Free The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears Page A

Fuck him harder, Trey,” Willie said from his perch on the couch.
    I glared at him. I hated him watching, but this client liked it, so here he was taunting me. It was bad enough I had to screw, or be screwed, by ugly old bastards with a young boy fetish, why did he have to talk? Couldn’t he just sit there and let me work?
    Business was cherry, and it seemed every rich guy in the city wanted to play with Willie’s pretty boy. It was amazing how many professional types were closet pederasts. The one I had my dick buried into was some sort of lawyer with some fucked up rape fetish. Come on, get real. There was no way skinny thirteen-year-old me could ever take this guy by force. I wondered what his clients would think if they knew he liked to be fucked by teenage boys. 
    “TREY, get off him. Jesus Christ, he’s done.” Willie shoved me with his foot, sending me sprawling onto my side. I rose up and punched him. When I realized what I had done I scurried back until I bumped into the corner between the end table and the blue couch. Fuck .
    Willie’s neck turned the color of a stop sign, but he kept his cool and apologized to the client, refunding him some of his money.
    The guy waved it off. “He’s a teenage boy. They get feisty. You’re just going to have to work him harder.” The man, I think his name was Gregg, or something like that, glanced at me and smirked as he did up his belt. I hated these fucking rich pricks. They looked at me like I was a toy they had bought and could do anything they wanted with. I guess that’s really what I was. Willie’s whore, rented out for your enjoyment, to do with as you please, while my mother shot the profits into her arm without a care in the world.
    “You little shit,” Willie roared, after closing the door. He moved towards me in a rage. His shoulders squared and hands fisted.
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just pumped up or something,” I pleaded with him. His belt zinged through the loops on his jeans as he grabbed my neck and threw me down.
    “Knees, now, and if you move even an inch...”
    He didn’t have to finish the threat, I knew, and scrabbled to my hands and knees. If I moved he’d make sure I wouldn’t get up for hours. The first smack had me biting back a whimper. Every noise I made would be another lash. Each time the leather hit my skin I tried not to flinch, tried not to make a sound.
    I was drooling by the time he finished. My back was a sheet of solid pain, and I didn’t even feel the last few lashes.
    “Don’t move,” he said, and I began to shake wondering what he was about to do to me.
    He leaned over my back and grabbed my dick while his hard-on pressed against my hip. I whimpered as the palm vibrator slid over me. It made me do things against my will. Forced me to come.
    “I learned my lesson. Willie, please don’t,” I said, my voice a squeak as I felt my eyes grow hot with tears.
    “Shut up. You fucked up and need to know why.” He turned the thing on, and in seconds I was hard and he was ruthless. Soon I was pushing into his hand, unable to stop myself.
    Willie was breathing heavily, and starting to bump against me, and the tears finally fell from my eyes. I knew what he was going to do now.
    “You’re so sexy when you’re turned on, all flushed and warm.” He started jabbing his dick at me like he used to when I was little, unable to restrain himself long enough to slide in. My stomach lurched, and I was sure I was going to be sick. Instead my muscles tensed as the surge of pleasure shot through my groin. I hated myself for liking it. I sobbed as I came, the tears streaming down my face and dropping from my chin to the maroon carpet.
    He pushed into me then, and pummeled me until I was so sore I was sure I was bleeding.
    “My dirty little boy, so sexy, so tight.” He finally came on a loud groan. He reached around me and fondled my dick. “Dirty boy, don’t ever say you don’t like it. Fucki ng hard again.” He