HOUSEBOY

                                                     Jack Sprat

     I'm a light skinned Mexican boy of Spanish descent. My mother is Mexican. 
I never knew my father. I lived my first 16 years in the farm country near
Fresno, going to school whereever I could. My mother, a migrant farm worker,
moved place to place, picking whatever produce that was in season. I have 
three sisters and two brothers younger than myself. We all helped in the 
fields.  I was always grubby, dirty, and hungry. I wondered if things would 
ever get better. My name is Carlos. 
 
    One day, a group of businessmen from San Francisco came to inspect their 
farm. It was a typical roasting, hot summer day. I was sixteen years old, 
working in the field wearing only tight cut-offs. A straw hat kept the sun off 
my head. Picking requires me to bend over.
   
      While the other men moved along, one stayed behind. I got real nervous 
having him watch me. He asked my name. When he found I wasn't working on 
Sunday, he asked me to town for a milk shake and a hamburger. He said he might
have a job for me away from the fields.

      His name was Bill. He was real nice and seemed real interested in my 
welfare. He said, when he saw me in the field, he figured that I was kind of 
above the rest. He asked if I would like to come to San Francisco and be his 
houseboy. I would have my own nice room and he would train me. He felt that I 
could also fit in school. I would start at $600 a month with room and board 
and he would even buy my clothes. I  couldn't believe this. I would be living 
with an important rich person. I would be able to go to school and also send 
money to my family. 

     Bill visited our humble two room sharecroppers house. He met my mother.
My mother was real pleased. She told me that I should go, that I would promise
Bill that I would be honest, obedient and a hard worker. My whole family was 
happy for me. Bill told me to only bring a few personal belongings, we'd get 
some new clothes in San Francisco. That night, I put my few things in a brown 
paper bag and slept restlessly. 

    It was just a few hours drive to San Francisco. I'd never been there. I 
was amazed at the tall buildings. I enjoyed my trip. I was riding in a black 
sports car with leather seats. Before, I had only ridden in beaten up farm
trucks. 
  
   We arrived at a big building. There was a gateman at the entrance who let 
us in. We drove under the building where there was a big parking area. Bill 
wheeled his car into a stall between two other rich cars. We walked to the
elevator. I felt real self conscious with my shabby clothes. I gripped my bag 
of possessions closer as the elevator sped silently upwards. The elevator door 
opened. We stepped right into his apartment. 
  
   "This is my place," Bill said.

    I gasped. Thick carpet supporting beautiful, expensive, furniture. Two 
walls were glassed, giving a view of the city. Everything in the room was
beautiful, clean and shiny. To me, it was a castle. There must be a king and 
queen somewhere.

    "This is the living room," Bill said. " "Now let's look at your room." 

     Bill led me to a door and we both entered.  There was a large clean bed, 
covered by a pretty spread. Cases covered the pillows. There was a television 
and a hi-fi. This was for me? This was my room? This was where I was going to 
stay? It was awesome. My legs shook. I was a peasant Mexican farm boy. I felt 
so inferior, so humble. I didn't know what to say or how to act. 
   
    Bill opened an adjoining door. It was my private bathroom, all sparkling 
tiled. There was a toilet that flushed and even toilet paper. A frosted door 
opened to a shower stall.        
   
    Bill went to a dresser, pulled open a drawer, fished around, bringing out 
new white underwear. "I bought this for you, plus some of clothes which will 
do until we can shop for your wardrobe. Now, I want you to shower."       
   
    I guess I stood under the hot shower water a real long time, using the bar 
of soap all over. I wrapped a towel around me and stepped out. Bill reached 
atop the dresser and picked up a small bottle. He uncapped it, put his thumb 
over it, then rubbed his wet thumb over my chest. What ever it was it smelled
real good. I felt so fresh and happy. I felt I was a prince.
 
    Bill asked me to sit on the bed.  He reached down, grasped my legs, and 
swung them onto the covers.  He put his hand on my stomach. Moving down, he 
opened the towel. Bill was a very rich important man with much power. I was
a humble peasant boy. I felt so docile and servantile. I wanted to please him 
any way I could. I melted when he touched me. If that's what he wanted, I 
would let him.

     My prick got hard. His hand felt it all over, uncapping me and stroking 
me, then putting it in his mouth. His tongue tickled my tip until I let out a
startled cry as my white stuff shot out.

     Bill rolled me over. I got up on all fours while he gently examined me 
from behind. His hand lightly fondled and tugged my balls while he eased his 
spitted finger up my asshole. His other hand reached below, pulling my peter 
until more white stuff splashed on the bed covers. Everything felt real good 
and Bill seemed awful pleased too. 


     I lay real happy while Bill stroked my chest. When I recovered, he sat me
on the edge of the bed and undressed. He took my hand and guided it to
his balls and cock. I hesitantly started to fondle and feel him. He moved
in closer. I put his prick in my mouth on his asking. Bill moaned as I licked 
around real good. After his warm stuff filled my mouth, he rubbed my head and 
gave me a nice smile. 

    "You and I are going to get along real well. Tomorrow, we'll shop for 
more clothes." 

                             

                                 HOUSEBOY
                                     2

 
    I awoke the next morning with Bill's gentle shaking. I looked around. I
pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. My room was like a fairy-tale, 
yet it was true. I snuggled further under the soft clean sheets, and worked my 
body deeper into the mattress. I was radiating with happiness. 
   
     Bill gently shook me again. "It's time to wake up. We have shopping to 
do." Bill pulled back the covers, felt downward and grasped my morning hard-
on. I raised my butt so he could pull my shorts off. His warm hand gently
fondled and played before he slipped me in his mouth. His tongue felt good. He 
continued until I gave a small cry and spurted, offering satisfying, relief.

     I sat up, Bill dropped his pants. I put my head under his shirttail. He 
came quickly. Bill told me that this is how he wanted to start each day.
   
    We took a taxi do do our shopping. I'd never ridden in a taxi. I felt real 
important. I'd expected we would go shopping at K-Mart. Instead, we took an 
elevator in a big building and entered a door marked, "Jacques Pierre". I 
didn't know there were stores high in buildings. This store had a few racks of 
mens clothing, and a bunch of bolts of cloth on shelves.  

    One part of the store was partitioned off. Inside, a young barber was just 
finishing cutting another man's hair. "Before we measure you for clothes, 
you'll get a hair cut," Bill said.  
       
     I leaned back in the chair. My hair was washed again even though I told 
the barber it had been done the night before. Strings of my long black hair
were pulled about and snipped. It seemed that the snipping and combing went on 
forever. Next, my hair was pulled about with a brush and a hot blower dried 
it. I was again combed and fussed with. It was taking so long, I was starting 
to get fidgety. Finally the barber stood back, admired his workmanship, and 
handed me a mirror. I couldn't believe it was me. My black hair was always 
long and stringy. Now it was all clean, combed and waved. It looked terrific. 
I looked terrific. When Bill saw me he smiled real wide and told me how 
handsome I was. 

      We then went to see Mr. Pierre.  Mr. Pierre took the draped tape measure 
from around his neck and started to measure me all over. "Tight in the crotch 
and remove all looseness in the seat," Bill ordered. Mr. Pierre  grunted his 
acknowledgment. He said he had several pairs of pants that might just fit me 
if we wanted to take them along until the custom tailoring was finished. He 
offered a couple of nicely styled pullover shirts I might also want to try on. 
I stripped to my waist. The shirts were real stylish. I liked them. I removed 
my pants and tried on the new ones that Mr. Pierre presented. They were a 
little long but Mr. Pierre made a couple of chalk marks and said he would 
tailor the cuffs right now, then he disappeared. I was standing in my shorts 
in front of the 3-way mirror. Bill and I were alone. "Drop your shorts." Bill 
said with a grin.. 
 
    I looked at my naked body, the three mirrors showing all sides of me. I 
was light brown and had a slim build. I liked my butt. My prick hung limp 
through my patch of dark hair, its tip hidden by its foreskin. My skin was 
fresh and smooth. My hair styling was perfect, accentuating my dark flashing 
eyes. I realized I was, indeed, very handsome. Bill got turned on, but edgy. 
"Hurry! Pull your shorts up before Jacques returns!" 

  

                             HOUSEBOY
    
                                3


     I said that Bill was a very important man in the food business. He 
sells to foreign governments. They buy trainloads at a time. One night, Bill 
sat down and had a talk with me about big business. He told me that lots of 
things were done in Washington politics to close big business deals. He said 
that big private business did the same thing. When big money was at stake, the 
prospective buyer was given anything he wanted. What pleased a lot of the 
buyers were young girls ...or young boys. 

     Bill said that a Japanese buyer was coming to San Francisco with a letter 
of credit worth millions. He asked that he be provided with a handsome young 
boy. Bill felt that if the buyer was treated right, his company would get the 
order. 

    "Over a million dollars?" I asked?

    "Try twenty million." said Bill.

   "WOW!" I said. "A TWENTY MILLION DOLLAR SALE?"

    This amount of money was impossible for me to imagine. Bill nodded. "And 
you, Carlos, could play a very important part in helping get this contract."  

   "Me? How?" 

    Bill spoke softly. "I want you to let him use your body. He likes boys." 
  
    I was stunned. I got angry. What I did with Bill was O.K. But, to let a 
stranger, mess around with me was unthinkable. I stamped to my room, slammed 
the door, and fell on my bed. My mind just couldn't put things together. As I 
cooled down, the twenty million dollars came to mind. Bill just might get 
another promotion, and look at the produce that would be bought, probably a 
lot around Fresno. With my help, the pickers would certainly get more work. I 
fell asleep thinking about it. 
   
     It was always my job to get up earlier and awaken Bill every morning. 
This morning, Bill was gently shaking me awake. I looked up to his smile. His 
hand reached under the covers. As always, I pulled down my shorts accepting 
his fondles. 

"Think any more of last night?" Bill asked?  

    "Yes! I'll do it," I replied. 

                                 .....


    The night Mr. Takashi arrived, I served dinner. Afterward, the two men
retired to the living room to discuss business. Later, my call bell was rung. 
I was on stage. The two men were sitting in comfortable chairs sipping after 
dinner liqueurs.

     "You called, sir?" 

     "Yes, Carlos. Mr. Takashi would like to see your naked body. Please
disrobe."
   
      As rehearsed, I did a slow motion striptease. I removed my shoes and 
socks and pulled my shirt over my head. I stepped out of my pants. Only   
tight white briefs covered my crotch. An outline of my stiff prick pushed
against its basket.  Mr. Takashi's eyes were glued to my body. 

     "I slowly dropped my briefs then approached Mr. Takashi."

     Mr. Takashi reached out, gently felt, fondled, and uncapped me. He gripped 
my waist and turned me. His fingers softly ran over my butt cheeks then moved 
slowly up and down my crack. He spread my cheeks and stared at my asshole.

    "Can we go to a bedroom?" he politely asked. 

     I took Mr. Takashi by the hand. Naked, I led him down the hall.  
  
     I hardly had time to crawl on the bed before Mr. Takishi was all over me. 
He spread me, turned me, bent me into every position so his tongue could reach 
everywhere, including my asshole. I'd not jacked off for two days as I wanted 
to have a real good load for him. He swallowed my all of my cum. If any 
splattered about, he licked it up immediately. He loved my butt. His finger 
was frequently in and out. 

    "I'm going to fuck you," he said. 

     I'd never been fucked because I'm too tight. People talk about Oriental
males, and their little "rice sticks." I was in luck. Mr. Takashi had a little 
oriental rice stick. I might have a little trouble but felt it would fit.
   
     I got my butt in the air in fuck position. Mr. Takashi lubed his prick 
and pushed against me. It was a bit uncomfortable but entrance was made. I 
wiggled my butt and made moan sounds which I hoped would please him. He
banged me until he came, then spent, he dropped to the bed and rested. 
 
    "Now, tie me up, gag me, tickle me, and whip me. Stop only when I
wiggle my fingers."

     I didn't want to do this. I didn't know how. What if I hurt him
too much? 
 
    I tied his hands, then his ankles, stuffing a pair of my dirty shorts
in his mouth. I tickled his feet, watching his short, naked body fight and 
squirm. Just for the hell of it, I ran my finger up his ass a couple of times
then resumed tickling.
 
     I could never cause anybody pain, but Mr. Takashi asked for it. I rolled 
him over, took off my belt and doubled it. There was fright in his eyes, but 
apparently fright he enjoyed. I brought the leather down on his wreathing butt
until it was glowing then, timing each stroke, criss-crossed his back leaving 
welt marks.
 
   Mr. Takashi was weakening. Finally his fingers wiggled. I untied him and 
let him rest. I went across the room, sat, and looked at him bewildered. I 
could not understand how some people enjoy this. 

      It was a good hour before he sat up. I felt real guilty as I helped him 
to the shower and gently washed his welts. He winced a lot as he dressed.  
Before he left, he came over, smiled, wrapped his arms around me, and cried. I 
didn't know what to think. I just held the hug until he finished crying. 

      Mr. Takashi reached in his pocket and brought out a small black box.  

     "It's for you."  "Open it!" 

      It was a beautiful expensive wrist watch. I was speechless. 

     "Thank you," Mr. Takashi said, bowing.
  
     Mr. Takashi walked painfully down the hall. I must have waited for
several hours before Bill flew in the room.

   "YOU DID IT! YOU MADE US RICHER!". 

      Bill never asked me to participate in another business deal and had
he, I would have refused.

      I stayed with Bill until I was out of college. Because of my part in 
this contract, Bill saw to it that I was well taken care of financially. We 
parted very good friends. I now live in Fresno, own my own farm, and have my 
own houseboy. To this day, I can't understand how Mr. Takashi received so
much pleasure from what I did. 
                                  

                                -THE END-