Political Abuse

"How do you know all of this, Adrian?"

"I was inside it. So was Jeremy Brand. So was Jacob Goldstein and his roommate, Zach Taylor. We all knew who some of these guys were. We all partied with these guys and were fucked by them."

"But I wasn't," Toby said.

"They may not remember who all they fucked and pimped, Toby. You're too close to it all. Get your tail covered."

"What matters most for you now," Toby said, "is to get your tail back in working order. Hardesty will see to the protecting of your tail."

"I wouldn't mind Hardesty working on my tail," Adrian and then gave a little laugh. "You've got yourself a hunk and a half there."

"There you go. You are feeling a lot better already."

"Seriously, though, Hardesty is one of the few nasty enough to give me what I really need," Adrian said. "If only."

"Hardesty and I have a comfortable understanding, Adrian. You help Hardesty with his investigation, and it's fine with me if he gives you what you want."

"For real?"

"Yes, for real."

"'Cause my tail is one of the few things these thugs didn't break."

"You want the fist and you're straight with Hardesty on what he needs, you'll get the fist."

"Has he ever fisted you, Toby?"

"No, so if you get that, you'll be getting from him something I've never had from him."

* * * *

Zach thought the Capitol building would be virtually deserted on a good beach day Sunday when Congress wasn't in session. His goal was a very small, out-of-the-way office that few knew had been assigned to Senator Douglas Pender more than twenty years ago. It was a hidey-hole where he could go for quick business when the Senate was in session rather than have to trek back to his main office suite in the Dirksen Senate Office Building. Pender, in turn, had turned the office over to his legislative assistant, Jim Zeller. Whenever Zach had been called in to service someone Jim and his sponsors directed him to in the prostitution operations within the congressional community, it had always been to this office that Zach had come to receive his instructions. He was hoping that some of the working papers of the ring could be found here. He'd heard nothing about the police authorities knowing about this office.

The office was located in a real warren of an area in the Capitol Senate wing's basement, where many of the other long-serving U.S. senators had similar offices that they themselves or picked staffers of theirs used.

His entry into the basement of the Senate wing wasn't as solitary as he had thought or hoped it would be, though. Just beyond the guard station, a hallway press conference was going on, complete with standing light frames and milling news reporters. Attention was focused here because little of public interest was transpiring in Washington today. Thus, some of the bigger names in political commentary had hauled themselves down to the Capitol building when the chair of the Ethics Subcommittee of the Senate Judiciary Committee, Senator Douglas Pender, had announced he'd take questions here today on the start of the Senate's probe into misconduct inside the congressional sphere that was coming out with the arrest of his own former aide, Jim Zeller.

Pender hadn't called the press conference because of the murder the night before of Zeller--indeed, that news hadn't been broken yet, even to Zeller's former boss--but because he was hoping he could say he'd had an open and transparent press conference on the topic that few reporters would show up to because the notification had gone out on short notice and it was a beautiful beach-day Sunday when Congress wasn't in session. He assumed the news reporters would be at the area beaches along with everyone else. He had misjudged the interest in the prostitution scandal in the halls of Congress, though. The major political pundits had come into their offices to put together their Monday broadcasts on the scandal, and the announcement that Pender would take their questions had brought them all scurrying to the Capitol building.

Now they clogged the basement hallway, milling about and with their recorders held up under Pender's chin to get whatever they could out of him.

As Zach nudged through the mob to get further down the corridor, his eyes met with those of the man who he'd been fucked by at the Cambridge retreat two nights earlier and who he'd later heard talking with other prominent men at the retreat about the scandal and how to contain it--and who Zach knew was up to his neck in the prostitution ring operation. Indeed, he'd been the one who seduced Zach into the ring when Zach had first arrived in Washington as a young Senate intern. Zach had been involved in gay activity in college before that, but never at the level or intensity that this man had seduced him too.

Zach's gaze was met from across the room and there was a slight smile and tilt of the head. Looking away in concern and more than a bit of fear, Zach pushed his way on through the crowd of reporters and scurried on down the hall and then through the maze of other halls until he'd reached his goal, Jim Zeller's secret Capitol building office. The man he'd locked eyes with was Doug Quillen, who Zach knew intimately as a particularly rough top. And he was also hand and glove with that political commentator, Ted Colver. If Quillen was here, so was Colver. Zach shivered and hurried on.

Zach had a key to the door if no one had changed the lock. He'd come here on numerous occasions before to receive instructions from Zeller. The key worked. Chances were good that no one even remembered this office and its connection to Zeller. Within moments, Zach was inside and going through drawers and turning the laptop computer on the desktop on. The screen tantalizingly requested a password from him. He had no idea what that would be. He unsuccessfully tried a couple of words, which didn't work.

As he gave up for now--he'd just take the laptop back to Hardesty and the police could figure out how to get into it--he heard the "Hello, Zach," and turned, in panic, toward the open door to the corridor.

"Senator," he squeaked.

"I've been thinking of you," the man said. "I enjoyed our short time together Friday night. But it was much too short." He moved into the office slowly approached Zach. He was very close.

"I enjoyed it too, Senator," Zach said, trying to control his breathing and not show his panic.

"The time was much too short," the man repeated, extending his hand to cup Zach's cheek. Zach moaned, standing there, immobilized. He never had been able to resist the man. He didn't resist the man now when he put one arm around Zach, pulling the young man to him, and glided the hand of the other arm down between their bodies, unzipping Zach and then himself. Working on Zach's belt and pushing his trousers and briefs down and off his legs--and then his own as well--he quickly had both of them in a position of intimacy.

Zach was lost in the deep kisses and the memories of the torrid assignations the two had engaged in in years past. He moaned as the man turned him onto his belly, pulled his belt out of the loops of his trousers, and struck Zach again and again on the back and buttocks with the thin leather strap. Zach knew full well that this was what the man needed to do to get hard.

When the man turned Zach and lowered his back onto the desktop, Zach voluntarily raised and spread his legs. He jerked and grimace as the man's long, hard cock entered him. He moaned and turned his head to the side, his gaze caught by the pulsing "password" request flashing on the lit computer screen, the only light in the dark room.

He arched his back and moaned, "Yes, yes, just like that," as the man established the rhythm of the slow, methodic fuck. The beat of the fuck matched the blinking of the "password" light. Zach's fingers were dug into the man's shoulder blades, opening and closing to the same rhythm. Zach raised his torso onto his elbows so that he could look into the man's eyes, and he was rewarded with a punch in the mouth and in his stomach. Zach instinctively tried to rise again and was slapped across the face hard, in one direction and then the other. He fell back onto the desk and the man punched him in the face again. He lay there then, docile, whimpering and sobbing quietly as the man fucked on.

The man's hands went to Zach's throat and he began controlling the young man's breathing, squeezing off air until Zach's eyes bulged and then giving him a few seconds to gasp in breath. He was a longstanding technique the man had used on Zach. It was meant to increase arousal, and it did. Zach desperately wanted what he was getting from the man now. The fuck and the choking continued until Zach had ejaculated and zoned out.

Another man appeared at the door to the corridor.

"Oh, you're here, Senator," Pete Drummond, an aide to Senator Clayton Hughes said. "Doug and I came to clear out Zeller's office here given the reduced activity in the Capitol building today." Another man materialized at the door to the office.

"I'm glad you're here. Help me get young Taylor here on the tram over to the Dirksen building. If anyone sees us, we'll say that the poor young man was found drunk and we're just helping to get him out of the building. There's been enough scandal around here recently. And then, yes, it would be a good idea to sanitize this room. Be sure and take this laptop out. Who knows what might be on it."

"Yes, sir. Then I'll come to your office and help you with this guy wherever you want to take him from there," Pete Drummond answered.

* * * *

Toby was met in the huge atrium of the Trump International Hotel, formerly the Washington, D.C., central post office building, by Pete Drummond.

"Did you bring what you need?" Drummond asked. "I told the escort service what was needed. I'm glad you were available. He asked for you specifically. He says he enjoyed his time with you Friday night."

"Right here," Toby answered, lifting the gym bag he had with him. He'd left a note for Hardesty that he had been called away on short notice for an assignment and might be gone and out of the loop for a couple of days. Upstairs, in the living room to the hotel suite, Toby changed into what he'd brought--sexy lace bra and panties, a filmy bed jacket, and red spike heels--and entered the bedroom. Senator Clayton Hughes was sitting on the side of the bed, naked. At sixty-four, he was gaunt, gray, and wrinkly, but Toby had serviced less-arousing politicians in his day. There was nothing special about the cock the senator was stroking other than that it was in full erection.

"There you are, my dear, looking lovely," the senator murmured. "Come and kneel to daddy and give me a little sugar."

A little sugar, in this case, meant that Toby knelt on the carpet in front of the senator's spread thighs, took the older man's cock in his mouth, and sucked him off, expertly bringing the man to the brink but not over the line. When Hughes had had enough of this attention, he lifted Toby up into his lap. Toby could feel the senator's hard cock pocking at him between his thighs as the older man wrapped his hands around Toby's torso, running a hand up under the bra, and began kissing Toby on the throat and cheek and mouth. The other hand slowly stripped Toby of the filmy bed jacket and then the bra, with Hughes leaning over and biting and sucking on Toby's nipples before returning to possessing the young man's rouged lips.

Both of the senator's hands went under Toby's buttocks and, without too much trouble, slit the seam at the back of the panties. The senator's erection was moving between Toby's thighs and getting awfully close to his rear entrance.

"Just a moment, big boy," Toby murmured. He sank to his knees again in front of Hughes, reached beside him for the condom packet there, slit it with his teeth, and looked up into the senator's eyes and gave him a provocative flash of his eyes. The senator shivered with arousal and lust as Toby put the condom disk in his mouth and then leaned over and showed that he knew how to center the disk on the old man's bulb and push it below the rim of the glans with his lips and teeth before he had to take over rolling it down the sides of the throbbing cock with his hands.

He stood back up, faced away from the sitting politician, reached around to hold the erection steady, and then descended his passage on the cock. Grabbing Hughes's knees and leaning forward as the senator grasped him by the waist, Toby, using the leverage of his stiletto-clad feet on the floor, started rising and falling on the senator's cock. He continued to do this until the senator, grasping Toby's hips in his hands, ejaculated.

There was no hope of another coming, so they both recognized that the fantasy fuck Hughes had paid Toby's escort service for had been completed.

In the bathroom, though, as Toby was standing over the toilet, Pete Drummond entered, saddled up behind Toby, and unzipped his trousers. Pete was the congressional world's liaison with Toby's escort service. The connection was a lucrative one for the escort service. All of the rent-boys knew that Drummond would take a cut of the services when he was in the mood and the escort service would be fine with that.

With a sigh, Toby leaned forward, palming the tiles behind the toilet. He widened his stance and held himself steady as Pete crowned his shaft with a condom, positioned his hard cock, mounted Toby's ass, pushed his erection up into Toby's channel, and pumped him to an ejaculation.

Holding inside Toby after he shot his load, his hands holding Toby's hips in place, his chin resting on Toby's shoulder, Drummond said, "Next pickup is at 8:00 tonight. Old Ebbitt Grill on 15th. Don't keep the man waiting."

"Yes, sir," Toby answered. There had been no thank-you for the added service. Toby hadn't really expected that there would be.

"Wait until the senator is out of the main entrance and then leave the hotel by a different one."

Once again Toby just said "Yes, sir." Pete Drummond could be mean. Toby didn't want to say anything to set the congressional staffer's meanness free.

* * * *

In the second bedroom of a nondescript red-brick rambler on a somewhat tired looking middle-class street in Northwest Washington, Adrian Mills was lying on his back, aching in every joint, breathing tenderly because of the bandaged bruised ribs and very much aware of the cast on one arm and the calf of one leg, but even more aware of, and concentrating on, the greased gloved hand inside his anal passage up to the knuckles. The room was hardly large enough to accommodate the double bed and the man with a hand up his passage was sprawled uncomfortably above Adrian, being careful not to put any weight on the beaten-down rent-boy's body.

Adrian, buttocks raised on pillows under the vinyl sheet the young man was lying on and legs spread, cried out as Hardesty's knuckles breached his sphincter. "Shit! Fuck!"

"You OK, Adrian? You can take it?"

"Fuck, yes. Shit! Shit, yes. Fuck it. Get it. Fist me!" He moaned deeply.

Hardesty didn't quite see how the rent-boy could be enjoying this, but he'd insisted this was what he wanted from the detective--that he needed more experience in this at the hand of a top he could trust. Hardesty moved the hand slightly, in and out, in and out, and Adrian cried out again in ecstasy. "Shit, yes! Get it, get it, getit!" He dug his heels into the bed and pushed his pelvis up higher. Hardesty was careful with monitoring how Adrian, who was totally lost in the sex, was using the leg with the cast on it. He also thought that the tension caused by having a fist inside him strained Adrian's ribs against his bandaging and had to be painful for the young man, but Adrian was in such ecstasy of a fist in his passage, moving, that he didn't seem to notice the pain. Hardesty sought the balance between unnecessary pain for Adrian and the wanted pain egging on sexual pleasure.

Hardesty leaned over and took Adrian's lips with his and the young man responded with passion, panting hard, moaning deep, opening his mouth to take in Hardesty's tongue. As they kissed, Hardesty moved his gloved hand, going a bit deeper, up to the wrist as Adrian shuddered, trembled and moved his hips, fucking himself on the fist. After a few minutes of this, though, the young man stroked himself off with his own hand, collapsed and groaned.

They remained like that for a few minutes, Adrian panting hard and Hardesty gripping his upper thigh with a greased gloved hand. When the young man could speak, he said, "Thanks, man. You don't know how alive that makes me feel--especially coming from a hunk like you."

When Hardesty had asked Adrian earlier why he liked fisting, he said, "Only a milder version of it. But I lie down for men so much that something extreme now is required to really get me off."

"And if I fist you, you'll talk to me then about this congressional world operation and how you and Zeller fit in to it?"

"I'll do anything for you you want," Adrian had replied.

Considering that the young man was a walking advertisement for bandages and casts, Hardesty didn't demand what he wanted in the way of sex from the rent-boy--the guy probably wouldn't be alive to tell Hardesty anything if he got what he really wanted from him. But Hardesty was hard and in heat after the fisting and Adrian's reaction to taking the fist. The fist was replaced with his cock, and although he didn't fuck Adrian hard, he did fuck Adrian, and his cock was thick and long and long-lasting enough that he still taxed the young man--and also pleased him.

Afterward Hardesty sat on the bed beside Mills. "How do you fit into this?" he asked.

"It's been going on for some time and has increased in scope. Jim Zeller always was the manager of it, but he wasn't in charge. A group of senators, representatives, and a judge or two call the shots."

"And you and Jacob Goldstein were the male candy for it? I presume there were women pages and staffers being pimped as well."

"Yes, but the operation focused on young men. I think they wanted to have a hold over the men they serviced and control of them was stronger if they were caught fucking with men rather than women. There were a couple of women cougars who were serviced, but there aren't nearly as many women at the top of the influence ladder as men. Jacob and I were in the current active providers file. Jim Zeller probably was at the beginning and Pete Drummond was from his generation. Jeremy Brand came later. He was one of the ones who left it. He and Zach Taylor. And there are a few guys who left it and are working for escort agencies."

"Guys like Toby?" Hardesty asked, not being sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"The operation has been using escort agencies from time to time. Toby gets called in occasionally, but he's never really been part of the Congress-based operation."

Hardesty sighed a sigh of relief. "You mentioned Pete Drummond. He's a legislative aide to Senator Clayton Hughes, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And Senator Hughes? He's involved in the scheme?"

"He's one of the main decision men, yes."

"OK, I want you to tell--" But just then Hardesty's cell phone rang. Crane was on his way to the Capitol building. They'd discovered that Zeller had had an office there few had known about. They were going to tear it apart and Crane wanted Hardesty there.

"Use the basement north entrance of the Senate wing," he said. "I'll have a police officer there to beam you into Zeller's office."

"You might run into one of the rent-boys, Zach Taylor, chief. If so, just hold him until I get there. He told me there was such an office and he was going there to see if Zeller left anything behind."

"Change of plans," Hardesty said to Mills when he clicked off. "I've got to go now. Write me a list of everyone you know who is involved in this and note where they fit in the scheme. I'll be back for it tomorrow. You'll be safe here. I own this house but no one you need to avoid knows about it. Maria from next door will be over in an hour or so and will look after you. Lucky for you she's both a retired cop and a nurse. You're in good hands. Just don't get her to try to fuck you like I did."