A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 08

"Keep your fucking hands off me!" Rayne exhaled, pumping his cock harder. It was no use though, he could not cum whilst this horny stranger was hovering greedily waiting to see him spurt. He pumped away at his prick until it felt raw and sore and his hands both ached but to no avail He could not reach a climax.

This privately dismayed Rayne, he was about to appear in a porn movie and he could not even jerk himself off. At last, even Doctor Mahmoudi took pity on him.

"Stop," he commanded, catching Rayne by the wrist and pulling his hand away from his sore, swollen penis. "This is not productive."

"No." Rayne blushed a little. He sat up with some difficulty and Doctor Mahmoudi bent over his crotch then took his hot, painful cock carefully into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Rayne leaned back on his elbows with a little whimper of mingled discomfort and relief as the doctor's tongue caressed his hard-on, licking and flicking over his rod as his lips stroked up and down the sensitive shaft and warm fingers tickled his balls.

"Mmmhhhh..." Rayne moaned hoarsely as Doctor Mahmoudi kissed his way to the base of his prick and began to lick and suck on his bollocks. He let the older man spread his legs, kissing and tonguing his groin and scrotum then swallowing his balls one at a time.

"You are such a sexy little boy," Mahmoudi whispered to him as he was kissing and licking Rayne's oozing prick again. "Where does a man's lapping tongue give you the most intense pleasure my young friend?"

"Aaaahhhhh..." Rayne squirmed as he was teased gently. "Ohhhh.... Christ! My nipples... and... and my arsehole!"

"You like to be sucked and licked here?" Mahmoudi gripped his thighs and pulled him to the edge of the table where he began to suck Rayne's tiny, dark teats hungrily whilst stroking the boy's balls.

"Mmmhhhhh... Ohhhhhhh... Yeah!" The boy surged against him, quivering at the wet, pleasurable sensations that flowed from his chest, down into his groin. His doctor teased him with the rough, wet surface of his tongue, licking his bare torso and occasionally biting his nipples as they writhed on the narrow mattress together.

"And here?" Mahmoudi was suddenly squirming back down between his legs, forcing them apart so that he could stroke his tongue up and down Rayne's arse crack, tickling the silky smoothness of his young bottom with his moustache as he began to eat the boy's twitching orifice.

"Jesus!" Rayne exhaled, throwing back his head and panting with need as that fat, wet tongue wriggled and probed at his rear entrance. His ring was fairly elastic after the vigorous internal examination earlier in the morning and it did not take a great deal of effort for the doctor to get inside him and begin to lick out his hole. Rayne's knees were over his shoulders and Mahmoudi's face was buried in the boy's soft white crack as he tongue kissed his patient's anus long and slow on the examination table.

Rayne sank back and began to pump his cock again. Having his chute tongue fucked never failed to get him off, and it did not fail this time. He squirted long and hard with a throaty growl of approval, dousing his belly with semen. At last he collapsed, loose-limbed and exhausted on the plastic-covered mattress but Doctor Mahmoudi was not done with him yet.

As the boy lay panting and dripping with cum on his table, he took his sample then left the room for a few moments. When he returned there was a knowing smile on his face. Rayne was lying draped across the bed, panting with satisfaction, his eyes closed and his lips parted.

"I've just told Daniel and your friend that I'm going to have to keep you here for a little while longer until I'm satisfied with you," he said heartily. He went to the desk by the examination table and bent over it for a moment rummaging in one of the drawers.

"They've gone?" Rayne asked warily, opening his eyes and sitting up at once. He reached without looking for the box of tissues on the desk beside his perch, mopping at the spill on his belly and thighs.

"Yes," Mahmoudi confirmed in an odd voice. "We are alone together now, Rayne. So you can tell me what it is that you want from me and I will tell you the price it commands."

He set out a handful of small, white plastic containers from his locked drawer on the edge of the desk. They had medical labels on them and annotations in the doctor's own hand, which identified their real purpose.

"This one," he said, tapping a finger against the lid of the vessel on the right, "is pure opium. It comes in from China and Burma, quite rare these days, it generally gets refined down into other narcotic substances before it reaches Europe but there is still a small market for it."

He shuffled the middle pot to the fore and said; "This is medical grade Ketamine. I try not to prescribe this without a psychological examination first. It can lead to depressive episodes and hallucinations."

Rayne licked his lips nervously. He knew all about Special K, having experienced a couple of incredible trips on the stuff in London. Only the most adventurous dealers were handling it but it was the stuff of legend among some of clubland's more hardcore addicts, crossing the boundaries between Junk and LSD. The assertion was that it was not addictive but there had been a rumour that one kid had jumped off the fifth floor of a multi-storey car park in Dulwich during the Spring, high on K and convinced that he was really an angel.

Mahmoudi picked up the third and final container and rolled it between his palms.

"This is Heroin," he said levelly. "I acquire small amounts for the purposes of extreme pain relief. It is imported for me from Karachi, where some of the finest medical supplies in the world are grown and refined."

Rayne slid off the table as he was speaking, his eyes on the phail in the Doctor's hands. He took a deep breath as the older man fell silent.

"What do you want?" Rayne whispered, nodding towards the plastic container reverently. "For the Junk... what do I have to do?"

Mahmoudi smiled knowingly.

"You are a smart boy, Rayne. You know the value of these commodities in your own country I am sure. What price would this fetch, do you think?"

"Depends how much and how you were payin' for it, I guess," Rayne said cautiously. He had not taken his eyes off the little pot of Junk.

"And how would you pay me for such a thing?" Mahmoudi probed.

"I'll have some money, but not for a few days," Rayne told him, feeling weak at the thought of waiting for so long.

"Oh come now, surely you can do better than that?" the Doctor chided, turning to put the three little containers back in the drawer of his desk. He closed it and turned the key in the lock with a solid click. "You could pay me right now, here in this room, if you wanted to."

As he turned back to face his patient, Rayne was still gazing hungrily at the drawer behind him. The boy licked his lips again, restless and edgy so close to his heart's desire.

"What do you want?" he asked atonally, without lifting his gaze.

"You know what I want." Mahmoudi came to him now, cupping his face and turning those drowning, helpless eyes up to his own. Cherubic lips parted around a little gasp and the Doctor eased the tip of his thumb between them, feeling the boy's hot tongue flicker across the broad pad. He pushed it in deeper and Rayne's lips closed around it, sucking on it gently. His small, white teeth closed but did not bite hard on the intrusive digit in his mouth. Even sunburnt it was such a pretty face, Mahmoudi thought, tilting the kid's head back further and caressing the smoothness of his neck and throat with one hand as Rayne sucked his thumb and fingers. "Kneel down," he whispered huskily now.

The lad released his thumb and went down slowly, his head still tilted back, looking up at Mahmoudi all the time. His full, pink lips were still lightly parted, glistening wetly as he stared back into the Doctor's eyes. Then, slowly, his gaze lowered. His eyes were on a level with Doctor Mahmoudi's stiffening dick and they rested in his crotch now, unblinking and contemplative.

"You know what to do, Rayne," Mahmoudi urged, stroking his soft black hair encouragingly. "Take it in your mouth."

Rayne's lips parted further and he tilted his head to wrap them around the first three inches of his Doctor's long, brown cock. Softly, with a featherlight touch, he stroked his lips to the tip of Mahmoudi's throbbing helm, then opened wider and swallowed him in again, repeating the motion, but getting a little more of his companion's sex into his mouth each time. He closed his eyes and began to work his tongue in slow, sensuous circles up and down the underside of the Doctor's erect shaft as he nodded his dark head closer and closer to Mahmoudi's groin.

"Oh you wonderful boy! That's good!" the Doctor panted, delighted and aroused by the sight and the sensation of Rayne's hot, wet mouth around his erect penis.

Rayne gulped him down steadily. Those long black lashes fluttered a little but he did not open his eyes as Mahmoudi's swollen glans touched the back of his throat and forced his jaws wider. He uttered a little groan and gagged slightly, then his lips folded back around the long shaft on his tongue and he began to swallow hard, taking slow breaths through his nostrils. His head was still tilted to one side as he took all of the older man's erection in his mouth and throat. The outward breath was warm and pleasantly ticklish in the Doctor's crotch.

Mahmoudi felt small, warm hands on his naked thighs as Rayne began to nod again, more quickly this time. The quiet, slippery, sucking and licking noises and the occasional throaty moan of appreciation were the only sounds in the peaceful surgery for several minutes. Now the Doctor rested both hands on Rayne's sable hair and began to thrust steadily in time with his patient's nodding head. Rayne moaned around the length of flesh in his mouth but he did not try to resist. One of his hands moved between Mahmoudi's legs and began to caress his balls ever so gently at first then with increasing urgency.

His careful caresses helped to stimulate the Doctor to a speedy climax and he began to buck rapidly now, both hands tangled in Rayne's silky black hair. He spurted, with a grunt of enthusiasm, on the outbound thrust and his semen spattered the face and hair of the young man kneeling before him. Rayne blinked and lifted a hand to wipe his nose and eyes as the Doctor reeled away behind his desk and located some more tissues to clean himself and his patient up. He was still breathing heavily once Rayne had come back from washing his face at the sluice.

"You are a professional. I like that," the older fellow said, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

Rayne sat down with a too-knowing look on his face. His green eyes were sharp and clever, the gaze of a child that has grown up too quickly.

"Then you're not going to welch on your side of the deal, are you," he remarked, never taking his eyes off Mahmoudi, not even for a moment.

"No," the Doctor assured him. "But I cannot give you much. If you return to the boat incapacitated then Mr Leland will know for sure where you got the drugs."

"You can give me a shot now and some for later," Rayne Wilde said reasonably. "I'll smoke the rest. I prefer it that way anyhow."

"You will keep it a secret from our friend Mr Leland?" Mahmoudi unscrewed the lid from the little white pot and spread a napkin on the table on the measuring dish of a small electronic scale. He poured carefully as Rayne nodded, pale eyes fixed on the greyish powder that trickled out.

"I promise."

Rayne shivered a little as Mahmoudi tightened the tourniquet around his upper arm. A small amount of heroin was cooking on a petrie dish over the bunsen burner on the Doctor's workstation. The fumes alone were making him twitchy. Too often, Johnno had made him wait his turn whilst others got their fix. Sometimes there was next to nothing left and he had to be content with chasing the wreath of pale smoke rising from the foil. He closed his eyes again as the older man drew up the small measure into a syringe and came towards him.

"You should try to lose this habit, Rayne," he said mildly, locating a vein at the second attempt and gently easing the point of the needle in. "It does you no favours."

"I know," the boy whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please..."

With a sigh, the Doctor depressed the plunger and withdrew the needle. He taped the wad of cotton wool from the earlier blood tests back over the bead of bright blood in the crook of his patient's slender arm then removed the tourniquet. Rayne quivered again. For a little while he did not move or even talk. The sensation was like falling from a great height onto a pillow of clouds. He felt hot and cold, then intensely, profoundly still. After a moment or so he remembered how to breathe and took a long gulp of air.

"Okay?" Mahmoudi asked as if from a distance.

He nodded. This was more than okay. It was incredible. This was possibly the most amazing fix he had ever known. Mahmoudi had not lied about it being top notch stuff. For a little while he was flying; he had done it, broken the loop, no more Johnno. No more back streets and scumbags! He was in the South of France he was gonna make movies and money... more money than he would ever spend, even on Junk.

"That... that's good gear," he breathed when he could finally make words. The smile on his face was a brilliant, fragile thing.

"Use it sparingly," Mahmoudi warned. "Do you want to lie down for a little while?"

Rayne shook his head. He didn't want to lie still, he wanted to dance and laugh and tell people about this wonderful life he had discovered. Doctor Mahmoudi folded the napkin up into a small wrap and put it in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, feeling tears spring to his eyes. What a fantastic man, giving him something like this.

"Put it away," Mahmoudi said to him. "And be careful with it."

"I will." Rayne unzipped the little pouch around his neck and tucked the wrap inside. He fastened it carefully as he had been told. Doctor Mahmoudi came up close behind him, rolling on a condom and bent him firmly over the desk in order to mount and penetrate him. As he sprawled on the green leather upholstered surface with the older man's hand on the back of his neck, keeping him down, he whispered; "Thank you. Oh my god... thank you!"

ALL AT SEA:

"Everything okay?" Ant asked solicitously when Rayne got back to the boat.

The boy treated him to a beaming smile, which instantly worried the older man.

"Totally fantastic!" he chirruped. "I've just had a fucking AIDS test, what d'you reckon to that, eh? Rock'n'Roll or what?"

"I'm sure it's just a precaution," Ant said warily but his face told a different story.

*

"What are you worried about?" Daniel Leland purred from behind his newspaper when Ant voiced his concerns. "You've been careful, haven't you? After all, you know his history. I'm sure the little slut will be fine. He seems quite good at taking care of himself. Maybe you should do the same."

"Are you suggesting that 'I' ought to have an AIDS test?" Ant queried, mildly horrified.

"Only if you're seriously worried my dear child," Daniel said, without looking up at him. "I mean... you did use rubbers when you fucked the little tart, 'didn't' you?"

Ant sat down rather heavily in the nearest chair and put his head in his hands.

*

"You'll get cancer," Aldo warned seriously as he flopped down on the sunlit deck beside Rayne. The English boy was smoking a roll up, having bought some papers and tobacco on the way back to the boat. He was sitting cross-legged on the upper deck beneath a parasol, staring out into space behind his huge, dark sunglasses. The little pad of cotton wool was still taped to his arm like a medal for valiant conduct.

"Woo Hoo," he exhaled now, utterly deadpan. "Bring it on!"

"It's just a precaution, the blood test," Aldo said reassuringly from just outside the circle of shade cast by his umbrella. "You'll be fine."

"I bet 'you' hope so, after last night," Rayne turned his face towards the Italian youth though his eyes were still invisible behind his shades.

"You could have asked me to stop if you didn't want it," Aldo returned, holding his gaze through the smoked glass. "You don't have to take your frustration out on me. I told you last night, I'm on your side."

Rayne sucked on the roach again and shrugged his shoulders slightly. He held the smoke down deep in his lungs for a little while then let it go. Aldo stretched his long, lean, well-muscled body languidly and lay back, propped up on his elbows watching the wavelets and the little cruisers bobbing in the harbour.

"How come you've got an American accent?" Rayne asked him finally, taking another drag. The cigarette was pure tobacco. He had contemplated adding a pinch... but no, that would just be greedy. Mahmoudi had warned him to be careful.

"I do a lot of work in New York."

He pronounced it Noo Yoik. Rayne smiled a little at that but only said; "Movies?"

"Yeah. It's big bucks out there. The studios get their actors tested every couple'a months." Aldo spread himself out to catch every last ray of the sun that he could.

"You'll get skin cancer," Rayne pointed out sagely, gesturing skyward with his roll up.

"I'm Italian, we're born tanned," Aldo retaliated, puffing out his bronzed chest.

"Twat!" Rayne said, but he had a smile on his face. Aldo nudged him in the ribs.

"You're just jealous."

"Yeah, right! I've always wanted to be a brainless stud-muffin with leather skin!" He was grinning broadly now.

"You're in a good mood this morning," Aldo commented, sitting up and ruffling his hair. "Not so sore now?"

"Only my arse," Rayne flashed back archly.

"Did Mahmoudi try to grope you?" Aldo had a twinkle in his dark eyes as he said it.

For a moment the younger man seemed to flounder then he drew on the dwindling roll up one last time and flicked the ashes overboard casually. Tilting his head back he blew a perfect ring of smoke up into the dome of the parasol.

"He did until I sucked him off," he breathed. "That settled him down all right."

Aldo gagged. "You sucked his cock? Aaggghhh!"

"Pussy!" The English boy turned his head to grin at him playfully. "You suck dick for a living and that's too much for you?"

"I get 'paid' to suck dick," Aldo reminded him.

"Who says I did it for nothing?" Rayne drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His smile was almost vicious. "He fucked me as well. And it was 'so' worth it."

"I do not get your sense of humour sometimes," Aldo rolled onto his side to look enquiringly at his co-star. "Are all English guys like you?"

"I doubt it." Rayne Wilde said with a shake of his head.

They sat in companionable silence for a little while, enjoying the sun and the play of the waves around the boat. Aldo turned and lay on his stomach, perfecting the bronzed curves of his backside and Rayne eased his slim legs over the side and rested his chin on his folded arms over the low guard-rail, closing his eyes. It was turning into a searingly hot day, his mood was mellow, and he decided it would be quite nice to do nothing at all.

Their peace was disturbed by the return to the boat of the two young men whom Rayne vaguely recalled from the previous evening. They both wore shades and matching silver stetsons this morning. Although they were not quite as toned or as tanned as Aldo, they 'were' identical, right down to their behaviour – which this morning seemed to have been programmed to 'childish' mode.

"We-ell, lookee here!" one of them whooped. "Looks like the laydeez have bagged all the sun deck for them-selves!"