Case History 3

Subject: Billy D. Age: Fifteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Billy was a run-away. He had been picked up by the police several times as a vagrant, and finally taken into a youth detention center when he was found to be living with a black prostitute who was some twenty years older than himself.

His job with her was to run for her fixes, and hang around in a small back room to threaten the Johns with a knife if they got to be trouble. For this he got room, board and all the sex he wanted from her.

I hear they got me into this place right under the line. I was only fourteen and a half when they picked me up, and as far as they were concerned that made me a little kid.

So I get to talk to you instead of doing hard time at that detention center. That's okay with me, because they said I could go free if you told them I could get my head together. There ain't much else they can do with me, because they still don't know my last name or even what state I came from.

And that's the way it's going to be, even with you. The kids have a saying that none of them can be found as long as they don't want to. Well, I'm one of the kids that never wants to be found. Not by those people, and that's for damn sure.

I don't care if I have to walk the streets for the rest of my life, just as long as I never have to go back there again. Those people are just too much, and I could never stand living that way, not for another minute.

It was bad enough when I was still living there. But now that I've been out for a while, and I can see that I was right, I won't ever go back there again. I've seen the world like it really is now. And I got all this from living with Sara. Before I got caught up with her, I roamed the streets by day, and stole to keep myself in a little bread and food by night. That's what most of the kids did.

Oh, I'm supposed to tell you why I ran away. That's the question that all of the adults keep asking us. Well I ran away because I came from a Wasp kind of home. Do you know what that means?

It means that anything that isn't White Anglo-Saxon Protestant ain't no damn good in their books. And that leaves out just about three-quarters of the whole world.

That's what I heard, ever since I was old enough to understand what they were saying. Jews are no good, Catholics are worse. But the worst of them- all was the Blacks.

Even Puerto Ricans were worth more than Blacks, and to them PR's weren't worth shit. I think the only reason they had them one step higher was because they didn't even know enough about that group to have the right names to call them.

That's probably why I took up with Sara in the first place when I left home. It got so bad around there, by the time I was past my thirteenth birthday, that I had to get the hell out before I flipped out of my head.

I was just at the age when all the kids were starting to have parties and stuff like that. Only I wasn't allowed to go to any that didn't have the right kind of kids attending, and weren't being held in the right kind of homes. And I could never bring anyone home from school, not even to work on a project, unless the kid was just like us in every way.

But the schools in our area have changed a lot since they were kids. And they were talking about moving someplace else, because they said they didn't like how the element was changing.

I had this real good buddy in school and we could have done a lot of great stuff together. But he came from an Orthodox Jewish family, and he had these long sideburns. Once they saw me standing outside the school with him, and they said that he looked like some kind of a freak. They made a big point of saying it loud enough that he had to hear.

That was the last time that he talked to me. And he wasn't the only friend that I lost because of them. But he was the last. That was the day that I packed one suitcase in the middle of the night, and then I split.

I wasn't planning to do it. At least not at that time. So I didn't have a chance to save up much money. And I couldn't even get to my savings account because they didn't trust me enough to let me have it in my own name alone.

When I made it to this city, all I had in my wallet was a ten dollar bill. And it lasted exactly one and a half days. I was cold, and hungry, and I didn't have the price of even the cheapest room.

It's a good thing that I don't have much trouble making friends. Because I got in with this crowd right away. I'm sure you wouldn't approve of them, and I know for sure that my folks never would. That's probably why I stick.

At first I wasn't all that crazy about them either. They were dirty. Some of them were on the hard stuff, and they wanted me to get high with them. But at least I was the only Wasp in the crowd, and that was the way I wanted it to be.

Every single one of them was what my parents would have to call the lower elements. And I wanted to be just like them. I was willing to do almost anything. And I did say almost.

Because I refused to get turned on to drugs. When a bottle was passed around, I would drink as much as any of them. But no pills, no smokes, and for sure nothing that was packed inside a needle.

There was one other thing that I did get turned on to. I got turned on to kinky sex, and I got turned onto it in a real big way. That's a habit that I don't ever want to break.

You may be able to keep me away from Sara, but I'll just go out and find somebody else. And she will probably be Mack as the ace of spades. If I can't find one of those right off, then any one of what you call your average minority will do just fine.

Maybe I would have gone on a while longer in the streets. Sleeping in the park and on doorsteps isn't all that bad until it gets cold. I'll say this much for your city. When winter blows in here, it doesn't fool around. I got one night of those chills out on a doorstep, and I knew that I had to find myself some other action in a hurry.

Most of the kids were asking around for the same kind of thing. Some of them had set-ups. I was invited to move into this one place with about five of the others. But I wouldn't go there because I knew that they were using it as a shooting gallery.

How long do you think I would have lasted in a place like that? I could stay away from the stuff on the streets, but when you have to live with it day and night, I knew that they would get to me sooner or later.

So I kept on the streets for as long as I could stand it. One night, when it was starting to snow, and I knew that I was going to freeze my ass off, I huddled into the doorway of this run-down tenement.

Most of the people who passed me on the street were part of my own scene in one way or another, but a little better off in the bread department. So they didn't give me any trouble. I got a few invites to go up to some places, but it looked like all the places I was offered to crash in were shooting galleries.

If they weren't they were already crowded with runaways from the year before. And then Sara came walking by. She was trying to get rid of this John who wanted her to take a beating so he could get his jollies.

When she told him to find a hooker who dug on that kind of stuff, he started beating her on the side of her head, just to give her a sample of what she was missing. I couldn't make out much of what was going on, until they passed under a streetlight in front of the doorway.

I got a good look at her then. It was easy to see that she was a hooker, but she didn't look cheap in anyway. Her face was beautiful, like those African women that you see in the travel movies.

She was tall, black and very elegant. At that time of night, and the way she was dressed, I couldn't tell that she was on the stuff. All I knew then was that she was black, a hooker, making her even lower to the world, and that she was in trouble with a white John.

So I came out of there with my fists flying, and even though I'm still on the skinny side, I'm a damn good fighter. That's one thing that my father gave me. He thought boxing lessons was the gentleman's way of self-defense.

I had surprise on my side too. The John didn't figure on anyone coming to help a hooker. So I got him with two good punches, and he turned tail and ran. Sara was so grateful to me for what I did, that she asked me to come inside for something hot and a place to stay, if I wanted to spend the night out of the cold. To me she looked like an angel from heaven. Who ever said that there can't be any black angels?

I think I would have gone with her no matter what color she was. But the fact that she was Black only turned me on even more. It was like everything I ever needed and wanted all standing there under that street lamp.

But I admit that her being black was dynamite to me. I never did any thinking about hookers, especially since the word was never even mentioned in my home. The only time I ever heard it was when one of the seniors in school said that he had gone to one.

Well, a Black hooker in the worst part of town had to be as low as anyone could be according to my family standard of living. And since I was out on the streets in the first place because I had to get back at them for being such damn hypocrites, this was the perfect set-up for me.

I know this sounds stupid, but I didn't think about fucking her. All I cared was that I was going to be out of the snow for the night, and I would probably be getting a hot meal for myself.

So she told me that her name was Sara, and since I didn't have a place to stay, I was welcome to stay with her for as long as I wanted. But I had to stay hidden whenever she had a John up there. I felt a little guilty that she was feeding me, and letting in her sleep bed with her.

I wanted to do something in return. That's when she came up with the idea that as long as it seemed like I wanted to stay, I could earn my keep by seeing that she didn't get beat up. Sara said that it happened to hookers lots of times, when they didn't have a pimp or a boyfriend around to look out for them.

But at first I wasn't either one of those things to her, and she said that it was okay with her. And get this. That very first night I didn't even think about fucking her.

Not that I didn't sleep with one aching hard-on that night. I had never even been that close to a female before, much less one that was a grown woman, and a good lay for sure. We had soup and hamburgers, and I had a hot bath. By that time I was so beat that all I had to do was sit down on the edge of the bed and I was falling out.

Sara had to help me under the covers and I fell right asleep. But during the night, I could feel her hot black woman's body next to mine, and when she turned on her side, I could feel her big tits, or her bush pressing against my skin.

I can't tell you how bad I wanted to touch her, but I was scared shit to try it. Maybe if I had been with a broad before I would have had a little more guts, but not much. Because she was still so different from anything I had ever dreamt about.

That was about the only time that all the stuff I had heard about blacks made me stop and think. I guess it's one thing to talk brave, but when you're laying there right next to a black cunt, I gotta admit that it does scare you.

Maybe five or six times I found myself wide awake. My hand was right on my prick, and I almost started jerking off like crazy before I remembered where I was. That was the freakiest night of my life.

The whole thing was spent going back and forth between wanting to make it with her and being scared shit to even touch her. And then it was morning, and she woke me up with a kiss.

"Hey, white boy."

"Mmmmm?"

"That hard-on of yours is digging into my back."

"Ooopps."

"It's okay. I would have been insulted if you didn't have one. What I can't figure out is how you stayed like that all night."

"I didn't know if it would be all right."

"You think a hooker don't want prick if it ain't paid for?"

"Maybe you didn't want to be bothered after work."

"Now isn't that sweet. But I want to ask you something. Ain't you ever been with a woman?"

"No. Not even with girls."

"That's what I thought. Come here to Mama."

That's all there was to it. And that black cunt really flipped my head out. After laying next to her all night, and I4 years of hating everything my folks ever said about people like her, I forgot all about it being my first time. I guess I was supposed to be shy and nervous, but I forgot about all of that shit too.

I was so hot and horny, and she was so hot and sexy, that we went at it like I had been her lover for about a hundred years. But when it came time to put my prick into her, I froze.

"That's okay. I'll tell you what. We can try something else first. I know you haven't done this either. But it might help you, and me too, to get, let's call it acquainted." "Whatever you say."

"Okay then. Why don't we try a little sixty-nine?"

"How do you do it?"

"We can begin with your getting the taste of my body in your mouth. Go ahead. Kiss, lick suck, anyplace you want to."

Well, she didn't have to ask me twice. I went after that sweet black body like a bee to honey. When I turned to her now, she pressed her body very close to mine, and when she took my mouth to hers so she could kiss me, I could feel her stiff nipples pressing against my chest.

Man, let me tell you. It was all I could do to keep from shooting right then. And when she kissed me, her tongue did all kinds of tricks and turns in my mouth. Whoever her Johns were, they sure did get their money's worth with her. I'll say that to anybody.

By the time she let my head loose after a kiss like that, I couldn't help but go wild with her body. I kissed all over her face and neck, and when I found my hands going crazy on her breasts, I decided that I wanted a mouthful of them too.

I sucked away like crazy, and I think I would have stayed there. But we had kicked off the covers, and she saw my hand on my prick.

"Hey, none of that."

"Can't help it."

"You need to keep busied."

"These tits taste so good."

"I got me something that will taste even better."

"You mean your cunt?"

"Are you ready to try it?"

"I'm ready to try anything."

So I started kissing my way down again, and when my nose started to smell that cunt heat, I went right out of my head. She didn't have to tell me what to do then.

I spread the lips of her cunt with my hands, because I wanted to have a good look inside. And then the smell got to me, and I pressed my nose in there to get a bigger whiff of it.

And then that wasn't enough for me either. I found I wanted to taste every inch of her body. First I licked all around the outside of her cunt, and the kinky hairs that she had down there tickled my nose.

"Stick your tongue inside."

She had said it so softly to me, that I thought that the words were coming to me from out of my own head. I opened my mouth, I stuck out my tongue, and I started to eat her out like the muff-diving champ of all time. It just came to me naturally.

But she didn't let me stay down there for very long. I felt her twisting around and taking me along with her. I'm still not sure how she did it, but there we were on our sides, and her head was right between my legs. I opened my eyes to see what was happening, and I was very glad that I did.

I can't tell you what it did to my head, to see that black face buried between my white legs. Then she took my prick into both of her hands, and stuffed it right into her mouth. Then she started to suck on it, and I couldn't figure out what happened to her teeth.

I was sure they were still in her mouth, but I was expecting them to hurt my prick, and they didn't. You could never call what she was doing to me hurting. It was more like the greatest pleasure there could be. At least it was because I didn't know anything else yet.

And I wasn't going to find out that morning, either. Because she kept sucking me and I kept eating her. Then I popped a whopping load right in her mouth, and my body shook all over. But I kept on eating her all the while it was happening, and pretty soon after that I tasted her come for the first time.

I was sure that I could have gotten it hard again in no time flat, and I was really hot to fuck her. But she took one look at the clock on the wall and told me to get lost for an hour. There was a John coming for one of his regular appointments, and she wanted to clean the place up and change the sheets. Would you believe that she had a different set of sheets for the John that she brought up to the place.

That's why I never felt dirty all the time I was with her. I never had to sleep on another man's come. And those nice middle-class businessmen were fucking her one after another, and their pricks were rubbing in the stains of the guy who was there before them.

She'd wash too when the night was over, and she figured she had made enough bread, and didn't want to bring any more upstairs. I got back in time to hide in the small storage room like we made up, and I was to watch through a peephole that we made, to be sure that the guy wasn't going to get away with anything that he hadn't paid for.

Sara had given me a quick run-down of how much she got for different kinds of fucks, and how much for blow-jobs and all the other shit. Any guy who wanted something else when she was through with that, was supposed to lay down the rest of the bread before he got it.

If he started to get rough with her, or turned out to be in the mood for beating her, which was definitely not on her list, she would tell him once to bug off. If he didn't after the first time that she told him, I was to come out of there with the knife in my hand.

I never had to use it, which is a damn good thing. Because even after spending all those months on the streets, stealing and all that other shit, I still don't think that I could cut anybody.

There were a couple of times when I had to come out of there and make a flying leap for the bed, and pull guys right off of her. Some of them couldn't keep it up, or maybe they shot before they even got into her.

She told me that was the reason they came to hookers. They were trying to work out their hang-ups before they tried to make it with a decent woman. And when it didn't work with the hooker either, they would take it out on her and want to beat her up.

A lot of guys figure they can get away with anything they want, once they lay their money on the table. Sara took her share of beatings, and then she told herself it would never happen again. For a while she kept a gun, but she got busted once and they found it.

And then she had me. So she said that her life was finally starting to get together. I would spend a lot of time in that room watching how other guys made it, and after a few days, I could tell which ones were good, and the others, just what their hang-ups were.

But then in the afternoon, she would disappear and I would not be told where she was going.

INTERVIEW TWO

After about a week of that, I was starting to care for her in a big way, and it bothered me that she was doing something I wasn't to know about. I guess I didn't want to think that she. was on the hard stuff, because I did see the track marks and I never put it together with her disappearing.

When she came back she would send me on some errand to the market or shit like that. That must have been when she shot up. Well, one time I came back too fast because I didn't take enough money, and I caught her at it.

It just made me so mad to see her shooting that poison into her body. So I did the one thing that she really hated. I started smacking her around. She went crazy, and the next thing I knew, she was coming at me with that knife. I thought she was going to kill me.

But what she did was grab my balls right through my jeans. And she told me that she would cut them right off the next time I picked up a hand to her. I tried talking to her about the "H" after that.

There wasn't any way I could talk her out of using the stuff. Sara said that it was the only way she could handle the way she was living. She had tried getting off it a couple of times, and never could.

And if I was worried about her getting busted, I was to run for the stuff myself. They would never think of looking me over, because I was too healthy and innocent looking. So I wouldn't be pegged for a user or a runner.

She was right, just as she was with everything that had to do with the streets. I never got picked up on suspicion. Once or twice when I was still sleeping in the streets, I got picked up as a vagrant. And then I got busted when I just was hanging out at her place.

Turned out the John she had brought up was a vice-cop. And that's how I wound up here. But before that happened, she trained me to be one of the best pets a hooker could have. That's what she said I was to her.

According to her, I wasn't her pimp, because I wasn't allowed to go out and get business for her. And I wasn't her boyfriend because I wasn't allowed to beat her up.

What I was allowed to do was take good care of her, and fuck her whenever she was in the mood. So I was her pet. She could have called me anything she wanted for all I cared. At that time I figured that I had it all made. Other guys who had come to the streets at about the same time were still stealing, and they all got busted for it sooner or later.

Which isn't the same as being busted for a vagrant. The second time they got picked up for stealing was the last time they were seen on the streets. With me, they just fed me and gave me a bath. And then I was out on the streets again. Even when they picked me up for being with Sara, and her with the junk in the house, they really didn't want any part of either one of us. Sara kept getting fines and junk. But the doctors always found her clean, and they let her go after she promised, word of honor to kick the stuff. Now she had a lid to kick. So in a way, it's not that bad that we both got busted this time and they sent her away to that place.

No matter how bad it is, I'm sure that she'll come out clean. With me, all I have to do is come here and talk my guts out. What can I tell you that will really go over?

Oh, I remember this one time that I was called in to help her with a John. Seems he was one of those who was on the other end when it came to beatings. He was willing to pay an extra twenty if she could get someone to beat him on the ass with his own cane, while he was fucking her.

The old guy must have been close to seventy, and I guess it was the only way he could get off. So she called me in and handed me the cane. I had seen so much shit by that time, that it didn't mean anything to me to beat the old guy's naked ass while he gave it to her.

And the hotter he got, the harder he wanted me to whack that thing across his ass. It was really funny to hear her yelling, "harder, harder," so he would feel like a real stud. And then he would start yelling the same thing to me, wanting me to beat him harder until he came.

He was one of the wackiest guys we dealt with. But he wasn't the only weirdo that we dealt with. There were a couple of guys who were regulars and knew that I was hanging out there.

One of them wanted to fuck me while Sara licked his ass, but I wouldn't have any part of it. The price went all the way up to a hundred bucks, and I would up smashing my fist in the guy's face, when he wouldn't take no for an answer. Sara lost a John, but she said that I had done the right thing. She never made me do anything I didn't want to.

Taking it up the ass just didn't fit the picture that I made for myself. But then another John came along, and what he wanted me to do, did kind of fit. This guy wanted Sara to stand up and face the wall so he could fuck her up the ass. And he wanted me behind him, doing the same thing with his ass.

And he was paying good money for it. So it didn't take me long to decide that it might be worth a try. Sara had been giving me pocket money until then, but this was the first chance I had to make any real bread for myself.

Since I still don't dig on doing anything that might be called gay, there was only one way that I could psyche myself into it. I made believe that I was shafting my father. Because it was what he really deserved for being such a narrow-minded creep. And when I began to ram my prick into that guy's ass, I could really see my father's face where the other guy was supposed to be. So you can be sure that I gave it to that guy a lot harder than he was expecting me to. He screamed like a stuck pig when I rammed it right in without even taking it slow. And I fucked that ass like crazy.

That's something else I learned. The guys that dug getting it like that when they were making it with a hooker really wanted me to hurt them. I did so well that he came back for more a few times.

And there was another guy who wanted me to do him while he ate Sara out. I used the same trick, and I did just as well. In fact, I kind of got to digging on it, because it was another way that I could get back at my father. There can never be enough of those.

Towards the end, I was doing all kinds of shit with Sara and the Johns. And I got to keep whatever cash was paid out to me. Sara never asked for a dime of that money, not all the time that I was staying there. Sometimes I think that I kind of love her.

Not that I don't know the difference between what we had and what a real love thing is supposed to be. I guess I always knew that it would have to end some time. But while I was there, I was happy for every morning that I knew I would still be sticking around for another night.

About the best trick that I ever helped her turn was the guy who looked so much like my father that I wanted to choke him as soon as he walked into the place. He was another one who was asking if she had a partner available.

He wanted me to fuck her up the ass, and after I came in there, he wanted to suck the come and shit off my prick. I really loved that one because he squatted on the floor, with his own prick in his hand, and looked so much like my old man, that all the time I was giving it to Sara up the ass, I kept turning around and spitting in that pig's face of his.

And he dug on that too. In fact he dug being put down so much that after he sucked my prick clean as a whistle, he went down there and stuck his tongue up Sara's ass, looking for more come.

It's like the freakier the Johns are, the more they pay. That guy had some money. He handed the money over to us, and when he bent down to pick up his shorts, I kicked his ass for him. You know what he did? He handed me an extra five just before he left. I guess in a way I'm glad that I got busted too. Because I was really getting into that S and M kind of heavy.

Whenever they look or do something that reminds me of the old man, I'm just itching to do them in. And if they're willing to pay cold cash just for the honor of having me give them a few whacks in one way or another, then so much the better.

But I'm still glad that I'm out of it, even with missing Sara. It was getting to be that I was handling all the Johns extra rough, and even the ones who didn't remind me of the old man in any way might wind up with more than they asked for, when they came my way.

If they only wanted to get fucked, or lick my cock, I would wait for a chance that I could accuse them of doing something wrong, so I could beat their face. And if not that, I would get them into a fight of some kind, and then I had a really good excuse for beating their asses.

Sara was starting to worry about that. She was afraid that I would beat up on the wrong Johns, or maybe do one in such a way that he wound up in a hospital, or maybe dead.

None of the Johns was ever brawny enough to put even a kid like me away. It looked like the weakest white men in America came crawling after Sara's black' cunt. And that's what got me thinking.

It could be that I'm not the only one who's more than a little curious about the dark meat. Sometimes after those creeps would leave, I would try to picture if they went back to the kind of home that I ran away from. Most of them did, I'll bet.

I wouldn't be surprised if they sat around their living rooms, smoking big cigars, and putting everybody down, especially blacks and hookers, just the way my old man does.

Maybe my old man would have come up there one day, if I had hung around long enough. I wouldn't be surprised. And that's why I won't tell anyone who I am. There's no way I'm going back there.