Bingo

Malchik 19

I am playing solitaire on my bed. I am not very good at it, but it gives me something to do, and I am getting better. Malchik 15, whose real name is Nicholas, taught me last week during playtime. He is the only boy that has talked to me since I arrived, and I think we will become good friends. I have been here for three weeks, it's been that long since the vice squad took me to this boy's home. The social worker thought this would be better for me.

"We can't have boys running around selling themselves to tourists, and getting money for vodka and glue," he said.

I suppose he was right. Besides, this place isn't so bad. I have my own bed. Since the bed is right next door to the furnace, it is warm in here, which is good, because we are only allowed to wear underwear when we're here. My name is Matvey, but in here I am Malchik 19. It is the number I got to replace another boy. I asked Nicholas what happened to the old number 19, but he only shook his head and wouldn't answer. I don't think I want to know.

We still get vodka twice a day (to keep us quiet, Nicholas says), but no glue and it's hard to live without it; I have a headache all the time, but Nicholas says that's normal. It happened to him as well when he came here nine months ago. It's because my body needs it in order to function normally. But in time I will get used to it and the headaches will disappear.

When I was living on the streets I used to get money for glue by letting men take pictures of me. We would find a deserted spot and I would pull my trousers down. Sometimes they would touch me, a few made me take all my clothes off and then feel me all over. It felt strange at first, but in time I got used to it. In a way it felt good to have somebody caress me like that; it felt comforting. Some would make me pull their pants down so I could suck them. I didn't like it, but they told me I was good at it, so I did it. Besides, sucking them paid very well. Other boys told me that what seemed like a lot of money to us was peanuts for the tourists from the west. Some men came to Moscow only because they wanted cheap boys to fool around with. I thought that was strange, travelling all that way just to look at boys' weenies.

Once a man came up to me at the bus station where I used to hang out. We went to the toilets and into a cubicle, where he pulled my trousers down. I sat on the toilet seat while he knelt down. Then he started to suck me. This was strange to me; I had been made to suck men off before, but never the other way around. I was a little frightened at first, but soon I felt my prick start to grow and a warm feeling came over me. He had taken both my balls in his mouth along with my prick, and as it grew, I felt his mouth being quickly filled up. He moved his head further into my groin, and I felt the head of my prick hit the back of his mouth. His tongue was sometimes on my balls and sometimes ran along the bottom of my now fully extended prick. I started to moan uncontrollably. My body tensed up. I had been stroking the man's hair, but now, as I became more and more excited, I grabbed his shoulders and held on tight. The warmth of his tongue on my prick was overwhelming in contrast to the cold toilet seat on which I had my naked bum. As I orgasmed, my entire body tingled; my legs forced me to a standing position as my prick began to pulse in the man's mouth. I moaned loudly as I came.

When the moment was over, I nearly fell back onto the toilet seat. Exhausted, I looked into the man's eyes. He gave me a concerned look, then he smiled, stood up and kissed me on the cheek. He took out his wallet and paid me twice what I had expected, then quickly left. I stayed seated for a while before getting up to get something to eat.

Later in the afternoon I was sitting on a bench outside the bus station. It was a beautiful summer day and the sun was shining down on me. It had been a good day; I had had many customers who had paid for me to suck them off, and now I was enjoying the last gulps of a bottle of vodka. I was drunk and the sunlight made me dizzy.

A white car pulled up in front of me. That was strange, since only buses were allowed in this lane, but I guess traffic regulations were never a great concern to the Moscow authorities (come to think of it, what are they concerned with?). I raised my eyes, and through a bit of a fog I recognised the driver. It was the man who had sucked me off. He gestured for me to get in the car. I thought about it for a minute. My recollection was that street boys that got into strange cars were usually not seen again. But then I recalled how good the man had made me feel. Surely he wasn't going to hurt me now, after being so nice and gentle before? I got up off the bench – and nearly fell over. I had finished a complete bottle of vodka over the course of a few hours, while sitting in the heat of the sun. I quickly grabbed the backrest of the bench, managing to stay on my feet. I set my eyes on my next, intermediate target, a lamppost about six steps away. I focused as best I could then quickly stumbled over, hearing the bottle crashing against the sidewalk as I dropped it in my effort to hug the post. This was embarrassing. I knew my friends were watching, and they must be getting a good laugh out of my efforts. Also, I worried about what the man must think, he must be repulsed by what he saw, a small boy, desperately trying to stay on his feet while transporting himself the few yards to his car. But he stayed where he was. Again I looked up, saw the kind and concerned look he'd given me earlier, giving me strength to throw myself the last three steps to the passenger side door, which he had swung open for me. I managed to collapse into the passenger seat and reached for the door in order to shut it. I nearly fell out of the car, but the man grabbed my jacket and held me. I pulled the door shut and he drove off.

The man took us out of central Moscow in a hurry. He didn't say anything, just like he hadn't spoken to me earlier. I figured it was because he didn't speak any Russian. Anyway, I would have been too drunk to answer him anyway.

The car trip lasted maybe half an hour, and took us to an apartment building on the outskirts of Moscow. The man parked the car and helped me up the stairs to his flat. The excitement of being picked up had made me sober up, and I was quite nervous. This was the first time somebody had taken me somewhere other than the public toilets, but I knew from the other boys' stories what was about to happen. I was going to have real sex for the first time.

The man held my hand as we walked down to the very end of a long corridor. I was still quite unsteady on my feet as he unlocked the door and led me into his flat. It was small, containing only a small kitchen, a bathroom, and one more room with a large bed placed up against one wall. The curtains were drawn, making the room gloomy, even though the sun was shining brightly outside.

Once inside, the man snuggled up behind me. He unzipped my jacket and pulled it off me. He kissed my neck as he unbuttoned my shirt. I could feel myself getting hard as he let his tongue run along my neck, over my jaw, eventually landing on my right ear. I found this very erotic, and could hear myself moaning in pleasure. Then all of a sudden the game turned a lot rougher. He had finished unbuttoning my shirt and made it slip off my shoulders, leaving my upper body naked.

At the same time, he bit into my earlobe, really hard, and refused to let go. I yelled out and tried to get away, which only caused the pull on my ear to increase, along with the pain. When he finally let me go, he roughly pushed me face up on the bed. I tried to kick out as he approached, but he was quicker, grabbing my right foot and pulling my sneaker off. He did the same with the left, and at the same time got a grip on both my legs, holding them together so that he could get them in between his legs. He clasped his legs together, holding mine in a vice like grip, allowing him to bend forward and undoing the button and fly of my black jeans. I opened my mouth to scream again, but the man slapped me hard across each cheek, warning me in bad Russian to keep my mouth shut. I realised he was a foreigner, but I understood him well enough to obey. With a quick pull, he got my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. He backed off enough to be able to pull them off me completely, leaving me wearing only my black socks.

Reaching under the bed, the man got out a rope. This I did not like at all. I tried to get up, but to no avail. He rolled me over on my stomach and pushed me into the bed sheets as he pulled my hand behind my back and tied them together, tightly. Grabbing my reddish brown hair, he told me to stay exactly where I was. Using the little movement he allowed me I nodded, by now terrified by the rough treatment I was receiving. The man now acted in the exact opposite to what he did earlier. He had been so gentle and kind; now he was a monster. I lay sobbing through the covers, unable to hold my tears back as he tied my feet together crosswise. I could hear him getting undressed, and it sprung to mind that I might ask him for some vodka, hoping that might alleviate my fear. I asked him this softly as again he flipped me over, exposing his nude, hairy body to me.

"Later," he said. "First you're gonna drink this."

I looked at his cock. It was only half erect, but growing before my eyes. It was very thick, and I knew I wasn't gonna like it down my throat. Of course I had no choice, and as if I hadn't realised this, the man confirmed it to me, grabbing me by the armpits and putting me on the floor, kneeling before him. I opened my mouth and took in his tool. It had now grown to about ten inches in length, and almost two inches across. The man was merciless. Before I had any time to adjust to the size, he pulled me by the hair, forcing his cock down my throat. It happened so suddenly, I never had a chance to take a breath. I gagged, trying to back up, but the man would have none of it. Finally, he pulled back, but only for a second as again he thrust inward. He kept it up, going a little faster each time, getting into his rhythm. It seemed he was in a hurry to get off, and I held on for dear life, sucking as best I could. It only took a minute or so before he came, but my jaws were already beginning to ache by the end. I felt his cum shooting into the back of my throat, and I quickly swallowed. I got most of it down; some spilled out through the corner of my mouth. This he picked up in his hand and smeared over my face.

"That will remind you to do better next time," he said, sneering at me. He pushed me backward so that I fell to the floor. He went to a small cabinet over by the television and brought out a bottle of vodka. He unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp, then came over to me, pulling me up by the arm.

"Let's see what you're made of," he said. "You urchins are supposed to be really good at this. Let's see how quickly you can finish this."

With that he knelt beside me, pulling my head back and forcing my mouth open. I felt the bottle between my lips, then the liquid started filling my mouth. I tried to swallow the strong liquor, but the man poured it into me really quickly. I felt my throat burn as he brought the bottle away, closed my mouth and pinched my nose, forcing me to swallow. He did this, time after time, until I had finished the entire bottle, with the exception of the few shots he took for himself. When the bottle was empty, he pushed me down on the floor again. I could already feel the liquor's effect as he stood on my neck, nailing me into the floor.

"What's this," he shouted. "Did you think you could just finish the whole bottle. That was good vodka, and you just pour it down your throat, just like that. You're a good for nothing spoilt brat, and I'm gonna teach you a lesson."

With that he pulled me up onto the bed. The vodka was already taking effect, making me unable to control any of my movements. And being already securely bound, there was I was unable to move any part of my body on my own. I was turning into a mannequin.

I felt the man untying the knot binding my ankles, and I was looking forward to some relief. There was none to be had, however, as he retied my ankles to the corners of the bed, leaving me face down with my legs making a V shape. He then climbed on top of me, and I was getting ready to be probed by his big dick. But instead he took out another rope, which he tied around my arms, just above the elbows. Then he pulled my already bound hands upward and tied them off, linked to my elbows, so that my hands were secured well up my back. It hurt my arms to be strained in this way, but once he got up off me, I could see why this was done, as he got out a thick leather belt. From my uncomfortable position, I glanced up at him. I managed to whimper out a "please…" – and then the first blow came. At first I just heard it, a soft thwack somewhere behind me. The came the pain, a sharp, stinging sensation across both buttocks. I gasped at the pain, having only the time to draw in another breath before the next blow came, just below the first one. This time I yelled out. It struck exactly in that sensitive spot where the buttocks and thighs meet, and it hurt like hell. Even through the daze the alcohol provided, the pain was excruciating as he struck me a third time, right at the small of my back.

Twice more the belt came down on my most delicate cheeks. By this time I was really crying as the man bent over me. He gave my butt a few squeezes, causing me to squirm.

"They're getting nice and warm," he said. "In a minute the welts will have come up enough for me give you fifteen more, and they will really hurt. How does my little whore like that?"

"Please, don't hit me any more. I can't take it. You'll kill me!"

"So what if I do. I can just go out and get another one of you. Nobody's gonna miss you anyway. But I assure you it won't kill you. I won't even draw blood. I'm just gonna soften you up to get you ready for your first fuck. 'Cause it is gonna be your first, isn't it."

His hands clasped my buttocks, spreading them as wide as possible. "Oh yes, that cherry is so red and rosy, it's gotta be a virgin hole. Isn't that right, whore?"

I nodded in silence as he forced my mouth open, stuffing a pair of dirty underwear into it. "I think you're beginning to make too much noise. The neighbours might think I'm hurting you more than you deserve, and we wouldn't want that, would we? Now, let's see, I just want to make you a little more accessible."

He took a couple of pillows and put them under my waist, raising my backside slightly. Then the beating started. At first I was determined to take it. Seeing as I there was no way of escaping, I tried to think of something else, tried to take my mind off it. I couldn't. After the first couple of strokes only one thing existed: pain. Pure and sheer pain as the belt descended on my warm, welted cheeks. I tried to get my hands down for protection, tried to twist my body around, but I couldn't. I was tied too tightly. At the time, I didn't care if I broke a few limbs in the process, as long as I could stop the beating. Of course I couldn't.

By the final strokes, I was unable to feel where the belt struck. My entire butt was one enormous, numbing pain. It felt as if it had swelled up to twice its normal size. I wasn't thinking towards the end. I was only vaguely aware of the belt striking me. I stopped struggling. I didn't want anything. Except to die. I knew I couldn't stand it any longer.

Then it stopped. I no longer heard the lashing nor felt the numb blows. Then he got on top of me. He lifted my head, holding me beneath the cheek, threading the belt around my neck. He pulled it tight and I felt my airway being blocked. I tried to lie still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he wanted. But soon my vision turned black, and my reflexes took over. I started to struggle. Only then did he release the belt.

"I thought that would bring you back," he said. "I must give you credit. You really are a lot of fun. Now, let's see if you're warmed up enough."

He left the belt where it was and sat up between my legs. I felt his hands spreading my butt cheeks. I winced from the numb pain, knowing what was to come next. My slight movement immediately brought me a slap on my right cheek.

"Lie still, he told me."

I felt something cool and wet being poured into my crack. Then something started pushing at my butt hole. A dick? No, it was too small. I realised it was his finger. I didn't know what to do as he pushed. I knew there was no stopping him, so I might as well help him out. I thought hard, then realised the only way I knew that hole would definitely open was if I took a dump. So I pretended that's what I did. Immediately his finger pushed in. He told me I did good, so that must have been the right thing to do. I wasn't so sure, 'cause it hurt like hell. In spite of the horrific whipping I'd just received, this hurt more. I protested through the gag, then screamed as a second finger joined the first, opening my hole further and turning within my rectum. The intrusion was violent and repulsive. It was a warm pain, slowly building as more and more of my previously untouched private place was explored. My muscles protested as they were forced to do the opposite of what they had always done for the previous eleven years. I heard the man panting behind me.

After an eternity of twisting and turning, his fingers were withdrawn. But before I had any chance to realise what was happening, he moved forward, burying his dick in one hard thrust. When he did, I think it was lucky he had gagged me, because the scream that was now muffled would probably have made me go deaf. I felt my body trying to rise, and for a moment, I actually thought I died and was beginning to float over the bed. I soon came back to life, however.

Immediately after the pain, a strange feeling came over me. It still hurt, but the huge warm tool snuggling into my body also made my body tingle. My own dick, which had been soft throughout my ordeal, now began to spring to life, hardening into the pillow. Meanwhile, the man simply lay on top of me, not doing anything.

"This is so wonderful," he whispered into my ear. "You are so tight and warm, I could stay here forever."

He still didn't do anything, and it came to my mind that he might make good his promise. Then, slowly, he began to pump. I realised that he hadn't got his entire tool in yet, as each stroke caused him to push further and further into my stomach. The feeling was overwhelming. I experienced pain, fear and pleasure all at the same time. After an eternity of increasing pressure on my bowels, I finally felt his balls against my tender buttocks, indicating that he would go no further. I tried to relax, and found that, despite it all, there was something about all this that I enjoyed. The man was gentler now, speaking softly to me in some language I couldn't understand, caressing my neck and cheek with his right hand and my bound thigh with his left. He fucked me slowly, only gradually increasing his rhythm, making sure I could follow him. His right hand pushed away the pillows beneath me, finding my hard penis. He started stroking it, jerking me off slowly, then speeding up. I felt his roughness returning as he pulled me backwards, making me sit up, his cock still stuck inside me. Given the way my legs were tied to the corners of the bed, and all the slack being taken up, the pain in my thighs was immense. In spite of this, I felt my dock hardening under his treatment, while his remained inside me, throbbing against my stretched sphincter and rectum. I breathed hard through my nose, moaning through the gag as I felt my orgasm coming. The second my dick started jumping inside his massive fist, I felt liquid spurting up into my intestines. He made a loud, roaring animal sound, lifting me upward as he came and, because of my restraints, forcing him as deep into me as he could possibly go. At that moment, I passed out.

When I came to, I was still lying on my stomach in the man's bed, only now I was fully dressed. All the ropes were gone, but replaced by handcuffs around my wrists. I heard voices behind me and turned my head, just in time to see the man receiving money from a uniformed police man. I was still too dazed to speak, but I realised there was no need to. They noticed I was awake, and a second police man came and pulled me up roughly by the hair. He forced me up on my uncertain legs, telling me to stand still and shut up. The man shook hands with the first police man, then came and looked down at me, pinching my cheek.

"That was very nice," he said to me before turning around. I was pulled out of the flat and down the corridor, hands cuffed behind my back. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that the police and street urchins were never a good combination, especially for the urchin. Outside they pushed me into the back seat of a police car.

They got into the front seat and drove off. I looked out the back window, seeing the man standing by one of his windows, the curtain now pulled open. A thought came into my mind – he hadn't paid me for my services.

The End?