Escort, Rent Boy, you can call it what you want but a young guy in London who has little to offer except his good looks and his body has to make a living somehow.
So, my friends I thought you’d like to hear one of my stories.
My Thursday regular client was a tubby little business man; you know the type, pin striped suit and briefcase, middle aged and married.
There was a hook in his bedroom ceiling where I suppose there used to hang a chandelier, so I strung a rope through the hook and tied it around his ankles. Then I handcuffed him and gagged him so he couldn’t shout and he couldn’t really move. When he was duly strung up and helpless with a bit of effort I hauled him upside down to about two feet off the ground before I finally pulled a pair of his wife’s knickers over his head for him to sniff at.
As per his instructions I was ordered to leave him there for an hour before returning to let him down. Voila! The easiest three hundred quid I ever earned.
On this particular Thursday I decided to be a bit of an artist so, with the help of some face cream from his wife’s dresser, I shoved a carrot up his arse so that only the green carrot leaves were waving in the breeze, so to speak.
Murphy’s used up hole
Returning from the local pub at the prescribed time to let him down and pick up my money, I arrived at his flat door just in time to see his wife, hands laden with shopping, climbing the stairs just ahead of me.
I’d have liked to have been a fly on the wall when he had to explain his way out of that one!
I might have lost a client, but Hey, in my business you’ve got to have a fucking laugh sometimes!
Love and peace,
HAZE
