Season 2, Episode 9: A Night in Spanish Harlem
Synopsis: Trigger is a young Hispanic teen
that's lived on the streets of New York since getting put out of his parents home when he came out. He
quickly learned of a seemingly uncomplicated way to provide for himself that
soon becomes threatened by an undercover sting operation. That is until the
undercover detective decides to go rogue...
This story is a copyright by Mr. Maleficent of the Maleficent Journal and an act of
complete fiction. Please always remember to wrap it up.
For money, I
turned to one of the oldest professions. And since I was a shorty back then,
the fact that it was forbidden enticed most of my customers. So many of the
guys I met with were seeking females, but were easily
persuaded by a young Puerto Rican boy who could keep a secret. Now, that I was older, and had more experience I could take
advantage of the situation a little better. For 2 years I jumped in and out of
cars, doing sexual favors for money, and rarely getting caught. There were
times, but it didn't happen often. The cops always swarmed the streets of
Spanish Harlem looking for prostitutes. They'd bypass me because I wasn't a
female. The few times that I caught the police's attention, they assumed I was
a teen drug dealer. Imagine their surprise when I wasn't carrying.
Most guys I got
were older white guys that made the trip to see one of the ladies on the
street. Whenever one of them got busted by an officer earlier in the night, I'd
swoop in and replace her. Many times I get refused,
but quite often, I get taken up on the offer.
My friend, Maxine got picked up by the cops. She came onto an
undercover detective and got hauled in. When her 2:30am came by, a white guy
that looked like a crazed sex offender equipped with the stringy hair and
pedophile glasses, I tried to take him. I walked over to his white SUV. I
knocked on his passenger window. He rolled it down.
"Who are
you?" he asked.
"A friend of
Maxine's," I said.
"You're a
cop."
"No."
"You're a
little young to be a pimp," he said.
"I'm not that
either. I'm just a friend."
He looked around
his car. "Where is Maxine?"
"Cops busted
her earlier today. I've seen you around here looking for her before."
"Yeah...
and?"
"Whatever you
think she can do for you, I can do a hundred times better."
He turned his nose
up at me. "You're a cop," he said again, this time seeming certain of
the accusation.
"No, I'm not.
Just unlock your door and I'll prove it to you."
He stared,
questioning. He was still pretty sure that I had something to do with law
enforcement and that this was a set-up. He needed a little more reassurance.
"Look, even
if I was a cop, this would be entrapment. It wouldn't be enough to arrest
you," I explained.
The guy thought it
back over again, and then he unlocked the door. I opened it and was about to
hop in before he stopped me.
"You're
supposed to prove you're not a cop," he said, putting his hand up to keep
me from stepping into the truck.
I looked around to
make sure that no one could see. The open door served as a privacy wall to the
north side of the street. There was no one behind me or to the south. I made my
move, reaching into my pants and pulling my dick out. It was flaccid and dangled
about 6 inches between my legs.
"A cop
wouldn't expose themselves like this."
There was no
denying that. A police officer has limits to where they can go on an prostitution sting. So far, I'd broken two of them. I put
my dick back into my jeans, and he kept himself guarded.
"So... Max
isn't here. How about you let me suck you off?"
"I don't like
men."
"You haven't
heard the old saying, 'A mouth is a mouth.'?" I asked.
"I've heard
it; doesn't mean that I believe it."
"It's a shame
that you coming down here is all for nothing just
because Max isn't here. I promise, I'm better than she is. I have techniques
that'll make you forget all about the dick between my legs. How much money did
you bring?"
He was mum....He didn't want to reveal that to me. By now, he'd
surpassed the whole me-being-a-cop idea. Now, he knew that I was trying to
score him.
"I'll do it
for half of what Max charges."
"$10?"
he asked.
"Nice try. I
know Max doesn't take anything less than a 50."
"$15 is the
highest I'm willing to go. I'm not exactly dying to put my dick in your spic
mouth."
"$15.50- so I
after I finish, I can walk to the corner store to get a soda to wash the taste
of Nazi out of my mouth," I negotiated."
He smiled.
"Get in and hurry up."
I jumped into the
man's SUV and closed the passenger door behind me.
"Pull around
the corner," I said.
The guy started
his car, he checked his rearview mirror before pulling out into the street and
turning on the next street, pulling into the darkness- in the middle of 2
streetlights that were about a couple of meters apart. The guy had an
unpleasant smell attached to him; a smell that got even worse as he undressed.
He smelled like a construction worker that hadn't bathed in a couple of days.
$15 didn't seem worth this.
The guy's dick
might've been 7 inches and cut with a thick white mushroom tip.
"Show me what
you can do," he said.
I said a quick
prayer under my breath, a habit I learned from another hooker (she said she
blesses the dick first, it cuts down on the chances that something bad will
happen as a result- sort of like blessing your plate before you eat). My prayer
was answered before I even finished it.
There was a knock
on the driver's window. Both of us looked toward it. We could only see a dark
shadow standing there. I was scared. I didn't have a "pimp" but I knew that Maxine's pimp didn't like anybody
getting serviced around his block. Once he found out about me, he told me that
I can't blow any guys in his district (basically anywhere in a 2 mile radius). He never threatened to kill me, but I
wouldn't pull it past him if I'd ever gotten caught. Before I could get too panicked about that thought, a flashlight was
shone into the window...Cops.
"Shit,"
I said."
"I knew it! I
knew you were a cop!" the guy said.
"I'm not. He
must've been watching you. You took too long."
"Open
up!" said a voice, heavy with a New York Puerto Rican accent.
The guy rolled
down his window. "Is there a problem officer?"
"That's
detective to you. Show me some ID," the detective said.
"Listen,
I-I-I have a family. I'm not even- he's a guy. I don't even-"
"But you had
your pants down."
"I wasn't
going to-" The guy handed his wallet to the detective to go through.
After another
couple of seconds the detective spoke again. "You
hit an ATM before coming out here. You must have $300 in here. An awful lot of
money for someone who wasn't doing anything."
The guy just
sighed, knowing that things looked bad and anything he said would only make
things look worse.
"And what
about you over there?" the detective said, flashing the light into my
eyes.
"What about
me?"
"You have a
little attitude, papi. You might wanna
cool it," he said, warning me. "Both of you, out of the truck, hands
on the SUV."
"Fuck-fuck-fuck,"
the white guy exclaimed. He got out of the truck first, and
shut his door. He put his hands on the truck and spread his legs apart so he
could be frisked, while the detective began reading the
Miranda rights.
"You have the
right to remain silent, Anything you say or do can and
will be used against you," The detective continued.
I got out of the
SUV and made it around to the side of the truck where the detective and driver
were. I could see the detective's face. He had a sexy vibe about him. It was
obvious that he was Puerto Rican too, but his features were far different from
mine. His skin-tone was paler than mine. He stood about 6'1 or 6'2, near 200 lbs if he wasn't already. Though the jacket he wore was
kind of bulky, I could tell his build was somewhere between thick and muscular.
His goatee was heavy with dark hair and the rest of his face had light trails
as a courtesy of his 5 o'clock shadow, and the hair on his head combed back and
gelled. His eyebrows were just as thick as his beard.
"...do you
understand these rights as I have read them off to you?" The detective asked, as he tightened the handcuffs.
The guy sighed.
"Yes."
The detective
turned his attention to me. "And you've probably been arrested enough
times to recite the Miranda rights to yourself, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I can
even do it in Spanish."
"Do it."
"Tengo el derecho de permanecer en silencio. Cualquier
cosa que diga puede y sera usado en mi contra en la corte..."
I kept reading myself the Miranda rights while looking into the detectives face. He had these big soft pink lips. He seemed
impressed by my memory, even though he was probably more astonished at the fact
that I'd been read the rights enough times to recite them in both languages.
"How old are
you?"
"17."
"You can't
be. I've seen you on the streets for a while."
"I've been on
the streets since I was 14."
"Hard knock
life, huh?"
"Harder than
you'll ever know," I answered.
"Yeah, and
it's about to get harder. Hands on the hood."
"Hmmm,"
I sat back onto the hood of the truck and put both my hands on it.
"Cute papi, but I'm no john. And even if I were, you're
jailbait." He looked at me with his dark and domineering eyes. "Now,
hop off the car and turn around."
I slid off the hood, and turned about face. The detective began to pat me
down at my sides.
"Are you
concealing any weapons?" he asked.
"Just
one."
"And what's
that?"
"Mi polla," I answered.
"I saw it
when you pulled it out, that weapon won't do any damage, vato,"
he grabbed my hands and strapped the hard metal bracelets around them.
"So how long
have you been watching me tonight?" I asked.
The detective
began walking both of us to his unmarked car. "Oh, I've been onto you for
a while. I always knew you were a player but didn't figure out what kind until
today."
"Stupido cops think I'm a drug dealer."
______________
When we arrived,
Detective Rios stopped his car right out front. He got out of the car and
walked around to the other side to get the white guy out first.
"You stay
here," he said, talking to me.
"No duh,
where do you think I'm going, stupid?"
"You're gonna
wish you hadn't said that." Detective Rios slammed the door and
disappeared inside the police station with his arrest, leaving me to think
about what I was getting into. Though I played tough and knew the Mirandas, I
never been picked up before. The closest I'd ever been was
the few times they thought I was holding. Other than that, the police weren't
in my space. I was sort of kicking myself for getting caught this time. I was
always able to stay under the radar, and the whole reason why I wasn't anymore
was because I pulled my dick out trying to convince the guy to let me in his
truck. I fucked up.
Detective Rios
returned to the car. In watching him make his way back, I sucked it up and
decided to deal with my issues like a man as my father would always say. If I
was going into jail, I was going to go with my head held high. But it threw me
off when Detective Rios didn't reach for the door to the backseat. Instead, he
went straight to the driver's door and hopped back in. Then, he started up the
car.
"What are you
doing?" I asked.
"I told you, you were gonna wish you hadn't said that," he said
with somewhat of a chuckle in his tone of voice. He put the car in reverse to
back out, and then drove away from the precinct.
"Where are
you taking me?"
"Sit back and
ride, stupid," mocking me for calling him stupid earlier.
"I didn't
mean that. I don't think you're stupid or nothin'
like that. I was just playing with you. My friend told me that if I ever got
arrested, I should just give the cop a hard time. Be playful an-an-and stuff.
Look, I never been arrested before."
"Never?"
"No. I ain't
even seen the back of no cop car or nothing. This the
first time I ever got handcuffs put on. So, I was just joking with you." I
was scared by now. I hate to say it, but with him dropping me off at the jail,
there'd be a sense of safety. But now that he bypassed the jail, he proved
himself to be unpredictable. I couldn't tell what he was going to do to me. I
hear stories all the time about the NY cops that like to rough guys up. He
seemed like he might be one of those, and the fact that we were both Boricua
wasn't gonna save me.
"What's your
name?" Detective Rios asked.
"Trigger."
"Trigger?"
he said. "Not your streetname- what's your
government?"
"It's
Trigger. Trigger Diaz."
"Where's your
family?"
"I don't
know. They kicked me out- told me never to come back," I answered.
"Why?"
"Because I'm
gay. My dad don't want nothing
to do with me and he don't want my little brothers to turn out like me. You're
not gonna take me back to them, right? Cuz they just gonna put me back out on
the street."
"No, I'm not
taking you to them."
"You're not
gonna like take me to a homeless shelter, right? Cuz all those people there smell like pee."
The detective
laughed.
"No."
"Ok. You're
not gonna beat me up or nothing? Cuz I can't fight. And it'll be unfair cuz I
got the handcuffs on me."
He laughed again.
"No. I'm not going to beat you up. And whether I take those handcuffs off
of you is your choice, Trigger."
"Well, I wanna take them off. They fucking
hurt."
The detective
chuckled once again before his car went silent; the only thing heard was the
humming of the tires on the paved street. I thought I should speak up again,
since he gave me his word that he wasn't gonna hurt me.
"Thank you,
Detective Rios," I said.
He looked in his
rearview mirror. "For what?"
"Saving me
from that fucking nazi. That guy looked crazy."
"He looked
crazy; why did you jump in the truck?"
"I was
hungry. I didn't meet anybody all day. I thought I'd be able to make enough
money so I can go to a nicer restaurant for breakfast in a couple of
hours," I explained. "But thank you. That guy had
like beady eyes and shit. He was racist too. He was a fucking nazi,
man."
"Papi, you
know what a nazi is?"
"Yeah,
they're the german guys with the white robes and
shit."
The detective
laughed once again. "I'm guessing when you started living on the streets
you stopped going to school, huh?"
I didn't answer
the question. It was true, but it was rhetorical. I didn't need to answer that.
I just looked out of the window, my arms starting to chafe behind me. Detective
Rios stopped the car in front of a large apartment building that could've easily
been a public housing establishment in Spanish Harlem, not too far from my
parents' home.
"What is
this?" I asked, growing leery.
The detective
stepped out of his car and opened the back door. "Come on," he said,
telling me to scoot over so I could get out of his car too. I did as he said.
Once I stepped out, he closed the car door behind me.
"What is this
place?" I asked.
"It's my
apartment," he said with a smile on his face. His infectious smile spread
to my face as well.
"Wait a
minute, why are we at your spot?"
"Come on,
Trigger. Don't tell me you're all talk, papi. Tienes miedo?"
"No, I'm
not," I said cautiously. I was intimidated by him, but not scared.
"But I don't do this for free."
"Ok, Ok- Is
$300 enough?" he said, reaching into his wallet.
I thought the
detective was lying, or playing me up. But when he
pulled out a bunch of $50 dollar bills, it took me by surprise. I didn't think
people carried that much money on them anymore... then it hit me. They didn't.
I looked up at
him. "You took that from that dude you arrested?"
"So what if I did? It could be yours if you come upstairs
with me," he smiled, his big pink lips spreading across his face.
I returned the
smile to him. "Can you at least uncuff me?"
He sucked air
through the small gap in his two front teeth smoothly. "I don't know. I
might want to keep you handcuffed so you don't run from me." Detective
Rios put the wallet back into his pocket and put his hand on the metal chain
that was binding my hands behind my back so he could escort me into the
building.
The building
didn't look much better on the inside. And the few people that saw us, didn't seem at all shocked by the Detective escorting
someone bound in handcuffs into his apartment. He even greeted a couple of
them, acknowledging and exchanging head nods. When we got into his apartment,
he immediately tossed me onto his mattress, I landed on my stomach. Once I
managed to waddle my way onto my back so I could look at him, he was halfway
undressed. His shirt was off, his chest and stomach muscular, yet thick as I'd
already suspected. The hair on his chest wasn't long enough to be visible from
more than a couple of feet away. He looked almost completely smooth.
He unbuttoned his
jeans and unzipped them in the blink of an eye. He didn't bother to take them
all the way off yet. Instead he just pulled the jeans
down along with his boxer shorts to expose his thick 10 inch dick. It was uncut and carried the same skin color as his
chest, both of which were a couple of shades lighter than his face. Detective
Rios climbed on top of me, straddling my body as he crawled up toward my head.
"Chupa mi verga," he said, a phrase that translated to
"Suck my dick."
His dick was semi hard and the foreskin still covered his dick and made it
look like an corn cob still wrapped. He put his dick into my mouth and allowed
me to taste and suck him up.
"Mmmm.... Puto, coma mi verga....
Ah, yesssss," he said. Fag, eat my dick.
My head stroked
his dick from underneath him. I got close enough to his body to admire his
entire build, from the tip of his head to the tip of his dickhead. While I was
sucking, I noticed that his pubes were shaved almost bald. He was a man-scaper, which accounted for the low hair on his chest too.
"Mmmm... Chupalo puto," he said, reaching his hand down to slap me
gently. Suck it, fag.
His rough voice
and all around rough style was something that a boy
like me always dreamed of; being taken by a man of his stature and presence.
"Haaaaagghhhhhh," he said, letting is
voice rumble in his vocal cords.
I wanted to hold
him; place my hands on his thick latino ass and push
him further into my mouth. I wanted the pink tip of his big ass dick trapped in
my neck, while I could hold his hips as they bounced up and down on my face. He
fed the fantasy, and I wanted nothing more than to choke underneath him. And
just as I was getting deep into it, the detective lifted himself all the way up
from me. He was in a push up position, over my head. His hard and wet dick
dangled above me like a mobile that you hang above a baby's crib. His dick was
centimeters away; not close enough for me to suck but close enough for me to
lick the tip and crave more.
"Get it, papi," he said. "Come up here and get it."
I was about to do
just that. I opened my mouth wide and raised my head so I could get back to
sucking, when his body collapsed suddenly. His dick drove through my mouth to
my throat and suddenly rebounded, lifting himself back above me and leaving me
gasping for air.
"You ok,
stupid?" he asked, again mocking the fact that I'd called him stupid
earlier in the night. Clearly this was a payback attempt but the joke was on
him.
"Mas," I
responded between gasps, requesting more.
He pushed down
with his pelvis once again, pushing his slobbered-over dick into my mouth. He
didn't rebound so quickly this time. Instead he let
his dick lay in my mouth while he towered above me.
"Mas?"
he asked.
"Mmhmm,"
I hummed, trying my best to signify that I wanted more.
He began pumping.
"Unh-unh-unh-unh-unh," he said coinciding
with five pumps of his hips that thrust his dick deep into my mouth. After the
fifth and final pump, he pulled back out, hissing and throbbing.
"Sssss..... haaagghhh,"
he said. "Turn that ass around, puto,"
I tried my best to
flip to the other side of my body, requiring some assistance that Detective
Rios was more than willing to provide. He helped flip me over, so now I was
back on my stomach with his huge dick lying up against my shoulder.
Detective Rios
moved downward on the bed, and I could feel every trace of his rod on my back
as it moved. It went from my shoulder to my spine and
I could feel it working over each bone in my vertebrae. While lowering, the
detective began kissing the back of my neck, sucking on it attentively. He was
amazingly passionate and demanding at the same time. He balanced that line of
caring and not giving a fuck perfectly to remain seductive, but vicious.
The detective's
kisses violated my neck and shoulder in a temporary distraction while his hands
wrapped around both sides of my waist. He unbuttoned my pants to loosen them
and then pulled them just under my ass.
"Yessss Trigger," he said, oddly adding a hard-g sound in the "yes" because his vocal cords were
rumbling in seduction again. "Me encanta tu culo." I love your ass.
I moaned
underneath him. My legs were placed together and his
legs were straddling both sides with his dick perfectly positioned at my ass.
He withdrew his
hand and licked it from the bottom of his palm to his middle finger. Then...
-thwap-
"Ahhhhhhh," I belted. His hand slapped my ass hard and
bruised it. My flesh immediately took on a red tint.
"Mmmmmm... that's it, papi."
He rubbed it, the very spot he'd just smacked with the full force of his hand.
He effectively soothed the bruised area for a moment, but only to slap it once
again.
"Aghh," I belted again, moving my handcuffed hands over
to that area to cover it. He chuckled, finding it funny. "Stop it."
"Ok puto," he said. He positioned his dick right between my
ass cheeks, and with very little resistance his dick began sinking into me.
"Haaaaaghhhhhh, ssssss...."
I hissed too, but
for different reasons. My body tensed up now that I was having the detective's
fire-poker beaming through my ass. I whimpered into his mattress and the
detective's dick kept moving into me, splitting my ass in two.
"Ah, yessss," the detective said. Again, his voice dropped
an octave as it met with his lustful growl. "Yes, let me fuck your
pussy!"
His body was all
over me, smothering mine beneath him. His arms were wrapped around my neck,
keeping me encased in a headlock. He used his dick to thrash around in my ass
like a wild animal with no regard for the minor ripples of pain that it was
causing me.
"Gimme,"
he said, using his free hand to slap my ass once again. The slap landed more on
my thigh than on my ass. A wetness dripped onto the back of my head. I was
unsure if this was sweat from his forehead or drool from him salivating over
the fuck. I just knew that I liked it and he obviously
liked it to.
"Oh,
fuck!"
Detective Rios'
rising and falling rhythm packed air into my ass, which made a wet suction
sound each time the base of his dick met with the rim of my asshole. His
sensitive cock pulsated inside of me.
"Gimme your
pussy," he growled again, thrusting over and over. "I will make you
my fucking wife!- Fuck you all the time!"
His thrusts became
harder and more brutal. He fucked me with the entire weight and length of his
dick. He mocked swimming as his body wormed back and forth, slinging his dick
into me. I screamed, trying to grit my teeth together to withstand the pain and
tap back into the pleasure of it all.
"Take my
fucking dick, puto," he said. He erected his
spine and pulled me up from the mattress so now we were in a perfect doggystyle
position with both of our jeans hanging below our private parts. Detective Rios
continued his wild Latin assault on my ass. Somehow
he'd fucked me backwards and off of his mattress. He was standing behind me,
while I was in front of him with my hands on the mattress, not unlike our
positions when he frisked me earlier in the night. It was no surprise that we
found ourselves reenacting that moment.
Detective Rios
placed his hands underneath my shirt and began to rub over my chest and abs. He
sculpted my body, while sucking the back of my neck. He lingered more at my
nipples than any other area, while he relentlessly pounded away.
"There-you-fuck-ing-go, puto," he said,
pairing his thrusts up with each syllable in the sentence, leaving my cries out
to go unnoticed. "Mas? Quieres mas?"
I was barely
keeping up with what he was giving me. There was no way I could handle more.
His dick was already a blazingly thick rod that was piercing through me.
"Gimme your
fucking pussy," he said one last time. He slid his hand up my chest to my
chin. He put his index finger on the side of my chin to push my head toward
him. As my head tilted, he hissed before announcing his arrival. "Ssss... ahhh, I'm cumming."
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