Druid


Chapter 1



"Hey, Druid, trying to get rid of the wrinkles?" Angus asked in that supercilious way that pushed Brian's buttons.

"Shut the fuck up!" Brian who was known as Druid within the Quoin replied. "I'm trying to relax. I don't need you fucking babbling at me." Brian lay on his back, a protein masque covering his face. The masseur worked on his legs. He had spent an hour running on the beach below the castle and the massage felt great.

"You've got what, barely a month, before you turn thirty?" Angus pursued with a grin. The annoying Scotsman, who dressed as Rob Roy every night, was getting some unwanted body hair removed in the large spa at the Quoin.

Brian was about to tell him to fuck off when he decided instead to ignore his fellow worker. Angus had red hair and a somewhat burly physique. Some of the customers at the Quoin liked that type of brute strength. Angus could hardly wait for Brian to be forced out and then he could assume the role of the ultimate "top" at the high class brothel. Brian knew Angus was trying to rattle him. He decided that wasn't going to happen. Nobody got to him. He was still the master of his domain, at least for the next month.

"Those masques can only do so much," Angus continued. "When you get to be your age the wrinkles just keep coming."

Brian felt his blood pressure going up. He wanted to punch Angus in his smug twenty-two year old face. But what would that accomplish? Angus was cocky, just like … he used to be. Angus was young, they were all so young. When did he get to be the old one? Brian sighed making it as inaudible as he could. Just shut up, Brian willed the other man.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do when you have to stop tricking here?" Angus asked knowing he was rubbing Brian the wrong way. "You could always be the towel boy here at the spa. I bet you could handle that, couldn't you, Druid?"

Brian seethed. The number one rule at the Quoin was that nobody over thirty could be one of the boys. Somehow at age thirty you stopped being a "boy". Quinn, the owner of the Quoin, had made that very clear to all of them. He prided himself on running the best gay brothel in the world. Everything was first class and elegant, including the boys who worked there. They were all quite beautiful, young, well trained, and courteous to the customers. Quinn wouldn't stand for dissatisfied customers. There would be hell to pay if a customer was unhappy, so the boys made sure that never happened. Quinn felt that his customers were paying for young, energetic, enthusiastic cock, so he had made the rule about no one over thirty. Brian couldn't believe that he was fast approaching that not so magical number.

He closed his eyes and thought back over the … seventeen, yes, over seventeen years he had spent at the Quoin. He had only been twelve when he arrived at the brothel. Quinn had brought him there. The man had taken pity on the scared boy he had found battered and bruised outside of a pub in Dublin.

Brian thought back to that night. He had gone to the pub on his mother's instructions. She wanted her husband, Jack, to come back to his father's house where they were staying. They had gone to Ireland for the funeral of Jack's father, his grandfather. His father drank way too much at the wake. Then he and a bunch of other men in the family had headed down to one of the pubs. Brian's mother, Joan, had pleaded with him not to go but he merely said he would be gone for a few hours and to shut her fucking mouth. Joan had cried and prayed and yelled at the children. Brian and Claire had slunk away trying to be inconspicuous.

Finally Joan had told Brian to go to the pub and bring his father home. Brian had no idea how he could do that, but he set out to follow his mother's instructions. When he had arrived at the pub, he had gotten someone to tell his father that he was there. He waited outside. His father had stormed out to find him. Jack had screamed drunkenly at him about how his fucking family never gave him a minute's peace. Then, as often had happened before, Jack's right hand connected with the side of Brian's face. Brian stood his ground which made Jack madder. The open hand became a fist. When Brian tried to explain that Joan needed him to come back to the house, he hit his son harder than ever. Finally he threw Brian against the brick wall of the pub and stomped back inside.

Brian had crumpled to the sidewalk scraped, beaten and dazed. That was when Quinn O'Donnell had walked into his life. The man had stopped and tried to help Brian up, but Brian had told him to go away and leave him alone. He had moaned in pain as Quinn tried again to help him up. At that point Quinn had knelt down beside him and taken the frightened boy in his arms. Brian had stiffened at Quinn's hold on him, half expecting to be dragged away and beaten some more by this tall stranger.

Instead Quinn had merely held him, gently rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort. After a bit Brian began to relax and then he started to cry. Nobody ever gave him comfort, nobody held him like this, nobody cared if he lived or died. He didn't know how long Quinn had stayed with him, holding him outside the pub. His father never came back out to see what had happened to his son.

Finally Quinn got him to stand up and he looked at the battered face of the boy. He could see the beauty that was there under the bloody nose, the blackening eye and the tear tracks.

"Let me take you home," Quinn had said.

"I don't have a home," Brian had said defiantly.

"But where are your parents?"

"Dead." And as far as Brian was concerned they were. He was never going back to suffer more abuse from his father. He never wanted to see his selfish and uncaring mother again.

"Dead? But how do you live, survive?"

"I can look after myself," Brian had said with as much bravado as he could muster.

"You don't look like you did a very good job of that tonight."

Brian didn't know how to answer that. "I gotta go," he said instead and turned to leave.

"Wait. Come with me and I'll see that you have a safe place to sleep tonight. I don't want you to be alone on the streets."

"I don't need your help," Brian had told him.

"Maybe not, but let me look out for you tonight."

Brian was rather scared at being out on his own, but he knew he could never go back to his so-called family. "Okay, but just for tonight."

Quinn had taken him to his hotel room and cleaned up his bloody nose and scrapes. Brian had slept on the floor on some extra blankets. He tossed and turned all night. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew Jack and Joan Kinney had seen the last of him. He wasn't going to be anybody's punching bag from now on.

The next morning Quinn had introduced himself more formally, and bought Brian breakfast. Brian liked sitting in the hotel restaurant and eating with this elegant looking man. He wondered if he could grow up to be just like him some day.

Quinn told Brian he was leaving to go to the castle he had recently bought near Blarney. Brian, on impulse, asked if he could go with him. Quinn had tried to get Brian to tell him about any family that he might have, anyone that could look after him. Brian refused to admit that he had any family. He said his parents had come to Ireland from the U.S. a year ago and then they had died in a car crash. Nobody wanted him and he had run away from child services, refusing to be put in foster homes. Whether Quinn believed the story or not, Brian never knew. He did finally agree to take Brian with him and that was all Brian cared about. He vowed to be just like Quinn when he grew up.

Quinn had driven them to Blarney and then on to the castle. It had been newly renovated and Brian was awed by the luxurious surroundings. Everything seemed to be first class and when Brian said that, Quinn had smiled at him and told him that was the only way to do things. That had been Brian's credo ever since.

Brian wanted to know if he could work at the castle. He said he'd do anything Quinn requested of him. He just wanted to stay. Brian failed to note the strange smile on Quinn's face when he requested this. It was a few days before Brian figured out the real purpose of the castle.

Quinn made Brian the gopher, running requested items up to the suites or carrying trays of food or other exotic items to serve to the guests. He watched unobtrusively the comings and goings of elegant men, some even more elegant than Quinn. He sometimes managed to see what went on in the suites. He'd drop off his tray and pretend to leave. He'd hide and watch what the guests did to the boys who worked at the Quoin, or what the boys did to their clients.

"Hey, Druid," Angus brought Brian back to reality. "That masque probably needs three or four more hours before it makes any difference on that ancient face of yours."

"Fuck off!" Brian yelled at him as the Scotsman left the spa. Angus laughed as he passed by, but Brian realized the truth of his words. He was using the masques more often and for longer periods of time. But nothing could stop the ravages of time. The little crows-feet were still around his eyes and his skin just wasn't as fresh looking as it used to be.

Brian lay back down. He'd leave the masque a little longer. Maybe it would help. Wishful thinking, his brain told him. He tried not to frown. That defeated the purpose of the masque. He closed his eyes pushing away Angus' words and the inevitability of turning thirty.

Brian's mind ran back to the day he had told Quinn he wanted to be one of the boys. Quinn had just about blown a gasket. Brian had been at the Quoin for over a year at that point. He would soon be fourteen. He had spent a lot of time then jerking off and waking from wet dreams that left him panting and wanting more. He knew he was gay quite a long time before, but he never had any real concept of what that meant until he came to the Quoin and saw the boys at work. He had approached a couple of them over the last few months wanting to see if they would do to him some of the things that he saw them do to the clients.

The boys had told him in no uncertain terms that he was a baby, Quinn's baby, and they wouldn't dare touch him. Brian had cried himself to sleep after these episodes feeling ugly and unwanted. Jerking off just wasn't getting him what he needed. He needed to experience real sex with a man. He had decided to talk to Quinn who had treated him like a son all this time. Maybe Quinn would tell one of the boys to do what he wanted.

Brian remembered how scared and awkward he had been trying to explain to Quinn what he needed. Quinn had been livid that Brian had been watching the boys and their clients. He was told he was never to do that again.

"Then I need to do those things myself," Brian had pleaded. "Nobody will help me."

Quinn had laughed then and Brian had been furious. "Fuck you! You keep me locked up in this fucking castle. I can't do anything. I have no life," Brian yelled.

"You're free to go anytime you want, Brian," Quinn had told him.

Quinn had made it clear from the outset that Brian was only there because he wanted to be. He could leave if he wished. Quinn had tried to get Brian to go to school but the boy had steadfastly refused saying that he would read and study and learn on his own. He was secretly afraid that if he went to school somebody would discover that he had run away and send him back to his parents. He told Quinn that he was afraid of bullies like the one who had beat him up that night Quinn had found him in Dublin. That was kind of the truth, only he didn't tell who the bully was.

Brian tried to explain what he wanted again. "I don't want to leave. I just … I just … need … someone to … oh, I don't know."

"I do," Quinn had finally admitted. "You're almost fourteen and you're horny. You need to get laid."

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Brian cried in exasperation.

"But how do you know that you want to do it with a boy? How do you know you're gay?" Quinn asked.

"I … I don't know what you mean. I just want to do what the other boys do."

"What about doing that with a girl?"

"I … I don't think so," Brian said making a face. "Ew," he added with a shudder.

Quinn had looked at him thoughtfully. This was part of the reason he had wanted Brian to go to school, to be with other young people of both sexes and to see what the outside world had to offer. When Brian had refused, Quinn had provided him with books and had set up a home schooling program, later getting him a computer and seeing that he got hooked up to educational sites at various institutions where he could get an equivalency diploma and maybe a college degree, although after high school Quinn had left him pretty much on his own about whether he studied or not.

That same day Quinn had arranged for Brian to meet the daughter of one of his friends. She was a year older than Brian. Quinn felt that she would give Brian the chance to see if he was attracted to girls. She was quite a beautiful young lady named Patricia. She and Brian had become friends that first day, commiserating with each other about the ridiculous plans of their "parents" to put them together. Brian knew immediately that he liked Patricia, or Pats as he took to calling her, but he didn't like her in the way that the boys at the Quoin made him feel.

Brian reported his feelings to Quinn who sighed in frustration. He still wasn't sure that Brian hadn't been tainted by the life he was living and might one day realize that he wasn't gay at all. Brian had begged for Quinn to let him be with one of the boys, preferably Tomas who was older, Portuguese, and endowed with sultry good looks and a large cock. Quinn had refused, saying Brian was too young. Brian had threatened to hitchhike into nearby Cork and find someone on the streets. They had finally agreed after much arguing that Brian could have Tomas for his fourteenth birthday. That seemed like forever to Brian, but it was really only two weeks away.

"Time to get this masque off of you before it becomes permanently affixed to your face," Emile the head of the spa staff told him. Brian got up and allowed the masque to be peeled off. He ran his hands over his face feeling the fresh new skin that was revealed. He would look sensational tonight. "Are we done for today?" Emile asked. "Or do you want some time in the sauna. That would be good for your skin."

"Sauna," Brian said. He loved the heat and steam and it would give him more time to think.

Brian settled onto the wooden shelf in the sauna and stretched his legs out in front of him. He wrapped a towel around his neck and leaned his head back closing his eyes. He allowed his mind to continue with the brief history of one Brian Kinney, runaway, student, fag, whore.

That night with Tomas had opened his eyes to things he had never imagined. They had done everything, fucking, sucking, rimming, kissing. Brian had been a quick and voracious student. He wanted to experience it all and Tomas had done his best to oblige. At first he had been gentle, starting with the fine art of kissing. Then he had brought Brian to his first orgasm caused be something other than his own right hand. The fine points of oral sex had been demonstrated along the way. Next he had rimmed Brian and sucked on his balls. The boy had whimpered and pleaded and screamed for more. Tomas had told him about anal penetration, how it would hurt but he would learn to love it. Brian wanted it all so he had submitted to a man for the first and last time. It was the one thing he didn't enjoy that night. Tomas had certainly got his rocks off taking the young Brian's virginity, but Brian had decided then and there that he was the top. He would be the one getting his rocks off. He would be in control.

When Tomas was finished and sucking in post orgasmic air, Brian had felt used and he didn't like that feeling. He told Tomas that he wanted to do that to him. Tomas had been surprised and a little unsure about letting the boy go that far so soon. Tomas bottomed for clients who wanted him to, so this was nothing new. However, he was quite unprepared for the ride this boy gave him. Usually someone so young would be finished in no time flat, not having enough self control to last much beyond the initial penetration. But Brian wasn't most men. He rode Tomas until sweat dripped off each of them. When he finally climaxed Brian grinned from ear to ear and Tomas took a deep breath and looked at the power top he had just helped to create.

Brian was never sexually with Tomas again, but they had always been friendly. If Brian had questions about anything sexual he went to Tomas. He was much easier to talk to than Quinn who surprisingly got rather uptight when his surrogate son brought up those topics with him.

About three years later when Brian was seventeen Tomas had turned thirty and had to leave the Quoin. Tomas didn't really want to go and Brian knew he was losing his only real friend and mentor at the Quoin. Tomas had taken him aside and told him some facts of life before he left. He told Brian to save at least half of everything he made because he would need it for when he turned thirty. Tomas had managed to save enough to go back to Portugal, buy a small business there and start the rest of his life. He told Brian to make sure he finished his education and planned for his future. Nobody else was going to do it for him. Brian had taken some of his advice. But he wasn't as fortunate as Tomas. He didn't have Portugal to go back to. There was nothing in the United States to draw him back. He hoped his parents were dead. They probably thought he was, as if they would care one way or the other.

Brian threw some more water on the coals and breathed deeply. He should get out, but maybe a few more minutes would refresh his skin even more. He leaned back against the wall.

Shortly after his initial sexual experience with Tomas, Brian approached Quinn about working as one of the boys at the Quoin. The man had told him definitely not. He wanted Brian to grow up as normally as possible. He didn't have to trick like the other boys at the Quoin. He could work and stay there, but he didn't have to sell himself.

Brian didn't see it that way at all. He knew he had a huge sexual appetite. The night with Tomas had initiated him into practices that he wanted more of. Apparently it was common knowledge that he had spent that night with Tomas. Several of the other boys decided they'd like to show Quinn's boy a few things too. One by one Brian had a night with each of them. He learned something new each time. He refused to let any of them top him, but he made sure that they had the pleasure of his nine inch cock up their asses. It had only taken him a little over a week to work his way through all the boys, one night each.

When he had used them all, he had gone to Quinn and requested a place as a boy in the Quoin. He bluntly told the man that he had used all the boys that were there and he wanted fresh meat. Quinn could hardly believe his ears. He had tried to raise the boy properly. Brian wanted to have clients, and make tons of money, have a new trick every night and practise all the things he had learned.

Reluctantly Quinn agreed. He thought of Brian as the son he had never had. He knew the boy was smart and had hoped for better things for him. However, if this was what he wanted, he would grant his wish.

Brian reveled in the knowledge that he was going to get his own clients. He could hardly wait. Quinn lectured him about how to behave with the clients and how he would have to submit to whatever they wanted. Brian, even at fourteen, knew he had some lines that no one was going to cross. He told Quinn in no uncertain terms that he was a top and would not let anyone make him bottom. The clients should know that ahead of time. Quinn was shocked at the audacity of this kid. Apparently he didn't know Brian half as well as he thought he did. Finally he agreed and that stipulation was made clear to any potential clients.

The first night that Brian was to sell himself Quinn had sent him to the spa to be cleaned and pampered and readied for his first client. Quinn had someone in mind that he thought would be gentle with Brian and help him break into this way of life more easily. Quinn had called this man, Brendan Reilly, one of his long standing clients and explained the situation. The man had become very excited about the prospect of fresh new meat and someone so young who declared himself a top. Brendan had been only too pleased to agree to Quinn's wish to come to the Quoin, see if Brian suited him and spend the night with the boy if he liked what he saw.

Each night at the Quoin the boys dressed in their costumes whatever they might be and paraded into the reception area. Unless they had been explicitly booked beforehand they lined up in front of the evening's clients and selections were made.

Brian wanted a costume like the other boys had. The costumes covered the gamut from historical periods to mythical gods to characters from famous movies. Quinn had suggested he dress in a toga like a young god from ancient Rome. Brian tried on the toga but decided it wasn't quite right. He requested that a hood be added and the sleeves lengthened. He wanted to cover his head until the boys lined up, and then he would reveal himself. He liked the mystery that would create. He was sure that would help to sell him to the customers. He had a flair for self promotion even back then.

Brian slowly stood inside the sauna and stretched luxuriously. He felt great, renewed, revitalized. Somebody was in for a treat tonight if they selected him. He was horny as hell.

He headed for the showers. As the warm water flowed over him washing away the sweat and the worries for a few minutes anyway, Brian thought about that first night as a hustler at the Quoin.

He had finally gotten the costume the way he wanted it. It was a long loose white robe with long sleeves and a hood that could completely cover his head and face. He tied the robe with what looked like a rope of spun silver at his waist. He was tall for his age and some would say skinny, but he had used the weights in the spa since he had first arrived at the Quoin. His muscles were taut and well defined. He wasn't all bulges and ripples like Angus. He was much more subtle in his masculinity, back then and now.

Brian had walked into the reception area that night quaking at the knees. His greatest fear was that no one would select him. He didn't know if he could take the humiliation of being left there while all the other boys were claimed and taken away to the suites. His heart pounded in his temples as the boys lined up. He thought he might throw up. That would make a good impression on the customers. That made him smile.

At that moment the line stopped and they turned to face the customers. Brian threw back his hood with that enigmatic smile on his face somewhere between nausea and hysteria. There was a gasp as the clientele got a look at the beautiful face of Brian Kinney. Brian would remember that moment as long as he lived. He heard whispers of "the one who looks like a priest", "the Druid". And that was how he had got his nickname. From that moment on he became Druid. That was how he was known and that was who his clients asked for. He became known far and wide as the greatest power top in the country, in Europe, maybe the world.

Brian smiled to himself as he shut off the shower and started to towel off.

He had never looked back after that night. There were many evenings after that that he didn't have to line up with the other boys because he was booked solid for quite a while after the clients got a look at him that first night. And he lived up to his reputation and beyond. His clients were always satisfied if not downright exhausted by the time they left his bed.

Brian grinned like the predator he was. He wasn't booked for tonight and he hoped whoever chose him was ready for a wild ride, because that was what they were going to get.

Brendan Reilly had claimed him that first night. Brendan told him later that Quinn had arranged it all, but Brian didn't care. Brendan had gotten more than he bargained for. He had tried to be sweet and gentle with the neophyte hustler, but Brian didn't do sweet or gentle. Within minutes he had his dick up Brendan's ass and the man begging for more. The next morning Brendan could hardly walk when he got ready to leave. He kissed Brian heartily and promised he would be back for another round in a week or two. Brian had intended to do a client only once so this made matters difficult. He later found out that he was booked up for weeks so he wouldn't be able to see Brendan again for quite awhile. At the same time he found out that Brendan had left him a tip of a thousand pounds deposited to his account at the Quoin. That made Brian rethink his policy of one time only. Maybe clients like Brendan would be a good thing if they left tips like that every time.

Brian put on his clothes and headed to his apartment. He was glad he didn't have to share this space with another boy like the rest of the hustlers did. It was his space and he had complete privacy there. No one ever got in, not even Quinn.

The only other person to have seen the inside of Brian's home was Maggie, the cleaning lady. Maggie had red hair and a wicked sense of humor. Brian liked her a lot and they often talked while she cleaned. He wished his own mother could have been like Maggie.

When Brian opened the door of his small apartment he saw Maggie working away at dusting the furniture. She turned immediately and smiled at him.

"Top o' the morning to you, Brian," she said with genuine affection. "Make that top o' the afternoon. I'm running a bit late today."

"Hi, Maggie," Brian responded. "How come you're still here?"

Maggie worked each morning and did two rooms a day. She would usually be gone by now.

"That Rob Roy is such a pig. It took me hours to find the floor under all his clothes and crap. Pardon my French," she said with a giggle.

"Is it really that bad?" Maggie nodded. "I don't know how Gladiator puts up with it."

"Gladiator is a neat freak so he usually keeps the common areas tidy, and his room is spotless. It was Angus' bedroom that took me so long." She reverted to his real name even though they always referred to each other by their chosen Quoin names.

"Sorry to hear that. You work way too hard as it is. You shouldn't have to pick up after that bastard, Angus."

"Ah, Brian me lad, you're kind to say so, but it's all part of the job."

"Maggie, you know I'm going to be leaving here soon," Brian said suddenly.

"Yes, dear. I hope you've prepared yourself and saved some money."

"Yes, mother," Brian replied and Maggie beamed at him. She loved it when Brian teasingly called her mother. "The next time you come will probably be the last time I see you."

"Oh my, that's a sad thought."

"Yes, it is. This is really the only home I've ever had."

"So what are you going to do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't know. Quinn has said I can take on some managerial stuff for him. You know I run things when he's away. But that just wouldn't be the same as working here like I do now. I'm not sure I want to stay on in that capacity." Brian looked thoughtful and sad.

"Do you have some other options?" Maggie asked as she wiped off the counters in the small kitchen and rinsed the cloth.

"I've checked out some possibilities, but it's kind of scary starting something new at this point in my life."

"Try it when you're my age," Maggie stated.

"What do you mean?"

"My husband is retiring in a couple of months. He gets a nice bonus and we've been looking at buying a pub near where we live. You may be looking at the new landlady of The Fiddle and Firkin."

"What the hell's a firkin anyway?" Brian said with a chuckle.

"A small keg," Maggie explained. "Anyway I won't be working here much longer after you leave. We can set out on our new adventures together."

"That's kind of a comforting thought," Brian said with a little frown.

Maggie slammed the door of the cupboard as she had put everything away. "All done for today, and don't you be looking all glum. You'll do fine in the big, bad world. You're the smartest young man I know. Remember that and make me proud."

"Thanks, Mom," Brian said with a shy grin. "I needed that pep talk."

"You'll be fine, Brian. I know it," she said running her hand down his cheek.

He reached up and pulled her into a warm hug. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, sweet thing, but there's nothing to say that you can't stay in touch, maybe become a regular at The Fiddle and Firkin."

"I'll remember that," Brian said and released her.

"Will I see you the next time I'm here, if it's the last?" she asked a little tear in the corner of her eye.

"You better believe it," Brian said firmly.

"Good, until then," she grinned and the door closed behind her.

Brian went over to his computer. He had replaced the one Quinn had first bought for him many times over. He logged on and went to his usual site. He had to check a few things and then make some hard decisions.