- Standard disclaimers apply. This story is mostly fiction although certain locations in the story do exist. As far as my knowledge there is no * brothel up Addington Road and any resemblance of characters to people living or dead is purely coincidental. This is the start of a novel so * please don't get upset by the shortness of the section, more will come shortly. * * This story deals with some sensitive issues that could be considered unpleasant. Please don't consider the story about just a male * prostitute, it is about his character as a whole and is more powerful than just j/o material. The following chapters will explain it in more detail. * * If you wish to contact me then either email me at joe@arnia.demon.co.uk or ICQ me at #10446635. I would appreciate constructive critisism * of the story. Flames will be ignored. * * Thanks go to Cold Mouse (my editor), Birgir, Rob, Dash and of course Maria as my sister and one of my closest friends. * * The author, Joseph Geldart, asserts his right to be identified as the author of this novel according to sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright * Designs and Patents act 1988.
"What we seek is often what we least need" -- Grex Arnia
Bitter Poisons ------------------- Chapter 1 --------------
The roll of thunder echoed off the many buildings that made up London. Violent rain lashed down from above and caused rivulets of water to run down the street. The haunting feeling that filled the streets was crisp and vivid to feel. The air seemed to twang with expectation as a lone figure ran down the cold streets towards a source of warmth such that the feeble light from the door offered. His shoes made a clip clap sound as they sploshed through the dirty streams of filth that flew through the gutter and overflowed into great puddles. Silently watching him from the first floor window, Jack smiled thin lipped and dark eyed as he turned away and shouted last minute instructions. Walking over to the old MDF and oak veneered worktop that passed for his desk he waited, leaning back in his torn and defaced, green, foam padded office chair. Settling slowly into the pliable material he tried various postures to exude an air of nonchalance and carefree spirit. His Armarni suit got caught under him a few times adding unnecessary creases to his immaculate image. Cursing softly under his breath he got into pose again.
A bare minute later the sound he was waiting for, of wet shoes up a splitting pine staircase, came close and loud as the man trudged his way into the comparative warmth of the reception area of the brothel. Removing his dark macintosh coat, the man shivered slightly as he adjusted to the temperature of the slightly overheated room. "Hello Mr. Wood, its good to see you again." Jack gave another thin lipped and thin valued smile as a boy collected the macintosh and hung it in the cloakroom. "Likewise," Mr. Wood replied looking with interest at the boy moving through the room. "Will it be the same as usual?" Jack smarmed trying to show appreciation for his customer's choices. "No, not tonight... do you have a something of about 16 to 21?" Mr. Wood's excitement was becoming palpable. "We do have someone of 17 that I don't believe you have tried before," Jack paused to pick up the battered red book simply marked on the spine on a white label that read 'Stock list', "Ah yes! A boy by the name of James. Bit short and slightly stocky but he gives as good as he gets." Jack gave another thin lipped smile and whispered a hurried instruction to one of the attendant boys walking around. The boy simply nodded and walked over to the man and escorted him down a corridor in the badly maintained building. Sighing gently to himself, Jack sat down by the window and looked out into the street waiting for the next 'client' to arrive.
James looked dubiously at the foul smelling object that was currently just under his nose. Everytime it took a few beats to luck up the courage and swallow but he always did, his livelihood depended on it. Taking a deep breath he arched his neck slightly and went down tasting the pungent salty, fishy odour on the back of his throat. Moving his head slightly he felt the badly washed penis pop past his gag reflex allowing him to breathe slightly easier. This manoeuvre was obviously appreciated by the naked form of Mr. Wood who was standing with his back arched and his mouth open in a mute scream of animal lust and pleasure. "Oooooooh fuck!" Mr. Wood intoned at last in a strained voice. James just mumbled something undecipherable and started bobbing his head up and down. "Yeah! More, God more!" Mr. Wood gripped hold of James medium hair and started thrusting into him. James gagged slightly at first but then resigned himself to get used to it and continued the job knowing from experience that it wouldn't be long until it was over. "Unnngggg! Oooohhhh YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAH!" Mr. Wood strained and screeched as his penis exploded and pumped into James' mouth. James, for his part, kept swallowing and tried to ignore the inevitable feeling of dirtiness that threatened to overcome him in waves. "Good boy, well done." Mr. Wood zipped up his trousers and buttoned his shirt before leaving into the dark corridor letting the door bang to with a thud. James sat down on the bed and sobbed bitterly.
Jack heard the bang of the door and just had enough time to get back into pose. "God, now that was a good'un" Mr. Wood enthused in post orgasmic bliss. "I am so glad to hear it," another thin lipped smile, "Would you want him again any time soon?" "Yeah! Now I should be coming in again in 2 weeks... here is my payment, a hundred fifty for tonight and a 20 tip for the lad?" "Certainly sir! I will keep your name in the book ready." Jack gestured to one of the attendants and then started to steer Mr. Wood out towards the pine stairs. The attendant handed Jack the dripping, stained macintosh and grimacing slightly he draped it over Mr. Wood's shoulders. "Thank you! I will be returning soon enough!" Mr. Wood bounced down the stairs happily and they creaked and groaned in return. Jack sighed slightly and went to check on his stock.
Jack found James curled up on his bed with the sodium orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the dirty, filmy casement window. The sounds of gentle sobbing, dry tears and a lonely heart stabbed the musty air. "He's gone," Jack said simply from the door vailed in shadow. James didn't stop crying. Jack thought for a second, taking a long drag on his self-rolled cigarette as he did. "I have the money you earned from the client here. £60 if you get cleaned up and dressed." That caused James to at least stop crying although his speech came in heaves, "Are there any other men tonight?" "No... no, that was the only one but you are on again tomorrow." "Ok... give me a few moments to get ready and put the money on the dresser," James waved vaguely towards the Formica table over by the corner farthest from the patch of damp that was turning the sick yellow and sixties flowery wallpaper a dirty brown and leading to large patches to peel. "Ok, I will see you in the common room in about 15 minutes," Jack turned to leave and left with his usual casual business like demeanour in place once again. James just sat down and started to put some clothes on, sobbing once or twice for good measure, and steeled himself for the insults of the boys upstairs in the common room of the uncommon people.
Outside a flash of lightning lit up the sky briefly and revealed a very wet man in a stained macintosh raincoat huddled in himself running down the street and into a tube station to be taken back to a life in the suburbs and away from the decay of this part of London. After the thunderous echoes died away, all that was left was the rain falling heavily down Addington Road, Bow and the sound of Bow Bells striking the hour.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- Thank you for reading this part. Please be patient with me, I am trying to sketch an outline of the main characters before I introduce the plot. As usual comments are welcomed at joe@arnia.demon.co.uk but flames are ignored. Please visit 'my' site at www.longdark.co.uk