The Recruitment Officer


by Spankjoy <Br467wq@hotmail.com>

"So now you have to find us a new boy, Andrew."

"How?"

"That's for you to work out. Think how you were found."

"It's risky."

"You have no choice."

"How do you mean?"

"You know how we mean. You're in too deep now. There are a thousand and one ways we can destroy you."

"I could do the same to you."

"Oh, Andrew, I think not. Who is really going to believe your word against ours? And anyway, we have you watched - and you don't know everyone who's in on this with us. If you seek help - chances are, you'll be talking to one of our own people. And then we'll know. And then we'll send the boys out after you."

"All right, all right. I believe you. How soon have I got before I have to produce?"

"We have a group of very well-heeled customers with appropriate predilections coming to the flat at 7a, Huntingdon Tower, tomorrow evening. We could produce you for them them to beat and bugger, but they'll pay better for younger merchandise. And you, dear fellow, would receive a very large bonus, as well, of course, as the opportunity to put the new colt through his paces, if you see what I mean..."

"I do. All right. I'll do what I can."

"Fine. Shall we say seven o'clock tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, right."

***

The next day, Andrew, who was 15, went out quite early to sit in the park. Andrew had originally become a rent boy when he was 11 and was himself recruited to The Circle by an older boy. Although he had been well-used since then, he was still quite an attractive youngster, with longish brown hair and fair skin. His friends in the neighbourhood had no idea about his double life.

Andrew had been sitting on a bench in the park for nearly half an hour when he saw Joey coming in through the park gate. Joey. Now, there was a thought....

Joey was 12 and a complete outcast. Of mixed race, half asian, half white, undersized for his age, Joey had always been neglected at home and had no friends in the neighbourhood. He tried too hard to make friends and ended up alienating and irritating everyone. He was on the loose from dawn to late evening. Nobody cared about him; nobody took him seriously.

But Joey was quite a good looker in a minor sort of way, Andrew mused. Small, yes, but kind of mousey and cute, with strong hips and a definite, pronounced little arse. Andrew knew that some of the men in The Circle would really like him. Jet black hair, smooth brown skin, brown eyes; yes.

"Joey!" Andrew called the boy over.

Joey was surprised to be greeted, but went to sit alongside Andrew on the bench. "Hi Andrew. What's new?"

"Oh, nothing much," Andrew affected nonchalance, "What's new with you?"

"Not enough is new. Not enough to do. Not enough money to do it with."

"Hmm," Andrew responded, "I know what you mean. The only way kids round here make money is crime."

"Don't I know it. But no-one ever takes me along."

"You don't mind doing crime?"

"I don't mind doing anythng, so long as there's money in it."

"I can't believe that. You wouldn't murder for money."

"Well, maybe no, not that."

"And you wouldn't attack a little old lady for money."

"No, never, you're right there."

"And if a man come upto you in those toilets over there and said, 'I'll suck your dick for £10', no way would you do that.."

"Oh, I don't know so much. £10 is a lot of money to me."

"Joey!"

"Well, I'm not queer or nothing, but money is money and no-one gets hurt if I do something like that. It's not like knocking down a little old lady, well is it?"

"Have you done something like that?"

"No. But I have thought about it. You read what's on the cubicle walls - and it's kind of... tempting, when you see the money they're offering. I'm not sure I should tell you this. You'll tell the others and they'll take it out on me."

"No Joey, I won't. I've read what's on those walls too.."

"And have you been tempted?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Andrew lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"I haven't got any friends to tell, Andrew."

"Well, I've done that."

"You mean.. you done... it?"

"Yes. I've done it."

"With a man?"

"Yep."

"For money?"

"Yes."

"Ooh. What did you earn?"

"Lots."

"Lots?"

"Lots."

"Wow. When you were my age?"

"Yes - and since."

"You've done it more than once?"

"Lots of times."

"Oh. Is it nice?"

"What?"

"What you do, with men. Is it nice?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes not. It's the money that really counts."

"Oh. Right. Look, Andy, I've got to go now. See you."

Joey trotted off across the park and out the upper gate. Andrew silently cursed. "_d_a_m_n_!" he thought, "Have I said too much? Is he going to tell someone? Or did I just overdo it and scare the kid?"

Joey sat on for another hour as the sun rose above him, hoping on hope that someone else would appear.

Someone did appear, but it wasn't someone else. It was Joey all over again. He trotted back across the park and sat down by Andrew. "I've been thinking," he said. "I need money. I really do. Do you know any men I could..."

"...Do it with for money?"

"Yeah, that. For money. That's right."

"Maybe... but you've got to realise, Joey, it's dangerous. These guys, if you try to grass on them, you're dead. And you have to do what they say."

"Do they pay well?"

"Oh yes, Joey, they pay."

"That's all that matters then."

Despite his need for a recruit, Andrew was suddenly concerned for Joey. "Well, you got to understand that some of these guys, they don't just give your dick a suck..."

"You mean they _f_u_c_k_ your arse? I've heard about that"

"Well yes, but some of them are into other things as well. Like spanking you or caning you."

"Oh." It was as if Joey wasn't really listening. "But you do get paid well?"

"Yes Joey, you do get paid well."

"So when can I .. do it with these men?"

"Joey are you really sure you want to do this?"

"Yep."

"OK." Andrew felt a cool churning in his gut at the sudden thought of Joey being stripped. "Meet me here tonight, 6.45."

***

Joey turned up on time and Andrew took him to the flat.

There were six men from The Circle in the flat, drinking beer and smoking. A video was turned off as they walked in and the room fell quiet. The men were all in middle age, professional-looking, in suits, except The Controller, who was younger and wore jeans.

"Who've we got here, Andrew?" The Controller asked.

"He's called Joey and he's 12."

"Can we trust him?"

"Definitely."

The Controller drew out a loaded revolver and pointed it at Joey. "See this kiddo?"

"Yes Sir."

"This is loaded; this gets used if secrets get broken. You understand? This here is private business. You get paid. You do what you get told. Get it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I wonder if you do. Andrew, strip off those cords and drop your shorts."

Andrew kicked off his shoes and immediately did what he had been told. "Now bend forward in front of me, here."

Andrew bent forward, hands on knees. The Controller folded his shirt back and shoved the barrel of his revolver between his arsecheeks and against his anus. "If I told you I was going to _f_u_c_k_ your arse with this loaded gun, what would you do?"

"Let you."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise I'd disappear and never be found."

"Too right Andrew. Stand up and step out of your shorts and cords." The Controller sheathed his gun and Andrew removed his trousers and pants."

"Right then, gentlemen," The Controller said, "We have ourselves some spring chicken. Let's open the bidding for the person who gets to unwrap the parcel."

There was a swift sequence of bidding, which ended at £400. The money was handed over and a man in his late fifties, balding, fat, with a moustache, gave the cash to The Controller. Andrew went and sat with The Controller on a settee. Joey was sent to the fat man, who had him sit on his lap in an armchair.

"Hello, Joey," the fat man said.

"Hello, Sir." Joey sounded scared.

"There's nothing to be scared about," the fat man said, putting his hand on one of Joey's knees and letting it run up a little way, "So long as you do what I say. Open your legs wide."

Joey did the opposite, squeezing his legs together in fear.

"OPEN WIDE!" the man suddenly shouted, smacking each of Joey's thighs, hard.

Joey's eyes opened wide, in pain and fear.

"Joey," Andrew said, "I told you. You have to do what they say. Look, it's not so hard."

Joey focussed on Andrew and saw that his bare thighs were open wide, his shirt was folded upward, and The Controller was playing with his balls. "Oh!" Joey said, in complete surprise, looking at Andrew's 6" hard dick.

"Open them," the fat man said. Almost without thinking, Joey opened his legs. In an instant, the fat man's hands were up onto his crotch, feeling and tickling.

"Aargh," Joey said. "You're tickling. You're...Oh! Oh no!" The Fatman had Joey's fly unzipped and his hand inside, squeezing Joey's dick over his briefs. "Oh. Oh wow!" Joey said, suddenly collapsing backwards onto the Fat Man's chest as the Fat Man undid his shirt and started to stroke his bare pecs.

"Nice work!" The Controller said, pulling off Andrew's shirt so Andrew was naked.

The Fat Man pulled off Joey's shirt. All the other men now either had their dicks out of their flies or their trousers and shorts down or off. They were all wanking themselves or one another.

The Fat Man unclasped the top of Joey's denims. "Stand," he said.

Joey wriggled off the Fat Man's knees and stood. His jeans collapsed to his ankles. "Sit back down and strip off your shoes and socks and jeans," he was told. Joey did.

Joey was sitting on the Fat Man's lap in just his mauve briefs. The Fat Man stroked his half-hard bulge until it was a solid little tube. "Now stand," he ordered.

Joey stood. The Fat Man dropped his briefs and had Joey step out of them. Joey was bollocks naked and rock hard in a room full of men, with their dicks out and pants down. Never in his life had he felt so exposed.

"Bids to administer the correction," The Controller ordered. The bid round was won by a thin, short-haired man, perhaps in his mid-forties. "Let's take him to the punishment room," The Controller decreed.

They led Joey to what should have been a bedroom. The floor was lino. The walls were red flock wallpaper. In the centre of the room was a strange piece of leather furniture. Joey was propelled towards it.

The Punishmenter, as it was called, had two rubber-clad pedestals, one for each foot. Joey was told to stand on the pedestals, which he did, and lean forward over a padded leather cushion, his hands outstretched. Then each of his feet and each of his hands were bound to the machine.

A switch was pulled and, with a soft humming, the cushion to the front of Joey started to slide downwards, bending him right forward. Then the pedestals on which he stood slid well apart, and the part of the padded cushion under his midriff and pelvis pressed a little backwards.

Joey found himself staring down at a video screen which showed a live picture of his arsecheeks, spread as wide as they would go. He could clearly see his own arsehole. Then a hand reached underneath him and inserted his half-hard dick into a tube, which started, slowly, to pulsate, soon getting him hard.

"OkK The Controller said. "The Punisher can begin."

Joey saw a hand descending rapidly onto his bottom and felt a sharp sting. The sensation was repeated, and repeated, and repeated, over and over again until he was yelling out and fighting his shackles and writhing in pain. But somehow, as he was doing all this, he was also getting more and more excited at the front of himself, until suddenly he came in jets of clear cum, shouting with pain and yelling with pleasure.

"Right, Andrew," The Controller said, switching off the machine. "Give Joey his _c_o_c_k_tail and let's go in the second room."

Joey was released from the machine, shaking, his arse deep read. The attachment was taken off his dick; from it, Andrew removed a tube containing Joey's cum. "You have to drink it," he said.

Joey drank it, gagged, was nearly sick, swallowed and made a face.

They went into the next room, on which there was a kind of padded couch, with two branches at its lower end. Joey was made to lie on it, on his back, one leg on each branch. His hands were cuffed on his chest. His ankles were attached to the branches. Then, at the throw of a switch, the branches first spread his legs further apart, then lifted his legs up, up and back over himself, so they were right over his shoulders and his spread arse-cheeks were completely exposed.

Andrew, his dick quite solid, came forward and said, "I have to break you in, Joey. Just do what I say."

Andrew produced some grease and began to stroke it into Joey's anus....

*** ***


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