Not suitable for under 18's Gift to Nifty if you can ********************* Look I won't be around for a couple of weeks but Jay is on Friday. He'll message you if that's cool?"
"Oh sure umm I think that's cool?" and I drank more coffee. **********************
Part 16: Jay's Bitch - T&Cs
Jeff's now regular I'm not going to be around' was frustrating. He never said why, just that he wasn't going to be around. I kind of was developing needs'. I needed to be fucked. I needed to suck cock and the fact Jeff disappeared just frustrated me. I had my dildo and my butt plug both of which were doing good business in my ass. What I wasn't so sure about was the idea of Jay seeing me on Friday. I could hear my sisters voice telling me not to do it. That this went beyond sensible and possibly a bit beyond even a bit freaky.
However, I wasn't finding excuses not to meet. I did at least know him a bit and I couldn't imagine he'd want to do much.
On Wednesday evening he sent me a text. "Dinner, Friday night, Trent Forest Hotel, I'll send a car for you, 5.30pm, smart casual". It was incredibly direct, totally no nonsense, not even checking if that was ok.
`Smart Casual' wasn't a style of dress I excelled at. Loose clothing, indie lad yes. Smart? No. But I had a big sister, thinking I was being taken on some romantic date swiftly sorted me into some black chinos, purple shirt and brown shoes. She worked in fashion so was able to borrow everything, apparently it was normal practice.
I put my leather jock on, just in case as well.
The Trent Forest Hotel is a five star hotel. Renowned for its stunning suites, two restaurants one of which has three Michelin stars. From where I lived it was around an hours drive away. It was the type of place my parents talked about going to one day for afternoon tea but could never quite afford.
On Friday afternoon I got a strange phone call "Hello, this is Mr Wilson's office, he just wanted to ensure you were still alright with dinner this evening?" I replied yes "Excellent, car will be at yours at 5.30pm, enjoy your evening".
With his surname I tried to solve something. Jay's very well spoken accent had puzzled me up to now I googled "Jay Wilson".
`Jay Wilson is our senior partner and leading attorney at corporate law here at Smith, Wilson and Anderson'
I didn't read anymore. The bio said everything and there he was in the picture.
Just before 5.30pm I nicked a few quick sprays of my big brothers Calvin Klein "Eternity" scent and stood near the front door.
At exactly 5.30pm a black Mercedes A-Class pulled up and a chauffeur got out. I went out and he opened the rear door. "Good evening Sir".
I tried to initiate conversation with him but he seemed both quiet and reluctant so the drive was very quiet. As we pulled up at the hotel he told me to wait and he'd open my door and to tell reception that I was here to see Mr Wilson.
It felt odd, having a car door opened again for me "enjoy your evening sir".
At the reception I was informed Mr Wilson was in the Sophia Suite and that I'd be escorted there. After what seemed like a totally strange experience I arrived. "This young gentleman is here for you Sir, the bell boy" said to Jay. Jay tipped him, handsomely by his reaction and invited me in.
The suite was huge. A large living area, two large bedrooms with massive beds, a bar, shit an actual bar?
I walked around it, "this is bigger than where I live" I said to Jay.
He smiled "I know it is a little ostentatious but in my world keeping clients happy sometimes costs" his smile wicked now. "It's where I think you can maybe help me this evening"
God I must have looked so dumb not truly realising what he was saying. "So why have you invited me?"
"I thought you'd enjoy a nice dinner and my client does have a `thing' for cute white lads, you might be able to help seal a deal for me!"
"Wwwhaa" my mouth fell open, realising that there was something very weird going on here.
"It's ok Sam, Jeff has explained. You're an absolutely stupid slut. You've blown me already so that's good. All you need to do is look nice, say dumb cute things occasionally and act like a cheap whore. It's a part you were born to play".
Everything, every fibre of my being told me run. Told me to say fuck off' but something totally snapped me. The trigger of being called stupid' seemed to pull me in. It seemed to want to make me do things.
"That's good, I thought you might protest a bit. I am selling you like a common street whore but then again it's all you're good for really, now you need to change. Follow me"
I followed Jay into one of the bedrooms. On the bed was an outfit. It consisted of exceptionally shiny pvc or rubber pair trousers in black, a black shirt with a Versace label, on the floor were some ankle high boots. The trousers took a while, they were so tight, everywhere. "Don't you worry Sam there's a zipper in the ass, you won't need to remove them"
With the shirt and boots on Jay came over holding something, a watch a seriously chunky gold Rolex, it couldn't be less me, "can't have my boy letting the side down" he said as he put it on.
He rubbed his hand over my ass "nice and tight, looks very good. Now here's the rules. You do as you're told. You eat and drink what you're told"
He stopped. There was nothing more to say clearly.
He checked his tie in the mirror. "Right let's go".
As we stepped into the hallway I felt so exposed. I was dressed like a total slut. There was no hiding it. It wasn't even like you could suggest I was someone's boyfriend. Against Jay's beautiful suit and tie I just looked like a totally nasty whore and I was buzzing at the feeling.
Jay looked me over in the elevator. He saw that I wasn't hunched or hiding. I looked confident, standing tall, shoulders rolled back, chest out. "Look at you owning the look" he said with a huge grin. "There's plenty of whores in a hotel like this so it's good to see you're not scared to be what you are. Now when we get to the lobby I want you to walk like slut, one foot in front of the other, role your hips wiggle that bum".
Walking across the marble lobby we saw another suited, middle aged black man. He had a short beard, was about 6'2". He held his hand up to Jay "good even Mr Anjou" said Jay "this is my friend Sam"
Mr Anjou took my right hand "please, call me Moses" he said holding my gaze. "What a delightful specimen Jay, delightful" his voice was also educated. A blend in accents of British and Nigerian. "Shall we have a drink?"
He pointed towards a cocktail bar in the corner of the lobby. We sat up at the bar "a beautiful specimen" Mr Anjou said again as I slipped to my stool.
The cocktails were ordered. I was told what I was having. A Martini was just ordered, then a second, then a third. I was pretty light headed by the time we made our way into the restaurant.
It was famous, had three Michelin stars and I was actually excited to try the food. We sat at a smallish circular table that allowed Jay to sit close to me on one side and Mr Anjou close on the other. That closeness meant both of then felt the inside of my thigh throughout the dinner, squeezing, exploring.
The menu was amazing. I drooled at the possibilities. As Mr Anjou and Jay ordered from the most expensive menu. I'd made my mind up, then just as it was my turn Jay intervened "a green salad for him please". The same was the case on wine "house white for him".
I sat and watched them eat their ways through a ten course tasting menu. When Mr Anjou went to the bathroom Jay said "when your salad arrives, just play with it, stupid bimbos like you don't eat".