Trick (Master's Boys)

Trademarks:

Ace Bandage: 3M Corporation

Andrew Christian:
Andrew Christian, Inc.

Coke: Coca-Cola Company

Denny
'
s: DFO, LLC

Doc Martens:
Dr. Martens International Trading GmbH

Dolce & Gabbana:
G
ado
S.R.L
.

etnies:
Pierre Andre Senizergues

Lycra: Invista North America S.A.R.L.

Malibu Ken: Mattel, Inc.

Mercedes:
D
aimler
AG C
orporation

McDonalds (and Egg McMuffin): McDonald
'
s Corporation

Nike:
Nike, Inc.

Nordstom: NIHC, Inc.

Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

Readers are saying wonderful things about Patricia Logan:

"
Patricia Logan smells of old poo and doesn
'
t wear pants… but her ability to weave perfectly real and sensual love stories into stories full of intrigue, suspense and the trials and tribulations of everyday life, pulls you in and makes you forget her personal hygiene.
"
~ Lisa Worrall

"
Author Patricia Logan writes from the heart, sucking you into her story from the first page. She pulls no punches, telling gut-wrenching heartfelt stories with a reality that makes you feel you are right there. Her kind of emotional honesty is rare and essential to great writing.
"
~ Jean Joachim

"
Patricia Logan possesses the one key ingredient at her stage of writing that so many authors don
'
t and never will; an editor who can translate her cirque du soleil act of random contortionist word tappings into something presented as popular m4m prose. History will remember her fondly without the fondling, however, when someone eventually revisits her first drafts and realizes she
'
s really written a cookbook titled
"
How to Serve Me
'
…. and a Delicious One at That!
"
~ Kage Alan

"
Reading a Patricia Logan book is not something to be taken lightly, the hotness contained within combined with
multiple
piercings can result in sudden breakage of certain adult toys making rapid trips to X rated shops a necessity! AND she will refuse to take responsibility for the added expense!! Oh and despite the ho
rde
s of Navy SEAL
'
s, Cowboys, leather, whips, ropes and other convenient methods of restraint there
aren
'
t
enough firemen in her books!
"
~Petronella Bond

Dedicated to:
G.A. Hauser, a woman that I am proud to call friend. Without your guidance and your inspiration and your annoyingly bad habit of kicking my ass back into line now
,
and then I wouldn
'
t have pursued this career. I
'
m just grateful that I listened to you when you lectured me about believing in myself and ignoring my critics and I give you a lot of credit for having the restraint not to fill me with lead from that big gun you carry everywhere.

Edited by: Jae Ashley, a woman who lives in my head because she knows me so damned well even when I don
'
t.

By: Wesley Milam

The frozen and glossy tundra in the throes of Winter
'
s embrace
Majestic mountains vall
ey
s so green I sometimes cannot breath
e
Twilight skies on fire with red and gold and oceans that are deeper than time
The deep purple-black of night and the sweet release of sleep

These are the landscapes of all my dreams
Where everything is nothing and nothing is as it seems
These are the landscapes of all my fears
Where everything is
foreign
and I have cried so many tears
These are the landscapes of all my hopes
Where expectations are never shattered and I am always able to fully cope
These are the landscapes of all my losses
Where shadows linger in sadness and the ground is studded with crosses
These are the landscapes of all my dreams

The first sign of a new Spring and trees quivering in bloom
A Summer
'
s breeze caught in salty air and gulls sweeping along a beach
Sinking deeper into a lazy Summer day
'
s nap, a smile playing on my lips
The Summer
'
s end and the sound of laughing children just out of reach

These are the landscapes of all my dreams
And somewhere those dreams take root and grow
A garden of emotions and living is
born
And I will tend these landscapes with all the love that I know

These are the landscapes of all my dreams
…

The boy stood shivering in the
covered
doorway, watching the rain as it cascaded down the dank dark walls
of the alley opposite his shelter
.
The water
pooled for a moment at his feet
,
before finding its way ove
r the curb and into the gutter.
What little shelter the doorway provided didn
'
t keep his tattered Nike
'
s from getting wet.
His arms wrapped his
too
-
thin frame and his teeth chattered.
He hated living on the street, scratching around in dumpsters for food
,
and servicing the men he serviced just to survive. An occasional woman approached him and he took care of them too. One couldn
'
t be picky when your stomach was never full. No one
but his family had
ever said that Trick was dumb but he still hadn
'
t found a way out of this life, so he wouldn
'
t exactly call himself smart.

A rustle at his feet drew his attention downward and he watched a greasy black rat as it crawled into the corner up against the door and under an old newspaper, trying to keep itself out of
the storm. Trick had grown accustomed
to seeing the nas
ty things, living in an alley just off of Santa Monica Boulevard in Hollywood
. He hadn
'
t always lived in LA. When he was a kid, he
'
d lived on a farm in Westburg, Texas, just outside of Austin. When his father caught him in the barn with his lips around the cock of one of the field hands at fourteen, he
'
d been booted out of the family home for good. Trick
'
s parents had shown no mercy and had told him that they
'
d pray for his condemned soul, as they waited for him to pack his one and only bag. His mother handed him ten dollars and told him to take a bus as far
away
as that would take him
. Looking into the eyes of the woman who gave him life, he saw nothing but disgust. The hardest thing Trick ever did was
to
walk out of that house.

Afraid and alone, he made his way
to LA. He used his thumb and hitched most of the way. Only one man insisted on a blow job as a
tradeoff,
and hell, Trick didn
'
t mind giving blow jobs to good looking guys. The guy even slipped him a twenty when he dropped him off in Albuquerque
. That had been a good thing, because, the ten his mother gave him hadn
'
t gone very far
, even with dollar menu meals.
That had been nearly four
years ago
,
and Trick was tired. He was used up in every way a boy could be used up and he
'
d seen more of the seedy side of life than he
'
d ever imagined. All he wanted was to go home or
even
have a home. Some nights he slept at the mission but
that meant a bus ride to down
town and
those beds filled up quickly
so it was a wasted trip half the time
. The economy had affected Los Angeles the same way that it affected other parts of the country
, and the streets seemed to swell with
more homeless every day.

Trick was dragged from his musings as a newer model Mercedes slowed to a stop beside his doorway. The white SL550 Roadster
'
s tinted
passenger side
window rolled down. Trick perked up. This opportunity could mean he
'
d actually eat today. The inside of the car was dark
,
and with the grey of dawn and the overcast of rainclouds, Trick couldn
'
t make out the man
'
s face but he did see the guy lean toward the passenger window to speak to Trick.

"
You workin
'
out here, boy?
"
Something in the man
'
s voice both startled and soothed Trick. He
'
d been beat u
p more than a few times by his j
ohns but never so bad that he hadn
'
t gone right back to doing what he had to do to survive. He stayed within the shelter of the doorway but pushed away from the wall, standing as tall as his
five
foot
eight
inch frame would allow.

"
Yeah. You want some of this?
"
Trick asked, thrusting his hips out to show off his package to the man.

"
Get in,
"
the man said. Trick grinned and stepped onto the sidewalk, instantly getting pelted by the pouring rain as he reached for the door handle. Once inside the car, he was immediately hit with the new car smell and
felt the heat of the seat
beneath his ass.
Nice!
As he got a good look at the older man, his jaw nearly dropped. The guy was gorgeous and built like a brick wall. It was Trick
'
s lucky day
,
and he was going to pull out all the stops
to
please this man so much the guy would want to use him again and again.
Something in the guy
'
s eyes drew Trick in immediately. The guy vibrated danger
,
yet there was something about his
eyes
that
Trick couldn
'
t
quite decipher
He looked… nice.

"
You can pull into that alley, if you want,
"
Trick offered as he pointed, figuring that at this time of morning, the guy would be on the way to work and would want a quickie
blow job
and not some motel bed.

"
I have other plans,
"
was all the man said
,
and Trick tried to smile and not become nervous.
This guy probably outweighed Trick by close to a hundred pounds, if he were to venture a guess.
After all, Trick wasn
'
t a very big kid, underfed the way he
'
d been. It didn
'
t
really affect his business though. He knew some guys liked twinks just fine
,
and he sure filled that bill. Most of his interaction wi
th his j
ohns was done on his knees anyway. He had the calluses to prove it.

"
My name
'
s Trick, by the way,
"
Trick said, nervously.
He silently cursed himself for the shakiness that he heard in his voice.

"
Master P,
"
the man said. Trick wasn
'
t sure that he
'
d heard correctly. What kind of a name was that? He glanced over at the guy who stared straight ahead. The guy ha
d the most beautiful jaw line, s
quare and strong
,
and Trick felt his cock begin to fill as he stared. The guy suddenly looked over at him
,
and Trick was once again reminded that this wa
s a really dangerous looking man
. He tore his gaze away from the guy
'
s face and looked out his window
,
trying not to panic. He located the door locks on the side console just in case he had to make a quick exit.

"
You eat today?
"
the
guy
suddenly
asked. Trick snapped his head around in surprise and stared into the guy
'
s eyes just as they passed under a streetlight.
Damn, they
'
re blue
. The
man had black hair,
buzzed really short
, that added to the stark power of his appearance
.
As nervous as Trick was, he was
also oddly attracted to the john
and that had sure never happened
before.

"
I asked you if you ate, boy,
"
the man growled
,
and Trick came out of his trance.

"
N… No, not today,
"
he
stammered, wondering why the dude
gave a shit. Maybe he was planning on keeping him around for more than one quickie and thought he needed energy or something. The guy didn
'
t say anything else, so Trick turned his attention back to the view of Santa Monica Boulevard through his window.
He recognized two or three kids that he knew worked the streets a
s they passed them on the boulevard. They were called the Boulevard Boys; some hot shot LA Times reporter had named the male prostitutes in an article back in 1990
,
and it had stuck. Trick was proud that he had a title. It validated his very existence. It was the only thing that did
. He
'
d hung out with most of the
street
kids at one time or another. Three
and a half
years was a really long time when you had to scrape for every morsel o
f food that went into your belly.
Sometimes
he had to choose between food and lube
,
and lube almost always won out.

The Mercedes
turned the corner a couple of times and then
pulled into a parking lot
,
and Trick looked side to side,
realizing that they
'
d driven up
t
o a Denny
'
s Restaurant
on Sunset
. He glanced over at the man, Master whatever, and watched a hint of a smile as the guy
'
s lips turned up at the corners.
He hoped and prayed that the man wouldn
'
t be so cruel as to leave him sitting in the car while he went in to eat, but Trick had no more faith in anything or anyone. Life had been too cruel to him the last three years.
The guy threw the car into park and pushed a button, turning off the engine before turning to Trick.

"
Well, get out. You
'
re hungry
,
aren
'
t you? You
'
re sure skinny enough,
"
the man remarked gruffly. Trick
'
s heart leapt in his chest and he couldn
'
t believe his stroke of luck. None of his johns ever bought him food. Some even
stiffed him without paying him after the deed was done.
He scrambled to open his car door as the man stepped onto the wet asphalt. Trick
'
s thin hoodie wasn
'
t very much protection against the pouring rain and he rushed to get under the restaurant
'
s awning at the entrance. He heard the man
'
s feet hit
ting
the pavement as he ran behind him. It wasn
'
t until he got inside the restaurant, that he turned, getting his first real look at his benefactor.
Holy Shit! The guy
'
s a tree!
The man towered over
Trick by nearly a foot. His wide shoulders, covered by a black leather jacket, seemed to go on for days. In the restaurant light
s
, Trick noticed the way his clear blue eyes twinkled
,
and when the guy smiled a genuine smile for the first time, Trick discovered the twin dimples in his cheeks.
Drool!

"
Two for breakfast?
"
Trick had been so enamored with the man
'
s good looks that he hadn
'
t even seen the hostess walk up.

"
Two,
"
the man said in a voice that went straight to Trick
'
s cock. There was something so forceful and dominant about the man and it turned Trick on more than he
'
d ever been turned on. He never got horny with his johns
,
and he rarely came unless it was by his own hand
or if he was being paid for the money shot
, which was sometimes a john
'
s thing
. Most of the guys he worked with blew each other for fun, but Trick knew that was dangerous. Besides being
whores, a lot of his coworkers were also junkies. Trick never knew whether they practiced safe sex, regardless of the fact that they all said they did
,
so he didn
'
t take any chances. On the rare occasion that he played with them, h
e made them apply a condom when he blew them.
Trick watched as the waitress walked them back to a booth and set brightly colored menus in front of them.