Chapter 9

HOW SOME BOYS EARN ALLOWANCE MONEY AS STUDS

Here is what one young boy has to say about his experiences as a stud service for an older woman.

ARTIE, AGE 15 SCHOOLBOY. "I know lots of us skip school for a day and make the scene with some guy's wife. I don't get much allowance. So when I met this 38-year old dame when I was walking along, I figured this is the way to make money. Lots of the guys do it. I don't mind doing what she asks."

Artie is a good-looking boy of just 15. He has matured early. Unlike the preceding case study of Lester (in which the taunts and feelings of inadequate manhood led to his eventual capitulation), this boy had enviable masculine powers. He has matured and developed ahead of others.

His parents give him minimal amounts of money; they have five other youngsters so Artie gets a bare amount. He also receives virtually no attention since the household is crowded with all the children vying for affection. This may have been a motivating factor in his seeking older women as a parent-substitute.

"I wanted to buy some of the new clothes the other guys are wearing in school, but my old man is always raving about how much it costs to feed us and all that kind of stuff. He don't even know much about what I wear so I figured it would be easy to hustle (slang expression for prostitution whether with a male or a female) some guy and then buy what I wanted.

"Yeah, I used to hang out in the movie house balconies a lot. I'd meet some queer who would go down on me (slang expression for fellatio or mouth-genital contact, a method of perversion practiced by many homosexuals) and he'd slip me a coupla bucks.

"But I figured it was too queer. I didn't dig that stuff. Then I was once hitching a ride and this dame comes along. She was about 38 or so. Her name was Flora Nelson. She was married.

She had a wedding ring around her finger. At first, I was scared. I mean, I didn't want to fool with a guy's wife. What if he caught me? Man, he might beat me up!

"But Flora said that her husband worked all day long; if I could come to her house, she'd show me a good time. She said I could use some new clothes and she'd pay for them. That's how it began."

Young Artie may have used money as balm for his guilt feelings or conscience. Obviously, he is seeking a sexual thrill, and a possible adult-substitute for attention.

Since Artie had to see Flora during the daytime, it meant he had to cut classes in school. He lived in a depressed-factory area of the country where classes were overcrowded with limited facilities. It was comparatively easy for him to just take the day off and nobody would notice; the teachers would probably be relieved at the reduced pressure with absent students. The arrangement was convenient.

Artie was sexually precocious for his 15 years of age. When he first came to Flora, he had what she sought. A virile young physique with developed masculinity. He knew the score and he was only too eager to participate in debauchery to get his allowance money and also to experience forbidden thrills.

"You're such a big boy for your age." Flora admired him as she unbuttoned his shirt. "Mm-mm, you've got a nice body. Do you excerise?"

She continued denuding him. (In most cases of pedophilia, the boy is usually the passive partner, waiting for the woman to direct and lead. This often creastes a warped male attitude that conditions the male to follow this same inert procedure in normal relationships. It often leads to impotence if the partner is unable to take the lead normally relegated to males.) "You have such strong muscles."

He laughed as he felt her hands on his upper chest, playing with his nipples, then going down his side, to his waist. "Naw, I don't dig that gym stuff. But I guess I don't need it. I got a big muscle where it counts." He laughed again.

"Let's soon find out." The older woman's eyes were glazed. She breathed in shallow gasps as she opened the boy's pants, then inserted her hands onto his groin. She felt his shiver. She heard his gasp. Her fingers played with his navel, then she tangled in his pubic hair. She found his phallus and when her fingertips stroked, there was a gasp.

"Hey, that feels good. Want to pull down my pants?" He went rigid when he felt his pants sliding down. "Rub your hands over it."

She willingly cupped his flesh, felt the enormous swelling. She was hysterical with joy as she chortled, "Oh you're so big. So 'clean,' too."

He arched his eyebrows as he wiggled his hips so his pants could go all the way down. When he kicked them away, he stood nudely before her like a young Apollo. "Whatcha mean by 'clean'?"

The older woman was obsessed with fascination by the boy's smooth skin, the slight ripple of the sinews as she stroked his resilient bronzed flesh. He was so firm. He was virile so that when she cupped his scrotum, he was about to go off.

"What's that? Oh, it means they took this off when you were a baby." She fingered the extreme end of his shaft, and encircled the perineum. It made him sputter. She tweaked the glans corona to further torture-tease him. His testicles swung with his movements. He exuded a fascinating boy sweat aroma that she felt excited to inhale. "See? They cut it off. Some boys have a skin but they usually take it off boy babies these days."

It made him feel slightly embarrassed to hear such intimate talk, despite their intimate circumstances. But all he did was say, "Can you sort of lick it?" He was actually whining with yearning as he moved his pelvis closer to get the feel of her warm hands. "Some guys did it to me," in a throaty voice.

"Just a minute."

When she released Artie, she heard his sigh of dislike. She had to laugh. "I sure wish my old man would be hot like you. I can't get enough of it. That's why I like you young stuff. Always hot. Well, hold on a bit, kid. I'll get to it."

She worked swiftly, undressing herself. Nude, Flora showed a rather firm body but with growing corpulence. She thrilled at exhibiting herself before the boy. He took in her nudity. She pointed to her breasts. "Here, play with them. Come on, do I have to tell you what to do?"

Reluctantly, the passive Artie fondled her big breasts; in school, the kids were always whispering smutty jokes about a woman's top parts. Now that he had them, he did not get the thrill out of them as he had hoped. But he would not let on.

"They're nice," he said in a false tone of excitement. He hefted them up. He heard her say, "Just lick them underneath and then I'll do it to you."

He looked unhappy. He did not care for this type of foreplay. Already, he had been so conditioned for passive reception, he could not accept the normally aggressive role in normal sexual activities.

"Well, okay, but we better hurry. This damn thing," he rapped his thick lance, "is as hard as a rock!"

His mouth found the underside of Flora's breasts and his tongue explored the creamy sections. He felt distaste at it all. The acrid odour of her woman sweat was offensive. Another man might have thrilled at it but Artie had been conditioned to passive eroticism and being the recipient of attention and could not share the role with anyone.

She loved it and guided his head until he pulled away. "What'sa matter?" she demanded angrily. "Lots of guys would give their (vernacular for testicles) to get at these two big ones."

"I can't hold back," in a tight voice. He clutched his sexual parts. "C'mon, please...."

They did it on the couch. For some unexplainable reason, Flora did not want any boy in the bed she shared with her husband. It was sacrilege in her warped attitudes. This is an example of the peculiar set of values many perverts place on material things.

As Artie sprawled on the couch, Flora mouthed him; she used her mouth and tongue and teeth, biting, torturing, provoking him until he was ready to burst.

The boy's supple, vibrant young body was glazed with excited perspiration. Even his nipples stuck out. "Now, Flora, oh please ... ahhhh, that's it...."

They were silent as Flora mouthed and imprisoned the hot flesh in her cool oral cave. She tortured with her tongue. In a matter of seconds, the throbbing and contortions and the wave of muscular spasms told her the peak was at hand.

"Yea ... ohhhhh...." Artie reared up and bucked forth. The blood pounded in his head. His nostrils were drenched. His throat felt constricted. "Ohhhhhh...." He reared and then heaved as he felt the gushing proof of his power.

Spasm after spasm rocked his loins. He felt the blood pounding heat of it all as every nerve screamed for relief. Then, as the backbreaking wrenches eased up, he slumped back on the couch.

Flora still mouthed him even though he gasped and shivered from the raw nerve exposure. At long last, she released him. A few moments later, after washing up, they sat naked while drinking coffee.

"You're going to rub me a little," she said casually. "I wish you'd go all the way. What are you scared of? I told you I take the pill." Truth was, Flora was too old to become pregnant but she would not admit this to the boy. "What's wrong?"

Artie was still too young to consider himself warped because of his inability to effect normal intercourse. "I just don't want to get into trouble."

Actually, the few times he had tried to create coitus, he had been embarrassed by a receding power. His young virility ebbed and faded during penetration. Years later, he might become impotent with normal methods but virile when made the passive recipient of an act of fellatio. But right now, he was solely concerned with physical satisfaction and did not bother himself about the future.

"Rub me," she took his hand. She liked this boy's handsome good looks, with the dark hippie-like hair combed over his forehead, the pug nose, the high cheekbones. She likes the shape of his nice chest, the thick biceps, the casual innocence of the massive male power he possessed. She thrilled at rubbing her hands up and down those marble smooth and firm thighs. Above all, Flora was always thrilled to hold and fondle his massive male flesh. The kid must have been like a mule and the beautiful part of it all was his innocence of it! This added up to a fresh stud! But if only he could do it to her the regular way....

"That's it," she sighed as she imprisoned his hand in her channel by locking her thighs. Even his arms and hands were strong, precociously developed. "Use two fingers. OOOOooo, slide them ... rub my button. You know where it is. I showed it to you."

"I know, I know," the boy piped up. "I'll rub it." But it was this part that he disliked. He could only be serviced; he did not serve. Yet he had to go through with it. "How's that? Feel good?"

He had grasped her clitoris in his fingers and was twisting and rubbing, feeling it swell. He could tell by the dazed expression that this old dame liked it. Well, he figured he had to earn his bread. He'd do this if it worked her up. Maybe she'd give him more than the four bucks she usually paid. Man, he needed it.

"Ahhhh, rub it ... rub it...." She moved on the hassock beneath him and tried to simulate the rhythmic pelvic contortions of intimacy. She closed her eyes. She had to rub her swollen nipples, picking up the huge balloons and letting them roll around on her expansive rib cage. "Awwwww, ahhhhh, it's good ... ooooo," she sucked in her breath. "Keep on, rub the button, slide it around...."

"Hurry up, will you," Artie was getting-impatient. He started when her hand snaked out and gripped his part-flaccid flesh and started to slide. "Hey...."

"Go on, go on...."

Artie rubbed her sweaty flesh until the older woman gasped and declared in a delicious expression, "It's going to ... ooooOOOOO, yeeeee!!!" She all but leapt upwards when the first spasm hit her. "Yeeee!!!" She was hysterical with joy when the series of ache-pleasures tore through her loins. She had never felt it so good.

Much later, she gave Artie his money, patted his bottom, kissed him even though he usually disliked this part and said, "Give me a call and we'll set up another date."

"Sure."

"Don't go wasting this," she patted his bulge. "I mean, don't go playing with it."

Artie flushed red at this. "Aw, I don't do that kid stuff." He was always embarrassed by this suggestion.

"Well, I'll find out next time. You better save it for me."

There were other "next times" with Artie and other boys from the area. Flora Nelson kept everything quiet but it must have been a snoopy neighbour who saw boys coming and going and notified the husband. This was done by means of an anonymous call or letter to his factory It was enough to make him suspicious so that one afternoon, he hid himself in the shubbery to watch and wait. Nothing happened.

He decided it was just a neighbour's stupid prank. But when he received another note, he felt he had to do something to decide once and for all if his wife was cheating on him, and with young boys, at that!

The second time when he hid himself, he was astonished to see his wife opening the door to greet a tall, lean boy about 15 or 16. The kid even had his schoolbooks with him!

Now the husband was aroused. Hell hath no greater fury than a cuckolded husband. He waited until he saw the parlor lights go out. Then he sneaked up and peered into the window.

There was his wife, nude except for her black nylons and garter belt to match. And to think of it-he had worked overtime to earn enough to buy her that outfit!

He could hear the two of them.

The boy was completely naked; his pink buttock cheeks, naked rear thighs, the pendulous perpendicular stout log was being fondled by Flora. The boy was saying, "Rub it with your panties. I like it. OOOO, it feels nice, the silk it good...."

The boy was erupting into hysterical spasms when Flora laughingly rubbed the taut stretch of silk panties over and under his erect phallus, just as if she were "polishing" it. The boy Was all screwed up with electrifying bolts of pleasure tearing through his flesh.

Just as Flora was about to kneel, to mouth the boy, her enraged husband stormed into the house. "Damn queer!" he shouted to the shocked couple. "I'll fix you!"

He seized a butcher knife. He lost control and chased after the screaming naked boy. There were more screams as the butcher knife hacked at the boy's groin and then emasculated him. Blood gushed forth as the dismembered erect phallus was sliced off and rolled on the floor. The boy screamed from the shock of the pain; as he collapsed, his testicles were severed by the enraged husband.

Neighbours heard the ruckus and the authorities were summoned. Too late. They found a dismembered boy, dying on the floor, clutching a gaping hole where once had been his sex organs. They found a hacked and dead wife. The husband had gone out of his mind. It had snapped.

He sat on the floor, gibbering to himself. He never recovered from this daze. He had to be incarcerated in a mental hospital for the criminally insane.

So we can see that pedophilia has its punishments of violence.

There are mental as well as physical retributions in any of these situations. Some may escape public notice; but the mental punishments are often as serious as the physical ones. The parties involved may have their libidinal instincts fixated at this warped level and this may erupt into serious psychoses in later years. Any form of abnormal satisfaction carries with it the penalty of complete aberrational compulsive behaviour.

A penalty, by any other name, is still a penalty.