Date: Wed, 3 Nov 1999 01:21:50 -0000
From: Joseph  Geldart <joe@arnia.demon.co.uk>
Subject: Bitter Poison 1

*  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.

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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