Brian picture by Tadzio
____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 6: Joan’s visit to Brian at his new foster-home, just before his 16th birthday, had unsettled him more than he would ever acknowledge. If it was his Father who had problems and was unhappy with his life, why was it Brian who had suffered all those years? Why should it be him who always had the bruises, always made to feel worthless? Why was it Brian who had to leave the family home and not Jack? Instead of offering an explanation, all Joan did was fuel the fire within him. Brian was in turmoil, not only trying to keep control of the fury that was threatening to overtake him; he was still trying to make sense of the person he was becoming. The one person he didn’t want to be was his Father. But the anger he’d managed to keep buried all this time was getting dangerously close to the surface and Brian was terrified that if it were ever unleashed he’d be no better than Jack. Brian had now accepted that he was gay, but since his relationship with Gary Palmer, he’d yet to have sex with anyone else. Jack and Gary were the two men who so far had had the most influence in his life. They were also the two men who had let him down the most and he didn’t think he could ever risk allowing himself to become close to another man. In the weeks and months following the meeting with his Mother, Brian’s mood changed. He’d always tried to keep out of too much trouble at school, knowing that in order to get a half decent career he’d need to buckle down and work hard, which, to his credit, he’d generally managed to do despite all the disruption. But now he was becoming more argumentative: challenging both his teachers’ and Peter Phillips’ authority. He was becoming sulky, moody and uncooperative and Peter was beginning to despair. It was coming to the point where Brian would shout and argue at every little instruction, every reasonable request. Social Services and the Phillips had thought Brian had settled and realised now it had been a mistake to allow Joan to have contact and that it should only have happened if and when Brian had requested it himself. Reluctantly, Peter and Sophie decided they could no longer cope with Brian's irrational behaviour any longer and asked that he be moved to another placement. Over the next few months, Brian found himself in several more foster-homes. His surliness and uncooperative attitude was making it difficult for him to be tolerated in anyone’s home for more than weeks at a time and yet no-one made the effort needed to even try and get through to this obviously troubled young man. Brian was starting to get into scraps at school and his growing aggression boiled over on to the soccer field. He’d always been a hard player, never afraid of the odd knock or two, but after being on the wrong end of a bad tackle, had exploded with his fists, resulting in him being sent off and the other boy needing stitches to a cut above an eye. The kid’s Father complained to the school, who in turn informed Social Services and a meeting was held to decide Brian’s future. The Department decided that Brian was out of control and needed closer supervision and firmer boundaries and as a result he was sent to reside at a group home. He was lucky the boy’s family had decided not to involve the Police. Martindale House was built in the '70’s and stood in large grounds. It had big communal rooms with high ceilings and large windows and was home to 10 boys aged between 13-17 years, with five members of staff on duty at any one time. The kids came from all sorts of backgrounds. Some were the victims of physical, emotional or sexual abuse, whilst others were in the care of the State owing to general behavioural problems or had been in trouble with the Police, following misdemeanours. There were two boys just older than Brian; at almost 17, Marco was a bully who picked on the smaller kids whilst the staff weren't around, using threats of violence to get them to do what he wanted or hand over what little allowance they were allowed. The other kid was Ricky, also just weeks short of 17 years. He was about the same height as Brian, a good-looking kid, with fair hair and green eyes, slightly stocky in build but certainly not fat. He'd notice Brian as soon as he'd arrived and it wasn't too long before he tried to strike up a conversation with him. Brian was sitting on his own on one of the sofas in the TV lounge room when Ricky sat down beside him. "Howzit goin?" he asked. "OK" came the short answer. Brian had been there for little over an hour and apart from the Social Workers completing the usual paperwork and being shown where his room was and a quick tour of the house, no-one else had so far spoken to him. “Do you wanna share a smoke?” said Ricky in a low voice. “They allow you to smoke here?” asked Brian. “Fuck no, but there’s a place out back near the storeroom where they can’t see us – wanna go?” “Sure” replied Brian. The two of them snuck out the back and around the side of the house by the storeroom. Ricky pulled out a pack of cigarettes, there was one left. He took it out, broke it in two and offered one half to Brian. Brian didn’t usually smoke, but something in the way Ricky had approached him, seemingly to offer some sort of friendship, had drawn Brian to him and he was grateful for it and didn’t want to reject the other boy. Brian placed the half-cigarette between his lips. Ricky took out a box of matches, struck one and lit Brian’s half and then his own. He kept his gaze on Brian’s eyes as he watched him inhale slowly, drawing the nicotine deep into his lungs, then suddenly catching his breath, sending him into gut-wrenching coughs. Ricky laughed, patting Brian on the back. “Take it easy” he said. Ricky gently rubbed the back of Brian’s neck until he finished coughing and his breathing had returned to normal, registering immediately that Brian didn’t seem bothered by his hand lingering there. “So”, Ricky asked, “how come you ended up here?” Brian shrugged, there was no way he was ready to answer questions like this from a complete stranger. “Well”, continued Ricky, deciding to ignore Brian’s reluctance to reply to him, “I was living on the streets for a while, and I got busted selling dope and I used to do a little, so as I’m still a minor, they sent me to juvenile hall and this is where I wound up”. “You know,” he continued, “you, me and Marco are the oldest here. The others are just kids. Marco’s an asshole, so if we stick together, I reckon we could just about do what we like. As long as the staff thinks we’re toeing the line, they’ll leave us alone. They don’t wanna make life any harder than it has to be”. “That sounds fine by me”, agreed Brian. “The more they leave me alone the better”. “Well”, said Ricky, “as long as they think we’re playing their game, life’s not that bad. It could be a whole lot worse”. Brian finished his cigarette, dropped the stub and ground it out with his heel. Ricky did likewise. “You know”, he said, looking up slowly, “there are other ways of making this place a little easier to live in”. Unsure of what Ricky was saying, Brian didn’t offer any comment. He was standing with his back against the brick wall, and didn’t have any room to move away, even if he’d wanted to. Ricky placed his hand on Brian’s neck and hesitated, watching his face for any sign of resistance. When he saw none, he moved in close, attempting a kiss. Brian quickly brought up his hand against Ricky’s mouth. “I don’t do that”, he said. Ricky was clearly disappointed, but was determined to proceed further. His hand roamed down Brian’s chest until he reached the fly of his jeans. Still meeting no opposition, he leisurely unzipped and put his hand through the opening, releasing Brian’s hardening cock. Dropping to his knees, Ricky took the leaking member into his mouth, sucking slowly at first and then faster, his tongue moving to one of Brian’s balls, licking it and then moving on to the other. Brian moaned and thrust his pelvis forward, pushing all of himself into Ricky’s warm mouth. Only once before had he experienced such exquisite pleasure and that had been with his soccer coach, a man twice his age, who had then laughingly dismissed him as a kid, with no thought at all for his feelings. Ricky reached up and cupped Brian’s balls in his hand, squeezing gently as he quickened his sucking of Brian’s cock. He felt them tighten before the first shot of fluid hit the back of his throat, the moans growing louder, threatening to alert others to their activity. Ricky speeded up his sucking motion another notch and Brian climaxed, releasing a stream of liquid, which Ricky swallowed thirstily. When Brian had finished climaxing, Ricky stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned. “I think I’m gonna enjoy you being here” he said. Owing to his behaviour and the event on the football field, Brian was no longer allowed to attend normal school. Instead, lessons were arranged for him to take at the home. Mornings were spent in study, but afternoons were free. However, Brian was required to stay within the grounds of the house, making it feel more and more like he’d been given a prison sentence. Ricky was still attending the local school and also going to drug abuse counselling. During his time at Martindale House, he had become a model resident, which meant he was able to come and go pretty much unchallenged. Returning to the house late afternoons and when they could be sure they wouldn’t be missed, as often as possible, he and Brian would sneak around the back of the house where they could be alone. Ricky still couldn’t get Brian to kiss him, but he did get him to fuck him. Up against the cold brick wall, both with they pants around their ankles, Ricky would pass over the condoms and lube he always seemed to have readily available. “How the fuck do you always manage to get these?” asked Brian one time, grinning. “Let’s just say my drug counsellor is pretty hands on”, replied Ricky. Brian tore the condom packet with his teeth, removed the rubber and sheathed his throbbing cock. Then, turning Ricky to face the wall, he squirted a little lube on his forefinger and worked it just inside the puckered hole. Ricky groaned at the sudden coldness and at Brian’s touch. After rubbing lube onto the condom, Brian began to enter Ricky, thrusting slowly at first and then pumping faster and faster. Ricky’s own cock was now demanding attention. Bracing himself against the wall with one hand, he began tugging himself. Both were panting hard, close to the edge. On the point of orgasm, Brian felt Ricky tighten around him, heightening his own and with one final thrust, they were both sent into the abyss and came together, Brian filling the condom and Ricky’s cum hitting the wall in front of him. Brian moaned and pulled free. He removed the condom, throwing it in the dumpster they were standing beside. Ricky turned round to face him and they straightened their clothes. “Man” said Ricky, “that was hot”. Brian grinned. “Wasn’t bad”, he said. Ricky took out his pack of cigarettes and was just offering one to Brian, when a noise behind the dumpster made them both jump. “What the fuck was that?” he whispered. Brian put his finger to his lips to instruct Ricky to keep quiet. Quickly, he pulled the nearly empty dumpster to one side. Getting to his feet was Marco. “How long have you been there?” demanded Brian. “Long enough” said Marco. “And you two are in deep shit”. Ricky ran around Brian and grabbed Marco by the arm. “You are not going to tell anyone one about this, you hear?” he snarled into his ear. “Let go of me,” shouted Marco. “Shut the fuck up, someone will hear us”, said Brian, trying to calm both boys down. Suddenly, Marco kicked Ricky in the shins, trying to get away from his grasp, intending to run to the house for sanctuary. Ricky lunged after him, catching him at the back of the knee, bringing him to the ground. There was a sickening crack and Marco groaned before passing out. His leg was twisted and obviously broken. They stood over him, and finally Brian bent down. “Marco, Marco” he called, shaking the boy by the arm, but getting no response. “Come on” said Ricky, pulling at Brian’s sleeve. “I’m not hanging around for this”. “What do you mean?” asked Brian. “We can’t just leave him like this”. “Can you imagine what’s going to happen to us if we stick around?” asked Ricky. “I didn’t touch him”, replied Brian. “Sure” said Ricky “And you think they’re gonna believe you?” Brian was suddenly unsure of what to do, but with Ricky’s urging him on, the two of them climbed the wall furthest away from the house, dropping onto the street below. “Where the fuck are we gonna go?” asked Brian. “What are we gonna use for money?” They’d left without anything, no belongings, no clothes, only what they stood up in. “I know someone”, replied Ricky. “Come on”. “Wait”, said Brian. “We have to tell someone about Marco. It could be a while before he’s missed” and he ran to a phone booth he saw on the corner of the street and dialled 911. Much to Ricky’s annoyance, Brian insisted on waiting until they saw the ambulance arrive. They walked for an hour, until they arrived at some rundown tenement buildings. Ricky jogged up the steps into the front lobby, with Brian following behind. “Who is this guy?” asked Brian. “Look” said Ricky. “We don’t have much choice in this. The guy’s name is Nikolai. He’ll give us somewhere to crash and will generally take care of us. But, he ain’t gonna do it for nuthin.” Brian followed Ricky down the hall. “What the fuck do you mean?” he asked, but Ricky was already ringing the doorbell to one of the apartments. It was a few minutes before the door was opened. “Nikolai?” said Ricky. “It’s me, Ricky Ferado – you remember?” The door was opened wider to reveal the apartment’s occupant. A heavy man, weighing 250lbs., Nikolai looked them both up and down. “Who’s this?” he asked, indicating Brian. “This is Brian”, said Ricky. “We need a place to stay and were kind of hoping you could help out”. Brian felt very uncomfortable under Nikolai’s gaze and was beginning to realise what the price of his help was going to cost. “We can probably come to some arrangement”, said Nikolai and he let them into his apartment. The lounge room was surprisingly clean and comfortable. “How old are you kid?” he said, looking at Brian, going over to the refrigerator and pulling out a beer. But before he could answer, Ricky jumped in. “He’s 15” he said. “Yeah?” said Nikolai, “I’da put him a little older than that, but if that’s what you say he is, then OK”. “You can stay here tonight and then we’ll figure out how you get to repay me. Help yourself to whatever you want from the ‘fridge, the bedroom’s through there” he said, pointing to a door off the lounge. “I’m expecting company, so you’ll have to stay in your room. OK?” Brian and Ricky went over to the refrigerator to see what there was to eat. Pulling out the ingredients for a sandwich, they quickly put it to together and grabbed a carton of milk and retreated to the bedroom. “Christ Ricky” said Brian, going over to the window and looking outside. “What is he, your pimp?” “He’s not so bad”, said Ricky. “It could be a lot worse”. “Yeah” said Brian. “I don’t see how and why did you tell him I was 15?” Ricky looked at him. “A lot of guys like to think they’re getting it underage, so if Nikolai can pass you off as younger, you could get to earn more”. They were sitting on the bed sharing the sandwiches and carton of milk. “What makes you think I’d be in to this?” Brian asked Ricky. “Well, what else are you gonna do? Do you have any bright ideas of your own how you’re gonna survive out there?” and Brian had to admit it, he didn’t. Shortly after, they heard the doorbell go and voices out in the lounge room, which then moved into an adjoining bedroom. Thankfully, there was the TV they could put on, which helped mask the noises of sex coming from the other room. Nikolai obviously liked it loud and a little rough. His deep moans were matched by another, younger voice. A young male, who didn’t seem to quite appreciate the attentions of the older man, requesting him repeatedly to please slow down, not go so fast or so hard, but which it seemed, were totally ignored. Around 2.00am., needing to find the bathroom, Brian heard the door to Nikolai’s bedroom open, followed by whispering out in the lounge room. The young man was leaving. Brian was hoping to return to the bedroom unnoticed, but Nikolai had seen the light on under the door and was waiting for him. “Hey, kid” he said. “What kinda trouble you in?” “What makes you think I’m in any trouble?” asked Brian. “Don’t bullshit me” came the reply. “You wouldn’t be here unless you had trouble. You turn up with only what you’ve got on, no money and expect me to help out. It’s only fair I get something in return, don’t you think?” And he put his hand under Brian’s chin and lifted his head, bending down to kiss him. Brian turned away. The man still smelled of sex, reeked of whiskey and cheap aftershave, all turning Brian’s stomach. “Playing hard to get, huh?” said Nikolai. “Well, kid, if you expect me to help you, then you’re gonna have to be a lot more friendly than this. Either that or one quick phone call to juvenile hall – what’ll it be?” and he pushed open his bedroom door. Brian didn’t want to go back into care; he’d made up his mind about that. And who knows what might happen to them after the injury to Marco. He was nearly 17 now and he would have to make his way in the world by himself and if this is what it took to survive it, then he realised he probably didn’t have any choice; at least for now. He entered the dimly lit room and stood in the middle of the floor, unsure of what to do next. “Are you gonna undress yourself, or shall I do it for you?” asked Nikolai. Brian felt himself shudder at the thought of the man’s hands on him and didn’t want them to be any sooner than was absolutely necessary. Quickly, he stripped down to his underwear. “Take it all off and get on the bed” instructed Nikolai. Now completely naked, Brian did as instructed. The bed was still crumpled from the night’s previous activities; the sheets still damp. Nikolai took off his robe; the only clothing he was wearing and got on the bed beside Brian. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out condoms and lube. “Turn over” he instructed. Slowly, Brian turned on to his belly, pulling the pillow under him. Having sheathed himself and applied lube to the condom, Nikolai dabbed some onto his finger, which he then inserted into Brian’s hole; the cold, slippery substance coating him inside and out. Brian had never taken it this way before and the forcefulness of the finger now probing deep inside him had him squirming with shock and pain. Nikolai withdrew his finger quickly, Brian whimpering from the action. He was held by his hips to stop him from moving as Nikolai sat astride him. Moving down Brian’s body, the man’s large, rough hands rubbed the buttocks beneath him. Roughly parting the cheeks to expose the hole, Brian was entered. Gripping the pillow as tightly as he could, Brian thought he would surely pass out from the man’s invasion of his body. The thrusts were coming faster and harder, pushing Brian into the mattress. Nikolai worked a hand into Brian’s hair, holding him down. The man’s weight threatened to crush him, making it difficult to breath. With his eyes tightly shut, Brian tried to block out what was happening. It seemed to be going on forever. His head was swimming and all he could hear was the man’s laboured breathing as he neared orgasm; his own sexual fulfilment unattainable. There was no pleasure for Brian in this act: only degradation and barely tolerable pain. Finally, with one last agonising thrust, Nikolai came: groaning loudly, now lying on top of Brian. Supporting the weight, Brian was in danger of being crushed under the man’s bulk. Nikolai rolled off and Brian winced at his withdrawal. Even the treatment he received by his Father had never left Brian feeling as used and abused as he did now. “Not bad, kid” said Nikolai, “but it will need a little work” and he slapped Brian on the buttocks before rolling on his back, where it only took just a few moments before he was soundly asleep. Slowly, so not to wake the man, Brian got off the bed and gathered together his clothes. He hurt, inside and out and barely made it back to the other room before collapsing in a heap on the bed. He crawled under the covers, but couldn’t stop shivering. Ricky was still asleep, blissfully unaware of what had taken place. Brian tried to block the memory of Nikolai’s treatment of him and the pain he experienced from his mind. Something he would have to learn to do if he were to survive. To be continued. 04 April 04