6 November 2015

Pimp

Wad_of_money

“The wee small hours have nearly faded away John Boy and it’s been one hell of a night. It did me good to visit our old stomping grounds and see so many familiar faces. There’s no friend like an old friend Johnny and we go back a long way don’t we? So welcome to my pad – please treat it as your own. You want a girl? I’ll fetch you a girl – anything you want buddy is yours for the asking. How about some champagne? Or some charley? Or maybe a wee drop blow? I can make a couple of calls and get you anything you want. Remember, the hospitality of the house is at your disposal and anything you want is gratis – it’s only the best for my old mucker. You’re one of the family after all.

What do you think of the place then? Is this the sweetest deal or what? You need to be part of this – it’s a gold mine. All the roads around here lead towards the red light district and here we are at the epicentre – ground zero of the promiscuous explosion. This is the best whorehouse in town and people come from miles around to spend their money here.

Those cheapskate curb crawlers and knee tremblers are not our target customers; they’ll pick up any shady piece of brass in the street for a disease riddled quickie down some dark alley and think nothing of it – hardly a quality experience is it?. We like to minimise the risk and ramp up the pleasure here – you pay a little more, but you get a lot more. You get comfortable and safe surroundings for a start; we run a hygienic establishment here, and have never had any complaints about our standards.

It’s the company that sometimes attracts the complaints; some of our neighbours don’t like the transformers, some don’t like the twinks, some don’t like the girls, while others just despise the punters. I myself don’t like the junkies - thieving toe rags the lot of them. We like to discourage folk from hanging around outside – it creates a bad impression. I love this place Johnny – it has an air of immorality that appeals to my bohemian nature and there is gravy to be made here – lots of gravy.

This was a bit of a dive when I first started, but things were running smoothly enough. I was making a few bob and everything was cushty, until I fucked it up. They used to call them sins of the flesh, but that’s a vague term; I prefer fornication. My seed, according to my erstwhile benefactor, was spilled on sacred ground – his daughter being the ground in question. She was up the duff and he demanded satisfaction in the matter, but I don’t swing that way. I know it was his kid and he had a right to be upset, but we were consenting adults sharing each other’s bodies and that was nothing to do with him. His whole shotgun approach was a bit heavy handed. He insisted I would marry the bint or lose my position as head nonce in his knocking shop. I felt threatened when he said that – I was coining in some decent graft in my post as head clerk. I had planned on building a little nest egg to secure my future, but I couldn’t marry the cow and I couldn’t stand to lose the job, so I came up with a third option.

I stalked my prey carefully for a few gut churning days before deciding when and where to do the deed. I figured I would break into his office and stage a bungled robbery first thing on Friday morning when he brought the wages in. Meanwhile, I played along with the old bastard’s plans and as far as he was concerned I would marry his bovine bow legged daughter at the soonest possible convenience.

My patron was punctual as usual and I think the sheer shock of what awaited him in the office might have finished the old bugger off, but I’d swung my heavy club before he had time to utter a single word or let loose with a scream. The first blow cracked open his skull like an egg, but I didn’t stop there. The police report said that the victim endured a ferocious and sustained assault from a weapon as yet unidentified. Now there’s a phrase I won’t forget in a hurry; ‘ferocious and sustained’. There was blood and brains everywhere – I nearly chucked my breakfast. At that moment I genuinely felt sorry I had done it. I could have gotten another job – some sweet deal somewhere up the west end maybe, but I knew in my heart that this was my last chance to score big before I grew too old. I took no pleasure in my actions, but it was done of necessity and if I had to I’d do it again.

My former benefactor out of the way the first thing I did was to drop the daughter post-haste. As it turned out she and her mother were just as relieved as I was that the wedding was cancelled; she never wanted to marry a man who was so much older than herself. She kept the baby, but I’ve to remain out of the picture; which suits me. I bung her a couple of quid from time to time – I’m not a complete bastard. What? It’s a boy mate – little Francis – does something for me knowing there’s a wee me running around out there. I was made up when she dropped it by the way, totally made up.

Anyway, with the old man having been murdered in a botched robbery his widow took ownership of the property which was too dilapidated to sell on. She was not interested in the business – I doubt she’d ever set foot in the building. So she just left it all to me to manage; at last I got to run the place the way I wanted.

We now cater to the lecherous and perverted at large in this city of licentious excess. We can service every taste; you name it and we have the personnel and the equipment right here on the premises to fulfil your needs. I had the dining room transformed into a ballroom where we hold orgiastic parties day and night. We charge admittance just to enter that room, and that’s before the punter even chooses a whore. Previously, we were just a hotel that rented rooms by the hour to anyone who asked and so the place was haunted by junkies, rent boys and scrubbers. There was a lot of money changing hands, but we weren’t seeing much of it. Nowadays we peddle flesh not beds and we get the lion’s share of all the action – straight down the line.

We went from hotel to brothel practically overnight and I had to grease a few palms during the transition, but now we are established and the dough is rolling in I don’t care if I have to bung the rozzers a little sugar now and then; in fact it’s good for business. We’ve never been busted because we keep them sweet. Occasionally a couple of busies drop in looking for a few free drinks – others come to sample the flesh on offer – all on the house of course. We can put up with that in the interests of good community policing.

I never touch the goods myself. It’s constantly there in my face I know, but it’s not for me. I never paid for pussy in my life and I don’t take freebies from the girls either – that would be the same thing as paying. I don’t fuck whores, I prefer to go non trade, but I’m only attracted to the flesh that’s available; some might say that I’m a pragmatic man – others that I’m lazy, but I’m past chasing after skirt that’s unavailable. My endocrine system is the final arbiter of my romantic entanglements. I’ve learned to lay my trust in the body – the body knows instinctively what it’s due – nowadays I know what is for me and what isn’t by scent alone. I’m not joking – can tell from ten paces if she wants it or not.

Jesus, we go back a long ways don’t we? We did our first stretch together back in Saughton jail when we were still wet behind the ears, but they soon made men of us. I came out of prison with a first class education in criminal enterprise. There wasn’t a scam going that I wasn’t wise to, but there’ll be no more of that kind of graft for us boy. You can come and work for me here and I’ll teach you the oldest profession there is – pimping. I’ll start you off as night manager; you’ll keep an eye on the place in the early hours. You’ll make money don’t worry – there is always some action over and above the wage packet. You’re a smart cookie – you’ll make out fine. Look at me; my little nest egg is already bursting at the seams.

Do you read at all? I read a lot – it exercises the mind and you learn a bit too. There are books on every conceivable subject in my office; help yourself to them they’re yours. You know you missed a lot when you were dubbed up inside. Everyone is hooked up to the internet now – with their computers, we even take bookings online. It seems that these days every crook I know has a side line on the internet, most of them are peddling second hand goods that their kids liberated from the scheme. You can nick a mountain bike in the morning and by the afternoon it’s sold and on its way to Timbuktu – well beyond the reach of plod. Fascinating stuff the internet, if I was starting out now I’d get myself into computers, but I’m an old dog to be learning new tricks and besides I’d rather be where I am now and raking it in.

Stick with me Johnny and you’ll be rolling in it too. It’s an honest trade – there’s no twisting arms and none of my whores are strung out – I’d be showing them the door otherwise. Think it over – you could do a lot worse – after all we are all whores old son and we all have a price. Mine was having a place of my own and I was willing to swing for the chance at it. I may have sold my soul, but it was a stroke of luck the day I set foot in here. I believe in luck and the occasional tiny miracle, but I put my faith in planning above all. You have to think ahead in this life – you need to have a plan, even if it’s as basic as clubbing your way to the top the way I did.”

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