This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all message.
February 12th
The following morning was totally different from the evening before. The wind had dropped, the clouds had rolled away, and London looked sparkling and fresh in the bright sunshine. It was one of those precious February days which deceives you into thinking that Spring is just round the corner.
Jonathan said his farewells with many thanks to Maureen and Ray, and with the promise to Maureen to keep in touch. He made his way slowly, for he had plenty of time, towards the rendezvous with his Grandfather. He arrived at the steps of St Martin-in-the-Fields ten minutes before the appointed hour. He stood on the steps, expecting his grandfather to emerge from the Trafalgar Square tube station, or come down St Martin's Lane.
Malcolm arrived nearer to 11.30, but came along Buchanan Street, so approached Jonathan from behind. He saw his grandson standing there, with his back to him. It was for him a moving moment. When he was about six feet away he spoke. "Jonathan."
Jonathan turned and a look of joy spread over his face. They both quickly covered the space between them, and their arms were flung round each other.
Malcolm felt a couple of sobs throb through the chest of his grandson. He held on to him, giving him time to recover because he reckoned Jonathan may well not wish to show the depth of his feelings at their reunion.
Eventually Jonathan pulled away. "Good to see you, Gramps. How are you? You're looking well."
"Not so bad for an old un. The usual aches and pains. But feeling better since yesterday evening with hearing from you; and even better seeing you."
"I know, Gramps. I feel terrible about it all, but I couldn't help it. I could have phoned in the few days after I left home, but after that I have been unable to phone."
"Why? What on earth has been happening?"
"That's the long story."
"I'm feeling thirsty. I suggest we get a coffee, and then go for a walk in the Park, and you can tell me this long story."
They made their way up St Martin's Lane and soon found a coffee bar, one much like the one where Jonathan had met Maureen the day before. They sat perched on their stools. It was as if by mutual agreement that this was not the place to start the long story, so Jonathan asked questions about his home.
"How are Mum and Dad?"
"They both sent their love; and your Dad especially asked me to ask for your forgiveness for that punch he landed on you."
Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "I soon recovered."
"Did you get a black eye?"
"Oh yes. A real shiner. It went through all the colours of the rainbow before it completely disappeared. How are they?"
"Naturally they have were very worried when you went off. At first they thought you'd be back. Their worry deepened as the days went by."
"Didn't they get my messages through Ron?"
"The guy who phoned them?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Yes, they got those. They were reassuring in one sense, that you were still alive and not decomposing in some ditch."
"Did they think that?"
"I think it passed through their minds. But those messages left more unanswered questions than gave answers. They've been very worried. You did not part in the best way."
"I suppose you know what the row was about?"
"Yes. Your Dad told me what happened, and what it was all about."
Jonathan sat thinking. He supposed that his Grandfather knowing that essential fact would make things slightly easier when he came to tell his story. He looked at his mug there was still some more to drink. "How are Abigail and Thomas?"
"Fine. Though missing you."
"Do they know?"
"Yes. I think so. They know what the argument was all about."
Again Jonathan sat silent. "Let's go for that walk, and I'll tell you what happened to me."
They made their way back to Trafalgar Square, negotiated the traffic by Admiralty Arch, and made their way into St James' Park. They walked slowly feeling the faint warmth of the February sun on their backs.
"About this time last year my school friend Bob and I realised we were both gay, and we started making up for lost time. His parents never got home until an hour or more after we came from school, so we often went to his place. This went on right up until the middle of August."
"Just the two of you? No others involved?"
"Bob had had a brief contact with his uncle." Jonathan immediately realised that he should not have said that. "I shouldn't have told you that. Promise me Gramps that you won't pass that on?"
"I won't. What you tell me is for my ears only."
"Then Bob's father found some incriminating DVDs of Bob's uncle that he'd lent to Bob. So the balloon went up. I told Mum and Dad I was gay, and that I loved Bob. Dad especially, completely pooh-poohed the whole idea. He came out with all the usual Church stuff straight from Pastor Willis about the evil of homosexuality. I told him I felt a more complete person having discovered more about myself with Bob. Dad started talking about sending me off to be cured before going up to Uni. I didn't want to be cured." Then Jonathan added very softly, "I still don't want to be cured."
"Then there was the punch up, and you did a bunk?"
"Yes, Gramps I got out over the garage roof as I used to when I was a kid."
"And then what happened?
"I walked to the station and got a train through to Kings' Cross. I made my way from the station, through into the main line part of King's Cross. I was feeling hungry. I had had nothing since I had been with you early that evening."
"And you have hollow legs, that need filling every hour or two."
"So I made my way to the mainline station hoping to get something to eat, before finding somewhere where I could get a bed for the night."
"I suppose this was about 11.00 o'clock. Not a good time for finding a bed in London."
"This guy came up to me and started talking. He could see my puffy eye that was swelling up. He offered me a bed for the night. It was too good an offer to turn down. His tiny flat was not far away. He got me something to eat, and we went to bed. Separate beds, but in the same room. In the morning my eye was pretty bad, and felt awful. We had some breakfast, and talked. He asked me what had happened at home to get the black eye. He asked outright whether I was gay. The idea of gaydar was new to me then. He was a nice guy, he'd given me a bed, fed me. He was in his thirties I should think. I thought it was almost a way of saying thank you. We ended up in bed. He was much more experienced than me. I enjoyed it. He invited me to continue to stay at his place, pointing out that finding a bed for the night, and a job, would not be helped if I had a black eye. It was in those days that I should have phoned home, Gramps. I didn't know what was going to happen. I kept putting it off. I wasn't sure what to say to Dad or Mum if I'd have rung them. Keith was so kind, generous. And yes, Gramps, I did enjoy what we did together."
"But you haven't been with this Keith all the time up until yesterday?"
"Oh, no. One day Keith came back to say that we had been invited to a weekend party, down in the country. He told me it was a party of like minded men. We went, and it was."
"A weekend of gay men all after the same thing?"
Jonathan nodded, "Yes. There was a swimming pool, and of course, no clothes on."
"And you joined in?"
"Yes, Gramps, I'm afraid I did. It was a totally new experience for me." Then he added softly, "I very much enjoyed it."
"Then what happened?"
"Arrangements for getting back to London were changed. I was to go with the owner of the farm, a guy named Bill. In the car I went to sleep; I was drugged."
"Drugged?"
"Yes, I woke up on a bed in a very different house."
"Different in what way."
"It was a very plush private house. Bill's private home. He's got plenty of money from all his interests. When I came to there was a guy by my bed, and when I was fit enough to stand on my two feet I was taken down to see Bill. He told me he wanted me to work for him."
"I think I can guess what he wanted you to do."
"Bill has this club. Outwardly a very respectable men's club, but there is an annexe."
"A sort of gay bawdy house? He wanted you to work for him?"
"Yes, exactly."
"So what did you say, Jon?"
"I refused. I said I was due to go up to Uni in a couple of weeks or so. Bill pointed out that I had probably lost my place by then. He told me that his club was a high class establishment. Among his patrons were all sorts, bankers, lawyers, the odd judge or two, well heeled medics, some MPs, as well as a couple of bishops."
"A real high class gay bawdy house!"
"He pointed out I would earn good money. He said that if I worked for him for a year or two I would be able to sail through Uni and leave without any debt hanging round my neck."
"I suppose that offer has its attractions these days?"
"I continued to say ,'no'. He then said he'd give me twenty fours hours to think it over. I protested but was dragged away by the two guys and taken downstairs to a small room. No window, just a matress on the floor, and a bucket to piss into in the corner. There was a camera looking down on me. The two undressed me, ripping my shirt off me so the buttons went flying. They brought me down my meals, and always looked me over as though wanted to enjoy my body. It was terrible, Gramps."
"Did you take up the offer?"
"Bill came down the next day and repeated the offer. Again I turned it down. He pointed out that I had enjoyed the weekend, and what was the difference between that and getting paid for doing it. His offer consisted of a basic £25 a week, £15 for each punter, plus tips. He said most of his boys earned between £500 and £1000 a week."
Malcolm whistled with surprise at the amount suggested.
"I think I said something about my parents trying to find me. He just laughed. `Do you think the police are going to waste their time looking for an eighteen year of poof, who's run away from home?' He said I was no Madeleine McCann."
"Some truth in that. Michael and Lois did go to the Police Station to report you missing, but much as you have said they were not really interested when they knew your age, and the reason why you had left home. So what happened next?"
"I was kept in that cell, always with the light on, always under the watchful eye of the camera, always stark naked. I lost track of time. They would do things like bringing me a series of breakfast type meals in succession. Sometimes the intervals seemed long, at other times frequent. I was taken to another room, strung up and beaten. There were punches, and my belt was used on me."
"Jon!"
"So it went on. Then one day one the guys, the nicer of the two, said that Bill had given the okay for him to have me. He said I could either co-operate, and make it easier for myself, or he could get the other one to come down and hold me while I was raped. I chose the easier way."
"Lubricant?"
"Yes, he allowed me to use some lube on myself, and he used lube on the condom."
"But you were still raped!"
"I co-operated. He was gentle, my body responded, and I almost enjoyed it. That guy was always the more considerate of the two. The other guy had his turn the next day. He was a great big fellow. No concessions, no lube. He just shoved it in with one thrust, fortunately he has a small dick."
Malcolm gave a slight grin.
"Always the offer was held out to me. I only had to say the word and take up Bill's offer and all this would cease. Those days in the cell were the worst part of my whole experience. I was alone, a prisoner. Lost all sense of time. Gramps, I eventually gave in, and said `yes'."
"How long had you held out?"
"Twenty-one days. Longer than anyone else who had had that treatment. I still have nightmares about those days in the cell. I wake up in the night thinking I am back there naked and waiting to be beaten yet again." Jonathan sobbed at the memory.
Malcolm put his arm round his grandson, and they found a nearby seat and sat down. Jonathan lent forward his head buried in his hands, and Malcolm gently rubbed his back.
"You did well, Jon, holding out so long. I'm proud of you."
"But that's not the end of the story."
"Maybe not, but it does explain what I expect is to follow."
"Yes, I became a sex worker at Bill's Club. I was doing that until yesterday afternoon."
"Was it terrible, a lot of nasty old men?"
"No, I must confess, there were times when I enjoyed what I was doing. The punters were men from all walks of life, but all of them well off and who could afford Bill's prices. Many of them were very generous with their tips. The age range went from late teens right up to eighties."
"Late teens, what teens can afford that sort of thing?"
"Some professional footballers get ludicrous money these days. There were a couple who came quite regularly who were slightly younger than me. They'd been introduced to the Club by one of the Directors, or a Manager in another case, who felt that they ran less risk of being outed at a place like Bill's, than if they went cottaging or picking up rent boys. There were also some from the Pop music scene. Some of them are celebrities. Yes, all the punters were there for the same thing, but they differed a lot. I am talking too much, Gramps, you don't want to hear all that sort of thing."
"It is an aspect of life that is unknown to me. Oh yes, I know that there must be such places, but never heard about them, or read about them. How many were there working with you? The Boys did you call them?"
"Twelve to fifteen. One or two moved on and several became boys after me."
"How did you all get on?"
"Most of the time very well. There were occasional fall outs, and arguments over silly little things. Sometimes there was some sparring about, but never degenerated into a fight. We supported and helped each other. We all had our down times, and difficult punters, but the other Boys were always there, to encourage and cheer up."
"And what happened yesterday?"
"There were two ways into the Boy's part of the club. One from the main, or respectable part of the club. The other led out onto the narrow road at the back of the club. That was the door I initially came into the club. Yesterday afternoon I found the door open, and none of the staff standing by. When that door was open there was usually someone there, as much to keep people out, as to keep guys like me in. There was a van outside, and I think the one on duty was helping to unload something. I had made no promise to Bill about not running off from the club, so I ran. I was fortunately to meet Maureen, the priest as she describes herself, in the coffee bar and the rest you know."
"I can understand, Jon, why you did not want to tell me all that over the phone last night. It's quite a story. You don't think of young men being seduced and kidnapped and forced to work in prostitution in this day and age. It might happen to lad in North Africa, or Thailand, but not in England to English boys from a good home." Malcolm sat thinking.
"Thanks for listening, Gramps. I'm sorry it is such a story. If you want nothing more to do with me, I shall understand."
"You're still my grandson, Jon. I thinking you're more sinned against than sinning, though I doubt whether your parents will see it quite like that."
"I suppose I shall have to tell them sometime."
"Do you want to make things up with your Dad and Mum?"
Jonathan nodded. "Yes, I do. Though telling them even a part of all that is going to be painful."
"I think it was hard enough for you to tell me. But you will know from your Uncle Kevin I don't go along with your folk on these things."
"Yes, that was why I rang you and not them."
"Now, Jon, I'm feeling hungry. I had breakfast earlier than usual. Let's get something to eat, and we can think about what's to be done."
They stood up, and walked back out of St James' Park. If they talked about anything, while negotiating the traffic and the lunch time crowds out enjoying the Spring like day, they talked about what had happened in the Pridham family and in Whitgest while Jonathan had been out of contact. They found somewhere to eat.
Half of Malcolm's attention was on his own thoughts. He thought over all that Jonathan had told him. He thought that Jonathan had matured as the result of his experiences, though he was still emotionally scarred from his three weeks in the cell. He thought it would be bad for the boy to remain in London, and anyway what was he going to do, even with a loan he would need to find somewhere to live and work to do.
Jonathan too was thinking while he ate. It had been difficult telling his grandfather all that had happened to him. He hoped he had been truthful and open about it all. He was pleased and surprised that his grandfather had seemed to take it all so calmly. But now being with a member of his family again he realised acutely how much he was missing them, even, perhaps especially, his own parents. He was wondering again what his options were. "Gramps, what do you think I should do?"
Malcolm looked at him. "I think you should come back to Whitgest with me."
"But that would involve meeting Mum and Dad. I don't know that I'm quite ready for that, with all that has happened to me over the last six months. They'll want to know."
"Yes, they'll want to know. And they'll find it all very hard to accept. But I think I can keep them away from Whitgest for a few days, if necessary. You need time to think. What has happened to you has changed your route in life, and changed you as well. I think you need to have some time when you can work out where you want to go from here. You need to be reconciled with your immediate family. What are you going to do about this man Bill? He owes you a lot of money, to put it mildly. Are you going to prosecute him for unlawful imprisonment, living off immoral earnings and so on?"
"I hadn't thought about that!"
"At Whitgest you can do your own thing if you want to. I play quite a lot of golf, as you know, you could come along with me, and have some rounds."
Jonathan's eyes lit up, as he had begun to take an interest in golf, having dismissed it as an old man's game for years.
"You don't want a teenager knocking around disturbing the even tenor of your ways."
"You're not any old teenager, at least for me you're not."
Jonathan sat for several minutes thinking over his grandfather's offer. "I think you're right, I do need to reset my life-compass after what I've been through. Everything has changed, hasn't it."
Malcolm nodded slowly. "Yes, everything has changed. The experiences you've had will affect the rest of your life. It will be largely up to you whether they are totally negative, or whether you can redeem them and make them positive."
"Yes, I need time to think. I'll come back with you."
They talked for a while about some domestic arrangements at Whitgest. Malcolm suggested Jonathan slept in Kevin's old bedroom. There was a grin on his face when he said that.
"Confine the infection of poofery to the already contaminated bedroom?" said Jonathan with a very broad grin.
Malcolm laughed. "I don't think Kev'll mind. I suggested that room because it is next to mine, if you should need anything."
"Gramps, I've had a thought. The only clothes I have are what I've got on. I need to buy some new clothes, or get my hands on the clothes which, I presume, are still at home in Luton."
"I think a visit to Marks and Sparks is called for. We can get your things from Luton in a day or two. That move must not be pressurised."
They went by tube back to Kings' Cross and caught the train out to Stevenage. There they visited Marks and Spencer's and bought some underwear, socks and a couple of shirts."
Malcolm reckoned there were some jackets and pullovers of his own, or of his boys still around that would do until Jonathan could get his hands on his own clothes.
When they got back to the car after completing the shopping Malcolm handed Jonathan the keys of the car.
The look of delight on Jonathan's face was a reward in itself.
"But, Gramps, I have never driven your car, and not driven at all for six months."
"Then the sooner you start driving again the better."
It was beginning to get dark when Jonathan drove up to his grandparent's home. They got out of the car.
"It's good to be back, Gramps. I feel much better already."
"Good. I need a cup of tea."
Jonathan first went for a walk round the garden, even though it was almost dark.
They sat in the kitchen drinking their tea and discussing the next move.
"I think we better let your parents know where you are, and what has happened. They'll have been wondering about it all day. I think I'll phone them and tell them you're here."
"Okay."
"Do you want to listen to what I say."
Jonathan nodded.
"Then here goes." Malcolm lifted down the phone which was in the kitchen, and dialled the number. It rang several times.
"Hello Lois, Pop here."
"I've been wondering all day how you were getting on."
"The short news is that I've brought Jon back here with me. He is looking fine, got a nice tan believe it or not."
"Can we come over and see him?"
"Lois, he has had an eventful time, [Malcolm very nearly said `traumatic' but thought better of it.] He needs to have some time to get sorted out, get his bearings again, if you know what I mean."
"But is he alright?"
"Yes, fine. A lot has happened to him in these last few months. He has told me what; but he is now back in familiar sure surroundings, he just needs some time to get his bearings again."
"You're now making me worried."
"Lois, you must trust me. He is safe and well. He looks fine, and he still has the same smile, and we've had some laughs together. He just needs some time."
Jonathan stood up and came over to Malcolm, and made signals that he wanted to speak to his mother. Malcolm handed him the phone.
"Hello, Mum."
"Jon, it's wonderful to hear your voice."
"It's good to hear yours too."
"Your Dad has felt terrible about hitting you that evening."
"That's all a long while ago, and a lot has happened since then."
"Can't you tell me now?"
"It is a long, long story, Mum. I think it should be told when I can talk to you both face to face."
"Can't we come over this evening?"
"No Mum. I need to do some thinking, some sorting of myself out. I am alright. Don't worry. Just a day or so. How's Dad?"
"As busy as ever."
"And Abigail and Thomas?"
"They have missed you a lot."
"How much do they know about why I left home?"
"A lot. We told them what happened that evening, and we told them why there had been the argument. We did not tell them about you and Bob, we were not explicit on that."
"Thanks, Mum. I do really want to see you all, and soon. Give my love to Dad, and the other two."
"I will."
"I'll hand you back to Gramps."
Malcolm took back the phone, and he and Lois chatted on for a few minutes. He told her various details about the day, but nothing of Jonathan's story."
Malcolm, with Jonathan's help, prepared a meal. After they had cleared away, they made some coffee and went and sat into lounge. They sat together on the sofa. When they had drunk their coffee, Malcolm put his arm round Jonathan.
"Good to have you back, Jon."
"Thanks Gramps, good to be back."
"The last six months have been very miserable for me. First losing Janice, and then losing you. We've all been so worried."
"I'm sorry, Gramps. I feel guilty about that, as well as all the other."
"But today has been one of the happiest days of my life. I know your story was a grim one, I know your mixed feelings over the whole thing, but it was a privilege to be told it."
"Thanks for listening, and not judging, not condemning."
"The important thing is how you deal with yourself."
They sat together. Later they turned on the television and half watched a programme about a Victorian Farm. Then they watched the ten o'clock news.
"I'm feeling sleepy, Gramps. I think I'll go to bed."
"Fine. I think I'll send an Email off to Kevin, he'll be wanting to know what's happened."
They both stood up, and put their arms round each other. It was Jonathan who, somewhat to Malcolm's delighted surprise, gave him a kiss."
"Thank you, Gamps. When Grandma was dying you know I had some time alone with her?"
Malcolm nodded.
"She told me to keep a special eye on you when she'd gone. She said there was something special between the two of us. I didn't know what she meant then; but I do now."
"Jon lad, when your father and his brothers were born I held all of them very soon after their births. They were special moments with all three. I held you in my arms when you were a few hours old. Something happened at that moment. I know tears came into my eyes. Janice saw it then, and noticed. All she said was, That was a precious moment wasn't it, when you held the baby?' I nodded, I didn't dare speak. You men are always surprised by the depth of your feelings whenever you do really feel something. We women are different.' I love all my family, my boys and my grandchildren. You're not my favourite, I don't think I love you more, Jon, but you are special."
"Thanks for being Gramps."
They stood hugging each other for many minutes, both enjoying the moments of intimacy.
Jeffrey at jeffyrks@hotmail.com