Note from PJ: This is 30 pages long, is part of a continuing story. Only the last eight pages confine themselves to graphic sex. I like writing about these two men, hope you will enjoy their continuing adventures in The Big Easy during the depression. Much of what is written about is based on reality. What part might that be? Well, as you read along you may have an instinct as to what, who, where, why and….yes, the last eight pages are loosely based on a personal experience. Again, I hope you’ll find this entertaining, diverting and adds to your enjoyment of the written word. PJ
There was the sound of a door opening and closing, one pair of feet walked, the other shuffled. Ace and I looked up from our coffee, our papers…..
“What’s that?”
“Sam, grabbed him just as they was gonna shove him in the Maria, stupid fool, trying to turn a trick by the streetcar stop….”
“Like that?”
“Kid, tell the gentlemen how much you asked for…..”
He mumbled a number or something. Billy popped him on his head.”Speak up, they ain’t deaf, how much…?”
“Dollar….”
We all looked at each other then felt the laughter come up and explode. What would any of us do for a dollar? The answer was so easy: nothing. To me, to Ace, to Billy, a buck was a minimal tip for someone who did something, it was ‘thanks’ without saying thanks.
I looked at Sam and was back in Chicago, seeing the lines of men waiting for soup or whatever you stood in line for. His shoes had to be lined with paper, cardboard if he was lucky. Nothing fit, may have once but without his clothes I would have bet he was an anatomy lesson, like the charts of bones in the doctor’s offices. He seemed not to belong where he was now….well, if they’d brought an alligator from the bayou, at least it would have seemed more….local.
“What’d you give for him?”
“Slipped the cop a fiver, real grateful, probably coulda had all the bums in there for ten….” In that year in that place I wondered what a five dollar bill would mean to a cop? Probably more than it meant to any of us, A fiver barely made it into the category of walking around money. So Sam cost five, what was he good for? Dirty? For a dollar, did Billy think we’d fuck him then let him go?
“I got him for Junior, I can do a passle of things, but I can’t do ’em all and chase him plus keep him out of my pants everytime I stop moving. This here is what every polite young white man of quality has: A tutor and a companion. He’s real smart, even got the cops to give me his books ‘n all. Goes to some school. Tell ’em son.”
He was so frightened, this big black man had bought him from a cop and now….he saw two men all dressed in white, lounging, looking at him, laughing when he said he’d wanted a dollar for his tail. Well, it was laughable, even a hooker on the stroll got better than a dollar. “Tulane, Sir….Tulane I’m a medical student…least ways when I can afford it.” Which had probably been some little while in the past…..
“Come here, son….:”
“Jack, no, he, uh, smells. I’ll take him away and haul him back when he’s clean; Come on Sam, you’re goin’ with me.”
Ace looked at me. “I guess you got what every white boy of quality needs, a tutor and a companion.” Then started laughing again. “A dollar, Jesus, these are hard times. ” Apparently he put Sam out of his mind and resumed reading the Times-Picayune sports section. “Hey, there’s a gray gelding running in the fourth….wanna go to the track and see who’s there and see if this handicapper is on the money?”
I had the morning line from some tip sheets Billy had brought up with our coffee. “Nah, never bet on anything that doesn’t have balls, you should know that….” and we both chortled. I reached down to pull mine out. “How much would I get if I didn’t have these?”
Our entrance to society in New Orleans had been quite a success if a sudden one. Henri Bourbon, to keep up his access to Billy’s cock and my blow jobs, necssitated he invited us to his home where we’d met his family as well as more of the local gentry, charmed them and were further invited to their homes. Jack would play Bridge with the parents, or perhaps poker with the father and some of his friends. Going to the track almost guaranteed we’d find some of our new friends, bored as we ourselves were supposed to be, wasting time and money on horses never destined for much more than what Jack called “The Plug Circuit”; Next week we could see the same lackluster horse flesh in Birmingham or upstate in a city on the border with Texas that was said to be wide open. I asked what ‘wide open’ meant and was told it meant to stay away, honest whores wouldn’t be real welcome and we were honest whores. Or, another term for us, sporting men; They weren’t much welcome either.
On the theory that I might to want to know a few of his more intimate friends, Henri put together a few soirees-the way they said private parties in New Orleans-for a few select gentlemen of quality that, he thought, might have some similar interests to ours. Indeed, so concerned was he about me that it was suggested that Williams accompany me to make certain the other gentlemen were satisfied. How could I say no? Some had tutors that were just a version of ‘sporting men’ who anyone could fuck but then there were others, my Williams for example, who was only with me and saw to it that I was protected. Not from being sexually used, but from undesirables or their sporting men.
Of course there was Williams himself; Few of them could handle his size and for a consideration, I’d show the group how easily I impaled myself on his black horse dick then road it until we moaned and came. Some soirees were more tiring than others.
The delicious shock to these male hot house flowers of seeing a white man take a loaf sized black cock was worth the price of admission and to be stuck with it themselves (few of them could even get his cock head in but it was the idea of the action)…if I heard one more time. “If my daddy ever found out I did that, why, I don’t know what he’d a do to me?” I did and in the case of some daddies, they’d probably look Williams up to verity, by demonstration, just what his kid said.
Of course, it was beneath me to collect any money, Williams did that, or accepted the sterling cigarette boxes-or whatever (which we returned) filled with cash. Did someone step outside for a few moments? Did they return only slightly disheveled? It was blamed on humidity and the squeaky swing on the verandah. Everyone there was gay or willing to take it in the ass plus some other diversions. I got paid as, being from the North, I was found to know things they did not so monies paid to me were the equivalent of an honorarium paid to a visiting professor.If anything, the oh so polite gentlemen were hotter than Henri and, according Billy, sorry, Williams, a lot kinkier than I knew. Yet.
Back at the hotel Jack had made other friends at the bar that sold alcoholic coffee, in the lobby having an alcohol laced coffee and, of course, in the gossipy way that was the stuff of guaranteeing veracity, our friends, now both in town and elsewhere, were assured as to the very quality, breeding and gentility of the Messrs Frame and their man. Cards of introduction were left in our mail box at the front desk which, when read, were held up in front of an assistant manager who, smiling, would nod or shake his head. Best to have this assurance up front.
Also, Jones, who may have recovered, was used as another friend of the family. We, after all, could speak eloquently of time spent with him at the stud. Jones said, on advice from some source, he was pleased we’d enjoyed ourselves but, he was sure we’d understand, he never, ever came to town. But guaranteed us as well bred, if Northeners. Certainly, adding to someone, he’d visited our estate in Chicago where we, too, kept blooded mounts just for our own pleasure riding about something called Hinsdale. Nice to know where we lived….so far from the second floor walk up and the tattoo parlor. Jack said, no matter how we lived now to never, ever forget that and remember I had a great man, better than all this swishy trash, for a father who actually worked. He’d end up by saying I should have that tattooed on my heart.
Each of us had calling cards, mine, instead of Junior, said “Minor”, very chic, engraved on vellum so thick one could almost cut their thumb on the raised letters and, of course, a card case, Ace’s built into his interior wallet, mine, more casually, carried by Williams along with money…..should I need any which I seldom did. Things in your pockets spoiled the line of well cut, close cut pants.
Young gentleman of society did not carry cash except to wager at the track or at a table with friends for poker; Jack was an expert player-I was pretty fair myself-more so than the locals, even some of the sharper ones. But, of course, he was careful; This wasn’t where we made our big money so it was always a friendly game. One thing he taught me, and it was good advice, never play with someone who’s only a good winner; The track offered examples of those who were not aqnd easily identifiable as such as you watched them tear up losing tickets and turn the color of eggplants.
Ace, Billy and I played poker as a learning experience for me and practice for them. Didn’t take long for me to spot a ‘hot’ deck as well as pull as pretty a hand as you might see, a royal flush. Under deal, side deal, dexterity was important and, often when I had nothing to do-which in New Orleans was increasingly too often-I’d sit around, naked, practicing shuffling using my cock and balls as the other players at the table; Cheat? Find my cock with four aces when I had two and….well, many good/bad things could happen to a naughty cock….Jack was teaching me how to painfully do up my nuts and dick with string, rope, whatever could be tied and, at one soiree, that knowledge had proved useful. Like my Dad in Chicago, nothing Jack ever taught me was without purpose when put into practice which, not infrequently, was sooner than I might have expected.
All of this was fine, well, sort of. Jack and I were used to a little more action than the Big Easy was prone to show. Even Billy was yawning in his kid gloves when he opened the door for us as we exited the car and, now, also courtesy Mr. Jones, we had Albert who drove us with Williams along to see we were comfortable. We were….and bored stupid.
Billy came back in, his sleeves rolled up, water spatters on his shirt. “Well, he’s clean but that’s not all he is, he’s a virgin. Who wants him? I pretty much think I’m out of the running, my club would crack him if it didn’t scare him to death first so…Ace? Deuce?, I’ll bring him in so you can talk to him, nice youngster, just scared shitless.”
“Yeah? Well any man who hustles tail for a buck should be scared shitless….and a lot more but….I like the idea of you having a tutor, you’re smart but some more book learning would help you, some day these people are going to talk about something and you won’t know….can’t know everything but some names, things, places you should have heard of. Yes, I think a tutor is a good thing and, like Billy said, he’ll be a companion to you…once we’ve wised him up.”
I smiled. Hadn’t been had a virgin in a very long time….fuck, I didn’t even remember if being a virgin felt like anything but I do remember losing it. Some memories are forever. But being a virgin? No point in it, none at all. Sam, or whatever we decided to call him, needed to be taken to the edge of pleasure even if, now, he didn’t know what that might be.
Billy hustled in with something wrapped, toe to neck, in a bed sheet shivering whether from fright or chill but chill? In New Orleans? No. That left fright. “Well, he’s clean.” In a move Sam couldn’t have expected, Billy pulled the sheet unwinding him, leaving him naked and on the floor giving us the complete view of what five dollars, given to a cop, bought. Like gentlemen selecting new marble for the entrance hall Ace and I raised our heads and looked down.
“Looks healthy, not as thin as I was worried he’d be. Stand up, come over here, son, give me a look see.” And to Billy; Where’s his clothes?”
“Down the incinerator, nothing was going to get that mess of rags clean. And the smell…hey, if he’d attracted business, within five feet he’d lose a sale.”
Even though his back was to me I could see he was standing in front of ‘Dad’ with his hands crossed over this crotch, typical for a virgin although, if they thought it through, it was the rear entry that they needed to worry about. Jack took it very slowly, very kindly.
“Sam, no reason to worry, we’re not going to hurt you, beat you although my son will take your cherry at some point, just to make you part of the family business. Now, loosen those hands and show me your money maker.”
He had a good ass, nice, curved down into his good thighs, strong calves, better than I’d expected-probably the result of a great deal of walking. Jack looked at him then up at Billy; Sort of a surprize, gotta say. “Hey, Deuce, your tutor has a good set on him, low hangers, good cock…just has to learn how to play the game. Here, look for yourself.” Turned him toward me. I had never seen anyone blush all the way from his toes to his hairline but he did and, in a way, it was kind of endearing…Sam had a good looking face, slightly time toughened, particularly where the bruises, probably from street fights, discolored his otherwise good skin.
Billy had a question.
“All white boy? No quadroon, octoroon?” That got a rise.
“Tulane doesn’t take nig…” Billy half smiled, “It’s okay Sam, I’ve heard the word, but we don’t use it ‘cept to describe some low class people, colour don’t matter.” He hung his head. I scooted around then patted a spot next to me.
“Well, Billy, maybe we should send you out on a recruiting mission, get us a string of whores working so Deuce can just do his few friends and drink Champagne.” Jack snorted at that idea. But I was curious.
“Yeah, Billy, why’d you pick this one?”
“The books. I could tell he’d read ’em and I knew about young gentleman needed a tutor and a companion….just a spur of the moment, like making a last minute bet that you hope comes in, something about him….”
Jack stood up, came over and that filled out the couch. “Sam, Jesus we gotta change that name, do you know what you were doing at that streetcar stop? Ever done that before?” Since he hadn’t raised his head, he couldn’t lower it.
“Heard….I heard if you stood there a man might offer you a dollar to….”
“To?”
“Sir, please, I was real hungry…” Jack snapped back to reality and away from interviewing my new tutor.
“Shit. Kid, you ate at all?” I think we all knew the answer but the questions had to be asked.
He almost whispered. “No sir…..been a while.” Jack got up, pawed around through some things on a card table, produced a room service menu, handed it to him and said one word. “Anything”.
I thought of the song, ‘Barney Google, and his goo, goo googly eyes….’ Google eyed was what Sam was. We waited while he held the menu, didn’t seem to look at it…probably the idea of ‘anything’ was beyond his imaginings or fear of ordering more than he thought he should. “Oh for Christ’s sake, Billy, call Fred, get a full English breakfast, coffee, juice and two bottle of Veuve Cliquot.” He looked at me and chortled, “Baby hasn’t has his morning bottle…”
I smiled, Ace kidded me about my enjoyment of Champagne which, I was quick to point out, didn’t get you as drunk as alcohol and tasted better. Billy and Ace had always just snorted at that adding that one day I’d find liquor would have a place in my life, if only to calm someone. I looked at Sam….he needed calming and then there was that name….
“You from here, son?”
“No, Sir, Opelousas, West of here, near Lafayette” Okay, considering probably only Billy knew where that was it was pointless information. It also meant that there was little chance he knew anyone of our social ‘set’. The next question, however, had a meaning and a reason behind it that Sam wouldn’t understand. “Family there?”
Sam hung his head again. Billy reached into a closet and took out my duster coat I sometimes wore in the open car and put it around him, maybe covered he’d be more comfortable. “Not anymore… after Dad went to Mandeville, Mom went to her sister’s in California…my brothers in the Navy…” Billy added an explanation. “Mandeville is a state prison. What’d he do, son?”
“Stole some groceries and they said some money but Dad…it was for us…” It was a story that was all too familiar to me. Even at my age, even back in Chicago, I heard about men who stole to feed their families, got caught, sent to prison….my Dad said he’d work 24 hours a day and we would never be hungry, never be without a roof over out heads.
I thought about what I’d seen from the train coming South as we went through the slums of Chicago….I didn’t know they existed, thought we lived, well, not in a slum but it was hardly the sort of neighborhood you chose because you liked it.
Dad was thrifty, he made good on his word, we never were hungry, always had a decent place to live, I went to school, had clothes, not many but clean, leather shoes that didn’t have paper or cardboard in them; From the train I’d seen how good I’d had it. Looking at Sam, hearing his story, well, I figured he was going to be a good tutor. Probably could teach me things and….I’d educate him as well, just the way I wanted him. He would be an addition to the ‘soirees’ where other young men brought their tutors. Mine, I, decided, would not only look better but be better….in ways he, as yet, was unaware. Yep, I had a good idea that was likely to bring in a pleasant rain of money; Sam had a pretty good body and I kept mine in shape as well; Once he had the basics, I felt sure Henri, or one of the soiree gentlemen would enjoy a double fuck…particularly if some bet they couldn’t take it. Looking at Sam’s cock,….yep, we could easily do a double fuck.
Jack laughed, can’t take him shopping like that; “Billy, figure out what sizes he is and go shopping. Fill at least, well, you know, two cases for home, whatever a tutor in a fine family-and laughed-wore plus traveling clothes. Just remember, he represents us so he has to look good.” He opened the door to leave just as room service appeared.
It was Fred, our usual waiter, smiling. happy, pushing the trolley….a little taken back to see Sam in a long coat and nothing else, stared at him. “He fell in the bath tub.” I didn’t know what else to say and it did offer an explanation as to his situation. Fred set up the table, got a chair and looked about for the person to seat. I pushed Sam and reluctantly he quietly took the chair Fred held for him then took the cover off his food and you could see Sam almost close his eyes at the smell. He wasted no time eating.
Fred, from under the trolley, brought an iced Champagne bucket with the bottle already in it and chilled. Got it open, took two flutes from the credenza, poured it out, handed one to me, Jack the other in addition to a card to be signed, got it back along with a fiver. “Anything else, gentlemen?” There being nothing else, he let himself out.
Fred had been a virgin, I know that as I had turned him out, was his first fuck, seeing how well we lived, he asked what he needed to do? Well, he got his answer and, since then, smiled a lot more. I knew Jack had a purpose for him, I just wasn’t sure….yet. I did know he was getting comfortable with some basic sex by letting other hotel guests give him lessons and while he couldn’t charge for what they did, the next time he brought something from room service, his gratuity was substantial and may have included other services……
He reported to me or Jack what he’d learned and knew about our fellow guests; What we learned was that some of the other hotel guests needed lessons themselves.While we could not do anything to further their knowledge, what we could do was work with Fred-as well as his room mate, Brace, also a room service waiter-to the point that they could, to very carefully selected patrons, offer another card of services along with the menu. As friends of the family, the two of them were able to produce exactly what we wanted, everything from, gratis (free sounds too…beneath us), extra bottles of Champagne to information about guests in the house as well as staff; Who ever said knowledge is power was right.
I mentioned an assistant manage who verified calling cards as being good or forgetable, Mathew by name, Fred had led him to me for a gentle screwing. For all that he genuinely enjoyed it, a gentle fuck was as much as he could take, but that opened not only his ass but his mouth which runneth over with what and who he knew. Additionally, his mouth was very talented plus came equipped with a tongue of extraordinary length and proportion; One needn’t make every dollar at the back door and he was the proof.
He had once been part of a prominent family, exactly like the ones we were meeting, until his father, a banker, took deposits and kept them. In disgrace, his family left town to go to some back water town far away; Ft. Worth was mentioned, where no one would know them.
Mathew, however, wasn’t known so wasn’t associated with the mess his father had created and liked his home town. One of the owners of the hotel, out of kindness, found him a job, first in the kitchen, but recognizing his social skills put him at the front desk and then as an assistant manager; We were not the only ones utilizing his memory of who was whom and what was what. It was said young Mathew stopped ‘situations’ before they started just by knowing who was likely to instigate situations. Jack, who was the first of our ‘family’ to fuck him said that he had real possibilities, just of a different sort. I wondered what sort of plan Jack had but knew I’d be told when I needed to know. He was a truly gentle man so fucking him in a subtle, quiet way was both a pleasure and a reminder that not every one took it up the ass as I did and the bigger and rougher the better wasn’t always the best way. Mathew was good to spend the night with, to cuddle and, with some slight instruction, developed that very talented tongue. Without realizing it, I was spending more nights with Mathew than Jack; Actually, on a busy night, I’d have part of the hotel staff as Brace and Jeff would join us. No orgy but just young men, comfortable with one another, sleeping and if you woke up and wanted something….there was always someone to provide it.
Apparently it was going to be a busy morning;The doorbell rang and, since Billy, sorry, Williams was out, Jack answered. What he found was another assistant manager with a black woman dressed like a maid, gray dress, white apron, cuffs and cap worn under a hat. She got her speech in before the man could speak.
“I been telling this piece of…that I’m Venetia, Albert’s wife, your cook that the ole fool left me and my things….” She dropped a carpet bag full of what must have been cast iron. Had she hit anyone, even a horse, with it, they’d be taken out permanently.
In our line of work you had to adapt very quickly to a situation about which you might know….nothing. I vaguely remembered her as the kind lady who’d brought as food at Jone’s place saying there were pain pills under a saucer. Jack smiled. “It’s fine, sorry, Venetia…didn’t mean to leave you…you must have been in the pantry…”
Her answer was to pick up the bag, give the assistant manager a dirty look and advance on Sam where she picked up a piece of bacon, gave it a look of disdain then announced she’d go down to the kitchen and give cooking lessons. She dropped her bag again leaving me to hope whoever was below us wasn’t in their rooms just then. The assistant manager mumbled something about anything else as he closed the door. Thick walls so we didn’t hear him run down the hallway.
“Albert said you needed a couple so I’m the other half. Where is that shiftlfess nig……”
“Out with Billy.” She turned her attention Sam.
“What’s this? And what’s that mess he’s eating?”
“That’s Sam, it’s an English Breakfast…”
She may have meant well but…she got hold of the coat, gave it a yank which left Sam half naked at the table with a black lady holding half a coat in one hand and a piece of his bacon in the other.
“Needs fattenin’ up, can’t even fuck him scrawny as he is….and what’s this shit about English whatever? We don’t do no English in New Orleans, he needs grits, ham and red eye gravy.” I could see the tears in his eyes as he stared at the food now, apparently, to be taken away. Jack took up Sam’s side.
“Uh, Venetia, the kid is starving, Billy bought him from a cop for a fiver and brought him here so…just for now, let him eat. Please.”
She dropped his coat, which still contained Sam so he, once again, was in front of food; I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d picked up a plate and run with it.
“Billy bought this piece a low counntry trash for five bucks? From a cop? Say, is he and Albert out drinkin’ cuz if they is…..” Somehow I figured her relationship to Albert was more than just former employees at the Jones place.
I wondered how many more ‘staff’ we were going to get? Some of the homes where we’d been entertained had servants everywhere doing…I never could quite figure out but there was a lot of them; In one place I’d seen at least two maids do nothing but carry arrangements of flowers about, never seemed to put them down, just carried them….. that we were suddenly quality I guess we were going to have more people doing even less than we did ourselves.
Jack sprang into gentleman mode and offered her a drink..or a glass of Champagne. She was a suddenly different woman. Smiled, found a water goblet, filled it with Champagne and sat down beside me on the divan then looked at me. “He needs some feedin’ up, too. I know what he do but down here we like a little meat, I’m a feather bed woman myself.” Only swallowing the contents of the glass stopped her speaking.
“Always did like you folks, that mess down there….” She made a gesture that indicated all the events of some weeks ago, filled her glass again, stood up, went to the door, got two more bags, ones that didn’t clank, then sat back down. “Well, where’s my man and that other big black snake?”
Jack covered that one while Venetia and I finished off the first bottle; her drinking, not sipping, from a water goblet got it done faster. Sensing this was going to be a full day I shifted around, found the other bottle under the trolley but had it taken from my hands by Venetia.
“White folk don’t do any work lessen there’s nobody else to do it.”
This demonstrated her tacit understanding that while we were white, we’d only recently ascended to being quality white, well connected with other white people which made part of her job was making sure we understood that our work consisted of picking up a deck of cards or standing still while a coat was put on us but…not much else.( It was nice to know I would be allowed to feed myself…) If you were born to indolence, this was easy and natural but Jack and I were not and indolence was going to be hard, we could do it, but it would be challenging.
Having dispensed this bit of Southern etiquette she wrapped the Champagne in a napkin, aimed the cork at a wall and gracefully got it out without so much as a pop. “Now,that’s how you open a bottle.” Filled our glasses and sat back down.
She sat too soon; Again the doorbell. In her maid’s uniform (She’d remmoved her hat) she answered, had some conversation, closed it then came back to us announcing that the men were here with the pictures. Jack brightened, told her to let them in.
There were two large wooden frames surrounding carefully wrapped….something. The men took out claw hammers, opened the wood frames, took out the contents of each then unwrapped the padding that surrounded two portraits. We all looked at them.
“Who are they?” Seemed a good question but one Jack did not answer until the delivery people were scooted out the door, each smiling, holding a five dollar bill.
“Deuce, Venetia, Sam, I want you to meet some of our family. The lovely lady is, of course, my late wife and your mother, died, you’ll recall, in childbirth. The distinguished gentleman is her father, you can see from his uniform that he was a General for the Confederacy in the Civil War.” He paused while we paused to look at mother and grandfather. “When we go North, have to trade him in on something Yankee…maybe the Spanish American conflict? Maybe with ‘Teddy at San Juan Hill?”
Venetia took a handkerchef from beneath her lace cuff, dabbed her eyes and put it back. “Lovely lady, yes Sir, Mr. Jack, every time I hear you speak of, uh..”
“Marianna? That sound good?”
“…Miss Marianna, well, it brings a tear to my eye. But you have this fine young man….:” It sounded more like a rehearsal than something she meant but I followed her lead, went to Ace, put an arm around him, “Dad, I feel guilty at least a little, her death and all.”
Sam spoke up. “Sir, that’s not a confederate uniform, that’s a cavalry uniform, I don’t know, maybe 1880? but not the Civil war.”
“Well, right there, he earned back that fiver he cost. Could have made a mistake now we know better. What rank is he? Something good, I hope?”
“Full Colonel.” We all smiled and memorized, ‘the Colonel’. Sam, fascinated by this quick drama of making up history, almost forgot he was still hungry. Venetia opened the bag on the floor and showed us a large, black skillet.
“Cast Iron, seasoned for years, now this is for good cookin’” She and I clicked our glasses, Jack smiled at the gold framed portraits and Sam went back to eating. The morning was going well.
Albert, who had been driving Billy while he shopped-this only worked as it was clear Billy was the Major Domo in a fine home and was entitled to sit in the back….when the family was not present hauled a stack of boxes, few sacks in plus Billy carrying a small sack but, I presumed, some high dollar merchandise.
Our ‘staff’, Billy, Albert and Venetia, opened all this in another room taking Sam with them. Our first look at my ‘tutor’ was of him in a toast colored sack suit, the usual very light weight perforated beige shoes, cuffs that needed links, gold ones, a fine cotton shirt, Herbert Hoover collar, and on his face…spectacles. As presented to us, he was carrying a book which made him look like a well educated young man, easily the tutor to a fine family. Turned out, cleaned up and tricked out, Sam was actually quite nice looking; Once he had a little more confidence, he’d be handsome.
Billy explained his new life story to Sam, the one eliminating a father in prison, the one he thought sounded correct. His family had been wiped out in the crash of ’29, lost everything but he had a small trust that allowed him to enter Tulane where he’d studied medicine until even that small amount was gone. On a previous trip to New Orleans Mr. Frame had applied at Tulane for a tutor for his-then young-son. Sam had been suggested so, while I was growing up, Sam tutored me and was able to continue, in a modest way, his studies to be a physician-interrupted by the inconvenience of our living in Chicago.
Periodically, he’d stay for a semester or two in New Orleans while we went abroad. Now he’d been with us for so many years, he was more like my older brother and was just part of the family. Quite a long way from hoping to make a buck by a street car stop. Oh, one other thing, Billy opened his shirt, reached in and pulled out a necklace that was really a collar. Tossing me a package, he said that was the leash, if I ever needed it, for the collar….Sam, having been purchased, was now property, the first man I’d owned.
Jack looked him over, smiled and announced that Sam, who he thought would be better known as Mark, was the perfect accessory. Shame there wasn’t a photographer to capture our newly made family, our old family retainers backed by portraits of my dear departed mother and my grandfather. Venetia burped signaling it was time for Fred to restock the Champagne also to round up Brace so the newly minted Mark would know who everyone was….if not precisely all that they did. I made a note to take him downstairs to meet Mathew; He’d need to know him on sight to allow him in and out without being challenged as well as be given information on a variety of topics, things Mathew thought we should know.
Somewhere I wondered if Mathew and Mark….both seemed such quiet, gentle men plus they had back stories that were amazingly similar. One of those thoughts I parked in the ‘to be remembered category’ and went on with the day.
I decided to have a lesson and to give one. Putting a cordial arm around Mark, picking up the remains of what was in the bottle, I headed us off for my part of the suite….some things are better learned in private. Billy winked at me but I just gave him an innocent glance which caused him to laugh. Elsewhere, Albert and Venetia were in the kitchen that came with our suite arguing about some woman about whom she had suspicions …Just like a real home with real servants.
One walking into this would have never known that as recently as that morning, very little of this would have existed as they saw it; My deceased mother, Miss Marianna, as well as her supposed father hung in a hock shop, Venetia was on her way to town, my tutor was still just one step above being a street urchin about to be arrested. The final completion of the scene of relaxed gentility was Venetia bringing in a bell to be rung if we needed or wanted anything.
Just then I did have a need but it did not require a bell; Mark and I wandered into my bedroom suite for the first tutorial.
First thing was to make sure he’d been well fed (he had), next was to add something calmative, the rest of the bottle of Champagne. Alone with me and, having been told he’d be fucked, his nervousness was returning. Nothing to do about that but take him in my arms, asked if he’d ever kissed anyone-male or female-but the difference now was that I wanted to enjoy kissing him and, in time, hoped he would enjoy my kissing him. Yes, he would lose his virginity, I’d tell him when, but for now, we were just going to stand there and….I’d kiss him….easily, his eyes closed….then his arms went around me and I got kissed back.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, I want you to tell me about education cuz that’s really what you’re going to do. The sex? Sure, but Jack wasn’t kidding when he said he want’s me to learn and that’s what you’ll do.” He surprised me, leaned in, put an arm around my back, his other around my head then kissed me again.
“Deuce…..I guess I have to tell you….I’ve wanted to be with a man for a long time…going to the trolley stop, yeah, I was hungry but I didn’t know what else….I was dirty, no place to really get clean so I just hoped….” He interrupted himself by taking a time out for crying…then kissing. This time when he finished, his spectacles were on the floor, washed away by tears of relief and maybe feeling a little secure. We were both going to learn lots.
A few days later, while Mark was out shopping for books and whatever else he thought a tutor should have-pads of paper, pens; Here to fore I’d just used hotel stationery which Fred dropped off by the box full. Pencils and, because he really needed them a visit to an oculist where I had him get two pair of spectacles plus one of the latest, Jack and I had them, sun glasses. While he was out, I had Billy, sorry, I had to learn not to slip, Williams, do certain things in my bedroom; Mark needed to move away from his virgin status and there was only way and this was the day.
Venetia had noticed that Mark suffered from the lack of a kind of affection he would have got in a ‘normal’ home. Some gently probing questions revealed that his family, while hardly touching the grandeur we were seeing, were people of quality, had a few servants and so took him under her wing albeit in a non-normal fashion. Whereas I’d never had a mother, he had and some of the clucking and worrying about him that would have occurred was gone. While she could not duplicate the broader affection, she could and did add some of the details. She stopped him before he went out, checked his clothes, made sure he had pocket money, his hair was properly combed then exhibited pride in him, often saying I was a reflection of his educational work. Subtly, it did remind him of a time when things had been not only better but more understandable to him. True, what we did wasn’t familial in any sort of way but he’d grown fond of all of us and, now, stopping him from kissing me was almost as difficult as when we’d started. Today, however, there was to be another addition to his knowledge, something I knew well and he knew….not at all: Fucking.
When he walked in, several boxes with books under one arm, Billy met him, took the books and said there was something for him to do. Mark had no reason to think anything so following Williams was normal. An hour later, normalcy had changed.
I knew what I wanted and, to save me the bother of doing it, I had Williams and Albert strip him then secure him to a bed in a certain manner. First his cock and balls were wound in twine, made into one bundle then a knotted cord was pulled up and attached to his collar, the leash depended from that to the floor and beyond, just where it could be yanked if necessary.
No spread eagle, he was tied, with rope that he could feel but that did not cause pain, in such a way that his head was over the end, his legs drawn up, pulled out at the knees to be tied down, tied across his body his feet cuffed in leather then pulled to keep his legs forming an ‘L’. His arms were stretched, cuffed, in leather, then attached to the side of the bed.
For openers, he’d been gagged and blind folded; Just who was going to take him was a question in his mind; To gain his respect for what could happen, once he was completely secured, Williams had dropped his pants, stood close to his face and let him see what I casually referred to as a family pet, the black snake. (Not to be confused with the other black snake whip Jack kept oiled and coiled and carefully put away against an unforeseen need.) After this viewing of his possible fate, that’s when the blind fold went on, door were closed and he was given some time to think…..of course what he didn’t know was that as his eyes had been covered, I’d slipped into the room, naked, and was seated on a chair somewhat behind him, observing, thinking, planning. A bit of Venetia’s food had very quickly put back the thin layer of fat we all have which only emphasized what a handsome body he had.
I wondered what he was thinking, certainly he’d been given hints over several days, told that his virginity was a pointless thing, would be taken, that he’d be used in ‘certain’ ways though those ways were only hinted at. He’d seen my cock and balls painfully tied then attached to a stake stuck up my ass….but all of this without explanation. If he’d wanted to ask questions….he hadn’t. The one soiree I’d taken him to had proved that Williams had made a great investment that day when he bought him from the cop for five dollars. We’d also found that Mark was further along in medical school than we believed; He had, in fact, finished his basic courses, had even moved on to working in the Emergency room and, for some more advanced study, had been sent to the colored hospital. As Jack figured it, he was about two years from getting his full medical license….but his current knowledge was something no fine family had; We never need consult a physician, reveal our secrets to a stranger, we had an almost doctor living with us and one who was about to be screwed. Something not taught in med school. And, something we hadn’t told him, he was going to circumcise all of us, including himself.
I watched on the bed, could see how nervous he was; The way he was tied suggested far more than a cock shoved up his ass. I wanted him to worry, wanted him to be afraid so that when I’d finished with him, he’d almost laugh at his fears. That, however, was yet to happen. Just for now he would learn my dominance, benevolent though it usually might be. To start that, I had the small whip we occasionally used. He couldn’t expect it as he didn’t know it or I were in the room. The first flick, barely causing pain at all, caused him to yelp, more in fear of what was to come than what had actually happened. The soles of his feet were lightly beaten, just to the edge of pain. Whipped on his back, only to cause light pain, not to leave a mark although Jack and I had decided that he would be marked as property just how was yet to be decided.
After that, iced water was poured on him, his butt scourged again, this time with some pain, and the cord that ran from his crotch under his head and, though he didn’t know it, was given a yank. Gradually fear was taking him, too much he couldn’t see or know was done to the extent that his whole body now feared….whatever.
It was then that I positioned myself in front of him, he had to hear someone move, picked up the leash, gave it a sharp pull, he groaned as his cock and balls were hurt. “That’s a lesson, Mark, a lesson from me to you. We’re gonna start today and you’re gonna learn, not all, there is not all, I don’t know all, Ace doesn’t know all but it’s essential that you and I know as much as we can. When we go to these dumb parties, they’re about sex, guess you figured that out. Those guys they call ‘tutors’, they couldn’t spell CAT. You’re smart, you’re going to be a doctor, Ace and I talked it over, you’re gonna go back finish whatever it is you have to do and, when we leave, if you don’t want to go with us, you’ll do what it takes to make you a doctor. Got me? I could see tears and I knew why.
“First thing, I’m going to take out the gag and put my cock where you’re mouth can find it….you figure out what to do, I may tell you but…use your instincts, you said you want to be with a man, well, now you are, never be with any thing but a man, that’s what happened to me. Women will want us, that’s a power but…see, that’s the head of my cock on your lips….”
Slowly his tongue came out until it hit my cock head. There was a pause until he started a straight lick and by moving it, gave him the idea to use his tongue more like a wash cloth cloth, lick it all over. Little by little I was insinuating it into his mouth, not enough to get a gag reflex but so he could close his lips over the shaft. I did that for him and told him to see if he could figure out how to suck, didn’t have to do much, just so I could feel it and, when he wanted and was comfortable, to eat some more of my cock…deep throating was not on the menu and I was well pleased with what he was doing.
I pulled back, kissed him the put my stiff muscle on his lips and let him do what he should have learned, at least a little bit. I stroked his hair, told him what a fine job he was doing, to relax, just take it as he wanted it…..keep his tongue moving, add the sucking….then started to enjoy it myself. No where near what I regarded as a mediocre suck but for his first time, he’d grasped the basic and, later, probably that night, in bed he’d have another chance.
While he was gingerly moving my cock into his mouth I told him I was going to switch around, get behind him and….he’d lose his virginity. Told him I was proud to be the one to take it, I liked him, explained that this first time, and maybe a time or two after, it would hurt just a little but I’d make it as easy as possible. For a while, I wanted him to just lay there, relax, not think about what was coming, leave that to me. Remember, I cared about him so this was something I wanted him to have.
Moving away from the head of the bed, I rounded to where his legs were drawn up and, due to the way it had been done, opened his ass lips a bit. He did not have a big crack, not one that would increase in height but as to the interior? Well, that was what I was going to see.
Laying on the part of the bed where his legs would have been I slowly licked his ass, just on the cheeks, interspersing that was compliments as to what a beautiful thing it was, how I wanted it…then, this shocked him, started to put my tongue inside his tail. I figured he’d never been eaten out and, today, we were only going so far. While he seemed to relax, maybe enjoy that, I took some good lube, covered the fingers on my right hand, removed my tongue and gently inserted one finger…let it stay there, move about a little, then another then a third. With my left hand I was massaging the outside of his ass, knowing where it would feel good, warming it with friction…four fingers only a little bit but pushing further he. He was beginning to squirm, which I expected, but this was part of what I needed to do to him. His virginity, in my mind, was gone, just the actual taking it so he knew it was about all that remained.
I carefully laid up on his back just enough so my cock was positioned to go in him but he’d also have the comfort of my warm body, my hair, my speaking to him, encouraging him, preparing him for the last bit…the actual fuck. My cock was well greased and while I’d had my fingers in him, they’d spread a heavy coating of slippery liquid…only thing left to do was…start the penetration.
At first Mark didn’t realize I was in him, a cock head, at least most of them, doesn’t give too much feeling but as it was followed by my staff, he knew and begin to whimper….more from fear than pain. Got to his first ring, told him this would hurt some, told him to hold his breath then when I told him, to exhale. He followed instructions and just as his breath came out I pushed through. He was almost crying, I knew it hurt but it was almost over, almost. We paused while I moved about inside him, slightly forward, stroking his back, his hair telling him he was doing swell-he was too-and okay, I was going to move further in him so expect some pain, same as last time take a deep breath…I slide, amazingly easy, through the last muscle and was in him. He didn’t know it but…he was no longer a virgin.
There were some tears, it did hurt some, but he’d been told that. From my position on top of him, I slid my hands under him, found his nipples then began to work them. Pretty much knew anything done to him was going to be new, even if he’d played with himself, it does not feel the same. The nipple working made him slightly squeeze his ass so in response, I slid in a bit further. Laying there, holding him, gently playing with him, calming him, I could feel him relax almost sense that….he might just want this, at least a little bit.
It was time to show him what fucking felt like so very slowly I moved my cock in and out, gently, just enough for him to feel the differing pressures, the feelings of my dick expanding as it got happier to be where it was. Now, I knew this was causing him some discomfort but that’s why I was on top of him, I was putting just enough pressure on most of his body to divert some of his attention from his ass. I put out one arm and grabbed his leash, gave it a smart tug and that really got his attention. Williams had tied his nuts so when the leash was pulled, they were pulled up and it would feel as if someone was holding them too hard. Also, his cock was tied at the corona which had a loop around it; One pull and that contracted it…more pain but less attention to my cock which was steadily picking up the tempo, moving more rapidly, getting me ready to do the last thing he had to receive, cum in his ass.
This wasn’t as easy for me as usual simply because I was trying to do too many things to concentrate on getting hard and getting off. Jack had me trained, like he was himself, to get very hard in seconds also to deflate just as quickly. With Mark, it wasn’t quite that easy, at least this time. Moving my hands from his tits to mine helped, also the warmth of his interior and that he was no longer afraid but was easy with my sticking him…..I got to the point where I could shoot. Whispering in his ear, I told him I wanted him to feel the warmth that was about to flow into him. As I got ready then at the point of no return, I kissed the back of his neck, pinched his tits and let loose. At least for the first time, he’d been fucked.
Staying on top of him, I loosed the knots on his arms and hands, gave him the leash suggesting that pain and pleasure were partners, to pull it to find that out. And one more thing…..
Back to his crack to lick out what I’d just dumped in. He didn’t expect that but even less when I could get a tongue full, go back so my face was looking at him then sticking out my tongue with the silvery white goo on it; I was giving him a choice. Though I could see he wasn’t sure, he did stick out his tongue and took me from me and ate it.
As quickly as I could I released him from everything, got him under the sheet, joined him, told him how great he’d done, that I was proud of him…
“Deuce….Thank you…..you’re a great guy and I’m so glad nobody offered me a buck….”
Nothing to do but caress him, make sure he was comfortable, lay there with him while he came down from fright and fear into comfort and acceptance then slipped off to sleep.
Back in the sitting room, there was applause when I wandered in, wearing a robe and a look of having done what needed to be done. Ace and Williams wanted to know….and I told them that, yep, he’d been screwed, took it pretty well, was asleep and the next time with me…I looked closely at them….and for a while it would be only with me….it would go more easily. Thought he’d learn to like it, after all, we did. Venetia handed me some Champagne and we drank a toast to Mark’s vanished virginity.
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