This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all message.
Jonathan 19 February 26th
Thursday 26th February was to be the day for bearding the lion in his den. Jonathan wore his best suit that had been especially purchased for his grandmother's funeral. It was dark, and with his white shirt and the tie of the Old Boys Association of his school he looked smart.
"Not just sexy, respectable for a change as well," was Malcolm's comment.
Jonathan had discussed repeatedly with Malcolm what he proposed to do.
They left the car in Stevenage, and caught the train to King's Cross. They made their way by the underground to the station nearest Bill's place.
It was three o'clock when Malcolm watched Jonathan go up the steps and disappear into the Plato Club.
It was a typical gentlemen's club. The carpets were thick, the furniture substantial, and there was a sense of wealth and comfort. Jonathan walked up to the reception desk, where a man in his thirties was stationed.
"Can I help you, Sir?" Jonathan later reckoned that it was his suit that had got him the `Sir'.
"I wish to see Bill Blackshaw, the proprietor."
"Have you an appointment?"
"I am afraid not: but I think he'll see me."
The man was slightly taken back at Jonathan's certainty about this. However smart the outward appearance, Jonathan still look to be in his teens, as he indeed was.
"He doesn't usually see casual callers."
"I think you'll find he'll see me," repeated Jonathan.
"What is your name?"
"Jonathan Pridham."
There was no flash of recognition on the man's face. "Would you like to take a seat, Sir, while I find out whether Mr Blackshaw is available to see you?"
Jonathan took a seat and watched as the man picked up a phone. He spoke briefly, then replaced the receiver and carried on doing some paper work.
It must have been a further ten minutes before another man, slightly older looking than the first came down the stairs, and, looking around, came over to Jonathan. "Jonathan Pridham?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Would you please come this way?" The man led the way upstairs, along a short corridor and into what was obviously his office. "Would you please take a seat. Mr Blackshaw will see you in a few minutes."
Jonathan sat down, while the man sat at his desk typing something into a computer. He kept looking at Jonathan, eyeing him with a mixture of interest and concern. It was nearly a further ten minutes before a buzzer sounded.
"Mr Blackshaw will see you now. Come with me."
Jonathan rose and followed the man through another door into a larger and well furnished office. There behind a large desk sat Bill.
Bill got to his feet. "Well, Jonathan, this is a surprise. I hope it is going to be a pleasant surprise."
"I think that'll be largely up to you, Bill."
"On the contrary, I think the ball is well and truly in your court."
The secretary was standing by the door and obviously wanted to see and hear what happened and yet was uncertain as to whether he should stay.
"It's all right, Archie. I don't think Jonathan is going to knife me or do anything violent."
As he went out of the door Bill turned to Jonathan. "But let us at least be civilised: sit down." There were two arm chairs, and Bill signified that Jonathan should sit in one; he sat in the other.
"What do you want, Jon?"
"Basically, I want the money you owe me, and the bits and pieces of mine that you ought to have, unless you've had them thrown out with the refuse."
Bill visibly seemed to relax. "I don't think there will be a problem with either of those two requests. It will take a little while to find your things and get them brought here. I hope you're not in a hurry."
"I came with my grandfather and arranged to meet him at four along the road."
Bill gave a slight smile, and looked at his watch. "I think it will be a little later than that when we are through." Bill sat thinking for a moment. "Do you both have mobiles on you?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Contact him, and tell him our business is going to take a little longer. Tell him to come into the club, and I'll ask reception to take care of him. Is that all right? Or do you think I'll kidnap him as well as you?"
Jonathan laughed. "No, I don't think even you'd try that one!"
"I know when I'm beaten."
While Jonathan phoned Malcolm, Bill started giving orders. First he pressed a button on his desk, and immediately Archie entered. "Will you bring in all Jonathan's papers, and also will you send for Jonathan's belongings. They are in a couple of boxes in the store room in the annexe."
Bill then phoned down to reception and told them about Malcolm coming in a few minutes, and that he was to be given any drink he requested, and also if he wanted tea or coffee he was to be given something to eat.
Bill looked at his watch again. "It's nearly four already, so let let's have a cup of tea and a bite. There are some questions I want to ask you, and I suspect there may be some things you'd like to know."
Archie came in with a file of papers. Bill looked over these, and handed the top sheet to Jonathan. It was a statement of his present financial position with Bill. According to this the total Jonathan had earned was £9435, though most of this had been invested. The actual up to date balance, apart from the investments, was £395.
"Do you agree with those figures? Your actual investments are probably today worth a little more or a little less, more likely the latter than the former with the present financial situation of the stock market. I will just give you those necessary papers, and make out a cheque for the balance, if that is all right with you."
"That looks about right to me."
The door opened and one of Bill's own special boys came in with a tray one which was a pot of tea, and the usual jug, cups and saucers, as well as a plate with tasty looking cakes on it.
"You be Mum, Jonathan, and then you will know I am not drugging you."
Jonathan laughed, "The thought hadn't crossed my mind!"
"Oh yeah?" Bill wrote something on the file and handed it back to Archie who left the room.
"Now, Jon, tell me, how did you get away?"
"I escaped through the rear entrance. Why? Did you think I'd made a dramatic escape over the roofs?"
"We didn't know, what happened?"
Jonathan told Bill the events of that Wednesday afternoon. How the door at the rear was unattended, and of the white truck which was unloading or loading something. He told Bill of the opportunity and how he ran off.
"But what of your promise, repeated several times not to do a runner?"
"My promises were always made at the farm, and referred to the farm, I never made a promise to you about here."
Bill sat for a moment thinking. "You're right. You crafty bugger!"
Jonathan smiled.
"But you had no money."
"I had a little, £20 from Old Roger, and £5 from that bastard Ginger. He was my last punter unfortunately."
"You don't like Ginger?"
"No, he's a hypocritical mean bastard. And he doesn't consider any of the boys who go with him. Do this, do that, and it he can cause some pain he likes it better. From what he says he's much the same with his wife."
"Are there many like him?"
"Fortunately not. He's the worst. At the other end of the spectrum are guys like Ron, and of course, dear Old Roger."
"As you may know, Ron was once one of the Boys so he knows what it is like to go with punters. Roger, - he is a real old English gentleman. Unfortunately men like him are getting few and far between."
"When did you discover I'd gone?"
"I gather it was well gone 9.00 when someone asked if they'd seen you. It was another hour before they started looking for you. I was rung at home about 11.00. I'd just gone to bed, with my two, one on each side. I had to get up and come back here. I was cursing you, I must say. We did another more thorough search, and then started trying to work out how and when. So you must have got away almost immediately after going with Ginger."
"It was very soon after. I'd just taken things down to the laundry."
Bill and Jonathan sat for a while just looking at each other.
"Thanks for not making a rumpus, Jon. You could have cut up rough."
"To be honest Bill, I thought about it. I thought I could get you for unlawful imprisonment."
"Why didn't you?"
"Several reasons. Many of the punters are high establishment figures, who would not like their names to come out in court. Also I didn't want the publicity and the press hounds salivating at my door, even though I might have made a mint. A court case would have dominated my life for a year or two, knowing the `law's delays'. I want to put these last few months behind me and get on with my life."
"University?"
"I'm not sure now. A further reason, was the Boys. They are my friends, I didn't want to put them through a process of court procedures. What would they have done? They are better off here than working as rent boys on the streets."
Bill nodded as Jonathan went through these arguments
Jonathan hesitated. "There's a further reason. Apart from the time in your cell, you've been pretty decent to me. I even enjoyed having your monster of a cock up my arse on that weekend on the farm." Jonathan grinned.
"I enjoyed having it there, a pity it was only once. Now let's see if Archie has a cheque and your papers ready." Bill pressed the buzzer and Archie entered, with a file containing all the papers.
"Read them through to make sure they're correct."
Jonathan sat and went through the papers. There was an envelope with his name on it.
"The cheque?"
Bill nodded.
Jonathan put it in his pocket.
"You can open it."
"I trust you Bill. I think I'd better be going and see what Gramps has been up to."
"There just has to be your signature on a receipt for the cheque and the papers."
Jonathan signed and stood up.
Bill got up. "You were very good at the job. Several of the patrons have asked for you over the last couple of weeks, I gather. If you ever want a vac-job you know where to come."
"Thanks, Bill."
"I've never made an offer of that before."
Bill opened the door, and escorted Jonathan along the corridor and down the stairs. They reached a place where they could see Malcolm sitting reading a magazine.
"Your grandfather?" asked Bill.
"Yes."
"He looks an older version of you."
"So everyone says."
"I'll say goodbye, I won't come down to the door, that might be embarassing."
Then, somewhat to Jonathan's surprise, Bill gave him a quick hug. "Hope all goes well for you."
Bill turned and went back up the stairs and Jonathan carried on down.
"Come on, Gramps, let's go home."
Jonathan gave Malcolm a brief resume? of what had happened.
"I think we should celebrate that the mission has been accomplished. Let's go somewhere for a drink, and then we'll go and have a decent meal."
It was not until they got back to Whitgest that Jonathan and Malcolm went through the file of papers.
"These all look in order to me," said Malcolm. "Your money has been invested very, very wisely. Your investments have made a little money in what has been a one of the most severe bear markets in years. I presume there was a stockbroker or two among the punters?"
"Yes, and well off ones too."
Then Jonathan remembered the cheque in his coat pocket. He got it out, slit open the envelope and pulled out the cheque. He looked at the cheque. "Wow".
Malcolm looked across with his eyebrows raised in enquiry.
Jonathan handed him the cheque, it was made out for one thousand pounds.
Malcolm rummaged among the papers. "You were expecting £395?"
"Bill is strange man, absolutely ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants; yet at times kind and generous."
"Conscience money?"
"Possibly, but more likely thanks for not making trouble. He even offered me a vac job."
Malcolm laughed. "Sitting downstairs waiting for you I thought about making out an application to join the club. If the Boys are all as sexy as you! My expenditure has dropped a lot because of what sadly happened last Easter time. [The death of Jonathan's Grandmother Janice] I could easily afford a visit once or twice a month. Do you think I should? I think I'd enjoy the facilities of membership, but I am not sure I could forgive Bill what he did to you."
Jonathan laughed. "That's entirely up to you, Gramps."
Jeffrey at jeffyrks@hotmail.com