Five Dollars

Chapter One

Five dollars for a hand job, ten dollars for a blowjob, and thirty for sex. Those were my rates and no I'm not a girl. My name is Joshua and I'm seventeen years old and while most kids celebrate this, I see little accomplishment in it. I'm 5'7" so I guess I'm an average height and I'm pretty thin. Black haired and blue-eyed and I had always been told that I had a somewhat effeminate face, when I was young I was often mistaken for a girl. I was born in a tiny little west Texas town called West Town. It was boring, it had been boring before I was born, and if it doesn't explode or disappear in a time rift, it would be boring after I finally croaked.

I walked across the soccer field and up to the looming figure that was my high school, West Town High. It was a crappy school and I'm certain many other students agreed with me. I guess there were worse things in my life though. It was a tall, imposing, brick building that somewhat reminded me of a prison just without the barred windows and barbed wire fences. The building itself was rather unimpressive and about the only thing that didn't look like a big brick box was the large theater that connected to it. There were fields for a long way out to the right of the school, the ones that I was walking up, and they were followed by the tennis courts. Out behind the school was the bus drive-thru and even farther behind that there was a long track for the runners, circling the football field.

West Town was small and even being a prostitute in the town I could say that it was a very nice place to live. I knew that in the end, I would prefer to be a prostitute here than in say, New York or Chicago where you're going to be invading the turf of others or having some pimp come after you and beat you like a piñata. Had my life not been such shit, I would have lived a pretty nice life. There was the usual high school pressure and crap, but our town only consisted of about twelve thousand people. Enough residents to know that people aren't going to always know your business, but small enough to know that others you know will always be around no matter what you do or where you go. Somehow it seemed to keep people in check because in the throng of bodies you don't know, you're sure to have two or three who do and you don't even know it.

The town surrounded one long street. College avenue, which ran the length of the city as it started out as the two lane road between West Town and Big Spring. This street was where everything started and it was named such because it was the street you followed to get to the street where the little two year college was. This street was also where all the fast food restaurants were, the Movie Gallery, the Wal-Mart, and most other major businesses and the town was just smeared out across the ground from this road on both sides.

As I moved from the grass of the field to the cement of the pathway up to the front of the building I saw Amy Roberts, waiting for me not a few feet ahead. She was a pretty girl of average height and build, pretty plain all in all with brown hair, brown eyes, and lightly covered in freckles and yet she was pretty special. She was smart and not like geeky glasses smart. She was nicer than most people, fuck what the hell am I saying? She was probably the nicest person in my life, though that may not be saying much. Amy is and would always be my best friend and why she was, was beyond my understanding.

"You asshole! I've been waiting here for the last 20 minutes for you and I'm freezing!"

Oh, that's right; I was supposed to be early.

"I'm sorry, forgive me for wanting to show up clothed," I said.

"Doesn't usually bother you," she said.

"Bitch," was my comeback.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on Joshua, let's get inside."

Yeah, Amy was also the only person who ever called me Joshua. Most people called me Joe, Joey, Jo-Jo, but she was the only one who felt the need to actually say my full name.

"Did you finish your paper?" she asked.

"Did you fall into an alternate realty?"

"Joshua, for such a smart guy, you sure are a stupid idiot," she said giving a half-hearted glare.

"And you're redundant. Come on, you knew I wasn't going to do that paper and I sure as hell don't want you to do it for me. I'm fine."

"You're going to flunk! Again! How you ever got to the tenth grade is beyond me," she sighed.

"Like I care? The only reason why I still even come here is because you won't let me drop out."

"Because you need to earn a diploma so you can stop selling yourself like you do," she hissed, trying to make sure no one heard her.

Yes, she knew what I did.

"Yeah, yeah I've heard it a million times," I said and frowned as she looked at me with that hurt expression that bugged the hell out of me. "Look, I got to go, the bell is about to ring and I…got to go," I said and she watched me walk off without saying another word.

Damn I hated that sad face. Amy had a way of getting whatever she wanted out of me, though the prostitution was the one thing that I didn't really have a choice over. So it always ended up driving me insane as I saw her frown at me like that, with pity and fear and worry all rolled up inside of her eyes and beating me over the fucking head. It made me feel like a bastard for not listening to her and I'd want to tell her that I'd stop it but then reality would bite my ass and tell me I really was fucking stupid if I thought I was going to stop.

I walked to my first class where I took my seat in the back and rested back in the chair. My first teacher was a coach and therefore she didn't really care about me since I wasn't on any of her sports teams so as long as I was quiet and didn't bother the class I could do whatever I wanted, namely drawing. So I pulled some paper out from my pocket and started to doodle on a piece of paper.

I drew for forty-five minutes and then dutifully stood up and went to my next class, English; where after the bell rang I was asked for my 4 page paper over a book that we had read recently. My English teacher was with Mrs. Fletcher who gave me death glares as she found that the paper she assigned was not only not done, but had never even been attempted.

"So you didn't even read the book?"

"No, I read the book, three years ago," I said staring straight back at her.

"Well if you had read the book, it should have been simple to write the paper!" she near shouted, getting overly aggravated with me as she often did.

"True, but I didn't feel like wasting my time."

"Go to the principal's office, NOW!"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, standing up and heading for the main office, where the principal wasn't surprised to see me, greeted me with Mr. Ford, and asked me to sit.


My day was rather quiet, uneventful, as I walked the halls, went to lunch and my remaining classes and then to detention. When I walked out of the house and down the cement steps I saw Amy standing there, sighing.

"You just have to piss off Mrs. Fletcher."

"Yes, you know what delightful deviant glee I get from making that bitch's panties knot up," I said.

"Well come on, I want you to come back to my place. We can watch movies," she smiled.

"Sure, but I got to leave around six," I said and that frown appeared on her face instantly. "Oh! Fuck Amy, don't do that!"

"You're going to go out again aren't you?"

"Yes! I'm going to go, like I always do, like I do nearly every night," I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets and glaring off into the distance as I started to walk down the street towards her house.

"Sorry," she said and that was the end of it.

Amy's family wasn't rich, but you could certainly say they were comfortable. Her father was some kind of office head at an oil company and her mother was a stay at home wife and they had done a really good job of raising Amy and her younger brother Clyde. They were good parents and because of that, they hated me.

As we walked up to the two-story house I wondered how it was possible to keep it looking so damn nice. It was the end of fall and everything was dead, so how, with brown grass and leafless trees, did it still look like it was a beautiful house and just beyond its doors were a happy couple with 2.5 kids and a walk-in closet. Even I stood admiring how the red and gold fall wreath matched so nicely to the brown and yellow stones that made the walls. How the white washed windows and door made a lovely coupling with the stone and the smoke that came out of the chimney made thoughts of a warm home pass through my head. Not hard to see why I hated to return home.

Amy's mother, Teresa looked at me as she greeted her daughter and I could see the disdain, but I let it go. There was no reason for me to be angry with her, I knew she didn't like me and I honestly didn't like myself most of the time. If anything it probably made her a better parent.

"Hello dear. Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Not much, just a little math but that won't take me long and it is Friday," Amy said as she put away her coat and offered to take mine. I reluctantly gave it away, shoving my hands deep into my pockets as Teresa looking at me in my old clothes that were kind of dirty. All it took was a mother's stare to make you feel like a scab on the earth's ass.

"Alright honey, but don't wait till the last minute," she said and then went back to her domicile, the kitchen while Amy led me upstairs to her pink and purple fuzzy bedroom.

"I swear this place gets more sparkly every time I come here," I said.

"Oh shut up!" she said, smiling and then turned to her DVD case. "What do you want to watch?"

"I don't really care. It doesn't matter to me, you know that," I said as I kicked off my shoes and flopped down on her bed.

"Fine, then a chick flick it is," she said, picking one out and putting it in the DVD tray.

"Oh, yeah I forgot that I can't not have an opinion," I said as I watched her.

"Exactly," she said and went to the other side of the bed, grabbed a pillow and lay out beside me. "So…have you seen Danny lately?"

"Yeah, I saw him last night," I said, inwardly smirking.


"So what?"

"SO! What was he doing? Where was he?"

"God you're such a fan girl," I laughed as she smacked me with her pillow and I started to laugh loudly.

"Fine! Be that way you little brat," she said, glaring at me and then laying down again, grasping her pillow as she pouted.

"Oh come on, you know I'm just teasing. I saw him outside of that little bar, Kits. He started to work there helping Arnie out as a bartender and moving boxes and shit," I said.

Danny Pierce was Amy's crush, her twenty year old, drug selling crush. She had met him one night when she went with me to Kits one day. Danny had been there helping the owner Arnie and she had seen him in all his muscular glory and instantly felt her heart skip a beat. When he started flirting with her I thought she might faint.

Danny rather liked her, but luckily he hadn't done much more than some innocent flirting on the few times I had brought her around him. Danny could be a real bastard, but at least he understood that if he hurt Amy I'd have to rip his balls off, besides I think he could tell that Amy saw him with a bit of glamour surrounding him, the bad boy, and I doubted he wanted her to try and "fix" him. Especially since he didn't see himself as broken, or at least didn't admit it.

"So…did you talk to him?"

"Just for a minute and no the conversation didn't turn to you," I said looking to her and frowning. "Why do you even LIKE the guy?"

"Because he's so…dark and mysterious and interesting….and he's really cool! Not to mention that ass…I could just eat him up!"

"You do realize that he is also an asshole, has a bad temper, and is an alcoholic,"

"I know, you've told me before, but I just…I want to at least get to know him a bit more. I want…"

"To sleep with him."

"Well duh! It's more than that. I want to get close to him and have a real relationship."

"And your first choice is a fucker like that," I said giving an exasperated sigh.

"He's not all bad, you said so yourself. I think that if he had a reason, he would let some more of that good stuff inside of him show better."

I sighed and shook my head and let it go, after all it was a losing battle. I decided not to tell her about Tweaked. Not yet anyways. No need to pop her bubble just yet as I turned back to the TV.

That night I left Amy's though rather reluctantly. I went to Kits first, it was a quiet hangout and there I could find whatever I needed, drugs, alcohol, smokes, or, unfortunately, a trick. As I passed through the front door several of the men sized me up, dressed in low hip huggers and a t-shirt that I had cut a large portion of the bottom off of to show my stomach. They knew why I was there; many of them had already slept with me.

It wasn't really a secret what I did, but to the common population, it wasn't well known. My teachers for instance didn't have any idea what I did. There were quite a few of my fellow male students who knew, but they didn't talk about it too much, after all, no one wanted to talk about it for fear people would question how they knew what I did. Yeah, they could have easily caught me doing something, but it was just as likely that they were some of my customers and there wasn't a jock in the world that is willing to be called fag.

Kits was kind of a dive. It was old, pretty run down, but the toilets worked and the beers were kept cold. Not to mention, Arnie, the owner, was willing to let just about anything happen as long as he could feign ignorance and it didn't cause him to lose money. So the fact that the bar was likely to go up in flames one day, that the mens bathroom didn't have a door, the jukebox didn't work, and the cockroaches were as big as cats didn't matter to truckers, bikers, roughnecks, and any general sleaze in town.

I walked up to the bar and saw Danny in a back room moving boxes, more than likely about to leave. He gave me a glance, but didn't feel the need to say hello as he disappeared out of sight. I sat down on the barstool leaning forward a little to show off that I wore a black thong, the most annoying piece of clothing in the world, but it got attention.

It had been kind of a hard start whenever I first started working Kits for johns. I had to come on to them, let them know I was for hire, which is harder when your fifteen because believe it or not there were some of these guys who weren't willing to fuck what is essentially a child. Most don't care, but hey morality isn't completely dead, I think. As I kept coming and I was seen more, taking money, seen walking to their cars or behind the bar and then limping back, they started to get the picture. Now it was just a waiting game.

"What's going on?" Arnie asked as he walked behind the bar and moved to me.

"Nothing much, I'm just here to earn a little money," I said.

"Fine if you want to stick around for awhile but you better buy something or get out," he said.

That was fine. Arnie and I had a little deal, as long as I had a beer in hand while I was waiting, he didn't call the cops to bust my ass for underage prostitution or the hundred million other things that I could get sent to jail for. I suppose I appreciated it, sort of. I laid some cash on the bar and he popped the top off a beer and handed it to me.

I wasn't especially fond of beer, alcohol in general wasn't really my thing, "E" was usually my addiction of choice, but a little helped to relax me enough to where when I felt a guy wrap his arm around my waist I wouldn't run in the other direction. Whores don't get to be choosy though so after I had been nursing my beer for about fifteen minutes, I had to stop the shudder as I felt a hand on my lower back.

I looked beside me and smiled as a man slipped onto the bar stool beside me. He smiled back at me. He was an out of towner, a trucker by the looks of him, which had its good and bad. Truckers had the back of their cabs to have sex in, which meant it was free of charge; you're less likely to be seen, and possibly even heard. The downside was that you don't how much of a bastard that particular trucker is and suddenly that private cab is a torture chamber and you can only hope that he intends to let you go.

This particular trucker wasn't exactly a looker, but of the many I had slept with, he had a smaller beer gut and seemed to have showered recently. If I had a choice in the matter, he certainly wouldn't be my first pick, but at least he was decent looking.

"Now what would your parents say if they saw you here?" he asked.

"Aw, are you going to tell on me?" I asked trying to fake a bit of innocence.

"Not if you're a good little boy," he said and his hand came down along my side and went to my thigh. I looked to it and reached down, placing my own hand over his.

"Only for you," I said and gave him a look that I hoped conveyed sexiness more than disgust.

We ended up back at his truck cab which was kind of cold but he didn't make any moves to lock any doors on me and he paid me up front. He was a chivalrous john; he had even opened the door for me. He told me his name was Butch and I couldn't believe how clichéd it sounded, but it didn't really matter, in a week I wouldn't remember Butch's name and I didn't want to.

I didn't waste my time in getting my pants and underwear undone and down. He coaxed me into lying back on the small mattress and he stared down at me, running his hands over sides and pushing my shirt up high.

"Sorry it's so cold, baby," he said as he leaned down to suck at one of my nipples. His breath felt warm and wet and it smelt badly of alcohol, apparently he had been at the bar a while longer than I had.

"I have a condom in my pocket," I said.

"Good," he said.

That was one thing that I insisted on, condoms. It was dangerous enough doing this job; I didn't need to contract any diseases. It was a shitty existence but I did enjoy existing. Many of my johns agree, they didn't know what I would be carrying, but there were just about as many who disagreed and if I was lucky, they'd take their money back and leave. I don't think I need to go into what happens if I wasn't lucky.

Butch didn't waste time in getting me aroused and started stretching me open. One thing about being a guy prostitute is that you can't really fake arousal or if we could I hadn't learned how. So if Willy wasn't being cooperative, whether because of the john, because of the cold, or just because, the guy would know. Some johns felt that it mattered; other guys didn't give a damn just wanting their own gratification. Luckily though, at least in the thought that it was one extra beating I didn't get, I had never encountered that problem with a john as of yet, hopefully I never would.

Butch pushed into me and started a slow pace that gained momentum over time. I grunted as he pushed into me and moaned rather convincingly. It brought to me the usual feelings of nausea and hatred for myself, but more than making me feel like I was a disgusting piece of trash for letting him do this to me, I felt gross.

Sex, in general, is gross. It's wet and noisy and bodily fluids ran rampant from saliva to cum and sometimes blood, depending on what you're into. When you're doing it with someone you find attractive or you love, then it doesn't matter, you don't notice, you just want to do it, but whenever you're doing it for money, you take notice of a lot more.

Butch went at me for a good while and finally came inside the condom. He pulled out and took the condom off of his cock, throwing it away. He sat back and watched me as I sat up not but a couple of minutes later and grabbed up my underwear.

"You should probably lie down for a minute. I bet that hurts." he said.

He was right, it hurt but nowhere near as bad as it did the first time so I didn't stop, I didn't really have time to sit and wait. I pulled on my pants.

"No it's alright. I'm used to it," I leaned in and gave him a little peck. "Next time you're in town, come back to Kits, I bet you'll find me," I said and then I crawled out of his truck and walked back to the bar.

My next customer was quite a bit younger than Butch. In fact, he was one of my classmates, a senior who I knew vaguely as one of the guys on the football team. I wasn't surprised to see him, he wasn't the first. Most guys were afraid or unwilling to tell their sexual preference and that went double for football stars, it was just too easy to go from beloved star player to the fag not allowed on the team anymore. And that was just at school, you didn't want to know what happened at home. So if they could get their rocks off with a guy they knew wouldn't go blabbing or want a relationship, they did.

His name was Derek if I remembered correctly. He put his hands on my hips and smirked at me. He invited me outside and I told him only if he had the money. He flashed some cash, not wanting to give it to me in front of everyone. I nodded and followed him outside, past the bouncers at the door and around the building, figuring that we would probably be doing it against the back wall of the square brick building, which sucked. It was too damn cold.

As I rounded the corner though, I instantly knew I was wrong. Standing behind the building were three other guys, all on the football team too. This wasn't good. I tried backing up, knowing I had to run, but I found myself against Derek's hard chest and I was instantly filled with dread as he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me towards the other three. Needless to say, I was scared shitless.

One of the others grabbed me, Kenny was his name. He wrapped his arms about me and held me close.

"Hey there cock slut. Having fun tonight?"

"Of course he is! He's been out sucking the cocks of every guy in that bar. Ain't that right bitch?" Derek said, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back painfully to look into my face.

"Let me go! I haven't done shit to you guys!" I shouted.

"Does it matter? You're the little shit that's trying to turn every guy in town into a fucking fag!" one of the other ones shouted, his name I didn't know.

"We're here to teach you a lesson," Derek said giving my hair a painful jerk. Kenny then threw me on the ground and I damn near pissed myself as the fourth guy, Mike, gave a sadistic grin and started to flash a bat and I knew the only thing I could be grateful for was that it was wood and not aluminum.

It came down once on my stomach and fuck did it hurt. I gave out a garbled cry and was instantly worried about internal bleeding. If I lived, I knew I'd have to go to the hospital. I rolled onto my side and it wasn't long before I felt the wood make contact with the sensitive flesh just underneath my ribs and spit flew from my mouth as I shouted again.

"Careful Mike, you don't want to kill him. As much as I'd like to, someone may notice the little whore is gone," Kenny said.

"Shit…" I groaned as I grasped my stomach. "Stop…please…" I moaned but I knew that was stupid as they all laughed.

"The bitch wants us to stop, how cute," said the one guy I didn't know. "We're just getting started. Aren't you having fun slut?" he asked punctuating the question by kicking me in the balls and I groaned and grasped at the sensitive area.

They took turns kicking me and beating me with the bat, turning it into a real party as they broke out the beer and started drinking. They held me up and punched me several times, spitting on me and pouring beer on my head and down my throat to make me splutter and cough. Before long I was sobbing like a little girl and I was lying in the dirt with torn clothes, and blood leaking out of various cuts, not to mention my mouth.

They got tired of it as they always did and finally stepped back. Bored they turned away from me and went around to the front of the bar, leaving me to live or die, whichever. This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened to me. I was often getting my ass beat for various reasons. What was worse was whenever they raped me. I had been raped, gang-banged, and forced to do some really gross and humiliating things that I don't want to get into. It made me hate myself all the more.

I wondered if I could walk. As I laid there trying to will myself to my feet, I knew it wasn't going to happen. I was too tired and too hurt. Blood seemed to pour from my body and I didn't seem to have any strength to call my own anymore. So I just closed my eyes, hoping that they would open again and as I drifted off to sleep I thought I heard the sound of boots on dirt.

I watched as the world came into view and I was lying out in the middle of a field and for some reason I no longer hurt. The sky above me was bright and beautiful and as I looked about I didn't see Kits or the trucks or well…anything. Everything around me was simply a field of flowers and for the first time in probably ever I felt at peace.

The flowers smelt wonderful and not too far away from where I was lying there was a large tree, oak I guess, that provided me with shade and the leaves laughed as the breeze tickled its branches. I felt a hand in my hair.

As I looked up there was someone sitting on the grass beside me, but the sun shone just above them and I couldn't see the person's face. He or she had long red hair and the hand that went through my hair was gentle and sweet. They said nothing to me and that was fine, nothing needed to be said. I curled up towards that warmth and rested my head in this strange person's lap, closing my eyes and knowing that I was happy.

"I love you Joshua."

How long it was since I had gone to sleep, I don't know, but I opened my eyes and I was staring at a white ceiling. I was in a clean bed and there was the sound of beeping in the air. I was in a hospital room and I wasn't surprised, though how I ended up there was beyond me. I looked around the hospital room and sat up, just as I heard the door open. It hurt to breath and I figured I had a broken rib. My body in general ached and everything was sensitive and I had a headache.

"Oh! You're awake," it was a young blonde nurse who smiled at me, dressed in a shirt with little teddy bears on it.

"Y-Yeah…how…did I get here?" I asked.

"You were dropped off, someone said that they saw a man with black hair dropping you off and leaving you in front of the hospital."

I knew instantly it was Danny.

"Well I guess I'll go get the doctor. I'll be back in just a minute," she said and walked out of the room.

The thing about hospitals is that even though a nurse says she'll be right back with a doctor, it's rare that it's actually true. Unlike in TV shows where the nurse walks out and the doctor walks in, anything in a real life hospital took fifteen minutes, at least. Usually more, which was good, at least in my case.

I reached down and peeled the tape off of my IV and hissed in pain as I pulled the needle out, letting the contents of the IV bag drip onto the floor. I slipped out of the bed and felt weak in my knees and I wondered how long I had been there. Hopefully not long.

I knew that my clothing was probably just shreds in a trash can now so I didn't bother searching the room, simply pulling a blanket from the hospital bed and wrapping it about myself, and just went to the door. It was quiet as I peeked out and looked up and down the hall. The nurse's station was just up the way from my bedroom and I was glad to see that they were all busy doing their jobs. I stepped out of the room and quietly padded down the hall to the elevators. They dinged and clanged noisily but no one paid it any attention as I slipped inside and went down to the first floor.

It was a little confusing as to which way to go as I looked left and right on the first floor. I took the left and soon found myself in an empty lobby. I ran past the gift shop and to the door and started the long walk home in the cold, glad that it was dark and hoping that I didn't see any police. As I walked down College avenue I saw that all of the stores and shops were all closed up and dark, I knew it had to be after midnight as nothing in a small town like this stay open later than midnight, which meant little traffic and few people and I had been asleep for at least a day.

I headed along the street, crossing the four lane road to get to the other side so I could head up into the various quiet neighborhoods. I found mine, one where the houses were cheaper, smaller, older, more broken down, and dogs barked viciously from the ends of their chains. I found my small house and headed inside to find that Bill, my mother's ex-boyfriend, was passed out on the couch, several empty beer cans on the floor before him.

I quietly tip-toed past him and into the kitchen where I opened the door and took out a soda and grabbed some fixings for a sandwich. I took all this stuff into my tiny room. It was dark and cold in there. A small twin bed with an old beaten up mattress rested against the far wall and by the door was a small chest of drawers where I kept underwear, shorts and sock. I took all my sandwich crap and threw them onto my bed. I took off the hospital gown and put on some boxers before moving to the mirror on the inside of my closet door and looked at myself.

I had several bandages, especially around my rib cage, which I knew meant that I had broken ribs, but that was already obvious as I was having a really hard time breathing from the pain. I had bruises all over my stomach but there weren't any stitches there which meant that I hadn't been cut open so no internal bleeding. My eye was swollen with a black eye and I had a large bruise covering my cheek and even more bruises trailed down my body. I was a mess and I worried that I wouldn't be able to make any more money. A whore didn't necessarily have to be attractive, but it certainly helped. Damn.

I sighed though, there wasn't much I could do as I moved to my bed, made myself a sandwich and once my stomach was full and my thirst was quenched, I laid out on my bed and went to sleep. Shit even that hurt.