Street Boy

(Mm) (enema, oral, rim) (humil)

You have to be careful picking up street scum. You never know what you will get, and I do not just mean bugs and germs. This kid, I actually did pick up out of the gutter. He was totally wasted. He was drugged out, and his glazed eyes rolled in his head. He stank of beer and piss. He was fifteen, I found out later, and a real fucking mess.

Dressed in a filthy stinking black turtleneck sweater, he didn’t show much of a body. I could tell he was slender, but then most advanced druggies are. The mop of dark brown hair on his head was so matted with filth it stood on its own. I could tell though, beneath the grime, that he had a beautiful, sensitive boy’s face. That and my raging boner were enough to make the risk worthwhile.

I hauled him into my car. He moaned and mumbled to me that he needed help and that he needed some drugs. I told him I was a doctor (lie) and that I could get him drugs (true). Once he heard that, he began to tremble all over.


“Please…please…I need a fix...just a small one...just something small...I feel like I’m going to die.”


He had a thick husky voice that sounded sexy. He curled up into a little ball on the car seat next to me, and in that fetal position, he half slept. Once or twice, he made sounds like he was going to puke, and I almost opened the door and kicked him out without stopping the car. What a worthless, useless piece of teenage fuck. It made me sick.


A couple of times, he reached for his pocket as if to retrieve something and burbled about making a telephone call to his girlfriend to tell her he was all right. I gathered he had run away from home a long time ago and had survived by selling and taking drugs. Perfect. As for the cunt that he called his girlfriend, I had no intention of calling her, although I told him otherwise. I calmed him by saying that I would get him cleaned up and straightened out and back on his feet and then call his girl.


He thanked me over and over in some kind of stupid teenage mantra, telling me that ‘You’re my savior, and I want to get myself straightened out, but could you just get some drugs for me, for now, to help me, to tide me over.’ Typical drug talk. ‘Tomorrow I’ll clean up my act, but I need a little more tonight.’ Perfect. I had the coke and the pills as well as some horse and lots and lots of pot.


He stank so badly that I hardly wanted to touch him, but I almost had to carry him into my house, where I sat him down on a kitchen chair and took his dirty face in my hands.


“Now, young man, I want to help you, but the first thing we have to do is clean you up. You have been on the street so long, god knows what diseases you picked up, so why don’t we give you a shower. Just peel off those filthy clothes and let me get rid of them. They’re all torn and stink so badly that’s it’s no use trying to wash them. I need to get you some new duds.”


He sat on the chair weaving, his eyes trying to focus.


“Do you got some drugs, man? Just something...some pills...anything...I need it bad. God, I feel like I’m going to die.”


“Yes, I do have drugs, and I will give you what you need after you are cleaned up. I won’t have germs and bugs in my home. Now the sooner you strip off those clothes, and I get the shower running, the sooner you get your drugs.”


Those were the magic words. The drug-addled boy staggered to his feet, burped, and then peeled off his turtleneck to reveal an even filthier tee shirt, gray with dirt and stained beneath the armpits. This boy had been living in the gutter for some time. The tee shirt came off to reveal an alabaster white body, covered with a film of soot, a slender waist with lovely hips to which his baggy torn jeans clung, a flat tummy with a tiny silver navel ring, and a thin but sexy chest sporting two quarter-sized nipples. A jungle of filthy pit hair poked out from beneath each armpit. There were also a couple of stray hairs around each tit and a treasure trail going down into his trousers from his pierced belly button.


“Throw the shirt on the floor. I don’t want it on my furniture.”


Next, with an unsteady stance, he kicked off his high tops and peeled off dirty white socks that had holes in and had not been washed in a month. The kitchen stank, and I sprayed the air with some air freshener.


“Sorry...I’m not too clean...” he mumbled, chewing his lower lip. His hands shook as he unbuckled his belt and dropped his baggy jeans. “I really need something bad...I can’t hardly move no more.”


“After we clean you, you’ll get what you need.”


He wore a pair of loose jockey shorts, which were nicely full at the piss-stained pouch.


“I’m a fucking mess,” he half laughed, half cried.


“You certainly are, but I can help you. We’ll get your life back together. It will take time, and it won’t be easy.”


“Thank you for helping me, sir.” his eyes became puppy dog big. “My girlfriend’s got some money. She’ll pay you for helping me. I ain’t talked to her in six months, though. She probably thinks I’m dead.”


“Take your underpants off,” I said.


And he did. He had a beautiful six-inch flaccid prick with a fat head hanging over hefty teenage balls. The entire genital area was surrounded by a thick patch of dark prick hair. The balls had a generous coating of hair as well. He dropped the underpants onto the floor and covered his prick with his hands.


“Sorry about my underpants,” he said in a baby kind of way. “Sometimes, when I’m high or drunk, I piss myself.” he kind of laughed as if looking for approval.


“Let’s get you into the shower,” I said, guiding him by one fifteen-year-old full round ass cheek.


“Are you married?” he asked, looking around the house as best he could. “Do you got a wife? Are you married?”


“No, I’m not married,” I said, ushering him into the bathroom.


While we walked, I glanced down to watch his balls and dick swing. He had a respectably full package for a fifteen-year-old. He leaned against the sink while I turned on the shower and adjusted the water, and then I helped into the tub.


“I’m going to scrub you down because, in your condition, you wouldn’t do a very good job.”


“Yeah...” he said simply.


He stood zombie-like while I ran my lecherous hands all over his teenage body. He balked a bit when I told him I had to clean out the inside of his asshole.


“That’s queer,” he said.


“That’s clean. Now, do you want me to help you or not? Do you want some drugs? If you do, spread your legs and bend over and put your hands on the wall.”


He did and was a sight for sore eyes. He had a gorgeous ass. I have a thing for teenage boy asses anyway. I stuck a finger covered with soap up his rectum and moved it in and out, finger fucking the kid. Then I pulled it out, showing the street scum the shit on my finger.


“Oh, Christ, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t realize how dirty I was.”


I shoved the nozzle up his ass.


“Now you hold that soapy water inside you. It will clean out your guts. Let me check your penis. Do you have any venereal diseases?”


Then while his tummy bloated nicely like he was six months pregnant, I fingered his teenage cock.


“No, man, I ain’t fucked a bitch in a long time. When I get really wiped out, I can’t get it hard.”


“I’d better check, just the same.”


I fingered his pisshole. He had a fine fat cockhead and a big pee hole. I lifted his nuts, which seemed really heavy with boy cum.


“Sir, my stomach really hurts. I feel like I gotta shit real bad.”


“That’s fine. We’re almost through here. You look like a different boy entirely, all squeaky clean. Now step out of the tub and let me dry you off.”


Either the drugs or his hard life had made the kid really docile. I amused myself, pawing the boy enthusiastically while I dried him off. He was a fucking beauty, all right. His nipples grew hard and pointed as I rubbed his chest until it turned a healthy pink.


“So you haven’t fucked a girl in a long time, huh?”


“No, sir, not since I last saw my girlfriend six months ago. Sir, I gotta shit real bad.”|


“Well, you know, I’m afraid that we need to wait a few days to see if you are carrying any communicable diseases. I have to be very careful what you touch, you understand, you were in the gutter after all, so I prefer you not to touch the toilet seat. Here, let me raise the seat. Now climb up on the rim of the toilet and squat. Now, shit that way.”


This adorable fifteen-year-old, drugged-out, naked boy was squatting bare-ass naked on the rim of my toilet, holding his bloated belly while his dick swung back and forth.


“I don’t know if I can go like this.”


“Just relax. You’ll be fine.”


“Do you gotta watch?” he asked.


“Well, it’s my house, and you’re a stranger. How can I trust you in here alone?”


He made a pained sound, twisted up his cute face, and could hold it no longer. He let rip and ass water and chunks of shit shot from his asshole into the toilet. It was a magnificent sight. I saw all the slop spraying from his cute young asshole. When he finished, he looked miserable and worn out and defeated by life.


“Until we are sure you’re disease-free, I’ll fetch a metal pail from the garage, and you can piss and shit in that, okay?”


“Okay,” he said, bewildered.


I helped him from the toilet and back into the shower to clean his hole again. After his shit, he was so weak he could hardly walk. When he got out of the steaming shower, he was even weaker.


“Now, let’s go into the other room,” I said in a kindly way.


“I don’t think I can walk, sir. My legs won’t work right.”


I smiled.


“That’s okay. Why don’t you just crawl then...and take your time. I’ll get some stuff ready in the kitchen.”


I looked up from what I was doing to see this slender naked fifteen-year-old boy crawling slowly on hands and knees from the bathroom.


“Can I have some drugs now?” he asked me.


I spread the towels across the kitchen table.


“First, I have to shave you.”


His eyes got big again, and his lower lip twitched.


“Shave me, you mean my body?”


I laughed at the bewildered boy.


“Well, you don’t have any hair on your face yet. Yes, your body. Do you know what kinds of bugs nest in dirty hair? You could be full of lice, and god knows what kind of shit. We have to shave you for your own good.”


He was too weak to protest. I gave him a bowl of food.


“Here, eat this. It will make you feel better. Sit up on the edge of the kitchen table so I can clean and trim your toenails and start to shave your legs.”


He looked into the bowl of brown mush.


“What is it?”


“Beef stew...I’m not the best cook, but it’s healthy and will fill you up.”


It was not really beef stew. It was canned dog food.


“It smells funny.”


“Look, when was the last time you ate, two days ago? Eat it or don’t. I don’t give a shit, but you aren’t a very grateful guest.”


He shut up and ate, and my boner leaked in my pants. I trimmed and cleaned his toenails and fingernails, and then I soaped and shaved his legs up into the groin. When I started to shave his pubic hair off, he made a kind of moaning sound, but I reminded him that lice lived there too. His balls were the second most fun to shave. He had a nice full, fleshy sack. When he had to lay back and lift and spread his legs so I could shave his ass hole. That was the best. Soon the druggie’s young body was as hairless as a newborn baby was and fucking hot to look at.


“Now we have to shave your head...and eyebrows,” I said after denuding his armpits.


“Oh, god…no...please, sir...don’t do that. I’ll look like a fucking freak.”


“Head lice are the most common and disease-ridden. We have no choice. It’s your own fault for living in the gutter.”


I shaved his head as he sat there crying while tears rolled down his fifteen-year-old cheeks. There was some life in him yet.


“Now, here’s the plan. I’m going to let you live here for about a week until we are totally certain that you’re clean and disease free and can live on your own. I will give you small doses of drugs to wean you off of your habit if you’re a good boy. You must obey all the rules of the house. You will shit and piss in the bucket, you will eat the special food I give you, and you will sleep on the hardwood floor because I can’t have my bed or couch full of germs. Each day that you are a good boy, I will put one hundred dollars aside for you. Each time you misbehave or are a bad boy, I will deduct two hundred from your earnings. Do you understand?”


“Yes, sir. Could you fix me up now, sir?”


“That’s one more thing we have to discuss. I can’t have a kid your age thinking that it’s easy to get drugs and that he doesn’t have to take responsibility for his actions. So yes, I will fix you up, but for you to get your high, you will have to please me.”


Even in his drugged eyes, I saw the light of understanding dawning as his shoulders drooped. He was street smart. He knew what was coming.


“I thought you were a good man who was going to help me?”


“I am, in more ways than you can imagine, but drugs must be earned. Therefore, if you want your fix, get on your knees and suck my dick.”


He almost refused. He wanted to, but he needed the drugs more. With utter defeat in his eyes, he fell to his shaky knees.


“Stick your tongue way out of your mouth as far as you can and wiggle it as you crawl toward me. That’s a good boy. You’re going to have a lovely high tonight, and then tomorrow, when you need even more and even more desperate, I’m going to fuck your pussy. Shake your pussy while you crawl. I’ve got good shit, fine drugs. They will take you to heaven, boy, but you’re going to have to work for them. Look at it this way, at least you aren’t on the street. You have a nice warm home. So what if you have to suck a little ass to get your daily fix, it can’t be any worse than sleeping in the gutter.


“Have you ever licked a guy’s dick? No? Well, then let’s start with the basics. Stick your tongue out as far as you can and lick with nice strong swipes from the base of my cock right up to my dripping dickhead. Now, lick my balls. Lift them with your tongue. It’s insulting to gag like that. Do that again, and I won’t give you any drugs tonight.


“Wait! Let me grab my camera and get a shot of you down there like that with your tongue on my nuts. That’s real cute. You know, once you get into the routine, I think you’ll enjoy living here for a lot longer than just a week. I can think of all kinds of fun games we can play.


“Want a pill? Here open your puppy mouth. Pant like a doggie for it. Here, I’m going to shove the pill into my pisshole. Now, fish it out with your tongue. Go for it, baby. Go for it. What a fucking disgusting excuse for a human being you are.


“Want another pill, one not enough to do the trick? Look, I’m shoving it up my asshole. You just get it out with your tongue. Come on, boy, don’t be shy, you know you need it. Yeah, work your fifteen-year-old tongue in my shithole. Fucking drugged-out animals like you can get used to anything—and I am going to prove it to you.”