Prose

"Hold still."

Noah fidgets despite my words and adjusts the collar of his shirt. I smack his hands away and smooth it out. I tug at the corners to smooth the fabric and tuck it back into the hem of his pants.

The shirt isn't his proper size; he has yet to get his first official callboy attire that he will use to attend to his future patrons. For the time being, this one that we're borrowing will have to do. I fold up his sleeves, making sure he's watching and knows what I'm doing and why so that should he have to do this again, he'll know how to do it properly.

Despite my dislike for the kid, I suppose as a professional there is some pride in what I do and how I do it; I don't want him to mess things up and spoil the name of callboys. ...Or perhaps my concern is more personal than that. It's hard to say. I almost want to shudder at the thought of actually feeling pride in this work.

Stepping back as I finish my work, I look Noah over carefully. With a twirl of my finger I instruct him to turn around so I can see him from all angles. He complies and slowly turns in a full circle, letting me get a good look at him. He's dressed in slacks that are just a size too big for him and a button up shirt with sleeves too long for his arms. The sleeves are folded up to his elbows and the collar is opened with the first two buttons undone.

He has no jewelry of his own so it's hard to spruce up his image. I don't enjoy the idea of lending out my own since they are all gifts from the men who I serve or have served in the past. Even if I hate them, if I ever get out of his place, I can pawn it off for some money to help me survive along the way until I find a steady job and life outside this caged life.

Well, even if I can't lend him any jewelry, I can spare a spritz of cologne.

"Hold your breath."

I take one of my older bottles and spray him. Just a little here and there; not too much. We don't want to make it seem like we're trying to mask any other smells with the cologne. We don't want it to smell like we bathed him in the liquid either. Just enough of a hint to please the senses.

After that, I run my hands through his hair. It's a horrible mess. I don't really know what to do with it. I don't have the time or leisure to really fix it either.

"Sit."

There's little I can do except make that horrible style look somewhat attractive. As someone young, he might be able to pull off the "rough" look, even as a babae. Messy can be a seller if done right. Let's just hope that Noah can pull it off.

As he sits on the edge of his bed, I take a little bit of product and weave it through his hair. Just a little help to perfect that natural look of his. Granted, I can't quite get it perfect myself, but it's enough to pass and so long as he doesn't touch it too much it'll still look presentable and less like a rat's nest.

Sighing, I wash my hands and roll my sleeves back down. I, too, am dressed and prepared for tonight's little... well, I'm not actually sure what to call it. Perhaps there is no proper label for it. I don't want to label it anyway. Giving it name made it that much worse.

I shake my head and glance at my watch on one wrist. Mistress was kind enough to allow me this time off to get Noah ready, but even so the time is restricted and short. We have less than two minutes to finish up.

Checking to make sure I have Uriel's gift on my other wrist, I return to the bedroom where Noah is waiting, staring down at his shoes. Even his shoes are borrowed. That will change soon, though, when he finally gets the money to buy his own things or else receive gifts from other patrons.

Watching him from the side, I can tell he's terribly nervous. I can't remember if I was ever that nervous when I prepared my first night with another man. I might have been. But then again, maybe not. I can't say.

"Noah."

Noah looks up at me with those wide eyes of his and does a poor job in hiding his feelings. "Ate... I d-don't... W-what am I s-su-supposed... I c-ca-ca---"

"You can, and you will," I cut him off before he can continue. "There's no other way around it. Either it was going to happen now or later. You might as well learn now what it means to be in this business while the chance is being given to you. Compared to some others I have had to service, this patron you'll be meeting tonight is kind. To have him look over your initiation will be beneficial. You will be treated gently."

Or so I believe. I'm not quite sure. I hope so. Should Uriel traumatize Noah this first time around, I will have to live with that. Lord above knows I have no skill in caring for traumatized callboys, especially not young roommates like Noah. I have enough trouble taking care of myself; I don't have the energy or patience to look after someone else who might or might not be worse off than me.

"I..."

Noah looks at me helplessly and stares silently until there is a knock on the door. It's time. Even if he had something to say, he can't say it now. I beckon him to his feet just as a Caretaker opens the door and pokes his head in from the other side.

"It's time."

I nod and glance back at Noah. He remains glued to the mattress of his bed. He looks scared of stepping out of the room. I can't have that. We can't afford to waste our time here. I snatch his arm and pull him to his feet. Even if he can't stand it, even if he doesn't have the guts to go through with it, he can't escape from tonight's engagement. If unless he'd rather risk countless hours of lashing, I would rather meet Uriel and bear countless hours of fucking.

Yes, I know, the choices aren't so different from each other. Especially not for someone who doesn't want to do either. Yet when those two options are your only two, what can you do? You pick the one that won't permanently scar you. You pick the one that at least you can heal from quicker. You pick the one that won't threaten your early death.

"Let's go," I tell Noah, casting him a stern look before towing him out of the room. My hand slips down to his wrist, not wanting to risk him running down the halls and escaping just because of some jitters.

Did he think he was the only one who didn't get nervous sometimes? Bull. But he'll learn to control those urges whether he likes it or not.

The Caretaker leads us to our designated room. I notice it's one of the suites. Uriel must have spent quite a bit on tonight's events. The Caretaker knocks on the door and opens the door for us. I push Noah before me, walking just behind him as we enter.

With my hand on his shoulder I can feel him tremble. I should feel sympathetic but I'm not. I can't bring myself to be so kind.

As the door closes behind us, I look across the room to see Uriel at the window side table drinking with another man. This... isn't exactly what I expect but then again I didn't really know what to expect in the first place. But if this other man is worth any notice, and I dare say he is, then... I have a feeling I know what's going to happen tonight.

Uriel looks over in our direction and smiles behind his glass. "Speak of the devil."

I offer up a smile of my own, immediately getting down to business. There is a role to be played as Uriel's whore and I fill it to the extent he wants me to. "You were talking about us? I'm flattered."

Uriel sets down his glass and stands up. He approaches us; I release Noah briefly to step to the side and embrace Uriel. He kisses my cheek and caresses the other with his hand. I smile coyly at him and return the kiss, my lips lingering against his skin before drawing back.

"This is the boy I told you about," I say and put Noah between us, as if I'm introducing my younger brother or child to an old friend. It's far from the truth.

Uriel looks down at Noah, the boy smaller than him. "He looks like a little kitten," he chuckles and takes Noah's chin in hand. My grip upon Noah's shoulder tightens ever so slightly, a warning to dissuade him from trying to make any fishy movements like jerk away.

Thankfully, he doesn't. But he doesn't stop trembling like a leaf. Uriel finds this amusing and turns Noah's face one way, then the other before releasing him and looking back at me. I smile at him as he half turns to gesture at the other man who still sits by the table, drinking.

"And this, my star, is the special 'something' I told you about."

The man turns his attention on us and looks at me. His eyes are... they're hard to describe. I can't quite tell what sort of man he is just by looking at him. I can't tell if he's anything like Uriel or Tony or Aldrich, or if he's completely different from them all. I don't know yet how to act around him so I just keep up my act for Uriel.

"It's a pleasure."

The man nods and tips back his drink before getting up and coming to stand by Uriel. Uriel claps a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Aurel Comiskey. He'll be helping in today's lessons for...?"

"Noah," I say, filling in the blanks. I lightly wrap my arms around Noah's shoulders and lightly rest my chin atop his head. He's just short enough for me to do so, though I know in the next few years that will change. He's in his puberty stages, after all; soon enough he'll fill out and become the proper shape he's supposed to be.

Hopefully I won't be around to see that day come.

"Noah, right. Anyway, he'll be handling him."

I smile and nod, then lean down to whisper low in Noah's ear, "Don't screw up." I can't deny Uriel's request, even if I want to. The best I can do is hope Aurel doesn't traumatize Noah and make life hell for me as his roommate.

With a little nudge, I direct Noah toward him. "Take good care of him," I say with a sweet smile.

Uriel laughs lightly and comes to my side. "Don't worry. He'll be fine." He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I respond by snaking my hands under his jacket and up his chest. "You should worry about yourself."

"Oh no," I give a look of mock fright and pretend to push Uriel away from me. "What am I going to do?"

Uriel directs me back against the bed, stopping just as my knees hit the side of the mattress. "Nothing. You can't do anything except let me take you." He kisses me on my lips, my cheeks, my ear, my jaw, my neck... trailing further down.

My attention is split, between listening for Noah's voice and his responses, and servicing Uriel like I should be doing. As Uriel sucks on my skin, I tilt my head to the side to glance over in Noah's direction. They have yet to do anything particularly intimate; Aurel merely touches Noah's face and arms slowly as if to gauge his reaction.

Noah is indeed like a kitten, frightened and awkward. He doesn't know what to do and it shows on his face and the way he squirms a little at each touch. I can only wonder if that will change by the end of the night.

As Uriel draws my attention back to him, I hastily help him out of his clothes as he takes off mine. My hands have long since become swift and professional in undressing another person as well as redressing them. If we lived in such an era, I could have been a good butler or maybe even tailor.

I purr while Uriel kisses me and maps my body with his hands. His movements are slow and leisured, as if he wants to take his time and memorize every contour and curve. I let him do as he pleases, finding no reason to stop him. (Even if I had the desire.)

As he wraps his hand around my cock and strokes it, my breath quickens ever so slightly and I squirm a little under his touch. "Don't you think it would be erotic," he starts out slowly and glances over at Aurel and Noah.

I follow his gaze, though I pretend I'm too engrossed with his actions to really pay attention to what's going on around me. Aurel has his arms around Noah, the boy facing away from him, with his hands snaking down the boy's front, settling on his pants. Noah, no doubt, is shaking and nervous, the boy's eyes wandering everywhere except on the hands themselves.

When they land on mine, they seem to silently plead for help, as if I can save him from his position. As if. I wish. But then again, I would sooner ask for my own salvation than his own. That is the way of the world and the predicament of people such as us who are no more than scum in society's eyes.

"Think what?" Aurel prompts without looking at Uriel. He seems to not care about actually looking at the man while he speaks, as if his attention is solely on the boy before him, watching his every move.

Uriel, on the other hand, has no problem being distracted, his actions still continuing despite his attention being diverted elsewhere. I am much the same, moving toward my patron with the nimbleness of a cat and the seductiveness of a siren, drawing him closer to me and pawing him like something pathetically needy.

"If they had to watch each other," the man continued. "What better way for the boy to learn than by watching Kahoku, his senior, in action?"

I don't really like the way that Uriel speaks as if I'm not in the room. As if I'm too stupid to understand what he's saying, even though I know he thinks otherwise. Yet his attitude toward the whole matter is a little... well, degrading on my person, as if I don't already have enough issues as it without that tacked on.

I want to slap him across the mouth. Or maybe punch him. Yes, punching would be very satisfying. But I can't do it. These damn restraints on my body and soul keep me from acting as I please. If unspeakable punishment did not lay waiting on the sidelines for me should I act on these impulses, I would certainly not be as well behaved as I am right now.

Never.

"And I'm sure that my precious star would love the idea of having an audience, wouldn't you, Kahoku?"

As Uriel finally turns his head toward me, I drape my arms around his neck and smile coyly. "You're so naughty," I purred and wove a hand through his hair then down his shoulder. "You just want to get me all hot and bothered, don't you?"

Uriel smirked. "You know me too well." He pulls back, bringing me up with him so that we're sitting atop the bed, smack dab in the center. I nestle in his lap, grinding my hips against his crotch and wrapping my legs around him.

In truth, I don't want an audience. It's disgusting. This isn't the first time I've had more than one person to please at the same time, but this is the first time I've had to do it with another callboy working with me. Granted, Noah isn't really working, he's just... getting his feet wet, I suppose. I wouldn't really call this a proper initiation into the business but then again everyone was different and I myself was something of a special occasion when I first served another man.

I still remember it well. But I won't go into detail right now. It'll just worsen my mood.

"Of course! You take care of me so much, how can I not pay a little attention to you?" I say and hold up my wrist where the bracelet he gave me dangles and the diamond glitters in the light.

Uriel chuckles and shifts a little so that my back is mostly facing the other two. I don't bother to look back though I can already tell they're watching. Noah, even if he doesn't want to, is probably being forced to watch. I bet Aurel has his hand down the boy's pants already as he, too, stares at me with those unusual eyes of his.

I might end up with burn marks in the back of my head by the time tonight finishes if he keeps looking at me like that.

A hand slips down my back and hooks under my thigh. I raise up onto my knees and feel another hand slip between my cheeks. With my arms still draped around Uriel's neck, I arch my back a little, sticking my ass out as I know he wants me to. I know, without him even saying anything, that I'm going to be made an example of. I will be the model that Noah will use to learn from.

I hate the very idea of it...

But instead of showing my ire, I moan and turn my head a little to let the others see my profile while Uriel pampers and prepares me for what is to come next. As if pleasing just one person isn't enough already, it's terrible and humiliating to actually have an audience. And no, this isn't just having other people in the room who are busy and too into each other to care what you're doing. No, this is having more than one pair of eyes staring at you and watching every little thing you do.

The necessity of acting becomes more apparent now than ever because of these additional gazes upon your person.

As Uriel plays with me, exposing every inch, every expression, every moan and scream and whatever the fuck kind of noise I make---there are too many to count or care about enough to realize---I put on the best performance I can manage that I know that not only Uriel will eat up like a starving wolf, but will show Noah just what it means to be not just a callboy but a babae callboy.

He will know that he would've been better of as a lalaki instead. The customers there were less finicky than here. Being a babae, he'll see, is much more humiliating and strenuous than a lalaki. And, like Addy once said, he should've just bore with it to being with or else he wouldn't have been here.

Now he's stuck being like me. Being fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked by men like Uriel and Aldrich and Tony and everyone else I've ever served who care more about themselves than you.

Uriel pushes me onto the bed and takes me like that, giving the others a far too good view of what I look like and the state I'm in. Aurel brings Noah close, sitting them on the edge of the bed. He's petting and stroking the boy with his pants caught at his knees, exposed and gripped in Aurel's large hand, drawing him closer to climax with every passing moment as the boy watches Uriel take me and forces me to give in to the sensation of sex.

During it all, I can feel all their eyes on me. Like I'm put on display, they watch me and drink in every little thing I do. I should be ashamed. And maybe I am. But there is one gaze that distracts me from fully recognizing that I should be feeling humiliated and disgusted. It is the gaze of Aurel.

More than once my eyes catches his and he makes me uncomfortable. His is possibly the first person to have ever made me feel this sort of discomfort before. It isn't like the type of uncomfortable feeling that I get from Tony, nor any other patron of his kind that make my skin crawl and anxious about our sessions together. Rather, it's completely different.

I can't bring myself to keep eye contact with him for long, which makes my gaze wander over to Noah who seems caught between releasing his own orgasm thanks to Aurel's skilled (or so I assume; maybe it could just be Noah's own inexperience) and being petrified with shock and wonder by the things I do and must do.

When I can't look at him any longer, I merely look at Uriel or the ceiling over our heads as I have often done before. I even close my eyes and pretend I'm elsewhere, in someone else's arms who might actually love me for who I am and not just because I'm a good lay or because I'm a whore.

It's the very image I need to reach true climax, gripping tightly at Uriel's biceps as I arc and moan. Uriel releases himself inside me and gives me a moment to shudder at the feeling of being filled so fully before he pulls out and I remain there against the bed, panting quietly but heavily.

With my eyes closed, I can only hear as Aurel brings Noah to his own peak and pushes him over the edge. The bed trembles with his shaking and I can feel the sheets shift underneath me. I open my eyes to see him bent over himself, riding out the waves of his orgasm. This might be the first time he's been given a hand job by a man before. If it shocks him, I'm not surprised.

I have the thought to be kind to him, but my thoughts are disjointed and my body tired. My eyes catch once more the gaze of Aurel who looks at me from over Noah's shoulder, his gaze indiscernible and strange. He makes me shiver and look away. I pretend I'm too tired to do more than cover my face with my arm.

Thankfully, I suppose, Uriel takes this as a sign to pause our activities and let me rest. I shift, curl up next to him, my head in his lap, and let him pet me as I feign sleep. I can't quite get myself to sleep, though, so I just stare mindlessly across the room and just try to relax.

It takes some time before I finally start to drift and by then, Aurel is giving Noah another lesson. I should pay attention, but I find no need to. Halfheartedly watching, pretending I actually care, I let Uriel lull me to sleep, for once in a long time sleeping in the arms of my patron in the same bed without cleaning up or returning to my room.

It's strange. Quite odd, actually. But I suppose I'm just too tired to do anything about it. And I have too little care to see through the rest of Noah's solo act with Aurel. My eyes close shut and my consciousness fade.

When it returns, it's already morning and all four of us are squished together in the same bed. At my back is Uriel and to my front is Noah. Just behind him is Aurel who, like Uriel with me, has his arm draped around Noah's waist.

Everyone is asleep, their eyes closed. I am the only one awake.

That is, until Aurel's eyes suddenly open and catches my gaze with his own.