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I wish I could see Jack’s face!
As the limo departs I open a graffiti covered door, the sound of music blaring.
“Stairs down,” I advise Jack, snapping the leash and hearing more cat calls.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Last weekend female debauchery, this Saturday male.
Jack stands on a pedestal. In a large dank and dark cavern-like basement chamber, his naked form seems to light up the room, a spotlight above making his flesh gleam. Prostatic fluid oozes. And in having been paid $300 by a very effeminate man named ‘Pat’, I whisked away his pink hood and toga with much flare. Then, under many watchful eyes, released Jack from his cock cage. Cialis flowing, brimming with testosterone, two weeks of chastity, Jack’s penis headed straight upwards, on this occasion to the cheers of dozens of male voices. I can tell the restrictive neck collar, forcing high his head, abets his tumescence. His leash remains, tied high to a convenient hook.
I sit alone at a small bar, the bartender clad in leather, body piercings and tattoos. My gender has no appeal; I am alone, silently taking in the action.
Jack’s performance, probably the most apropos term, is before a sizable gathering of gay men, their attire gaudy, their behavior bawdy. Pat, mostly called Pattie by his friends, approaches as I begin to count the instances of fellatio, my pet’s exhibition serving as a lustful catalyst.
Pattie has pierced nipples and wears only tight leather shorts. Probably better described as leather panties.
“Ramrod would like to talk to you,” he lisps pointing to a large man in the corner, barely to be seen.
“Tell Ramrod I’m here and available to talk,” my aura of feminine control not to be besmirched in subordinating to a male request.
Pattie steps to the corner, hips effeminately swaying. My eyes follow and, in better adjusting to the dim light, note that a head is bobbing atop Ramrod’s lap.
Pattie returns. I find my ears are acclimating to his lisp.
“It’s not Ramrod, it’s actually his boy, Lips Louie. Lips wants me to say the words Kinder, Morganthau and Mack.”
Kinder, Morganthau and Mack! The law firm used by Jack’s mother... step mother!
“He’s says it needs to be private.”
The head arises from the lap of Ramrod and looks my way. Yes, though not immediately recognizable, no stuffy three piece suit, it is indeed an attorney, a most annoying attorney, with whom I had to deal concerning Jack’s trust.
Lips Louie, previously known to me as Louis J. Welkeyser III, Esq. stands. He is entirely naked but for a pink ribbon and bow encircling his neck, apparently a symbol for the offer of oral servitude at this club of deviance.
Louie, my new friend? points to a doorway at the far end of the room. Had I not known his name and where to instantly track him down, I would ignore. But discovering his secret life of sexual aberration, how can I resist a discussion?
/> “I’ll watch your boy for you,” Pattie kindly offers, just as is everyone else in the room.
I follow Lips Louie into a changing room, clothes hanging about, surprising vanilla suggesting that many members are in the closet... not this closet... concerning their sexual preferences.
“Welcome, Miss Kelly,” his tone surprisingly humble compared to that used in our brusque legal dealings.
“I must assume that Kinder, Morganthau and Mack is unaware of your weekend recreation,” I bluntly begin.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. No longer there, no longer in the legal profession. Seems sucking the cock of a judge in turn for a favorable ruling is outside the tenets of the bar.”
The light better in the changing room I note that Lips Louie wears make up. Whereas it’s not polite to stare, I cannot help glancing downward to also note a very limited male appendage. Lips Louie is well advised to hone his oral skills when pleasuring women as well.
“Hope all is well. I like your boy.”
I nod, sensing that Lips Louie means in the carnal sense... knowing full well that he means in the carnal sense.
“That trust working for you? Rather sparse. Mrs. Lipton certainly bargained hard... under the circumstances.”
Mrs. Lipton, being Jack’s step mother, widow and inheritor of vast wealth, now of Palm Beach.
“It’s parsimonious. And since Jack needs much care, I cannot work. So we live modestly and I put Jack on exhibition to earn a few extra dollars,” no point cloaking my needs.
