He told me tales of being Nouri al-Maliki's rent boy and threatened me with punishment from Prime Minister al-Maliki himself. That only made me madder and made me beat him harder.
As I kicked him repeatedly, I realized that beating up gays was the best way for me not to feel so badly about being a 'puppy' myself.
While he lay bleeding and barely breathing, I went through his jacket for pocket change. Along with a few small bills, I found a postcard.
He swore it was a movie star from the United States that Nouri al-Maliki was obsessed with. An actor named Ramon Navarro. Supposedly Navarro was gay and Prime Minister al-Maliki has all of his films and screens them regularly, especially Ben-Hur, when having 'Boy Parties.'
That only made me angrier.
I think it is because no one has ever asked me to work security for such a party, let alone invited me to be a guest at one.
I kicked the young man a few kicks harder and thought about how he was probably no more than seven years younger and no more than sixty pounds lighter.
A scary thought crossed my mind: Had I aged myself out of gay beauty?
Was I undesirable?
Yes, I was in the closet but I would like to think that if I weren't, other men would find me attractive and desirable.
Looking down, I saw the young man had passed out from the beating. Unzipping my pants, I quickly pulled out my engorged member and tugged repeatedly until it exploded on the face of the puppy.
[This is a regular series. "Lt. Muthana Shaad's Gay Boy Chronicles" ran previously.]
