The lockdown felt endless. Uncle David had recovered his strength, thankfully, but hope was a luxury that felt difficult to afford. The clanking of gunfire on the building’s metal shutters was unceasing. There was no sunlight with the shutters closed, and what light they did have was watery and weak and quickly came to feel sickly.
Uncle David tried to keep things positive. He told Norrie stories of the old days, of the abundant luxuries they’d taken for granted, like clear skies and clean water and safe neighborhoods. He taught Norrie every song he knew, and they sang together quietly to the beat of the violence outside. But even Uncle David’s optimism was limited. As the days drew on and their food began to dwindle, the man grew withdrawn. Norrie could tell that he was worried.
“It’s okay,” he assured Norrie, handing him a bowl with their last serving of canned chili. “I’m an adult and you’re a growing boy. You need it more than I do. I’ll be fine.”
The thing was... “Some of our neighbors have food,” Norrie told him. “I... um... I could go get us more.”
Uncle David smiled sadly. “It’s a nice thought, but I doubt anyone will give us anything for free. Some of our neighbors are... well, let’s just say I don’t exactly trust in the kindness of their hearts.”
Norrie swallowed. “I can get it,” he promised. “I, um, I made friends with some of them. While you were sick. I... they’ll give it to me. If I ask.”
Uncle David raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You talked to them?”
“Yeah,” Norrie confirmed, wondering how much he could say. What his uncle would believe. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m a kid, but they helped when I asked nice. They gave me medicine and some of the food we already ate. Umm. If they think I’m alone, without a grown-up, they might still pity me enough.”
Now Uncle David’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know if I want you going around lying to people like that.”
Norrie scowled at the carpet. He didn’t much want to do what he was considering either, but their options were perilously limited. “It’ll be okay,” he promised. “They like me. Besides, if we don’t get more food soon then you could get sick again and then it wouldn’t even be a lie.”
Uncle David sighed. Norrie could tell he didn’t like the idea, but he must have seen the logic of Norrie’s argument, because he finally waved him onward with a hand. “Alright,” he said eventually. “But be careful. Don’t go inside anyone else’s apartment; stay in the hall. And don’t let anyone get close enough to you that they could grab you.”
Norrie shook his head. “It’s fine,” he promised. “You don’t have to worry so much. They won’t hurt me.”
And so that afternoon he went out into the hall once more. Shut the door behind him. Took a deep breath. Gerald’s words rang in his head, over and over like the chorus of a song.
“You keep giving good ass and head like that, I bet you could get anything you want from any man in this building.”
He began with the third door from their apartment, the one with the elderly neighbor who’d slammed the door in his face last time. He knocked politely. As it had last time, the door opened just a crack and a suspicious eye glared out from a nest of wrinkles. It focused down on Norrie. “What do you want?” came a thin, weedy voice.
Norrie took a deep breath and turned around. Looking over his shoulder, he put two hands on the hem of his pants and pulled them down just a little bit, just enough to show the top of his buttcrack. He tried to smile at the man, although his arms were shaking with nervousness. “Hi there,” he said. “I was hoping to trade food for some...” he hesitated. What was the right word to use? “...time together. If you’re interested.”
There was a thoughtful pause from the other side of the door. Then it shut once more. For a moment Norrie felt equal parts disappointment and relief. Then there was the sound of a chain being slid out of a lock, and the door opened once again, wider this time.
The old man jerked his head, gesturing Norrie inside.
And so began Norrie’s career as a whore. He didn’t know the word at first, but the men of the apartment building were plenty eager to teach it to him. He developed a routine of going out on a “supply run” every day or two, and got to know them all quite well.
There was the old man, Mr. Johannson, who rarely gave him much but also didn’t require much more than a blow job before he was satisfied. He would pant heavily, catching his breath like he’d run a marathon after coming all over Norrie’s face.
There was young fat man with one of the building’s only televisions who liked to fuck Norrie from behind while watching his shows, slamming into his ass for hours upon hours, coming in him again and again while Norrie tried to distract himself with the narratives unfolding on screen. He told Uncle David that he’d been invited in to watch TV, and that’s why he’d taken so long. He came up with other excuses for why he didn’t want to sit down for the rest of the day.
He learned to keep a little squeeze bottle of lube stashed in the hallway to bring with him on his ventures after a dusty-haired man with a cruel nose fucked him with nothing more than spit, wrenching him open with searing pain and showing no mercy as he plowed the young hole.
He met the twin brothers who lived downstairs, who loved to fuck him together—starting with one each in his mouth and ass and then switching positions so that each of them came twice. The third time he went to their apartment was the first time two men put their cocks in his ass at the same time, lifting Norrie’s knees to his chest and pinning him between them like a little bee surrounded by the petals of a flower.
There were ten doors on each floor. Over time, Norrie met the residents behind every single one.
There was Cassian, the young black computer technician who loved to be complimented, loved hearing Norrie choke out lies about how full and amazing he felt impaled on the man’s enormous cock, refusing to come until Norrie begged him for it. There was Devon, the middle-aged white businessman who seemed to take pleasure in how much pain he could cause, wrenching Norrie’s nipples and pulling his hair and smacking his buttocks until he was red and raw and crying out and only then silencing him with a cock in his throat.
Some men were cheerful, and thanked him as they emptied their semen into one of his orifices. Others were cruel or callous, and spat insults or derogatory slurs as they penetrated him, degrading him even as they still took their pleasure from his body. But all of them paid up, gifting him food, household supplies, even simple things like a deck of cards that helped make the days pass a little easier.
As days drew into weeks drew into a month, Norrie became used to his role. It grew easier and easier to handle the girth of a phallus spreading open his ass, to breathe around a cock as it was pushed deep down into his throat, to know when to close his eyes to avoid a splash of semen across the bridge of his nose.
There was only one door in the entire apartment that he avoided: the one nearest the exit on the first floor, where Mr. Jalor lived. He hadn’t particularly left it alone on purpose at first, but after the first week or so of trading his body for goods, it became clear from some of the men’s remarks that this sort of behavior might end up getting Norrie in trouble.
“Mr. Jalor is gonna be so pissed when he finds out that a whore managed to sneak in through his rules anyway,” a man called Jeremy laughed as he fucked Norrie hard over the arm of his couch. “He thought that banning women from the building was good enough. He had no idea that a little slut like you was under his nose the whole time, just begging to be crammed full of meat.” He came hard in Norrie’s ass as Norrie considered his words.
And so Norrie never knocked on the door at the end of the first floor hallway.
But this could only spare him for so long.
He was exiting the door of Mr. Jalor’s neighbor, apartment two, when he finally ran into the man he’d heard so much about. Norrie stepped out into the hallway, carrying a box of uncooked pasta under one arm and self-consciously wiping cum from his face, when he was startled by someone clearing their throat right next to him. He jumped, whirling to face the noise.
Mr. Jalor stood leaning against the open doorway of his apartment, scowling at Norrie. He was a tall, slim Indian man with short hair and a neatly-trimmed mustache. His nose was like the beak of a hawk as he looked down it at Norrie.
“So you’re the one causing all this trouble in my building,” he said severely.
“T-trouble?” Norrie quavered, panicking. All his efforts would be for nothing if he managed to get himself and Uncle David evicted from the building. “No trouble. Umm. I haven’t been doing anything bad, I promise.”
The man’s scowl did not dissipate. “Nothing against the rules, I’ll grant. But don’t think I don’t hear you through these walls or across the hall, moaning like some harlot. I run a disciplined establishment here. There’s no place for wanton vices and sin in this building.”
Norrie didn’t understand several of the words the man had used, but his meaning was clear enough. He clutched his pasta close to his chest, nervous. “Umm... that’s...” He didn’t know how to respond.
“Well?” the man demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I-I-” Norrie squeaked. “I just needed food.” And toys. And games. And sometimes just straight-up cash. He hadn’t told Uncle David about that—he didn’t know how he was supposed to explain it. By now he wasn’t even doing it out of necessity; they had plenty of food. He’d just gotten so used to letting the men of the building have him, it hadn’t occurred to him to stop. Maybe Mr. Jalor was right. Maybe there was something sinful about him.
Instinct kicked in. After over a month of allowing men to have their way with his body, there was one surefire way that Norrie knew to appease someone.
He dropped to his knees in front of the landlord and began to nuzzle the man’s crotch with his face. “Oh please, Mr. Jalor,” he mewled, “don’t kick us out. Please, I’ll do anything. I promise, all I’m doing is cheering everybody up. Making them happy. Not causing trouble. Let me show you. I can do it for you, too.”
Mr. Jalor’s body went stock still, stiff as a board. It gave Norrie time to undo his belt and reach inside for his cock, sucking it hastily into his mouth before the man could find time to voice an objection.
The man choked slightly as Norrie wordlessly licked and sucked his penis, trying to apply every little bit of skill he’d gained over the past month. He moaned enthusiastically around the organ, feeling it stiffen against his tongue.
“Fuck,” the landlord murmured. He grabbed Norrie by the hair and yanked him backwards. Norrie looked up at him with wet, panicked eyes, but he needn’t have worried.
Still holding him by the head, Mr. Jalor dragged him into the apartment, slamming the door behind them. Then he leaned against the closed door and guided Norrie back to his previous position.
Feeling more confident now, Norrie eagerly shoved his mouth down onto the man’s cock once more, forcing it into his throat and swallowing around it. He felt the man’s hands tighten in his hair as he went to work.
Norrie fucked his own face with the man’s cock for several long minutes, bobbing up and down over the phallus, pulling off to lick and suck at the head, then returning it to the tight confines of his throat. The man was average size for Norrie’s experience, and he barely choked at all as he feasted on the member.
He was hoping Mr. Jalor would get off quickly; the longer this went on, the more time the man had to come to his senses. So after fifteen minutes or so of dutifully sucking the man’s cock with no sign of release, Norrie decided to change tactics.
He pulled away from the well-attended phallus and shucked off his own pants quickly, turning around and folding himself down onto the floor. With both hands he grabbed his rear end and pulled his buttocks apart, displaying his hole in a clear offering. The orifice was still soft and dripping from his previous encounter that day with Mr. Drimmer in apartment two.
“Oh please,” he moaned, going for what he knew the other men loved to hear the most. “Please, I’m dying to feel you inside me. I want you so bad. Won’t you please, please have mercy and fuck my needy little hole?”
It didn’t take any more encouragement than that. Seconds later Mr. Jalor was on his knees and plunging into Norrie’s ass, filling him in one long, smooth stroke. Norrie groaned his encouragement as the man slid home and then began to thrust immediately with slow, deep motions that rocked them both.
Norrie squeezed his rectum as tight as he could around the invading member, milking it for all he was worth. “Harder!” he demanded. “Really pound me! You feel so good! You’re so big!”
Mr. Jalor did as he was instructed, fucking Norrie rough and determined, grinding the boy’s face into the carpet. He slammed forward with such force that it made a wet slapping sound against Norrie’s cheeks, turning them red and raw as though he was being spanked. Norrie cried out and mewled and pleaded with Mr. Jalor about how good it was, how much he loved it, how much he wanted it to never end.
“Here it comes,” Mr. Jalor ground out finally through gritted teeth, his hands holding onto Norrie’s shoulders for leverage through his last few brutal thrusts.
“Yes, yes!” Norrie encouraged. “Please, fill me up! Claim me! Leave it all inside of me!”
He felt Mr. Jalor’s balls clench against his ass, felt him begin to pump his seed, spilling it deep inside, a blossom of sensation in his innermost passage. Norrie swallowed over and over against the sensation as his body was filled with the man’s lustful essence.
While they were both panting, Mr. Jalor still coming down from the high of his orgasm, Norrie hurriedly pulled up his pants, straightening his clothes and heading for the door in the hopes of escaping before the man came to his senses. He had only just reached the door handle, however, when a breathless voice entreated him from behind.
“Well now, if that’s what you’re offering, then I accept. You make it a point to visit me every day, and I’ll turn a blind eye to your little side business. Deal?”
Norrie swallowed. “Deal.”
And so his days and his body became a little fuller. In addition to his usual trades, Norrie made an excuse to visit Mr. Jalor every morning. He became well used to the taste of the man’s cock, the smell of his semen, the comfortable girth of him spreading his ass.
Uncle David was pleased to hear that he’d made friends in the building, that he had people he wanted to spend time with.
One month was drawing steadily towards two when Norrie woke up to realize that he hadn’t heard the sound of gunfire or explosions for several days in a row.
“It seems the turf war has wound its way down,” Mr. Jalor informed him later that morning as he casually fucked Norrie’s ass. “If it stays this quiet another couple days,” he said between thrusts, “then it looks like I’ll finally be able to lift the lockdown.” He slammed home particularly deep, enough to make Norrie feel like he was going to choke. “We’ll finally be able to go outside again. Just as well. I think everyone’s running low on supplies.”
He chuckled and reached underneath Norrie to tweak at the boy’s nipples. “Well, everyone except you, of course. I’m sure you’re set up like a little princeling. I hope the satisfaction of your greed was enough to make up for the sinful weight you’ve placed on your soul by debauching yourself in this way.” So saying, he once again climaxed in Norrie’s ass, pumping the boy full of seed.
Norrie didn’t reply, instead just waiting for the man to pull out and then re-dressing himself as usual. The news was a shining sun of hope in his brain, illuminating every dark corner. They could leave. Just a few more days and the lockdown might be lifted.
He almost didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to get his hopes up, in case it didn’t happen. But it was impossible not to feel the lightness in his chest, the giddy excitement.
He’d have to wait and see, but... soon. Perhaps soon.
Until then, he still had two more men to visit that day.