The fancy truck turns slowly round the corner. Dean catches sight of it immediately, and realises disappointed, that it isn't HIM.

Since he had that fail date with the man called Castiel, he waited every day, that somehow the man would show up, and they can finish what they started. He never wished it though before with any of his client, there was something in that man he couldn't get rid of. He was thinking about what could have been… all the time.

He can't get out of his head the man's black hair, bright blue eyes, his silky skin, and his soft, long fingers. Every day on the street, he catches himself longing for a new car to show up, and he's disappointed all the time, when realises that it isn't him. Dean's thoughts always wanders elsewhere, and in this business you always have to look for new clients. He misses a lot so far, just like now. Almost. You have to catch the rich ones, and this car looks bloody rich. Telling the truth, richmen usually have strange wishes, but nothing like that that Dean can't comply. There are men, who jerk off while Dean is fucking their wifes. There are ones who want to be bottom – but these are very rare cases in his career – and there are a few who just likes to watch as Dean jerkes off himself. These aren't really pervert things, but payed very well. Extra money always come handy because it means he has to spend less time on the street.

As a matter of fact he doesn't know why he's doing this. He doesn't like it so much. Sam – who is the reason he has started the whole thing – is a prosperous lawyer, and he wanted to offer him a job a few times. Dean didn't accept it. Maybe he doesn't want to depend on anybody, maybe he can hide the fact easier, that he prefers men. It's an unaffected thing that a male hooker satisfies both male and female clients, it doesn't mean they're gay. Well, Dean is gay, altough he denies this fact, sometimes even for himself. He has female patrons, once in a blue moon, and he doesn't enjoy them more than the elderly buisnessmen, who fuck him on the backseat of the family's Volvo.

But somehow he knows he likes men. They aren't putting on a show. They don't want Dean to lie to them how irresistible or how special they are. They just want Dean to give them a blow job, or stay still while they're fucking him. Here's your money, get out! That's all, and Dean doesn't need more. Honestly, he hasn't even enjoyed sex truly in his life. During the few blow jobs he has been given, well, it wasn't all bad, but not the real thing.

The truck stops, the windows of the backseat slowly slides down, and the man, sitting in there points straight at Dean. He is used to this. He is loved. When he started all this he didn't have a rival, he was the first choice every single time. His girlish, nice features became manlike since then, but he didn't lose anything from his charm. That's why he is spotted by his own aged men, not the elder ones. Like this one. He is maybe ten years older than Dean, lean and tall, properly nothing extra, but when he talks, Dean has goosebumps on his nape:

- I want some extra, Are you in? – his voice is so cold as ice. Cruel and objective.

- It depends on what you mean on extra.

- Rough sex. Maybe rougher. I'll pay a lot.

- How much?

- 500 $. But I want your mouth, too.

Dean's eyes goes wide. 500 $. He can leave the street for at least a week from this money. How much can a sex be rough? He doesn't really care. He can be gangbanged for that much. He already had a share in hard, emotionless fuck, he was just pushed to the wall, pinned down, and done. At least it was fast.

- Ok, we can go – he opens the door and gets in.

The truck starts, and Dean doesn't notice the black haired man in a trenchcoat who follows the car with his bright blue eyes, while it goes round the corner of the street.

XXX

The car starts immediately as Dean gets in. The separator window is dark and opaque, which means in Dean's mind that this car has seen a few things before. He sits on the seat a little embarrassed because of the sudden silent, the man doesn't say a word just gazes Dean with a pervert smile on his lips. Then he reaches out with his hands, grabs the back of Dean's neck and starts massaging it.

- You're gorgeous, you know that? - he asks, but he doesn't really expect an answer. However Dean still has goosebumbs from his voice. There is something threatening in it, something that make Dean feellike his has to get out of this car right the fuck now.

- Dean – he says, he doesn't even know though why he's telling his real name to this scary dude. He never does this. – Are we gonna do it here, or…

- No, no, there's not enough space for it in here – responds the men immediatley – and we're not alone. Alastair, by the way.

- Nice to meet you. Can I get my money?

- Of course. After we're done.

- Look, Mr. I usually get my money before.

- And I usually pay after I got what I wanted. But I can't resist to your preatty face, and I don't wanna risk that you get out of my car, so I give you the half of it now.

- Deal.

Alastair takes his wallet and Dean can't take off his eyes from it. He's never seen such an amount of money in his life before. The man takes 250 $ from it giving it to Dean , and after he puts back the wallet into his pocket he starts stroking Dean's thigh. Dean stuffs the money into his backpocket, and forces a faint smile on his face. Generally he doesn't feel embarrassed from these kind of actions, but this men bothers him. He kind of scares the shit out of Dean. He stares out of the window, lets his thoughts take him away, and he was there again a few weeks ago in that crappy car, with that awkward little man, who was completely floored from the fact that a hooker sat in his car.

Dean barely notices that the car stops. He looks up, sees a tower block full of luxury flats. Well, the back of the tower, to be exact, because they stand in an alley behind the building. He isn't surprised, of course, that's obvious they don't go in full frontal. None of them say a word while they're heading up to the top of the building. The silent in the elevator starts to annoy Dean. Not as he usually makes deep and 'full of theme' conversations with the clients, but he doesn't spend this much time with them either. He enters the flat behind Alastair and he is amazed. It's a Penthouse! He's never been at such a place like this before, but why would he? He moves in a different social circle. 'All right, let's get work for our money' he thinks, and says:

-Well, how do we start? – he turns around, and he expects everything but what he gets. A hard fist in his face. He feels his mouth cracks, and feels the taste of blood. A second hit follows right after the first, and Dean falls to the ground. For a fleeting moment he doesn't even know what hit him. He glances up and sees the man cresting above him, fists clenched, vicious look in his eyes. Dean looks at him suprised, but already knows that he made a huge mistake. He already knows that rougher sex doesn't mean a little rougher. He has heard about these kind of things, but he always thought that he's smarter than just to run into some shit like this. Well, he isn't.

Alastair leans down and grabs Dean by the collar of his t-shirt. Dean tries to escape, but knows that there's nowhere to run. He tries to get free, hit the man, but Alastair easily shirks and smashes into Dean's face once more. It's too much for him. He goes limp and lets Alastair drag him to the wall, and push him to the thousand dollar wallpaper.

-Work for your money! – he hisses and grab Dean's hair. He tugs up his head to see Dean's face and to Dean sees his. Dean knows what the man wants and that he has to give it to him. He nods surrenderly.

- Good boy! Take off your shirt! – Dean obeys without a word but his whole body is shaking. Alastair admires his naked bust with eager eyes while gripping his shoulder and digging his fingernails into his skin. -Your body is beautiful. You know what comes next, right?

Dean nods again and undoes Alastair's zipper with shaking hands. As he looses the man's already half hard member, he grabs Dean's both wrists and pins them to the wall above his head. He pushes his dick into Dean's mouth without any hesitation. Dean closes his eyes and lets Alastair fuck his mouth. Alastair moves slowly and rhytmically while he moans loudly in his strange nasal twang. Dean is choking, sometimes retching as the tip of Alastair's shaft is being pushed down on his throat. His wrists hurt, they are pushed to the wall with so much force that Dean almost feels as his bones are cracking. He groans with bated breath, he can barely breathe and his head starts to feel dizzy. But Alastair doesn't stop. He can last long. After a several minutes, what feel like hours, Dean tries to free himself from the mans grasp, though he knows that his „employer" won't like it. It's against the rules. But Dean can't take it any longer, this penis in his mouth. He tries to move his wrist but no purpose. Alastair pined them to the wall with iron grip, and as he feels Dean's effort to escape he pushes them down with even more pleasure.

And just when he feels like giving up and passing out, Alastair pulls out his dick from his mouth and looses the grip on his wrists. He reaches down, grabs Dean's chin and lifts his head. The trails of the slaps are already visible on Dean's face. His mouth is cracked, still bleeding, obviously the action of the last half hour didn't do anymore good for his sour lips. His cheek is puffed-up under his eyes, and the whole right side of his face is dull red. And his gaze…well it shows nothing but pain and despair. And that's exactly what Alastair wants to see.

That's what he uses his money for, to be able to do this. He spends a remarkable amount of his wealth to satisfy this aberration of his, to torture, break and rape handsome, young men. But torture and rape isn't allowed by the laws of the United States, not even for millionaires, so that's the point where the fabulous wealth and male hookers come to sight. Dean isn't the first one who receives the honour that Alastair wants him for himself, but definitely has the best mouth of all. Alastair has already made the decision that he will keep Dean, whatever it takes. But first things first. He's gonna enjoy this round. There is no time-limit in the 500$, and he can last long. Very long.

Dean sees the lust in his tormentor's eyes, caused by his look, racked with pain, and this fact doesn't calm him. Panic slowly overwhelms him as Alastair says:

- Get up! – he speaks in a low town, but his voice doesn't let any defiance. Despite of this, Dean doesn't move. He wants to but he can't He doesn't want anymore punch to the face, because it hurts like hell, and after all, he lives from his features. – I said get up! – Alastair starts to lost his patience and leans over Dean menacingly.

- Okay, okay! Calm down, I'm standing. – Dean stands up, his numb limbs hurt, but he bolts up in front of Alastair nonetheless. He is tall, taller than Dean, but leaner, altough there's something threatening in him, what makes Dean feel he rather does everything for him just to not to make him angry. He is afraid of him.

- Pants off! – Dean hasitates for a second, earning a backhanded slap across his face. It hit him right in the same spot like the last one, and it already throbs from the pain. Dean groans loudly and starts to undo his pants immediately. Takes off his shoes, socks, and kicks off his denim. He stands there stark naked in front of the man who almost salivates from the sight. Dean isn't used to this either. Usually the whole transaction doesn't last this long, including the solicitation and payment. He never bothers with taking off his clothes, only pushes down the jeans to his knees, and that's all. Clients don't want to indulge in Kama Sutra with him.

Alastair's gaze stops on Dean's chest, on the old pentagram tattoo. He smirks mockingly, and grabs Dean by his shoulder, swings him around and then shoves him against the wall. Dean startles as all the air escapes from his lungs. Alastair grips his wrists again, and pins Dean's arms and whole body with the weight of his own down. Dean feels the man's stone-hard dick somewhere in the middle of his ass as Alastair leans closer, hissing into his ear:

- You're gonna enjoy it!