That day David pretended to do battle with Valerie, putting on a great flamboyant show of fury because of the irreparable damage she'd done him.
"You whoremongering little bitch, you cost me my job, do you know that?" He'd waited until he'd gotten her into bed, having quickly decided that nude punishment was by far the most effective.
"I fully accept your gratitude, David, but don't overdo it, it's embarrassing. After all, when Lincoln freed the slaves they didn't follow him all over the place tryin' to lick his ass to show their appreciation… Ouch! Stop biting down there… that's my place of business… you tryin' to close up my shop?"
Still trying to nurture his anger-but more excited by her with every lick-David slid up and lightly kissed her ever-ready mammaries… then graduated up her throat to her lips.
"All right, you win, Devil-Girl. I'm ready to do what you asked me… "His voice going husky and impassioned with this announcement.
"And what is that, pray?"
"Oh, don't sound so innocent, Val, you know what I mean."
"But I want you to say it, David! If you're ready to operate under your own power for the first time in your life, you've got to say the words…"
He laughed between soft kisses. "You make it sound like I'm being sworn in."
"Great, David, keep thinking like that, it sounds real earnest and sincere. And now, may I please hear your oath of office?"
"Well, I… I want to do what you said, want the kind of career you told me about, want my flesh to pay instead of decay."
"Marvelous, darling! But let's hear more. Commit yourself, Goddammit!"
"I want…" he swallowed. "Oh hell, I want to sell my cock and ass and mouth to the highest bidder."
"Wonderful… I'm hearing some real devotion in your voice at last. Now repeat after me: 'I will henceforth take it upon myself to please everyone, be it man, woman or child…' "
"Hold it! Back up a few words…"
"Now now, David, that's part of your swearing-in, dammit! You've got to cover all contingencies and say you're willing."
"All right, all right…" And he said it.
She rewarded him with herself for a damply pounding half hour, after which these two newlyweds in crime discussed more of their future footwork. "Oh David, I do hope you have an adventurous spirit, because you'll need it in this line of work. One of the prime requisites is that you must quickly learn to be attracted by what you used to consider revolting. For instance, you'll often find that the family that plays together will also want your services." She giggled reflectively here. "Only a few weeks ago I helped alleviate a charming couple in their mid-forties who brought their handsome twin sons along…"
David hoped she was kidding, but not wanting to sound gauche, he just said: "Wow, man…!"
"The father was desperate to have a strange, sexy woman watch while his teen-aged boys took turns penetrating his wife; I've never seen a man get so voyeuristically hot in my life! It was really a groove…"
David felt something new and abrasive churn inside of him, a feeling of raw nerves rubbing against each other, and he dimly realized he must be experiencing the first sexual arousal he'd ever known that had been inspired by revulsion. Ooh man, I'm gonna dip low… gonna scrape the bottoms and the dregs. And now the new thoughts and images pinwheeled through his mind: strangers wanting his body, to apply and usurp to their own ends, no matter how various or diverse. "Whew!.. Then I guess I'll have to be ready to fulfill every warped desire in the book."
"Right, doll, you have to be loose and unjudging and tolerant… and as long as they're buying, the keyword in your vocabulary must always be 'yes… yes!"
David began to think of his new life as an endless pleasure-cruise, wanting to hear more and more about it. "Tell me about the women-clients," he urged her. "They won't always be matronly messy old bags, will they?"
"Well, no, David, but you shouldn't be asking questions like that, because it proves that deep down you're already discriminating, which, in a way, is really like saying 'no' instead of 'yes'. And remember, if you're to become a commodity of public delight, you can't have any preferences, but must learn to give all to each…"
"Hmmm…" David mulled over these words of indoctrination, telling himself that, like any new job, it would take a bit of getting used to. "But honey, don't you think at first we should take advantage of what I already like… and… save whatever I have to cultivate a taste for until later? I mean, dammit… whatever I may learn to like in the future, I already know now that I like girls… because I've always majored in girls!"
"Oh David, David," she said with a sigh of disappointment. "After a bigoted little speech like that, I wonder if you're truly 'open' enough for this kind of career…"
"Oh I am, I am, Val!" David assured her, feeling the quick pangs of those who displease their superiors. "Tell me what to say and I'll say it! And I'll be as 'open' as a guy can get, honey… I promise you!"
She gazed at his eager blond-boy face, so touched by his earnest desire to make good that she crushed her lips against his full and trusting mouth for a long and expert kiss… thinking: oooh… how this mouth will blossom anew after I plunge it down its new descents and journeys. Then pulled away from him, her voice once more adopting its crisp tone of dominatrix-in-charge. "Now David, first of all you've got to remember one thing: A Good Whore Doesn't Specialize. Maybe you ought to type up that little slogan and keep it in your wallet, and refer to it before each engagement…"
"A Good Whore Doesn't Specialize," David repeated the credo. "I'll remember it, Val…"
"All right, then listen, darling: When you learn to fall in love with just being wanted (and I mean redly in love, David!) it won't make any difference who or what is doing the wanting, because, don't you see, baby, the desire will always be there, the most living contact of all, the spark of all creation, because desire is what you'll function on. To be hungered for, panted for, drooled over… Oh, it can be a very religious way to live, can make you most devout…"
God, she was persuasive, thought David; and somehow, the more he considered this rather unique philosophy, the more common sense it made. Just imagine, giving of oneself every waking hour, a whole life dedicated to pleasing others, no matter how unreasonable their demands might seem. Yes…! there was something terribly Christian about it… like living the life of a monk, in reverse, perhaps, but nonetheless dedicated. A sublime pattern, really, being constantly necessary to people while still remaining one's own master. And with the added comfort of cash to offset the usual post-orgasm depressions. "You know, it sounds like a guy would need a real strong personality to sustain such a flow of giving," he said. "And I guess he'd have to learn to like himself a lot, too… may even need a strong dash of narcissism in order to get as hot for himself as his clients are, just so they'll feel at home…"
"Yes, yes… that's wild, David… You're catching on! It stands to reason that if you teach yourself to love and idolize your body, you'll have something in common with everyone which touches it. That way none of them can repel you, because it's you whom they're finding so fantastically attractive and sensual; and since you couldn't agree with them more, you'll applaud their excellent taste and desperately want to share it with them. So you see how simple it can be, how wonderfully close to nature?"
David nodded fervently, increasingly excited by her words. She made it all sound so damned glowing. "Oh Christ, Valerie, this'll be a marriage made in heaven… I feel it!" He gathered her warm little body onto the stiff nakedness in his lap, happily cradling her as he incidentally impaled. "Oooh yeah!.. This is the kind of freedom I've always wanted…" swiveling her flared-out bottom until the fit was neat and steep… "not to be socially or domestically obligated to anyone, not to think or care about the future…"
"The future'll enter into it only while we're making out our deposit-slips at the bank… ooohhhh!.. David… Talk about your deposit-slips…!" And for awhile they said no more, the silence watching as they flexed new training muscles…
Later they dressed and had cocktails and some food. Then Valerie continued her crash-course, carefully familiarizing David with all the rudiments of bodily endeavor. She said in order to get him firmly launched, she planned to add his name to her present advertising layout. At this David looked dumbfounded. Hustling-by-computer had seemed crazy enough, but what kind of fantasy was this?
Remembering what a hot-house flower the boy had been until now, Valerie laughed and patiently tried to explain some new-wave business mechanics to him. She went to her bedroom and brought out a small, tabloid newspaper, handing it to him.
David gaped at the front-page-two full-bosomed young girls, totally naked. Then glared at the lurid black headlines which seemed to be announcing some sort of mass-rape picnic that was to take place on the following weekend. And good God, what a title for a newspaper!
"Oh honey, don't tell me you've never read The Gash Gazette" she said, watching as he glanced through it in awe. "Why, it's the biggest clearing-house for hot nuts this country has ever known. They print it across the Bay, a kind of Sexual Liberty Bible, and, like the computer-dating services, it's made street-walking practically a thing of the past. And darling, you won't believe what it's done for The Industry… it's been like a Goddamned renaissance these past few years…!"
David had just reached the classified want-ad section, and as he read, his face got very hot and red and he decided he'd better sit down. Numbly, he read aloud, unable to believe his eyes…" 'Male Model, groovy, blond and well-hung-will turn either you or your wife on and on and on for twenty-five dollars an hour. I'm an AC/DC swinger, both flexible and uninhibited. Out-calls day and nite. Just ask for Peter Prong, the Family Sword-Swallower… '" Then David went down the line, reading other ads that were even more salacious, both male and female models, blatantly offering their wares. Finally, he glared up at Valerie. "Oh wow, I didn't know such stuff could be printed in a public newspaper." He gazed down at the sheet again, reading more ads, boldly stated listings of dimensions and proclivities. "You know something, Valerie? I'll bet none of these characters are really models."
Valerie burst out laughing, rushing towards him for a quick and steamy embrace. "Oh baby, don't you ever lose that innocence. They'll pay plenty for it."
Valerie smiled at him, saying nothing for a second, as if debating a new and strategic move. "Well, David, I think I can trust you to take this next step in your training-course. Yes, I think you're ready for the Big Time." So saying, she took him by the hand and led him across the living-room. When they reached the far corner of her thickly draped walls. Valerie pulled a hidden cord and revealed her surprise to David-a concealed sliding-door which he never knew existed. Valerie knocked twice, then slid open the door. Inside David saw a small, windowless office, which was nicely air-conditioned, and also had to be soundproof, he decided, since the noise of ringing telephones was almost deafening, and yet, he'd never heard any evidence of all this activity until now. Two young girls sat at desks, and between them they handled five busy telephones. Valerie wanted to introduce David, but the girls were too occupied to look up.
"DIAL A BOY MODELLING AGENCY!" each girl would proclaim after lifting the receiver. "You tell us your dreams, and we'll send you ours! Goosy-juicy treasures for your wild-erotic pleasures, and each adonis is bonded…"
"Like good Kentucky Bourbon," Valerie laughed, giving David a meaningful knuckle-nudge to the groin, and then laughing more uproariously as she noted his shocked expression.
She led him through the narrow office and out another door, which was obviously the girls' own entrance. This brought them to the corridor outside of Valerie's apartment. Now David recalled that he'd seen this hall-door before, but had assumed it was a janitor's closet. Unlocking the door to her apartment, Valerie led him back inside, still chuckling at the charming bewilderment on his face. She drew the drapes again, and told him to sit down and relax.
"We only make the setups here," she said, joining him on the divan.
"Setups?"
"After first making sure we have just what the client's looking for-you know, measurements, performance-specialties and all that-we arrange the time, the boy and the place. With the exception of rare material like you, David…" Her fingers pressing at his crotch to illustrate her point… "The boys never turn their tricks here in my apartment. As a rule they work out of their own room. Twenty-five an hour, of which we get ten. That's twenty-five per John, so you see, group-therapy sessions can be quite remunerative. The boys receive expert management, periodic blood-tests, full medical care, and legal protection, so it's really worth it to them. Three of our hungriest clients are also members of the Vice Squad, which, of course, is absolutely delightful, security-wise. And none of our boys work the streets, nor do they drink to excess or take erection-bending drugs, although there are other kinds, but we'll get into that later. Let's see now…" she gave him a quick glance to check his expression. "Close your mouth, David, we'll find something to fill it soon enough. Now… where was I? Oh yes… we maintain what we call a floating personnel. Fifty or sixty models, who check in with us whenever they're available, and we keep them on their toes, or their knees or their backs, as the case may be. However, David, you must realize what an honor we're bestowing on you by letting you work at his job full-time, because none of the others are ever given that opportunity."
David suspected this was some sort of a tribute, so perhaps he should acknowledge it. "Well… gee, thanks, Val… I'll surely try to… uh… justify your faith in me I… "
"But we do insist that all our boys be clean, well-bred, and, of course, married, which is what makes them so frantic to do everything that's denied them at home. For the most part, they're all sweet-faced commuter-hubbies just like you, darling; that's what we specialize in. And listen, hon, you'd be surprised how many of these pure-lookin' young daddies lose their prep-school cherries and get versatile overnight, once the right price is quoted."
For one frightening second it seemed to David that he had simply switched puppet-masters, from Montclair to Valerie. Then he remembered the peculiarly enthralling nature of his new career, and the festering excitement began to whip up inside of him once more. "Okay, Val, when do I start?"
"It'll be a few days before I can get your name and dimensions in the new ad," she said. "Let me think… we'll have to dig up a new name for you. What was that phony last name you were using… Thorndike? Hmmm… We certainly can't use 'Dike,' but how about 'Dickie?' "
"Sounds a little cutesy, doesn't it?"
"Not if we spice it up a little. How about: 'Powerhouse Dickie-All Meat and a Yard Long'!"
"OhmyGod, that gives me the chills!" It also gave him the stirrings of a new erection. "It sounds so damned daring! You sure it's all right?"
"Oh baby, anything goes these days. But just think how wild it'll be, you and me working a split-shift. You'll swing here by day, and I'll take on my usual crowd at night."
David thought about this. "Gosh, that means I can go home to Linda and the kids every night, just like always…"
"Of course you can, David! And she needn't even suspect what you've been up to, although she'll probably think you got a raise once all that extra cash comes flowing in… "
— At least I can keep her in the dark for ninety days, thought David, recalling Montclair's promise. But after that, pow! Her daddy will tell her everything. But he decided not to think about that now, because for three months he'd be living the most incredibly split double-life. And surely by the end of the day he'd be more than content to flop on the couch and watch stupefying television. Nor would he demand more than Linda's ritual Sunday evening conviviality, under this new regime.
And yet, there'd be a big and vital decision awaiting him at the end of those three months. There could be no compromises either, because by that time he'd have to know once and for all which way he preferred to spend the rest of his life: as a rising young insurance executive or a flaming male whore. Man, what a fork in the road that would be!
Two days later, after numerous undress-rehearsals with Valerie, David received his first assignment.
"Seventy-five bucks an hour!" squealed Valerie. "Oh honey, you're in luck!"
"Why seventy-five?" he wanted to know.
"Twenty-five a piece."
"Oh? Three pieces, huh?"
"Yes, David. A man and his wife, and his wife's brother."
David sighed a little shakily. "What does she look like?"
"Now stop that, you bad boy! You're not supposed to care what any of them look like, as long as you look good to them."
"But what kind of… I mean, what do they like? How do they want me to… "
"They want a guy who's handsome and young and prettily hung. Period!"
"Who said 'prettily hung,' the woman?"
"No, dear, it was a man who put through the call."
"Oh. Well, I shouldn't have any trouble meeting those qualifications…"
"No… but there was one other thing they stipulated."
"What's that?"
"You've got to be versatile."
He looked at her, then grinned. "Oh hell, you can vouch for that, can't you, baby?"
"Yes, but darling, in this business the word 'versatile' means a little more."
"Like what?"
"You've got to be willing to do anything and everything they ask…"
"Like what?" he said again.
"Don't ask," she said. "Just tell me you're willing. Are you, David?"
David's throat went dry and he swallowed. "Sure. I'm willing."
"Ahh… that's a good brownie!" she gave him a moist, delicious kiss. "I just know you'll come through with flying colors. Now hurry and shower. They'll be here within the hour."
Under the needle-spray David felt the mingled exhilaration of fear and excitement, telling himself how kicky and freaky and just plain mad it would be to start living the life of an Ancient Roman right here in San Francisco. And wow, if his prissy little Linda could see him now, she'd flip right off her pedestal!
While he was carefully drying his potentials later, Valerie slipped in the bathroom and handed him a cocktail, into which she had emptied a capsule of the new THC-drug. This contained the most potent ingredient found in marijuana, and quite often produced prolonged states of voracity in the normally ardent male. Since Valerie stood to make so much more than David this afternoon, she'd see to it that this baby did everything, all right-and beg for more!
Then, with no time to spare, she scurried into her kitchen and brought out a can of Windex-spray. Then scampered back to the living-room, where she un-draped the huge mirrored panel that backed up the mirrored-wall in her bedroom. She sprayed and polished until it sparkled. When she was sure that David was busily applied with his clients, she would go to the door of her secret office and admit the eight voyeur-guests she'd invited to witness the new boy's debut-performance. She had lured these clients to her apartment by sending them enlargements of the nude snapshots she'd taken of David. It was, of course, a one-way mirror; custom-built and quite costly to install, but boasted a full view of the bed and most of its surrounding area.
She would charge her quests fifty dollars a head for this heady pleasure. That, together with a third of what David earned, would add up to a real bonanza for the devoted little procuress. Thinking about it got her so happy, she hummed a little tune as she sprayed her fabulous peep-hole.