How to Create a Fuckboy

Sadly, the summer had to come to an end. And with it all those wonderful, profitable trips to the beach. A couple days after Labor Day, Fuckboy was back on the bus heading off to fourth grade. He knew he had to buckle down if he wanted to keep up his grades and still keep the business going each night. Weekends of course would now be very busy, with overnights both Friday and Saturday, as well as a full schedule of johns from noon to midnight Saturday and Sunday.

Some things didn't change however. Carson still brought the weed each week. Jennings brought his nuts. Becker brought his darling wife. And Mrs. Becker always brought goodies: homemade muffins or blondies or cupcakes. Fuckboy had lots to look forward to.

On Friday September 14, we were eating a quick supper before Fuckboy had to get ready for his six o'clock. "How do you like school this year?" I asked.

"It's pretty good, Sir. I'm sure glad I ain't in Harrison's class no more."

"You mean Little Petey with the little peter?" Fuckboy almost choked laughing.

Vera asked, "Why were you late coming home on Tuesday and Thursday, Honey? Did you miss the bus?"

"No, Bitch. My gym teacher lets me stay after school." He turned to me. "I hope that's ok, Sir."

Vera went on, "I thought you didn't like gym, Honey."

"I didn't last year because the kids all called me a spaz but Mr. Marks, my new gym teacher, don't allow them to tease nobody. He's real strong with lotsa muscles. All the boys do what he say. He helps me. When I gotta bat he holds me round my arms and helps me hit the ball. When I gotta do situps he holds me behind my back and helps me do it. And he lets me stay after school for extra help."

Vera was listening intently. I expect she was thinking Marks sounded like another fuckin pedo. I thought so too but not like Little Petey. Marks sounded to me like a guy who didn't take guff from anyone and if he fuckin wanted to have his way with a lad, then he fuckin would!

I decided to delve further. "And do you always do what he says?"

"Yes Sir."

"What if Marks told you to do something I wouldn't like you to do, Fuckboy. Would you obey him or me."

"I obey you, Sir. But he don't make me do nothing you don't make me do."

"Really?"

"Yes Sir."

Vera couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Honey, when you're alone with Mr. Marks after school, does he ever touch you? You know in your private parts?" Ha! Those parts haven't been all that private in recent months, but Fuckboy knew what she meant.

"Yes, Vera. But Uncle say it's ok for men to touch me there, right Uncle?"

I needed specifics. "Well, let's see, Fuckboy. Do you also touch Marks's cock?"

"Yes Sir. You told me to touch men's cocks if they want."

"And do you suck his cock?"

"He asked me yesterday and I said ok and I did it. He liked it Sir."

Vera was beside herself. "And did the pervert creep fuck you, Darling?"

"No, Vera, not yet." He turned to me. "Sir, did I do something bad?"

"Well, not exactly bad, Fuckboy, but your head is just a little mixed up. You see your Uncle must choose the men who put their cocks in you. I'm here to protect you. You should never let men do that unless I know about it first. Ain't that right Vera?" What could she say, of course she agreed.

"Gee, I'm sorry, Sir. Next week I'll tell Mr. Marks you said not to suck him."

"No, Fuckboy, you better let me handle this."

Saturday morning, I had him draw me a map of where Marks's office was off the gym and the supply closet where he did the dirty.

That night, Harrington came by. My sister hated all of our clients, but for her money, Harrington was the worst. Certainly, the most perverted. He insisted on having her present as he fucked her baby, and Fuckboy and I always give the customer what he wants. The scenario grew more heinous with each visit. This time, he made Fuckboy pretend he was getting raped. The kid's a great actor! He appealed to the bitch, "Mommy, Mommy, please make him stop. He's hurting me. Mommy, please do something to make him stop!" Vera also played her part well, trying to pull the beast away from her boy, except for her it wasn't acting. Harrington laughed at her, spit in her face, pushed her to the floor, kicked her, and all the while continued his assault on her precious child's eight-year old asshole. When Harrington pulled out, he took the juicy condom, bent over her as she lay on the floor, forced her mouth open, and dumped the contents down her throat. He gave her one last kick, laughed and left.

"OK, Bitch," Fuckboy told her. "He's gone. Your part is done. Get on out of here. Washington is coming soon and he don't want to look at your fat ass." Fuckboy also laughed, eerily similar to Harrington. Poor Vera slumped away. She couldn't protect her boy even in pretend.

On Tuesday, I arrived at school about 20 minutes after the buses had left. I stood outside the gym and saw Marks helping the Fuckboy shoot hoops. His light brown hair had a Marine-style crewcut. His six foot frame was all well toned muscle. His voice was soft but authoritative.

When they walked into Marks's office I went into the gym and listened at the door. Sounded like kissing and quiet talking. Marks was a smooth operator and I actually found myself admiring his technique. Then the voices got softer and I knew they had gone into the supply closet. A room full of balls and mitts and nets and bats. But the bat Marks wanted Fuckboy to work on was the one he kept between his legs. I slipped into the office and got my camera ready. Marks had failed to close the supply closet door completely. He'd gotten too comfortable, assuming no one would ever catch him in the act. I waited until I knew the blow job was well under way and quietly opened the door. Neither one saw me; Marks's eyes were closed and his mind was miles away. The boy's head was buried in the man's pubes. I took several pictures.

Suddenly, Marks opened his eyes. "Oh, Shit! Who are you?" He started backing away from Fuckboy.

"That's my Uncle, Mr. Marks."

I extended my hand, but he reached down to pull up his shorts. I planted my foot on them. "Oh, no, don't pull them up. I don't think you were finished yet. Tommy, was Mr. Marks finished?"

"No Sir. He didn't cum yet."

Marks looked at the Fuckboy, then at me, then at him again. "What is this, some kind of setup?"

"It sure is, Marks." I smiled. "And you're the one who set it up. You conned this poor innocent child who thought you were only going to help him with his basketball throw. You took advantage of his naïveté."

"What do you want from me?"

I pulled out a paper. "This is a bill for last Tuesday and Thursday and for today's session. We don't normally take credit, so from now on Tommy will be expecting immediate payment."

"You're pimping the boy!"

"Oh, so it's ok for you to fuck little kids as long as the kids don't profit from it?"

"Now, look, I never fucked a boy."

"So you're strictly oral. That's fine. You'll still pay the price for a fuck whether you use it or not."

"This is blackmail."

"Speaking of fucks, I'd like to get a few more pictures before we finish." Marks had gone limp with a two foot string of mucous precum hanging from his piss slit. "What's the matter, Marks, you don't seem to be in the mood. Well, no matter, on the camera it'll look like a fuck anyway. Tommy, take your shorts off. Now, back that sweet ass into Marks's dick. No, Tommy, don't smile. Look confused. That's better." I got a few good shots.

"Now, Marks, I guess you'll have to save your jizz for a couple days. I expect next time you'll be more capable of completing the task. Tommy, you can get dressed. Marks, it's good doing business with you. Oh, by the way, Tommy's loving mother expects him to get A's in gym this year. I'm sure you have no objection."

"Bye, Mr. Marks!" Fuckboy called out smiling. "See you on Thursday!" He took my hand and went skipping out the door.

All year, Marks faithfully paid Fuckboy twice a week. He never did go anal. No matter. Fuckboy did swallow gallons of jock juice and ended up getting A's in gym.

Next: The Movie