Chapter 2

Justin couldn’t will the pain away.  It had hurt so
bad when that guy Lance had looked at him as if he
were scum.  I haven’t always been like this, he
whispered to himself.  He remembered home, well-kept
suburban houses, cookie cutter predictability but
safe, people who loved you and cared about you.
Friends who picked you up for class at the local
junior college and ate lunch with you and shot hoops.

Friends who didn’t know who you really were.  Until
that day when your ex-boyfriend wanted to get even and
announced to the whole student union that you were
gay.  The gasps and the murmurs and the ugly looks
drove you out.  It hadn’t surprised you.  What did
surprise you was the small angry crowd that surrounded
you and beat the crap out of you,

You had dragged home that day and when your mom saw
you, you blurted out that you were gay and instead of
bathing your cuts and kissing your bruises, she had
told you that you deserved it, that homosexuality was
a sin.  She didn’t follow you up to your room and at
dinner there was silence until your father said that
if you were gay, you would have to leave the house and
he was sure that one of your *boyfriends* would take
you in.

There hadn’t been any boyfriends and so you left town
and headed to Chicago, where you knew there were other
gay boys and you could get lost.  That had been almost
a year ago and you hadn’t been able to keep a job
without having to give it up to the boss and at that
point, you still had a little self-respect left.

But self-respect doesn’t pay for food or a room or a
coat and you traded your beauty for cash.  Lately, you
avoided washing, hoping that the men who trawled the
streets would not be likely to pick you with the
street grime clinging, and sometimes you just didn’t
want to be picked..

Except for the john early last week, the one that
invited you into the car with sweet words and a
handful of bills.  You knew his reputation, but you
needed the money.  He had taken you to the Palmer
House Hilton and hurried you through the elegant
lobby.  In the elevator, he told you to keep your head
down and then he had shoved you quickly into his room.


He had you strip and pointed to the bathroom, on the
phone to the laundry as you headed to the shower.  It
had felt great and he hadn’t even come in , just let
you luxuriate in the hot water and sweet smelling
European soap.

His voice from the other room told you to leave the
towel in the bathroom, so you had dried and tried to
untangle your curls and gone out to the other room.
Your heart sank when you saw the bed.  There were
ropes tied to every bedpost, just waiting for you. 

You briefly thought about leaving, but your clothes
were missing and you needed the cash so you laid down
on the bed and let him tie you, so tightly that you
knew there would be raw skin for days.

You saw the blindfold coming and you said no in a
whisper.  You knew that meant he would hurt you in
some way that he didn’t want you to see, the pain a
shock.  So he put the silk around your face and
darkness took over and fear as you anticipated what he
would do next.

And it was as awful as you had feared it would be.  He
enjoyed your whimpering, the little begging sounds
that you made when he cut you, when he teased your
dick and wouldn’t let you come.  He never did let you
release and the pain in your balls was unbearable and
you could hear the smile in his voice as he taunted
you.

He fucked your mouth and he hit you with his fists,
and he slapped you and rocked your head. and he yelled
obscenities and he said cruel things that made you
cry.

In the end, he left you exhausted from the pain and no
amount of begging made him untie you.  So you lay all
night with your limbs stretched unnaturally, until you
couldn’t feel them anymore, listening for his
movement, trying to guess what he was doing.  When you
felt him rub the cum in your hair and on your face,
you knew what he had done.

In the morning, you couldn’t move when he finally
undid the knots and he was rough as he threw you in
the shower again, this time coming with you and
touching you everywhere, mocking your tears that mixed
with the water.

He made you stroke yourself to orgasm, the pain and
pleasure in equal parts.  As you stumbled into the
other room, you prayed to the God that no longer loved
you to please let this be over soon.

And he turned a disgusted face to you and told you to
get dressed and there were your clothes, clean and
pressed, a pile of bills next to them and as you left,
you wondered if any one knew how hard it was to do
this to live.

Today the train pulled into another station and Justin
barely made out the sign, sighing as he realized it
was time to get out, to face the bitter wind.  The
money hadn’t gone far enough for a coat.  He owed
people and then there were the one or two that pressed
him into a corner and demanded something just for not
killing him.

Next time for the coat, he thought, heading for the
nearest church, hoping they would have a clothes
giveaway that day.  They didn’t but the church was
open and at least warmer than the streets and it was
too early for any johns, so he dozed here and hoped
the sexton wouldn’t call the cops.

He drifted into a restless sleep, Lance’s face as he
paid off the debt, floating in front of him.  He
dreamt they were friends and that they were equals,
that Justin had a real job and a real place to live
and his life wasn’t so fucked up that Lance wouldn’t
even want to be with him.


Lance couldn’t erase the memory of Justin either.  The
pain that he had gotten a glimpse of, haunted him, and
he kicked himself for letting his embarrassment
prevent him from getting to know Justin.  Now he was
gone and he had no idea where to find him.

“Earth to Lance,” he heard, uttered sharply a few
inches from his ear.  He nearly toppled over in his
chair, the two front legs coming down with a bang.

He looked up into the angry eyes of his boss.  He had
been daydreaming about his encounter this morning
instead of brainstorming a new ad campaign and it was
obvious that she knew his mind had been elsewhere.

“Look, we have to come up with an original idea by
tomorrow afternoon.  They will be here at three for
the preliminary ideas.  We have nada.”

“Their clothes aren’t original,” Lance drawled.

“Hello??? And your point is?”

“You’re right.  There is no point.  Look, Jenna, I met
this guy,” he started and stopped as Jenna rolled her
eyes. “No, not like that.” It wasn’t a secret that he
was gay but he didn’t advertise or fuck where he ate
either.

“He is amazing looking.  We could center the ads
around him, have every girl drooling and every guy
buying the damned clothes in the hope that they would
look like him.”

“You mean imitate A&F?” she said scornfully.

“Sort of,” he admitted, “but this kid is an angel,
incredibly beautiful, and we keep his clothes on, keep
‘em guessing.”

He knew she was hooked as he saw her mind start to
plan out the different layouts.  “So where did you
meet him?  Vogue Fashion Awards?”

“Um, no, actually, on the El.” She squinted with
suspicion.

“Is he professional?” she asked. 

Lance thought, not like you think, but he answered,
“No, he isn’t.  That’s the great part about the idea—
a natural, unspoiled beauty.” He crossed his fingers,
hoping she wouldn’t pursue a lot of questions before
she met him.  Lance knew he could sell her if she
could just *see* Justin.

“Can you get him here this afternoon?”

“Ummm, no, I don’t actually have an address or phone
number.”

“Great.  Got a plan B there, pal?”

“Jenna, give me two days off.  You sell the plan to
them and I’ll find him, I swear.”

“In Chicago,” she said doubtfully.

“Two days.”

“Okay, two days and then we go with Tom Summers.  He’s
not nationally known and...”

“I swear.  I’ll find Justin.”

“Great name,” she said as he grinned and flew out,
swinging on his jacket as he left.



Justin shifted in his sleep as he felt the body press
up against his, but his eyes flew open and he was wide
awake when someone grabbed his crotch and squeezed
hard, forcing a hiss from him.
He slapped the hand away and heard the low chuckle,
“Ready to go again, baby?”

He turned in the seat and found himself staring at the
john from last week.  Shit, no.  He remained silent
and the smile faded, “Too good for me?  Doesn’t look
like you took a bath since the last one with me.”

Justin was biting down hard on his lip, unable to
speak.  The john took it the wrong way.  “You fucking
little whore.  Let’s go.”

“No,” Justin forced out and the man hesitated
momentarily.

“No?  No?  Fucking get real.  C’mon”

“No,” Justin repeated.

“Okay, I’ll just call the cops and tell them you
propositioned me here in church while I was on my
knees praying,” he replied, taking out his cell phone
and flipping it open.  He flashed Justin an evil grin,
“Then you’ll have to *give* it away in jail, pretty
boy.”

He closed the phone when he saw Justin’s shoulders
droop and his face crumple.  Justin followed him into
the car, feeling the lust coming off the man in
shimmering waves, and he shuddered.  As they walked
through the lobby again, Justin idly wondered if
anyone recognized him.



Lance headed home, determined to come up with a plan
for finding Justin.  As he rode the train, he mused
that he hadn’t thought about AJ all morning.  He still
felt the hurt, the pain that said he was not good
enough, not exciting enough, and that it was okay to
fuck around on him.  But he was also excited at the
prospect of finding Justin.

He prayed Joey was home.  His best friend worked at a
bar and usually was there until 2PM.  He heaved a sigh
of relief when Joey poked his head out of the kitchen,
frowning.  “What the hell are you doing home at this
hour?”

“Important mission.  I have to find someone,” Lance
grinned.

Joey cocked his head and studied Lance.  Since
Saturday the guy had been moping around, not eating,
asking them constantly what he had done wrong.  “You
did nothing wrong, dude, except hook up with an
asshole.  May I say your taste in men is
questionable.”

Lance had flopped down and sighed.  “Why do I keep
picking guys like that?”

Joey asked seriously, “You want to know?” Lance nodded
and Joey continued, “You know Chris?  That psych prof
from State?  Well, he says it’s your self-esteem.  You
don’t think you deserve anyone better.”

Lance frowned, “Duh.  That’s a newsflash.  So what do
I do?”

“Let me pick ‘em for you,” Joey said.  When Lance
looked dubious, Joey said, “No kidding.  Let me meet
the guy first and I’ll give you the skinny on the
vibes.”

Lance rolled his eyes and snorted.  It wasn’t like he
could do any better.  After all, he never got the
feelings that Joey got.  He changed the subject, “I
met someone on the El this morning.”

“So when do I meet him?” Joey asked.

“When I can find him again.  I didn’t find out
anything but his first name.”

“Hello??? Are you an idiot?”

Lance sighed, “It’s a little complicated.”

Joey sniffed the air, “Well, come in here and tell me
all about it while I cook.  Want some?”
Lance filled him in and brought him to the present.
“Great story.  What’s the truth?”

“That’s it.  He’s a street boy, a hooker.”

Joey laughed, “Well shit, even *you* must have more
self-esteem than him.”

“It’s not about dating him.  Haven’t you been
listening?”

“Yeah, I’ve been listening.  Have you?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You are already falling for this boy.  See, this is
your problem, Lance.  You can’t be honest with
yourself.” Lance fell back in his chair, a totally
stunned expression on his face.  Joey laughed and
turned back to the stove.

Lance thought about what Joey had said.  It was true.
He tried to hide his feelings even from himself.  If
he hadn’t, he would have dumped all of his previous
boyfriends long before they dumped him.  It wasn’t
like none of them had given clues.  It was pretty
obvious all down the line.

Take AJ, for example.  They had spent every free
moment together at first and then gradually they had
slept together two nights at most and gone clubbing
one or two nights a week.  Lance knew when he was home
alone it had been doing laundry or paying bills or
watching tv.

What AJ did when Lance wasn’t around had been a
mystery, a mystery Lance chose to ignore until the
night in the men’s room.  And as long as he was being
honest, when Justin fell into that seat, Lance had
fallen for him, dirt and all.  The air of
vulnerability that peeked out from under his arrogant
mask, had already stolen Lance’s heart.

Joey put two plates down on the table and sat,
grinning across the table.  “See, not so dumb, eh?”

“Great.  So help me find him and then we’ll deal with
my shit.”

“Sure.  Where did he get on?”

“Wabash.  But I can’t ride the freakin’ el for the
next two days, hoping he’ll be chased onto a train
again.  Think.  Where do the gay hookers hang?”

Joey laughed, “*You’re* asking *me*?”

“You can find out.  You don’t just have conservative
Gap friends.  Call someone.  What about that guy
Chris?  Would he know?”

“Are you telling me you don’t know?”

“I’m too fucking southern boy to go out looking.
Clubs only and believe me, Justin wouldn’t get into a
club.”

Joey leaned back and grabbed the phone, punching in
numbers.  “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Listen, I need a favor.  Where do the gay hookers
hang?” He listened and laughed, “No, that is not why I
asked you.  You just seem to know more about that
segment of society than most of us.” A pause.  “Long
story.  Come for a drink tonight and I’ll fill you in.
Okay?”  Another second.  “Later”

“All right.  He says by the old Bijou Theater on the
east side.  It’s a run down area so don’t go by
yourself after dark.  Listen, man, if you can wait
till tomorrow, I’ll go with you but I can’t duck out
today.  I’m the only one on tonight.”

Lance bit his lip.  “Thanks, but I need to try today.
Maybe if I go there this afternoon, someone will know
him.”



Justin didn’t even ask, just stripped and headed to
the bathroom, wondering how long he could stay in
there before he was dragged out.  He got his answer
when he heard a shout, demanding that he get his
skanky ass out into the bedroom.  He dried off quickly
and uttered a fervent prayer that the guy hadn’t come
up with anything worse.

He sucked in his breath when he saw what was laid out
on the bed.  Lots of black leather and toys, most of
which he recognized, useful for their ability to
inflict pain.



Hours later, Lance was still wandering.  No, no one
had seen Justin since earlier in the day.  They
thought maybe he had gone to find some place warm.
Maybe JC would know but he wasn’t around either.

As the sky grew dark, Lance sighed and gave up,
swearing he would be back early tomorrow, hoping that
he would be luckier the next time.  As he walked away,
he heard the whispered offers, so similar to Justin’s
and he felt incredibly sad.

He found Joey and sat morosely at the bar, eating the
fruit, and praying that Justin was okay.



It was another long night and somewhere in the middle
Justin left, his mind fleeing his body, the pain
calling him back frequently until he passed out.  He
came to in such an unnatural position that he couldn’t
imagine how the john had managed it.

His eyelids fluttered beneath the blindfold and he
sighed at the darkness.  He heard the rustle of
clothing and then there was a weight on the bed.  He
wanted to move away but he couldn’t and then there was
a warm hand brushing his curls back gently.  Justin
was confused by the soft voice.

“Damn, you are gorgeous.  I want to keep you, baby.  I
could set you up here, a nice warm place for the
winter, food three times a day.  It could be all
right.”

Tears leaked through the silk.  And all I have to do
is suffer every minute of every day so you can get
off, Justin thought.   If he got out of here today, he
would never come back.  He would take his chances with
the police.  The if was what frightened him.

“Please, let me go,” he cried softly.

“I want to, sweetie, but you are so beguiling, like an
angel.  You’re irresistible,” he said and brushed his
lips on Justin’s.

Justin tried to control the shudder, knowing that the
john would be enraged but he couldn’t and without
seeing his face, Justin tensed for a blow.  It came so
powerfully that he arched against the restraints and
his shoulder dislocated with a loud pop.

The scream was muffled quickly but not before someone
heard it and notified the desk.  The john, suspecting
that it wouldn’t be long before they had company,
loosened everything and dumped Justin into the tub
with instructions to shower.

Justin could barely stand and his left arm hung
uselessly, the pain brilliant.  He washed himself,
looking at the cuts and the welts and spilling
pointless tears.  He did the best he could and then
tried to pop the shoulder back into place with no
success.

The door banged open and the older man stormed in.
“You are a fucking pain in the ass and the sooner
you’re gone, the better off I’ll be.” Justin silently
thanked the universe that this was one of those hotels
where screams were reported, not like most of the
places where he took his tricks.

Justin held his arm gingerly and backed away when he
saw the look that said, you are leaving here with that
damn arm back in place.  “Come here, now,” came the
sharp order.  He handed Justin a towel to yell into
and then reached across the open space and yanked
hard, a satisfying snap at the end.

“Now get dressed and get the fuck out of here.” Justin
saw that the pile of bills was smaller and when he
noticed Justin staring, he grunted, “I took some back.
For the trouble you caused.”
Justin wondered how much longer life would seem worth
living.



continue
menu
1