ya outta those wet pants and warmed up."

"Texas, I need to find Jill. I - I - I'm looking for him!" I rang out,
"Please tell me where he is... if anyone knows, well... you would, Sir!" I
begged as he hauled me into the bathroom.

"Strip off them wet shoes and pants, boy! Put this towel around ya if yer
shy like I knows ya is a'ready."

I stripped in front of him, hell, I was used to being naked in front of
people by now.

"Damn it all anyway, boy! You are one fuckin' hot piece of boy meat."

"Where is he, Texas? I beg you... please tell me!"

Texas felt up my ass cheeks with both hands then turned my around sharply.

"Boy why is ya all greased like a stuffed pig on a spit, and yer ass all
red like, too!?"

"A man I went to see about finding Jill... he took me that way. He drugged
me with something then he fucked me. I got away after; that's how I lost my
shirt and underwear." I didn't elaborate on what led to my escape.

"Son of a bitch! Who was he, ya say Hoover knew him?"

I explained about the man Charles, Texas knew instantly who the man was. My
assumption that he probably supplied boys to Charles was correct.

"Gonna have ta pay me a visit on old Charles fer rapin' one of my boys and
not payin' fer it either. I mean ya ain't one of my boys technically, but
he don't need know that! -- Now y'all hop in the shower and clean yer self
up, I'll give ya fifty bucks upfront fer yer trouble, I'll collect from
Charlie later."

I sensed he was stalling in telling me anything about Jillian, but I felt
it was a good omen that he didn't flat out tell me he hadn't seen him. He
knew something and I was determined to find out what.

Wrapped in a towel I made my way into the living room. Two teen boys around
16 or so knelt on the floor on either side of the coffee table that was
covered in white powder. My heart skipped a beat, I wanted some of that
shit badly. Texas was seated in his chair and must have seen my desires and
told me to go for it.

Tim and Billy were the boys names, Billy lined up two long snorts and
moments later I felt the tingling sensation and blissful relaxation. The
good stuff again, not the shit Danny got for me. The effects were felt
moments later. The world was a happy place once again.

Texas pulled me up and placed me on his lap. I didn't mind when his hand
made it's way inside the towel and fondled me as he conversed with the two
boys, some kind of instructions about best positioning for camera shots
inside the 'sound stage' bedroom with the race car bed.

Tim said, "Well, lets get this over with then, my girlfriend's waiting for
me to fuck her."

"Ya, right!" laughed Billy, slapping his knee. "She's 13, asshole, and the
only thing you got so far was a blow job, cuz you convinced her... as a
last resort, mind you, telling her that you've sucked cock before, and it
ain't as repulsive as she thinks!"

"Well it worked!" Countered Tim. "And..."

"That's 'nugh, boys." Interjected Texas, "We have a video to shoot."

Fifteen minutes later, I was in Texas' sound booth watching Tim and Billy
get it on together from many different camera views. Tilt and zoom, Texas
manipulated the cameras adding for my benefit that close ups taken from
other video would later be inserted for ultimate erotic effect, regardless
of the cast of actors.

"No sense re-inventing the wheel," he proclaimed with a chuckle, "a cock up
an ass... well... is a cock up an ass, --  who's gonna know the difference?
Blow jobs are easy to record from this vantage point ans that's what I
concentrate on."


Tim and Billy performed so well that I was envious. Tim reminded me a lot
of Jillian, same stocky build, hair, even his cock looked the same as Billy
worked it lovingly on close-up camera. I could hold back no longer.

"Texas... where's Jillian? Why haven't you told me anything?" I asked with
my head lowered and sad. Tears began to flow.

Texas looked at me and suddenly ignored his technical endeavour and sighed.
"Young 'un... I would take ya to him, but ya ain't gonna like what ya see.
-- Hoover's always been his own worst enemy. Sometimes...I think he"s
done changed fer the better... like when he met y'all." he smiled, "twas
like when he was with that man friend of his...  Carl, all happy 'n
ever'thing one minute, then outta control the next!"

"His momma findin' out and all... well, she done chased the man away from
him. I wonder to this day in tar nation how things might've been different
fer Hoover. The man loved him... that was clear as mud on a pig's feets, so
it was!" he reflected, a tear noticeable in his eye. "But the boy went bad
af'er that. Hated ever'one... 'specially his momma!"

The truth was finally being told, I knew a lot already but Texas' recount
was an eye opener.

"He done hated this partic'lar gym teacher at school... used to make fun of
him ya know, call him names. His momma went and told the school 'bout him
and how the man molested him for years... so she said, anyway.

"Then every one know'd bout it! Word travelled fast and that asshole gym
teacher had a lot to do with that... teasin' the boy relentless, he did!
Then Hoover got even... the only way he know'd how. He lied and said that
the teacher made sexual advances at em! Caused a big scandal, so he did.
Teacher had ta resign o'er it. Only fact in Hoover's story was that he seen
the man naked in the shower one day after every one else was gone home
only cuz he had to stay and clean up the locker room as some kind'a
punishment.

"Guess the teacher had a prom'nant mole on his dick that Hoover described
to the authorities... and the rest was history!" he concluded.

A very different version of what Jill had told me. He lied to me and that
made my heart break. I truly believed he had been honest with me, held
nothing back during our infrequent, after sex talks about his past.

"So... his ol' man finds out about Carl from the ex, then 'bout the gym
teacher of course and accuses him of be'in a fag boy. Course when his mum
lost custody and social serv'ces sent him to live with the daddy, it wasn't
a warm welcome."

"But why did he go to reform school?" I asked. "He said it was cuz of a
girl that..."

"It was 'cause he... he molested a young boy he used to baby sit. Wasn't
satisfied gettin' a reg'lar blow job after school; he tried to fuck the
kid. Left tell-tale signs... hurt the boy bad!"

"Where is he Texas?" I begged, "I don't care about that shit!"

He turned his attention back to his recordings and said, "Best If I just
take ya home, young'un. Ya don't need him in yer life; mark my words, lad."

"Where is he Tex? I have to find him and take him home!" I pleaded, tears
flowing like a river. "Please Texas, tell me where he is? I know that you
know where he is. He just needs me right now... he needs to come home where
it's safe!"

"Damn it boy!" he murmured, hands on his face, "Ya can't help Hoover...
he's beyond that. He will hurt you in the end... mark my words!"

"No, Texas. I came all the way here to find him and I'm not leaving until I
do! Please help me?"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, God help me! -- He's workin' the stroll last I saw
of him two days ago. Strung out on somethin' and hangin' with them losers
again. I tried... set him up with a trick at the Sheraton and what does he
do? Steals the man's wallet after all is said and done! My reputation is
done tarnished now, a good customer lost, God damn it!"

My head was abuzz with information I didn't want to hear. I truly thought
Texas loved Jillian in a certain way. I wanted to spit in his face for
betraying him and almost did. Jillian was not perfect by any means; Texas,
of all people should know that! Someone else had abandoned him, no wonder
he was so fucked up. My resolve to find him intensified, I was taking him
home where he belonged. Somehow we would make everything right together. I
could convince Grandma to somehow take control of his well being, legally I
mean! Why not? Nobody else wanted him. There had to be a way under the
circumstances.

My excuse leaving the room was that I had to pee. Texas only grunted, his
attention fixed on the recording of Rick, who was preparing to fuck Billy
doggie style. I knew to find my jeans and shoes in the dryer, still damp
but warm, I pulled them on. My shoes were sodden wet, the laces cumbersome
to tie and they squeaked upon every step. Shirtless as I had entered, I
made my exit, stopping to snort an irresistible line from the coffee table
then deciding to take the bag, after all, Texas owed me fifty bucks; or so
he claimed!

I locked my bike on a park bench and squatted at the bushes. I wanted to
keep my distance from the other teens on the next corner, warned and aware
that it was very territorial ground. I squinted and stared time and time
looking to catch a glimpse of Jillian. Every vehicle that pulled to the
side I scrutinized the boy getting out. Two hours later I was shivering
from the cold and in desperation dared to make my way ahead to inquire
about Jillian. Surely they knew him, I reasoned, 'birds of a feather...'

Nervously, I walked out from the cover of the bushes. At least 10 teens
stood ten or fifteen feet apart on the block, all competing for the same
thing I knew. Every car that drove past, the boys made suggestive
sexual gestures and flashed their fingers that I guessed was a price,
thirty, twenty, even as low as ten dollars! Competition must be fierce, I
reasoned.

My presence was quickly noticed, four teens moved toward me and not in a
friendly manner. I was immediately pushed to the sidewalk and a kick caught
my right side that left me curled up in pain. Another boy was kneeling on
my chest and grasping my hair.

"What ya doin' here kid? Ain't enough action to go 'round without some
chicken cock homing in on our turf! -- Get the fuck outta here... ya hear
me?"

"I'm not... not like that!" I plead, "My name is Jack, Jack Sprat and I'm
looking..."

Even I realized how comical that was, but I dug my grave even farther by
stating, "My name is jack, and I'm looking for Jill! You must know him,
he's..."

"What story book did you crawl out of?" one boy said, the others broke out
in hysterical laughter.

The boy holding me down said, "Well, Jack Sprat... how 'bout ya eat
some fat?"

"Yea! Lets take him in the bushes," suggested another teen. "teach him not
to be selling his sorry ass around here."

Right there on the sidewalk my jeans were pulled down, a shoe was lost as I
was dragged by the arms over the cement, then over some gravel until the
cool, wet grass seemed to ease my scrapes and burns felt from my belly to
me knees. I considered offering the bag of shit for my safe release, only
to realize how ridiculous that would have been. I was about to be raped
again that night, wishing that I could at least snort a line to replenish
the high that seemed to be losing it's magic at a rapid pace. I prayed they
didn't rifle through my pants and find it.

I couldn't remember if it was Jill or Texas that said crack heads are lousy
in bed because they couldn't get it up, they gave lousy head and were dead
fucks. I counted my blessings after realizing that that assumption appeared
to be the case. Two teens  pulled down their pants, but there was no
obvious menacing threat, nor could the one boy who forced me to my knees
to be orally stimulated amount to anything other than his frustrated
aggression.

He pushed me back to the ground and grabbed my cock producing a
switch-blade knife as two other boys held me in place. The five-inch silver
blade was a very real fear to me but it was the demonic expression he took
on that clearly indicated he planned on using it.

"We don't take kindly to chicken dicks stealin' business around here." he
whispered as I watched the blade painlessly travel from my belly button to
my groin leaving a razor thin red trail in it's wake, stopping just an inch
from the base of my cock. "But if the chicken dick ain't lookin' pretty
anymore, ya know, scarred up and all... well then no pervert pedo-trick
gonna want fillet-O-chicken dick!"

Headlights from the light vehicle traffic cast an occasional eerie
brightness over the torture scene happening in plain view only yards from
the street. Some merely traversing their way home, others present for
illicit purposes, but they all had one thing in common; not to become
involved!

It was no idle threat, he intended to mutilate my genitals and the teens
holding me down only smiled on encouragingly as the knife began to inflict
the circumference of my cold, shrivelled scrotum.

I started to bawl, "Please... please, I'm not a boy-hustler, I'm only
here looking for my boyfriend! -- You probably know him... he's Jillian and
he..."

One boy who I thought to be around 14 years old and had not participated in
my abuse had only stood over me observing without expression. However,
right then he gawked at me wide eyed, "Jill... as in, like... Hoover?"

"Yes, Hoover... he's my boyfriend, honest!" I tried to convince the only
person who seemed interested.

Fear replaced his look of shock, he turned on his heels and ran, my hopes
of even minor intervention on my behalf vanished along with the boy. I
thought that perhaps he became afraid of Jillian and wanted nothing less
than to be as far removed from the situation as possible.

My abuser gave instructions to have me turned over, ass propped up by my
knees like a Muslim in prayer. I found out what turned him on as I felt his
cock being forced through my sphincter as he carved what he claimed were
his "initials" into my back. He wasn't as careful making incisions, the
pain was quite intense and I screamed and cried for mercy.

At first when I heard it ever so faint I thought it was my
imagination, "Jacky...
Jacky... where are you?" But it was getting louder as it screamed nearer.
"Jacky! It's me, I'm here, it's Jill... where are you?"

I couldn't believe my eyes when I lifted my head from the ground and saw my
Knight in white Hilfiger frantically searching for signs of me from across
the street. I had sudden burst of adrenalin and in a flash crawled
out escaping from my unsuspecting captors.

"JILLIAN, JILLIAN!" I screamed rising to my feet only to stumble and fall
having my jeans at my ankles. I gathered the waist and regained a
staggered momentum hardly feeling the sharp gravel on my one shoeless foot.
Tears of fright turned to tears of joy as I neared the sidewalk, our eyes
locked for an instant as he got his bearings by the illumination of a
passing car. He bolted across the street toward me.

A second set of headlights lit him up. His broad smile turned to a startled
frown a second before the sound of screeching brakes, it was a nightmare
that haunted me for a long time afterward. In slow motion Jillian's feet
left his shoes as he was propelled upward, bounced off a shattering
windshield and thrown like a rag-doll over the roof and onto the pavement
behind!

The offending vehicle slowed then sped way. At first, I stood there
frozen in disbelief and horror, but for only for a moment.  The 'boys of
the night' gathered around the broken and bloodied body as I held him in my
arms rocking him, my neck bent back staring at the dark sky and cried an
ear piercing wail like never before. I cursed God himself, Jesus Christ and
all the miserable Saints I was brought up to believe that protected us from
evil!


*Epilogue*

It had been a while since last I sat upon my rock fishing. Grandma had
packed me a picnic lunch of fried chicken, potato salad and brownies that
were baked fresh the prior evening. I was happy to be there again, things
always seemed peaceful, tranquil, and hours passed so quickly that I always
lost track of time. I had walked to the river, never having recovered my
bicycle from that horrible night. His bike still lay chained outside my
window, but I couldn't bare to look at it, let alone use it!

It had been three weeks by then. I had heard the cliche that "not a day
goes by that...," truth is... not one hour went by that I didn't think of
him. I was over the outright crying, just tears tended to flow randomly by
day and saturated my pillow by night. "Time heals all,"  or so they say!
-- I guessed not.

Grandma was my pillar as always. She cried both for me, and with me, in
my many melt-downs. Sheldon, the best friend a person could ever hope to
have, held me close in my bed every single night in my unbearable grief.
How he managed to convince his mom of the necessity to literally move in
and commute to school for so many days was beyond me, but I think Grandma
laid the ground work with Shel's Grandma in that regard!

That same very tramatic night, I went for the bag of chemical solace I
had my possession. Some comfort and peace of mind was most definitely
justified. I retrieved it from my pocket and stared at it. I thought about
everything I had shamefully done under that influence. Somehow I knew that
that was what also led to Jillian's inevitable demise. I walked to the
bathroom and poured the contents down the toilet!

Mostly now concealed by pubic growth, the razor thin incissions to my groin
healed to a minor scar. However some many years later, the carving on my
back only serves to remind me  that my Knight in Shining  Armor came to my
aid and saved my life once again for the final time!


The End!