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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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Jobs for the Homeless
Matt Thomas (matt_thomas88@yahoo.com)
***
A street-boy is trained to please men. (MM+/M-teen,
oral, anal, prost)
***
"How long have you been out her, son?"
I looked up into the face of a man in (I would guess)
his mid-to-late thirties. "Three months, sir. Can you
spare any change?"
It hadn't been a pleasant three months, living on the
streets, trying to get money for food, trying to get
hold of cardboard or an old coat or blanket to keep me
warm at night. I never seemed to be able to get a place
in a hostel, and I always had to fight to keep my
little corners to beg from and sleep in.
"I can spare you something much better than that. Why
don't you get up so I can have a proper look at you?"
Let me explain about myself. My name is Pete and I'm
18. I was thrown out of my home by my bastard parents
when I told them I was gay. When I left home, all I'd
done was a fumble with one mate and given a blow job to
another. I slept on friend's floors for a bit, but
people soon get fed up of having an extra body around.
Eventually, I decided to come to London to see if I
could get a job and support myself.
Bad mistake. No home equals no job. No job equals no
money. No money equals no food or home. I couldn't see
anyway out of it all.
I stood up. I've been told I'm quite good-looking.
Tall, thin, dark wavy hair, friendly grin. Mind you, I
was so used to being grimy and disheveled that I doubt
I looked like anything much. Still, the man gave me a
good look up and down, as though he was really admiring
me.
"Right," he said, "I can provide you with a comfortable
home, food, clothes and a hot bath. All things I would
guess you're desperate for."
They sounded very attractive, but I was suspicious.
"Why would you do that? What's in it for you? What's
the catch?"
The man put up his hand to stop me and smiled. "So many
questions! There's no catch. I just ask my guests to do
some little jobs round the place. Nothing too
stressful."
I was hooked, I had to admit. Maybe a little part of my
brain was screaming at me to be careful, but most of me
just wanted off the streets, especially as it was late
autumn and the temperatures at night had really started
dropping lately.
"That sounds okay," I said cautiously. "What happens if
I don't like it or I can't do the jobs?"
"You'll be free to go at anytime you want, I promise.
You're under no commitment to me at all."
Food, clothes, shelter, a hot bath - it all sounded too
good to be true, but they were things I was desperate
for.
"Okay," I said.
"So what's your name, son?"
"Pete."
"Good. I'm Francis. Come with me."
I followed the man.
We soon arrived at the entrance to some city centre
flats, where he punched a number into the keypad and
the door swung open. We took the lift to the sixth
floor. Francis opened a door and showed me what was
beyond. The room was luxurious - a huge bed, a settee,
a television with satellite receiver. And off the room
was a bathroom with a large bath in it. I turned to
Francis. "Is this like some sort of hotel?"
"Not exactly. Now, I want you to have a long bath and
clean yourself up. Have a look in the wardrobes,
there's bound to be something in your size that you'll
like. Then come and get some food - down to the fifth
floor and through the door marked dining Room."
He closed the door as I gaped round the room in wonder.
After a lovely bath, the first decent wash I've had in
three months, I looked through the wardrobes and the
drawers. There were incredible numbers of different
types of clothes (all top brand names) and they seemed
to all be in my size. Even the underwear drawers were
full of briefs, thongs, jockeys and boxer shorts all in
different colors and styles.
I put together a set of clothes, white Fruit of the
Loom briefs, white socks, grey Reebok tracksuit
bottoms, an Adidas T-shirt and a Nike sweater.
Dressed, I made my way out of the room and down to the
fifth floor, easily finding the Dining Room. Francis
was sat on a sofa reading a newspaper. He glanced up as
I arrived and smiled, before moving behind the counter
to dish out a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, fried
bread, toast, tomatoes, beans and hash browns.
"Cooked breakfast, okay?"
I nodded.
"Leave anything you don't like."
I have to admit I wolfed it down pretty quickly, always
aware of his watchful eye.
"Anyone ever told you you're a good-looking lad?"
I nodded as I polished off the latest of the sausage
and lay down my cutlery. "That was great - I cant
remember the last decent cooked meal I had."
Francis smiled again.
I leaned back in the chair.
"So, what are these jobs I have to do, then?"
"Cut straight to the chase. Yes, I like that. Okay,
what my guests do here is basically help me run a
brothel."
I shot out of my seat. "What?"
His hand came across and rested on my arm. "Just hear
me out a moment. You're gay, right?"
Guardedly, I answered: Yes.
"You like sex?"
"Yes."
"Like having money to buy things for yourself?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Fancy the idea of free accommodation for a very small
cut?"
"Ummm..." I sat down slowly. I was beginning to see
where he was going with this - and perhaps it wasn't
such a bad place. "How often would I have to do it?"
"Well, that depends on you, but clients here pay pretty
well, so probably no more than two or three times a
week. Unless you need extra money, of course," he
smiled.
That didn't sound so bad, I guess. And it had to better
than spending the winter out freezing on the streets.
"No commitments?" I asked.
"None," he replied. "You can walk out of here at any
time. It wouldn't do for my guests to be unhappy - the
clients soon recognize that.
"Okay," and I stuck out my hand. He shook it.
"Right, there's some training before I send you out to
do the job. So meet me in room 3 on the third floor
tomorrow at ten. You're free till then. Oh, and come
and get food from the kitchen (he indicated where it
was) anytime you're hungry."
I made my way back to my room. Training? Francis made
it sound like a career with job prospects and
promotions...
*****
The next morning I was at room 3 just before ten
o'clock. Francis arrived shortly after me, smiled and
unlocked the door. Inside was a just a small room with
a few chairs and another door beyond. Francis indicated
me to sit down.
"Okay, Pete, I need to explain how this training works.
Basically, it gives you a chance to learn how to
satisfy men, so they will pay the high levels we charge
here. It may seem a little strange to you at first, but
after a bit you'll understand how it will help you."
I nodded. He stood up and opened the inner door.
"Take your clothes off before you go through."
"Huh?"
"Well, you don't have sex with your clothes on, do you?
And don't worry about me being here - seen it all
before, many times. You'll soon get used to having your
kit off in front of people.
With slight reluctance I undressed and pied my clothes
on a chair. Francis led me through the door.
It was medium-sized room, plain except for the
contraption in the middle - the likes of which Id never
seen before. It was made out of various jointed
sections of metal, including a long middle section with
a hole at one end and four pieces of metal hinged out
from it, two near the top, two at the bottom. There
were various other smaller bits attached.
I looked at it, my jaw dropping, and then looked at
Francis.
What the fuck?
"This is our training device. It's very sophisticated
because it can be bent and rotated in various different
ways. He saw the uncomprehending look on my face. You
see, some of our clients aren't interested in bed or
foreplay or anything other than pure, unadulterated sex
- sticking their cock in a hole, if you like. Trainees
develop their skills by working with these customers,
learning how to satisfy them and adapt their own bodies
to serve others. This device helps you do that. Lie
down."
I lay face down on the metal and realized the four
hinged sections were for my arms and legs, the hole in
the long piece was for my cock and balls to hang
through. The long piece supported my neck but went no
further. Francis fastened a few loops over parts of my
body - purely to support me and keep me from falling,
he explained.
Francis continued, "During the next hour, some men will
come in - they're clients, but quite easygoing about
breaking in new talent. I want you to work out how to
accommodate them. Oh, and don't worry if they move
parts of the device - it'll just give you more chances
to try different positions out.
He patted my ass and walked away.
I wondered if I was doing the right thing getting
myself into this. Still, the thought of free board
seemed preferable to being on the street - I decided to
give it a go.
The door opened and a man walked in. He came straight
to my face, dropped his trousers and boxer shorts and
stuck his cock in my mouth. I can do this, I thought,
and began to suck and to tenderize his length with my
tongue.
He snorted and pulled out.
"Not just that - use your hands." He pressed a button
on a control panel and my arms started to bend round.
Eventually they ended up with my hands resting against
his buttocks. Oh, right. I could see what he meant. I
went back to trying to give him the best blow job I
could, all the time kneading his ass with my hands. I
became a little more daring after a bit and stuck my
tongue out to wash his balls. At the same time I
allowed a finger to trace delicately up and down his
ass crack. I could feel my cock begin to swell and was
glad that a hole had been left for it, otherwise it
would have been crushed.
I felt the man's cock begun to jerk and suddenly spurts
of spunk were shot into my mouth. I waited until he had
finished and then licked over the tip of his cock
before loosening my hold on it.
Pretty good blow job for a novice, he said, patting me
on the head. I grinned to myself: maybe my training
wouldn't be so bad.
Another man came in. He pressed a control and I felt
the long metal section bend so that I ended up as if on
all fours - with my ass point out behind me. Another
control moved the leg pieces so my thighs were widen
open. I began to feel worried. I really hadn't thought
about anyone fucking my ass. What if it really hurt?
I felt the man's cock against my sphincter, pushing
hard. Almost panicking now, I tried to clench my
buttocks as close together as I could in this position.
The man grunted and I could feel the effort he was
making to push inside. His cockhead began to gain
entrance and I let out a huge yell. He was killing me!
Splitting me in two! I begged him to stop. He pushed a
little further and then stopped and pulled out. I heard
a muttered complaint as he left.
Oh dear. I'd been so proud of my training after the
first man. Now I was an abject failure. Maybe I should
just ask to leave.
Another man came into the room. A control whined and
the device slowly collapsed back so I was flat again.
Another control and I was turning over as if on a spit.
I ended up facing the ceiling. A final control and my
legs bent over on top of me until I was almost folded
in half. Again my ass was exposed. The man walked up
to me and I again felt the pressure at my pucker. Again
I couldn't do anything and felt agonizing pain. The man
persisted a little longer than the previous one, but
soon withdrew what little head got in and left.
I heard the door open once more and the controls move
me back into the doggy position. Francis appeared in my
line of vision.
"You've got to learn to relax and open your ass up. You
won't have the pain and you'll find you can actually
enjoy it."
He walked round behind me and I felt his finger tracing
delicately up and down my ass crack. I began to wiggle
in appreciation. "That's better."
He began to draw smaller and smaller circles around my
pucker with his finger until he was resting gently on
it. I felt more relaxed than I had done before and
realized I had some control over those muscles. I
willed myself to relax them. His finger popped in
suddenly and I hardly felt a thing. All I had was a
great feeling of great relief and happiness. He eased
one and then two more fingers in.
"My, what a tight virgin butt you have, Grandmother,"
he said teasingly.
"All the better to eat you up with," I grinned back.
"I don't usually do this with my guests, but..." I felt
him remove his fingers and then something else was
resting against my asshole, waiting for an invitation.
I knew what I had to do and willed myself to relax
again. This time there was a little amount of pain as
his cock entered me, followed by a great deal of joy.
I never realized it felt so good.
Shit.
He began to rock backwards and forwards, gaining a
rhythm and pounding my ass. It was fantastic - like
heaven. Finally I felt him squirt great globules of
spunk into my as and then withdraw.
Francis came back into sight. "I don't usually do that
with guests, but you're... special," he kissed me
softly on the lips. Then he was gone.
Well, after that it was easy. I spent the next two
weeks in the device - an hour in the morning and an
hour in the afternoon. I learnt how different men try
to enter your mouth or your ass and how to make the job
easier and more pleasurable for both them and me. I was
fucked in many different positions, thanks to the
device: flat out with a man lying along me, doggy
position, flipped over and bent double, upside down and
horizontal - you name it, these men tried it, some
gently, some less so. I learnt how best to use my
hands, my tongue, my lips, my as - until I felt like an
old pro.
When I wasn't in the device I was mostly free to do
what I wished, although there was a rule that guests
should spend about an hour a day in the gym, just to
keep in shape.
Two weeks after I had arrived Francis took me to a
hairdressers and got my hair cut short and bleached
blond - I could hardly recognize myself in the mirror
(but secretly I thought it looked great). He took me
back to my room and talked me through the sorts of
clothes to wear when collecting clients: tight, figure-
hugging T-shirts or vests, tight black or white briefs,
tight white jeans or combats.
That evening he took me out to a gay pub and helped me
choose my first client. We came back to my room and
spent several hours with me giving him blowjobs or him
fucking me - and, in between, me exploring and playing
with his erogenous zones.
He paid very well - enough that I didn't have to worry
too soon about rushing out to get another client.
The next day Francis popped in.
"Well, Pete, I think I've got the makings of a first
class star in you. You realize, of course, that your
training is over."
My face fell, and he saw it.
"You really like working on the device, don't you?"
"Yeah. I love just concentrating on the sex without any
other distractions."
"Well, it doesn't pay as well, but I don't see why you
couldn't still put in your two hours twice a week."
"Three times and it's a deal!"
"Cheeky." He paused. "Okay. You're too special for me
to be messing you around." He patted me on the ass and
then kissed me and left.
Not The End...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 63