My Goth Pimp Night 9 justinnewjersey94@yahoo.com
Coming home drenched in piss, with a belly or ass full of cum, was getting to be a regular occurrence for Noah, and now Tristan too. Noah still had trouble reconciling his new life as a boy whore, working for the abusive, controlling pimp Xanthos. He still occasionally thought of his family upstate, but somehow the relative freedom afforded by Xanthos was preferable to his unbending father.
There was no doubt that Xanthos was a charismatic and compelling figure. Noah had never had a sexual experience with a guy before, and now that was his whole life. But most curious was making money having sex, and then feeling no compunction to turn over most of the money to a mean, sadistic twenty five year old who seemingly didn't do more than sift through on-line offers for Noah's services.
Then there was Tristan. Still another conundrum. Back at high school he would have seen Tristan as just another annoying, whiny emo. Obsessed with his hair and makeup. Probably a closet fag hanging out with girls he had no interest in. Noah had been the backup point guard on his high school's basketball team. He would never have imagined hanging out with an emo, let alone kissing one. And when and why had Noah started wearing skinny jeans?
He rationalized that the sex with guys was for money, and when he sucked off Xanthos (or worse) it was because this what his pimp wanted. Anyway, it was all temporary and Xanthos was scary and to be feared. His cock stirred as he lay in bed, spooning Tristan.
The emo felt it and whispered to Noah "Do you want to fuck me Noah?"
"Nah, just jerk me off. It's late." The emo did as he was told, and then gathered up Noah's cum, as was his want, and ate it off his fingers.
As usual, the household slept through most of the daylight. The boys had come out quietly to eat, wearing just the panties Xanthos wanted them to wear around the house, around 4:00 in the afternoon. Their pimp emerging from his room, naked, two hours later. He seemed particularly surly.
"I'm horny, and I want to fuck the new bitch." He pushed Tristan up against the brick kitchen wall, stroking the boy's bare arms. He forced his mouth on Tristan's, humping the boy as they stood together. The kissing was loud, wet, forceful, and mutually instigated. Xanthos long black hair completely enveloped the boy's face.
Noah retreated to the living room to give them space. "You fucking cheap little piece of ass" the pimp moaned. "You pretty little whore. Sometimes I want to hurt you. Other times I want to give you my cock as a wedding gift."
Noah was instantly inflamed. Wedding gift? He'd thought he was Xanthos number one piece of ass since the dismissal of the girl Winter. He'd been kind, welcoming and even affectionate to the new boy, and now their pimp was moving on from Noah, already? Maybe he'd been wrong about Tristan. Maybe the emo was a rival, a cheap little boy toy after the affections of Xanthos.
The pimp moaned with pleasure. Tristan had dropped to his knees and was sucking his pimp's pierced and tattooed cock like a new wife on her wedding night. Xanthos howled as he unleashed his cum in the boy's mouth. The emo sucked him dry and cleaned him off. For his reward the pimp slapped him viciously across the mouth. "Fucking faggot cocksucker. You sick little queer."
Noah scampered in, offering to make the pimp breakfast. Silenced prevailed after that, with all parties eating, then texting, and listening to music. Xanthos told Noah he wanted him between his legs for a while, and that the boy was to take the pimp's balls in his mouth, keeping them warm and wet. This went on for a half an hour while his pimp texted. Noah's blond and green hair gently falling on his pimp's upper legs.
Around ten they all showered and got dressed. Xanthos announced a party was to be attended tomorrow night, but this was to be a work night for the boys. He had two tricks lined up for each, $250 each time, a nice one grand cash cow for the pimp. Afterwards they were to stop by Draven's ink shop. Xanthos had some new ink in mind for Noah and he wanted Tristan's tits pierced.
The boys connected by phone and eventually met up about four in the morning near where Draven awaited. Both were sore from their tricks. Tristan had taken it up the ass twice and felt cum dribbling out and wetting the rear of his pink, lacy panties. Noah arrived wearing his tight black jeans, shirtless, his necklace from his pimp laying on his boyish chest. His mouth ached from hours of cock sucking.
Tristan pulled Noah into a doorway. "Listen, I don't know why he said that about me. I'm not out to take him away from you. You were with him first. He's your man, not mine. I'm happy when he wants me, but not if it hurts you.
Noah leaned in and kissed the emo boy. "Don't worry. We're in this together. He's not really in love with either of us. He's in love with himself, the money we make him, and our mouths and asses. I just want to stay with him as long as he'll let me, making him lots of money and take care of him and his cock. I know someday he won't want me anymore and I'll be replaced by you or some other kid."
They held hands and walked the short distance to see the punk Draven. He was blasting "Who Needs You" by the Orwells and brushing up his cocks comb. He had died it black now. "If it ain't the right fags!" Draven seemed happy to see the boys.
He knew he was to pierce both of Tristan's small, boy nipples. He put black plastic rings in each and allowed as how he hoped to be able to pierce the emo's cock head soon. Tristan shuddered and humored the crazy punk boy.
Turning his attentions to Noah, he told Tristan to lick his Doc Marten's while he inked up "your fag girlfriend". Draven applied ink to each of Noah's ten knuckles. On his left hand he put a C, an O, another C, a K, and an S. On the right knuckles he finished with a U, a C, a K, an E, and an R. It hurt but at least it was quick.
Kicking Tristan out of the way finally, he told Noah to take off his jeans and boots and lay on his stomach on the table. Over the next half hour he injected the boy's white skin with ink, spelling out the words "Boy" on Noah's left ass cheek, and "Pussy" on his right ass cheek.
Finally he shut everything down and sat back, lighting a joint. Pulling Tristan up by the hair, he blew his second hand pot smoke into the boy's mouth. "You know queer" he said addressing Noah, "I don't like you. I like your girlfriend here better. Your ass is stretched out already. Her pussy is still tight.
One time a faggot crossed me. I cut off his tit. It bled good. Faggot never had a second nipple again, mate. You should see the fuckin' freak. And he's proud of it, ay? Shows it off to people. Says 'a real man, a top man did this to me. Left his mark on me. Sick, huh?"
The punk smiled evilly at Noah who sat up, his arms crossed defensively across his flat white chest. Draven snapped his fingers at Noah, and motioned towards a wooden St. Andrew's cross that stood in the shadows in a corner. The punk quickly bound Noah into the four clasps, twisting his pierced nipple once he was done. Noah stood, spread eagle, his raised arms bound like his legs below.
To Tristan, he said, "I want you to watch while I fuck up your girlfriend." Draven grabbed a dirty tattoo rag and shoved it in Noah's mouth. He pulled off his white wife beater and searched the room for something. Finally, he spied a large dildo, and, pushing Noah forward at the waist, began the laborious act of jamming it into the boy's ass, virtually skewering him as he hung on the cross.
In rapid fire, he spit repeatedly in the boy's face, and then slammed a punch into Noah's mid section. The boy blacked out. Draven stood back admiring his handiwork, as his hard, defined six pack pulsed on his thin frame.
Reviving Noah with amyl nitrate under his nose, he stoppered the bottle and pulled out his switchblade from his tight, low rise tartan plaid punk trousers. "I outta cut you queer.
You like this shit too much, you sick, mother fucker." Draven slid the blade across the boy's chest, drawing tiny red lines. Oh how he wanted to cut him bad. Draven was mad with lust and anger. But he stopped every time he saw blood. Xanthos would not stand for his prime meat to be marked in this way.
He pushed the dildo further into the goth boy's ass, and twisted the kid's tits. He ran the blade of the knife across Noah's cock, and then ran the side of it against the boy's balls. Fully revived and excited by the poppers, Noah freaked at the thought that the crazed British punk would actually harm his junk.
Freaked with righteous anger, Draven turned on Tristan, punching him in the face. "You fucking faggots!" The emo collapsed at the punk's booted feet.
Draven grabbed a step ladder, placing it in front of Noah. He climbed the ladder, undoing his trousers and freeing his rigid cock. It stood out straight, all eight inches of it, giving off a strong, pungent odor of aggressive sexual power.
Sitting on the top of the ladder, he straddled the apparatus, anchoring his balance by inter twining his Doc Marten's in the rung below. Pulling the rag out of the teen's mouth, he grabbed Noah by his blond hair and pulled the boy's mouth onto his cock. Noah was berserk with fear as Draven held the switchblade against his neck, and the young whore swallowed the uncut monster, sucking cock perhaps literally for his life.
Draven came quickly, in a screaming rage, kicking Noah in the balls with his boots, nearly falling from the ladder. He jumped off. He kicked Tristan to revive him, and said "Get your faggot boyfriend out of my shop, quick, before I cut your pretty boy face.
Tristan undid the cuffs, grabbing Noah's boots and jeans, and helped the naked, sobbing, bleeding and retching boy out the door.
NEXT TIME: THE FINALE. A DARK GOTH PARTY TO REMEMBER!