PEG BOY (23 page)

“Give me a
moment to find the key. Walk around the block and see if you are being
followed. If you see no one, come back.”

Santiago did
what he was told and saw no evidence of being followed. Once inside, Wexler sat
him down after he covered the windows with burlap and put kindling on the
coals.

“Have you been
thrown out? I thought you were at McIntyre’s place?”

“I am.
Something has happened and I did not get a chance to eat. To tell you the
truth, McIntyre is trying to have me do something I do not want to do. I think
he has told the other boys to have nothing to do with me.”

Wexler said
nothing of what he knew.

“How does a
chorizo omelet sound?”

“Wonderful!”

“And pan-fried
potatoes?”

“Yes,
please..., I would be happy to have it.”

“And a slice
of apple pie? Wexler’s apple pie is known all over San Francisco”

Santiago’s
mouth watered. He heard the sausage sizzling in the pan and smelled its spicy
aroma. Along with the sausage Wexler fried slices of boiled potatoes and then
poured an egg mixture all over it to produce the thick, juicy omelet that he
topped off with melted cheese. Wexler drank coffee as he sat near Santiago to
watch him devour the food. The last morsels of egg and sausage and juices were
wiped up with a chunk of sourdough bread.

“You
were
hungry! Santiago, I don’t expect for you to go to bed with me just because I
fed you. You owe me nothing!”

Wexler noticed
Santiago’s glazed eyes and the dark circles under them, and he could see that
he had been taking drugs and had not been resting properly, evidence of McIntyre
sinking in his hooks.

“But I do owe
you something! Please, I
want
to stay with you tonight.”

“Are you
frightened..., are you afraid to return to the rooming-house?”

“I want to be
with somebody who has not bought me!”

The boy had
such a sadness in his voice that Wexler wanted to hold him in his arms and
comfort him. He restrained his impulse.

“You roomed
with Vincent.”

“Yes. I have
not heard from him since he left McIntyre. I miss him.”

“Were the two
of you very friendly?”

Santiago knew
what Wexler was asking.

“We were not
lovers, but we did make love. I liked him and he liked me. I can love someone
in bed and have no feelings. Sometimes it is necessary to make love with
someone for whom you feel nothing.”

“And with me
tonight, will there be any feeling?”

Wexler
surprised Santiago with his straightforward question

 “Señor
Wexler, Vincent said you were a kind man. I have found that he was correct. You
helped me when it would have been bad for me without help. You like me..., I
mean..., you would like to make love with me. I would like to make you happy.
It will make me happy to do so.”

“That sounds
like a lawyer’s answer, my boy. Very diplomatic indeed and well said! I’ll not
push my luck but take your answer to mean that you are doing it freely. Thank
you for not saying anything to anyone about the last time. I’ll ask that you do
the same about tonight. McIntyre could make it bad for me if he finds me
helping you.”

Santiago found
Wexler to be a gentle man of deep sensitivity who spent much time touching and
stroking him as he kissed him all over. He woke three times during the night to
find Wexler’s arms wrapped tightly around him, almost as though he were afraid
Santiago would slip away. The contact was what Santiago had craved for and
being held allowed him to quickly go back to sleep.

The morning
broke in a drizzling rain. Santiago heard it long before he opened his eyes as
he listened to the comforting sound made on the tin roof and did not hear the
sounds coming from the kitchen. Wexler was always up by five o’clock to prepare
the food of the day and to begin baking bread and biscuits for breakfast. At
seven o’clock he thought the boy had slept long enough as he wanted him fed and
out before the morning traffic of patrons became heavy. He could not afford to
be found having harbored the boy all night! Wexler tugged at Santiago’s toes
and tickled the soles of his feet until the boy sat. Seeing Wexler, Santiago
smiled.

“Buenos dias.
You are already up and already working. Can I help you?”

“You can be of
help by getting your pretty ass out of bed and being on your way. There will be
customers soon. Get yourself dressed and I will bring you breakfast.”

In ten minutes
Wexler returned with coffee and a plate of hot biscuits smothered in gravy with
sausages.

“When you
finish, leave everything here and leave by the back door. Don’t be seen!”

Santiago could
not leave without asking for a favor that he had been thinking about since his
arrival.

“Do you have
opium, or something else I can smoke?”

 Wexler had
expected the request having recognized drug withdrawal. With a different boy he
could have exploited the situation by trading drugs for sex, but there was something
different about Santiago who was not yet hardened by his newly adopted
lifestyle. The previous night had proven that. Where other boys would have
given a perfunctory performance, Santiago had given Wexler time and attention.
But Wexler took no drugs. Although he sometimes kept opium on hand for boys he
would bring home, he had nothing at present.

“I’m sorry,
Santiago. I have nothing to give you. I wish I could help with your
discomfort!”

“Do you want
me to come back?”

“My boy, you
can come knocking at my window pane any time. But remember that you must not be
seen. I will do for you whatever I can.”

Santiago came
to Wexler and put his arms around the man’s waist. Wexler stood two heads
taller than the boy as he looked down onto his head.

“....So
young...!” he thought.

“Santiago I am
serious when I tell you to please take care of yourself. I like you and I would
like to see you again and would not like to hear that something had happened to
you. The man you work for is not one to cross. He is ruthless. Remember that!”

Wexler watched
as Santiago walked down the alley, cautiously looking not to be seen. As the
boy disappeared from sight the room was suddenly filled with emptiness.

It was early.
The corridors were deserted. From one of the rooms Santiago heard a voice
begging, urgent, in the final throes of sexual frenzy. It was the only sound to
break the silence. He reached his room and stood at the door, looking at the
stairs that led to the upper floor. Since the twins had arrived, no one had
been allowed up there. Santiago was curious about what he would find and the
relative safety of the time of day made him bold. He cautiously climbed the
stairs, looking for one of McIntyre’s men somewhere in the corridor but found
no one. The corridor was lit by the weak light from a small window at the other
end. Each room he tried was unlocked and empty, save for odds and ends of
furniture. He made his way cautiously down one side and up the other until he
came to a locked door. He jiggled the knob and heard the voice of a young boy.

“Lose your
key, you bastard?”

The boy had
been standing right on the other side of the door because Santiago could hear
him breathing. He said nothing and stood silently, listening, knowing the boy
was doing the same.

“Who is it,”
the boy asked. “Is that you, Preston?”

Santiago heard
another voice, one subdued and in the distance asking what was wrong.

“Somebody’s
out there” Santiago heard the boy answering back to his brother. “I don’t think
it’s Preston. Don’t worry Kim..., the door is locked..., don’t worry!”

There was fear
and worry in both their voices. Santiago knew they were scared.

“I am one of
the boys from below,” he whispered. “No one else is out here. I know about you.
Why do they keep the door locked?’

The boy behind
the door became excited.

“You say
there’s no one standing nearby?”

“No.”

“Please, will
you help us?”

Santiago
listened for anyone’s approach. The building was silent.

“What is wrong?”

The boy behind
the door tried the knob in attempt to jar the door open.

“Do you have
any opium,” he asked.

“I was going
to ask you the same question,” Santiago whispered. “Why are you locked in?”

“Because we
would run away, you fool! Please look around and see if you can find a key.
They leave one somewhere nearby. Can you look?’

Santiago ran
his fingers along the door sills and looked behind several old pictures hanging
askew. He got down on his hands and knees and inspected the worn carpet.

“I see nothing.”

“Then can you
find something to pry open the door. Please, you must try to let us out. My
brother is very sick. He needs a fix and McIntyre hasn’t given us anything in
three days.”

“Why is he
doing this to you?”

“My brother
refuses to let himself be pegged. He keeps pulling them out. Please..., who are
you..., what is your name..., will you help us?”

Santiago was
resistant to tell the boy his name, yet he did not want to ignore the brothers
who seemed so desperate, fully understanding the horror of being at the mercy
of tormentors.

“I will tell
you, but you must promise not to tell anyone I was here. Otherwise I will not
be able to return to help you. Promise me!”

“We
promise..., yes my brother and I promise.”

This time the
voice was not that of the boy who had first been at the door, but of the other
one.

“Can you find
something that will make me feel better...., please...., get chandoo..., I must
have some!”

Santiago was
puzzled. “Even if I could find some, would you have the means by which to prepare
it?”

“We have what
we need. Can you get some?”

Santiago heard
footsteps on the stairs.

“Someone is
coming. I must go. I will try.”

“Wait,” the
boy sounded as though about to cry.

“Please help
us!!”

“I will try!”

Santiago saw
that his only escape was the stairs, where he surely would get caught. The room
he chose to hide in was the first one by the stairs. Perhaps once they had
passed, he could slip away undetected. He left the door open just enough to be
able to spy up and down the hall. His end of the corridor was in near-darkness.
The footsteps reached the top of the landing and as they passed he saw two men.
One of the men was McIntyre.  When they entered the twins’ room and closed the
door Santiago descended slowly as he heard the sounds of someone being slapped
repeatedly. One of the boys was screaming profanities as the other wailed in
pain. In the noise and commotion of the moment Santiago saw his opportunity to
descend the creaky stairs.

W
ithin
the homosexual community the news of McIntyre’s new venture traveled quickly but
discretely. There were those who felt strongly against the exploitation of
children, but they held their tongues for fear of retribution. In actuality the
numbers who were aware of the Peghouses were few in comparison to the city’s
population. This sort of venture had always been given the highest
confidentiality. Even Belle, who dealt more in the business of
young men
rather than children made sure her services were made available to
only
those who came recommended by existing customers. McIntyre used the same
criteria to sell his boys.

The renovated
warehouse chosen for the new venture had been divided into
living quarters
for the boys; a series of small rooms all quite elaborately decorated. A spacious
parlor would be used for socialization where customers could drink or purchase
an opium pipe (the opium being free for the price of two boys). McIntyre had a
small kitchen installed that was to be open all night. The boys needed to be
fed and the customers often got hungry between boys!

Several days
had passed since Santiago’s encounter with the twins on the third floor.
Although he had been unable to locate the drugs he and they so badly needed, he
had tried to get back to them but had found the hallway guarded each time. The
move to the new location had taken place, followed by all manner of disruption.

Santiago
reluctantly agreed to service in the peghouse in order to obtain the drugs McIntyre
promised him. His body ached and there was little else to do. The room he was
given was small but more luxurious than the one he had occupied at the
boardinghouse. But unlike the previous room, this one had no windows. The
absence of daylight made it difficult to judge the passing of time and each day
became indistinguishable from the next. The boys ate when they needed, slept
when they could; often roused from sleep to be displayed to customers.
Everything was structured and scheduled around the service and pleasure of McIntyre’s
patrons. The Peghouse was at its busiest in the evening, making it possible to
gain a sense of time.

The first two
days after the move were spent in organizing and arranging furniture and
applying the final coats of paint. McIntyre gathered all nine boys into the
parlor in late afternoon of the second day. Sumptuous divans and elegant
pillows scattered about the room showed that it would be the focal point of
operations. To one side was a bar that ran half its length, followed by a
raised stage. There the boys would sit on pegged stools with the pegs
protruding from the stools’ bottoms to show its diameter and length, thereby
demonstrating each boy’s anal capacity.

McIntyre
surveyed his stable as they filed into the parlor and smiled at his
accomplishment. The first to enter were the Australian twins, Kim and Michael.
One was peaceful and subdued and the other, cantankerous and volatile. After
the twins came a boy McIntyre had recently purchased from a ship’s captain. The
price of the boy had been one week’s free use of the peghouse for the captain.
The lad had been a cabin-boy in the habit of jumping ship each time it made
port. Weary of the search each time and weary of the boy’s ass as well, the
captain had decided to cash in his investment. The boy was addicted to the coca
leaf and exhibited wild and sometimes dangerous sexual practices in order to
obtain it. McIntyre thought this a great asset as long as the boy could be
controlled and he had no doubt that his men could enforce his will. This new
boy would require additional training on the peg-plug but given the boy’s
reputation, McIntyre was convinced he would adapt to the insertions with ease.
Then followed Santiago, a most uncommon boy who loved and hated what he did. Of
all the boys who were there, he seemed the most promising. It was for this
reason that McIntyre was so intent in having Santiago develop drug dependency.
Without forceful means, McIntyre would have lost him. He saw now that Santiago
would become all he had hoped.

Sitting at
Santiago’s feet was the strange little fellow McIntyre had bought in Mexico
from a woman who claimed to be the child’s mother. The child’s beauty would
bring in many customers throughout its childhood and adolescence; a special
attraction that pleased a certain kind of man. It was his very strangeness that
made him so sensual, for the child was both male and female. Of all the
children McIntyre had known, this was the one who most fascinated him.
Mariposa
,
a Spanish word for butterfly, until last week had been cared for by an elderly
woman paid by McIntyre to protect his investment. Time had come for the
butterfly to begin his work, as he had already been introduced to the
peg-sizing and had grown into accepting a size much larger than McIntyre had
hoped for, taking a two inch dowel without complaint.

Mariposa said
no words and therefore told no tales. He was mute. The remaining boys were from
McIntyre’s regular stable and had been brought to the peghouse only until other
boys, younger and prettier, could be found. All were kept drugged and with the
sluggishness that resulted, little thought was given to escapes because pain.
Each sexual encounter required continued use of drugs to deaden the senses.

Santiago had
been fit with his device; a leather harness worn like a loincloth whose purpose
was to hold in place a smooth wooden peg, greased and inserted into the anus.
The peg could be left inserted at all times except for evacuation and in the
act of sex. A new peg of a larger size could be introduced when it was judged
that the boy was ready. Its construction was such that the end of the shaft
inserted into the anus was flanged to prevent it being lost within. A boy could
sit or walk and the peg would remain in place. It was an uncomfortable feeling
for the first few days after which time, some of the boys found the sensations
to be erotic. Eventually the anal passage accustomed itself to the foreign
object without the interior muscles continuously trying to eliminate it.

Like all
other boys, Santiago’s discomfort was lessened with opium, McIntyre’s undisputed
hold that dictated what and how they would do his bidding. And it was this
control that he was now addressing, clearly defining his expectations and the
parameters around which they could feel themselves free. While McIntyre spoke,
Santiago’s attention drifted to the two brothers with whom he had spoken. Even
when all the others had helped in the moving, these two had been kept separate,
seeing them for the first time. The smaller of the two clung to his brother and
Santiago was struck at the dependence both seemed to have for each other. They
were slight of build, but one was smaller was more delicate. His frail face was
drawn and pained, the eyes sunken in their sockets and the mouth pulled down
with sadness. The older boy sat with arms folded and an expression of defiance
on his face. The mood about him was one that portended trouble.

Their eyes met
and Santiago nodded at the look of recognition, after the boy had scanned the
room to put a face to the voice he had come to know. Santiago smiled, trying to
express communality but all he received was a scowl. He heard his name called
and realized that McIntyre had noticed his inattention and preoccupation with
the boys.

“Well, we seem
to have someone who is more interested in flirting than in what I have to say.
Tell me boy, what do you think will happen when we open our doors and you still
do not know how we intend to operate? Santiago..., what do you see so exciting
that you can’t take your eyes from it? Do you want that boy?”

Santiago was
feeling so under the weather that he could not think of an immediate answer and
only shrugged. The bigger of the two brothers sniggered at his response.
Santiago tried to attend to McIntyre but his drugged state was making it
difficult.

“This brings
up another point...” McIntyre continued as he took deep puffs from a
water-bottle at his feet, handing the stem to the mute hermaphrodite who sat
beside him, his head leaning against one of McIntyre’s legs.

“I don’t want
to hear of any of you fucking each other! You will get all the fucking you can
handle from the customers. You are to remain in your rooms unless otherwise
called.”

McIntyre saw
the bigger of the twins raise his hand.

“You have
something to say?

“Yeah..., are
you going to keep us locked up in this dump all day without letting us go
outside?”

It had been
the kind of response McIntyre had expected from the boy. He knew he would be
troublesome. It was the kind of attitude that could incite discontent and
discord. But he knew also that to eliminate the boy would render the other
brother useless. And the slighter of the two was the one McIntyre thought most
promising for his build and nature; the one who would attract the kind of man McIntyre
had in mind. Although disruptive and each a problem in their own way, the boys
had come highly recommended as being extremely versatile and aggressive in bed.
McIntyre had tried to defuse their general non compliance with his usual remedy
but only Kim, the more passive of the two had become addicted to the degree
that usually insured cooperation. Michael, the more aggressive, would need to
be taught a lesson.

“All of you
will get time to spend outdoors. We will provide opportunities for you to get
out when all of us go for holidays from time to time. Now, any more questions?”

McIntyre’s
tone implied that there should be none.

“Some of you
know what to expect. I do not want to hear complaining. You have your own rooms
and food whenever you want it. You will have all the opium you need and be
provided with expensive clothes to make you look desirable. You are given a
roof over your heads with nothing to worry about except keeping our customers
happy and satisfied. And that is exactly what I expect from you!”

McIntyre
leaned forward, letting his hand slide down Mariposa’s thigh.

“We have among
you a good selection to fill the needs and desires of our clients. That is our
purpose! Anyone who becomes unable to meet that requirement will have no place
here. That means no place elsewhere! Some of you have come from houses that
were hell-holes. Some of you may go back. I will keep no one who does not carry
his weight. There are many ships looking for boys that can meet the sexual
appetites of sailors long at sea. I could get a good price for any of you! Do
you understand?

One by one
they nodded as McIntyre looked at each in turn, all except the twin, Michael,
who had stood forward waiting to be noticed.

“No, I don’t
understand! How long do I have to keep this fucking thing up my ass? You should
try sticking one of these up your own ass, McIntyre instead of having your head
up there. Then you’d see how it feels!”

Several of the
boys laughed, although trying to stifle their appreciation for Michael’s
outrageous behavior. McIntyre looked around angrily. He stood and walked to the
boy and gave him a resounding slap in the face that sent the boy to the floor.
Kim shied away, raising an arm to protect his face as he ran to his brother. McIntyre
did not interfere.

“I don’t know
what you’re complaining about,” he said as he sat back down and took the pipe
Mariposa had offered him. “From what I was told by the man who sold you, you
were never without
something
up your ass including your brother’s cock.
And as for that plug, that stays until your asshole is big enough and big
enough is what I decide. And if I decide that it’s going to be as big as your
mouth well then you don’t have long to wait. You, dear child, will have the
honors of accepting our better endowed customers. I’m curious to see just how
wide we can open the other hole you talk from!”

This time the
room was in silence save for Richard, who bellowed and slapped his thighs. But
it was an artificial laugh slurred by cheap scotch and it had been meant to
placate McIntyre.

“Shut up!”
then man yelled. He felt the meeting getting out of hand.

“All of
you...., you’re to keep those plugs in at all times except for when you service
a customer. Dr. Carlson will be watching each of you so that nothing happens to
you. He’ll decide when they can be taken out and when they are to be enlarged.
One more thing while we’re talking about Dr. Carlson. As some of you know we
sometimes have customers who come to us with diseases and so, occasionally, you
may catch the clap or something like that. Be sure to report any illness as
soon as possible to the Doctor. We don’t want to be passing anything on to out
clientele…, of course it depends what part of you is affected. If your cock has
the drips but your asshole is clean, then you could still earn money by getting
fucked. By the same token, your ass could be put on vacation until it’s better
but you could still suck or do the fucking. So with a little cooperation and
some care we can carry on a very nice business here…, so don’t hide anything
that you think might be illness. That’s all I have to say. I want to see Santiago
and The Twins. The rest of you can go”

When they were
left alone, McIntyre motioned for all the boys to come closer. He lit another
bowl of opium and passed the pipe-stem around. While the boys inhaled, McIntyre
observed them closely.

“You...,” he
said, pointing to Michael. I’m going to tell you something now and it will be
the last time I will say it. The next time it becomes necessary for me to talk
to you about your antagonism, I will have you removed and be done with you.
You’ll never see your brother again. Do you understand?”

McIntyre had
delivered the ultimatum with such force and vehemence that it scared Michael.
It also scared Kim to the point that he began to cry and once again, he clung
to his brother. McIntyre noticed the reaction with satisfaction.