‘Don’t cry. Never cry. Don’t let them see how much it hurts.’ His rooms were the furthest from the elevator, they may as well been on the other side of the world as he clawed inch by pain filled inch towards the solitude of his apartments.
Soft hands came to rest on his shoulders, helping him back to his feet. He tried to shrug them off but they held on tighter. “Let me help you Sugar.”
‘Don’t cry, what ever happens don’t cry.’
James picked Joshua up, taking his small weight on his own body. “Let’s get you to your bed Sugar, then I’ll get you some sweet tea.” Joshua shook his head and tried again to push the caring hands away. “JC let me help you.”
A sob caught in the skinny prostitutes throat and he blinked rapidly, forcing the tears that were gathering to dissipate. He could feel the blood seeping from his abused asshole with every agonising step he took; soon he was lying on his bed. James went into his bathroom and Joshua heard the definite sound of a faucet being turned on. The southerner came back into the bedroom and started to undress the hurt man, ignoring the tiny whimpered protests. James cringed as he eased the leather tank up over Joshua’s head. Angry red welts crisscrossed his torso, some split and bleeding. Evidence of older abuse was visible too, bruises that had started to turn yellow, depicting their age, scabs from cigarette burns and deep cuts, crudely stitched back together.
“For the love of god!” James ran his fingers tenderly over the bony body laid out before him. Joshua for his part never moved, barely flinching as curious fingers traced the pattern of his scars. James undid Joshua’s pants and slipped them down over his narrow hips, his eyes filling with tears of pity for the beautiful prostitute. Joshua’s genitals were taped callously tightly, his penis almost folded.
“Evil, pure evil,” the southerner muttered as his fingers searched for the tape’s end. Joshua’s hands stopped him and he looked up, captivated by his sad blue eyes. The slim man shook his head as he chewed on his lip.
“”Let me help you take this off.”
Again Joshua shook his head, he pushed James’ hands away and drew his knees up to his chest.
“Why won’t you let me help you JC?”
Joshua turned his back and curled into a tighter ball, shutting the younger man out.
“What are you doing in here James?” a deep voice asked.
Joshua started to tremble violently. “I … he … he fell, in the corridor. I was just helping him.” James began to stammer nervously. In the whole time he had lived in Utopia he had never felt threatened until now.
“No one may talk to JC, James. You know that. Did he speak to you? Tell me the truth.”
“No, he kept pushing me away.”
“Go back to your apartments. JC will be fine alone.”
James took a final look at the fragile battered man and gave a saddened sigh. Reluctantly he walked to the door. As he passed the pimp he stopped. “It’s not right, you know that don’t you? What did he do to deserve this? It’s evil, pure evil.”
The pimp patted James’ back as he vacated the room letting him know exactly where his sympathies laid. He turned to Joshua. “I will have to tell him about this JC, I‘m sorry.”
The pain racked prostitute nodded slowly, knowing that he would be punished even though it hadn‘t been his fault.
‘Don‘t cry Joshua. Never cry.’
Joshua let out the breath he was holding as his door shut. Carefully he went into the bathroom and sat on the side of the bath, his feet in the water. How he longed to sink up to his neck in the fragrant bubbles, but if he did the adhesive on the tape would melt and then he would be punished severely when Saturday night came round again. He would just have to make do with washing away as much as the sweat and blood as he could, till he was allowed to take the terrible tape off. He reached into the water and fished out his face cloth, wringing it before spreading it over his face, rubbing gently. As the hot flannel hid his face he allowed himself one brief moment of weakness, sobbing loudly and mournfully into the washcloth. As quickly as it happened he controlled himself again. He wouldn’t cry, couldn’t cry. If he did he would never be able to stop.
Using slow careful movements he washed the rest of his body, then gritting his teeth against the pain swung his legs back out of the bath and stood up using the wall as support. He stood leaning against the cold tiles until the world stopped spinning then made his way painstakingly back to his bed, laying down on his side, his quilt bunched up against him.
‘I love you Joshua, do you love me?’
Joshua jolted from his dream as his door was opened.
“JC, Doctor Franklin is here to see you.” the thin prostitute made a half hearted attempt to stand up but cool professional hands pushed him back down.
“Lets see what he’s done to you this time JC. Try to relax, I know it hurts but I have to look.” The doctor rolled Joshua onto his side and encouraged him to lift his leg over, bending his knee so that he could get easier access to the young man’s abused anus. Using ample lubricant Franklin pushed his finger inside making Joshua whimper in pain. “Relax, JC, there’s a good boy, relax.” The doctor withdrew his digit and pulled off his rubber Gloves dropping them into the bedside bin. “Not too much damage in there, a few days rest and the pain will abate. Let me take a look at the rest of you.”
Obediently Joshua allowed the doctor to examine him completely. When he had finished he handed the waiting master a bottle of painkillers. “One three times a day.” Then in a lower voice that was meant for the pimp only, he added. “ Make sure he has taken them before you leave him. They are strong and if he decided to save them up he could do himself serious harm.” The pimp nodded his understanding and showed the bordello’s doctor out.
Alone again Joshua hugged his quilt back around him and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him, but praying that death would come for him first.
The friends drove home, their moods still buoyant from their evening romps. Well everyone but Justin. Justin could still hear the pathetic cries for mercy that drifted from the lone room at the end of the corridor on the third floor of Utopia.
Utopia, wasn’t that meant to be an idyllic place? A place of dreams? For the scrawny prostitute that had been called JC, the place was of nightmares surely.
“What’s up Jup?” Chris swivelled in his seat curious to why the younger of them was so quiet.
“Nothing.” Justin turned his head to stare at the passing scenery.
“Something is up. That whore you was with didn’t steal your wallet did he?”
“No Joe he didn’t!”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Justin sighed and chewed on his lip. “Did you hear anything last night, screams?”
“I heard something but it was so muted, I wasn’t sure if it was cries of pleasure or of pain.” Chris’ eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Did someone hurt you Jup?”
“No, no not me, James was … great. You remember JC?”
Joey and Chris threw a quick look at each other as they remembered the sombre sight of the bruised prostitute in the lobby that morning seeing out his owner. “Yes,” they replied together.
“Well his room was next to James’ and, well it was him screaming. And he wasn’t enjoying it guys. They were real screams, agonised screams. James said that it happens every Saturday. That they learned to block it out, but how? Every time I close my eyes I can picture him, crying, pleading for mercy.”
“I’m sure he knew what he was signing up for Jup,” Chris said quietly. “Some guys get off on that type of pain, it makes them cum harder, increases the power of their orgasm.”
Justin sighed and rested his head against the window. “I guess.”
“Don’t dwell on it Justin, I’m sure that if JC didn’t get off on it, he wouldn’t do it.”
Justin blinked his wide blue eyes, “You really think?”
“I’m sure.” Chris reached over and ruffled the shaggy blond curls that covered Justin’s head. He sat back and gave Joey a worried look. Joey shook his head and concentrated on the road. They had both heard the screams too and neither one of them believed what Chris had just said. All that mattered was that Justin believed it.
Saturday again, how did it come around so soon? Joshua repeated the routine that he ran through every Saturday night. Lining up the dildos and vibrators, preparing the objects of sexual torture so that his owner can pleasure himself with the pain he inflicted. He still ached from the previous week and this week would be worse. This week Utopia’s masters would tell Mr. Johnson that James had been in his room. In his act of kindness the green-eyed blond had condemned him to hours of agony. Joshua laid the whip across his dresser, his hands shaking as the blades brushed over his fingertips. A new box sat on his bed, wrapped in garishly bright paper, it had arrived that morning with instructions of not to open it until Johnson arrived. The card simply said ‘For JC‘. Joshua tried to remember, was it his birthday? One day was pretty much the same for him; the only day that varied was Saturday.
5:30, he had time for a bath and a shave. He seemed to spend a lot of time immersed in hot bubbly water, that or reading. He had started to write, but had to keep his scribbling’s hidden. If Johnson found them he would be furious, as he had poured out all his feelings on those tiny scraps of paper. His hatred for the man that tormented him, his desire to escape the pointless life he was trapped in. he sunk into the deep bath, a small sigh on his lips as the silky feeling caressed his body. He closed his eyes, slipping into his semi-dream state that he tended to live in.
Tender loving hands cupped his genitals, long tapered fingers that weren’t stained yellow with tobacco glided up and down his cock. He leaned back against the solid body behind him, feeling safe in his loving arms. “I love you Joshua.” soft whispered words caressed his ears as hot passionate lips kissed and sucked on his neck. “My precious, my love.” The shrill alarm once more jolted Joshua from his daydreams before he could see the face of his fantasy lover. Ever reluctant he dragged himself from the bath and followed the routine he did every Saturday night. When he was dressed he sat on the edge of his bed and waited. An alarm would sound when it was time for him to take the elevator to the lobby. Clasping his hands before him he prayed.
The master on door duty jumped off his chair and hurried over to meet the affluent middle aged man. “Sir JC wasn’t expecting you until nine. I’m not sure he’s ready.” The pimp looked at the grandfather clock standing against the wall, noting that it was only 5:30pm.
“I’m early, I want to look at the security tapes in Joshua’s room. I was informed that another prostitute was found in his rooms. I want to know what went on between them. Also I want to observe my ward for an hour or so, see what he does when he is not with me.”
“Of course Mr. Johnson, I’ll make arrangements immediately for a private viewing room. In the mean time may I arrange for you to be attended to by another whore?”
Johnson considered the offer. “Actually yes, send the whore that was found in Joshua’s room.”
The pimp rushed off to make arrangements leaving Johnson alone. The well-presented man paced the room, stopping in front of a mirror and straightened his tie, checked his teeth and smoothed over his hair.
“I’m James sugar, may I get you a drink?” the blond prostitute staggered back when Johnson turned and faced him. “Mr. Johnson, sir I’m sorry. They didn’t tell me it was you sir. I wouldn’t have been so familiar if I had know.” James licked his lips, as they suddenly felt very dry.
Johnson gave a sinister smile. “That’s alright James; I’ll forgive you this time. Sloe Gin.”
“Excuse me sir?” James stuttered slightly, his palms beginning to sweat with anxiety.
“You were going to get me a drink I believe. I’d like a Sloe Gin.”
James spurred his body into motion, gliding quickly behind the bar and mixing the cocktail. He handed it to the well dressed man and watched nervously as he sipped it.”
“I’d say you mix a better drink than Joshua.” Johnson sniggered at James’ confused look. “I believe you know him as JC.”
The blond prostitute took an involuntary step backwards. “Nothing happened Mr. Johnson. He was hurting. I just helped him back to his room I swear.”
Johnson moved closer to the now cowering whore and took hold of him around his throat. “You know what I do to liars don’t you whore?”
James nodded, his voice deserting him. The duty master came back. “The viewing room is ready sir.”
Johnson smiled and patted James’ face. “Accompany me James, lets see if you were telling me the truth.”
Trembling the green-eyed prostitute followed his client to the viewing room. “Stand against the wall boy.”
Shaking James obeyed. Johnson pressed play.
Terrified James stood against the wall watching himself help JC to his bed, taking the frail mans clothes off and trying to unbind his genitals. Johnson watched with pride as his ward pushed away offers of help and never uttered a word. Even when the pair were discovered JC never begged not to be reported.
“It would seem James that you told the truth. Come sit beside me.” the older man patted the couch next to him. Cautiously the blond prostitute sat next to him.
“I meant no harm,” he whispered. “He had fallen. He couldn’t stand again on his own. I meant no harm.”
“I believe you James.” The two watched silently as JC made his way painfully to the bath then sat on the edge washing himself. Tears welled in James’ eyes as the heartbreaking sob ripped from the taped whores throat and was quickly covered and buried deep where no one could find it.
“He is beautiful don’t you think James?”
“Yes sir, very beautiful.” James answered truthfully, afraid that this man would see through his lies.
“You wonder why I hurt such a delicate creature?”
“It’s not my place sir,” James whispered as he watched JC wrap his quilt around himself.
Johnson pressed onward. “You see such beauty has to be tamed, controlled. Let it run unchecked and it will run wild, endangering itself and everyone around it. Eventually it will control you too. So you break it, keep it on its knees.”
James gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing rapidly.
Johnson faced the frightened prostitute. “Joshua got into some trouble in the outside world. He almost killed a man that had tried to rape him. He was a frightened little deer when he came to me begging for help, he knew he’d go to prison for what he had done, and so did I. I offered him an alternative, still prison, but my prison.” Johnson sipped his drink then continued. “Joshua wanted to become a lawyer, if he had a criminal record he wouldn’t be able to do that. So I arrange for someone else to go to jail for him, in return he gave me the years that the other man was sentenced to.”
“How long did the man get?” James wasn’t sure if he should ask but curiosity won out over caution.
“Five years. He got off pretty lightly, but that was because it was classed as aggravated assault and he gave himself in.”
“So JC, Joshua belongs to you until his sentence is served?”
Johnson smiled. “Correct, it serves both our purposes.” James chewed on his lip and wrung his fingers together, wanting to ask but scared. Gathering his courage he asked, “Why torture him?”
Johnson finished his drink and held out the glass for a refill. James quickly obliged, returning to sit next to the older man.
“How else will he learn that what he did was wrong?”
Silence shrouded the two again as the tape switched to Joshua getting ready for that nights visit. Falling to his knees and praying to god for strength and courage to survive another Saturday night.
“He’s praying,” James whispered.
Johnson scoffed, “if he feels it helps him then let him, but god isn’t listening. I am.”