VENI. VIDI. VITTO. @vitto-kinney-blog - Tumblr Blog

Part Time | Self Para | 3 of 3

Eighteen Years Old. He could do whatever he wanted. Except drink. Legally anyway. He chose to finish off school since he only had a month left anyway. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do. With his diploma at least he’d have the option of going to college. Summer came and he kept receiving calls from universities that he just ignored. He was waiting for one call in particular, although he knew it would never come. That he would have to be the one to call her.

He didn’t have trouble with getting close to his clients. As long as he had a large amount of them around, he couldn’t start falling for any one of them. Although the housewife, the gang member, and the politician were the closest to him and had the potential to fall for him, Vitto always made sure they were distracted with something else. The housewife had her hands full with her son; the gang member always had to make sure he wasn’t being watched; the politician was married to his job.

Besides, all Vitto had to do was remember the two guys he’d previously fallen for. Three guys really, although he never counted the third because they never had a chance to explore any kind of romance with him. But once he thought of them, he knew he couldn’t let himself fall for someone again. Especially someone paying him for sex.

There came a time when the politician’s assistant walked in on the two of them making out. Vitto could tell the assistant didn’t approve but she said nothing except to tell her boss someone important was on the phone. Vitto had to suffer an uncomfortable silence with the assistant but the phone call was quick and the assistant was sent away a moment later.

Another time came as he was leaving the housewife’s house when he noticed a black car parked across the street. He didn’t call attention to it but kept walking. It looked almost like the one the politician used. However, he was almost positive it was the assistant who was following him. His suspicions were confirmed when he called the politician on his burner phone to meet up for lunch and he was picked up in a different car. The assistant wasn’t with him.

And then there was the time when he’d scheduled to meet with the gang member in one of their usual alley meeting places. Except when he got there, a different gang member, a hoodrat, met him with a gun pointed directly at him. He didn’t dare run. He didn’t dare move. He just spoke. “He told you I’d be here didn’t he?” That much was clear. He’d never seen this gang member before and Vitto looked as poor as he was. This hoodrat would have nothing to gain from killing Vitto. Unless his gang member had given him away.

The hoodrat nodded, still holding the gun up, but not shooting. What was he waiting for? “So why did he sell me out?” Vitto had thought he and his gang member had a great little thing going. Apparently not.

The hoorat looked confused and shrugged. “That’s what I want to know. I don’t even know how he knows you.” They were both quiet for a moment. Vitto processing what the hoodrat had said. Maybe his gang member was tired of him and figured this was the best way to keep him quiet. “So? How do you know him?”

As he had done many times before, he decided to tell the truth, while withholding the most important information. “I caught him beating up some kid so I got him in the head with a plank. I guess you can say I’ve kind of been his bitch since then.” It seemed to make sense to the hoodrat why the gang member would give him away so easily. But now it was Vitto’s turn to ask his question. “Why would he call a hit on me now though?”

The hoodrat shook his head. “It wasn’t him who called it. It was some old dude. Said you were fucking his wife so he wanted you gone.” And then everything started falling into place. The assistant, the husband, the hoodrat. The politician, the housewife, the gang member.

It was all a guess but he had enough evidence to support it. The assistant was following him and saw him come out of the housewife’s home. She must have done some research and figured the housewife was married. She probably found a way to tell the housewife’s husband and send him a picture of Vitto. With that picture he most likely hired the hoodrat to take him out. His gang member must have heard about the hit and taken the opportunity to sell him out. After all, his gang member could probably find another hooker to get off on easily.

“Okay,” Vitto finally answered. “So go ahead and do it.” The hoodrat looked confused and scared. As if he knew something was going to happen. Or like he felt he was missing something. And indeed he was. The politician had given him a number to dial in case of emergencies and during his free time, Vitto had practiced dialing it with his eyes closed. Or as was the case now, with his hand in his pocket.

The sound of sirens quickly surrounded the alley to Vitto’s relief. They were faster than he’d thought they would be. It had only been a minute. But he guessed they were pretty close by anyway. He wanted to run, but he was surrounded so he had nowhere to go. Cops came out of their vehicles armed, yelling at the hoodrat to lay down his weapon, which he did. He was arrested and Vitto was taken in for questioning.

It was his chance to get revenge. On the assistant, on the husband, on his gang member. But he said nothing. Even when the arresting officer told him that if he gave her any information on the hoodrat’s gang, she would let him go. He needed to protect his politician and his housewife. Even his gang member.

The officer had his fingerprints run and figured out his identity. Who he was, how old he was, who his parents were. Since he was no help, she sent him back to his parents, who were now living in Texas again. But before the plane from Seattle to Dallas departed, the officer gave him her card and told him, “When you’re eighteen, if you ever feel like joining the force, call me.”

Vitto was confused. He guessed she saw something in him he didn’t see. Besides, he’d be eighteen in two years and what were the chances she’s still have the same number or even still be living in the same place? Vitto told himself everything he could to convince himself never to call the woman. Yet, he kept the card.

His parents met him in Dallas. They were happy to see him but became strict with him, worried he would run away again. He promised them he wouldn’t, and to show them he meant it, he got a job. He’d only missed one semester of school, which he made up the next summer, so he was still able to graduate on time. But now he didn’t know what to do. He was stuck. Again.

#self para #well that was fun #i'm gonna say he spent six months in seattle #from early june to late november #so his parents had him by thanksgiving

Part Time | Self Para | 2 of 3

High School Graduate. He guessed it was more than some people could accomplish. But it wasn’t college or anything. He wasn’t even sure he even wanted to go to college. He’d only applied to in-state universities at the insistence of his parents. And he’d gotten into all of them. Major undecided. But it wasn’t as if he intended to go. Then again, he didn’t want to go back to his life in Seattle either.

Among his customers: a politician, a gang member, and a housewife. All dangerous, yet all sexually satisfying. Sometimes he liked to pretend the housewife was married to the politician and their son was the gang member but he knew that was a bit farfetched. Besides, they all had different last names, and different homes.

The politician wasn’t in office but was running for mayor. He was enough of a public figure to not want to officially date someone, although he was openly homosexual. They met one rainy night while Vitto was roaming the streets. He was drenched but not cold yet. It was around the time when the rain still excited him. When being approached by a dark car didn’t make him paranoid.

The politician asked him into the car with the excuse of not wanting him to freeze to death, and they headed to his home. Vitto had seen him on TV so he was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to kill him or anything, but he still kept his guard up. He made sure the bathroom door locked when he took a shower, and after, when he was sitting in the politician’s bedroom in a bathrobe, made sure there was a working phone in case he had to call the cops.

The man was nice enough and he didn’t try anything that night. Neither did Vitto. It wasn’t until the next time they met that Vitto even made a move. Vitto was reminded of a teacher at Waxler he’d also slept with. Strict, always in a suit, classy. But of course instead of having a boyfriend, he was married to his job. They only ever met at night and at most once a week.

One day Vitto woke up in one of the many alleys he liked to sleep in. He’d heard a noise. A cry for help, and for some reason jumped to the rescue. It was two built dudes picking on a smaller guy. He recognized the victim as another of his kind. Homeless hooker. He felt obligated to help then. He found a piece of wood and quietly but quickly approached them.

One hit to the back of the head had one of the dudes scurrying, but the other one wasn’t afraid. He took Vitto’s attacks and then took the piece of wood from him. The other kid had run off by that time so it was just the two of them. Vitto wasn’t afraid, but he looked around for an escape route. He doubted he was fast enough to outrun the guy.

His next best thought was his automatic response for any kind of distraction. A kiss. But he never got the chance to try. The guy cornered him and looked to make sure no one was around. It wasn’t until he was facing the wall with his pants down that he spoke up. “You don’t have to hold me up against the wall. I won’t resist.” The dude was taken aback and he stopped. He pulled Vitto’s pants back up and they spoke.

Apparently he was a gang member. The life suited him, but he was the only one in his group that wasn’t remotely interested in women. Vitto listened, glad he wasn’t raped and made plans to meet the dude again. The first time it was free, but after that, Vitto made him pay with whatever he had. Luckily, the guy’s gang liked to rob the rich and pawn for the poor, the poor being themselves. Either way, Vitto got his money.

With money, he was able to go shopping for food. He didn’t have anywhere to cook anything so he mostly bought canned food and cereal whenever he was sick of fast food. At the supermarket, he came across a lady having trouble with her child in the toy aisle. He looked about three. She looked about thirty-five. He was throwing a tantrum and she looked as if she wanted to throw one too.

Vitto thought quickly and blew his rape whistle hard enough to startle the kid. “Excuse me but if you don’t stop yelling and apologize to your mother right now, I’m going to have to take you in, little man.” He reached for some plastic handcuffs that were hanging on a rack to show that he was serious. The boy looked scared and ran to his mom. He didn’t apologize but at least he stopped crying. The woman mouthed a thanks and Vitto smiled at her.

They began meeting there constantly. Vitto had given up fast food completely just to see this woman and her child. They talked. She seemed lonely since her husband was always away on business. She felt like a single mom. Vitto brought her comfort enough to start hanging out outside the supermarket. At the park. Eventually at her home. Again, he made the first move. But he made sure there was a monetary transaction for his services.

He never explicitly blackmailed any of them but they understood the circumstances. He was still a minor and all three of them were already of age. Even without that, he still had grounds to make money off of them. But even with that money and his mouth shut, something always goes wrong.

#self para #headcanon: he bottoms for the politician and tops for the gangster #because the gangster discovered he likes bottoming better than topping

Part Time | Self Para | 1 of 3

In N Out. He guessed it could have been worse. He could have been working at McDonald’s or Wendy’s with mediocre burgers and dollar menu fries. And he was lucky that he was working at one of the few In N Outs in the state of Texas. Except he didn’t feel lucky. He felt stuck. A feeling he’d only felt twice before.

The first time was when he first left Texas. Back when he lived in Del Rio. It was boring and the only thing he appreciated was the $2 theater and the public library where he sometimes liked to read about alien conspiracy theories and search the web for online games.

Little by little Giselle had drawn him away from that and into the life of spies and conmen. Circling around people like vultures trying to listen in on secret conversations. Gaining the trust of people who probably weren’t even worth it. Giselle was worth it. But she wasn’t enough anymore.

He wanted to try it all on his own. And he failed miserably. California was a land of unrequited love and cheaters, yet instead of exploiting that, he was the one left standing feeling humiliated. And once again, stuck. So he left. This time without his parents. Without any help really.

Sneaking onto trains and buses, paying older men to pretend to be his father, and hitching rides with free blowjobs, he made it all the way to Seattle, Washington still with hundreds of dollars left to spare. He had fun exploring the city, singing in the rain, looking around for where the homeless teens were living, making friends with them.

It was spectacular at first. But then he let his guard down. There were people he couldn’t trust. People who were experts at conning. Experts at making you feel like it was your fault they stole your money. And that they did.

He’d been trying to ease into the job, but once his money was gone, he had to find a way to pay for food. He didn’t really need shelter. He was good to sleep anywhere. Sure, it got cold a lot, but he still had a pretty warm sweater that he never took his eyes off. Even when he was with a john.

Most of them were nice enough, but others were rough. Not patient enough to finger him or use lube before shoving their dicks inside of him. There were days where he had trouble walking. Had trouble shitting. Had trouble sitting.

Coincidentally a string of murders began happening within his little community. They were all girls, but it didn’t stop Vitto from being cautious. At the point where he felt he had enough regular clients, he stopped accepting new ones. That way he could build relationships with these men. And one woman. He could get in their heads. Convince them to give him more money. He even got one man to pay him $300 for a night. He felt like he was in control for once.

This is what his life was going to be like. No real home, no friends, fooling people into giving him money. It was his dream come true. Conman extraordinaire, with some sexual favors here and there. He finally felt like Vitto.

#self para #just to explain what he's been doing that past 2 years