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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

The Butler - 5. Chapter V

May 22nd 2005, New York.

I ate in silence while my mind went into overdrive. This was the chance of a lifetime! A second start; one I shouldn’t screw up. Not that I’d dream of doing that. I knew how life on the other side was, and it wasn’t pretty. This could solve all my problems and what’s more; it’d get me off the street and out of the, sometimes, degrading business of selling sex for a roof or food.

Meanwhile, Mr. Montgomery waited patiently, watching me eat, and smiling when I made sounds of pure joy at once again consuming solid food. I finished the whole tray in less than fifteen minutes, looking for extras.

“No, I think we will wait a while. When was the last time you enjoyed an actual meal, Christopher?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno. A week? Two?”  
I actually couldn't remember and his face expressed pity.

“Too long, in any event. That could all be over now. You've had a little time to think about my offer; have you come to a decision?”

“Not so fast, old man. Before I agree to anything, I wanna know exactly what it is I'll be getting into. But let's talk money, first.”

He bowed his head, accepting the small delay in, what he and I both knew, was a foregone conclusion.

“By all means; let’s.”
He thought for a moment.
“How does....$1000 per week sound?”
I actually choked on my last bite.


“No, chickens. Yes, Christopher, dollars. Is that too little?”

“No, no, no…that’s…that’s…more than I’ve ever earned. Ever!”

“You’re not a very good negotiator, are you?” he chuckled.
I felt my face redden. No, I guess not. But wow….a thousand a week?
“Of course, you don’t pay rent, seeing as you will be living with me. Travel expenses will also be paid, as is food, clothing and anything else you require for the job. You’ll be sent on proper training, of course and I prefer you dress more formally than you’re used to, I’m afraid.”
I dismissed that with a hand wave. This was getting better and better. Food, drink, threads…
“A car you won’t need, I have several. You have a driver's license?”
I nodded.
“Dental, medical; all will be taken care of, of course.”

“Of course,” I replied, stunned. My throat was dry. If he was trying to seduce me into taking the job, he’d already had me at the mentioned thousand dollars.

“We’d primarily stay in my house in Greenwich. I prefer to stay there. I have this place for when I wish to be close to entertainment; theatre, brunches, that sort of thing. Now Christopher…”
He leaned forward a bit.
“I am an old man, and living with me may be quite boring, at times. The biggest drawback of my proposal. Do you think you can live with that?”

“I think so, yes,” I replied. Was he kidding me? I’d guard him with my life, for what he offered. A roof over my head, food on the table? Fuck yeah!

“Then do we have a deal?”
I nodded, eagerly. I didn’t care if he thought me to be too eager. I just… I could hug the man, if he’d let me!
“Shall we shake on it?” he then said, extending his hand. It engulfed mine when I took it.

“You've got yourself an employee, Mr. Montgomery.”

It would prove to be the best deal I ever made.


I was yanked out of memory lane because of the telephone ringing. It was so eerily quiet in the house I startled at the sound. It took two or three rings for me to even realize it was the telephone; I'd been far away with my thoughts. All this time I’d been in the study, remembering the past.

Leaning forward, I answered.

“Montgomery residence,“ I spoke, automatically picking up a pen on the note book lying next to the telephone.

A male voice responded. “Montgomery International. This is Alan, Mr. Montgomery’s secretary. I have his arrival time for you.”

“Yes, go on.”

“Mr. Montgomery’s jet will arrive at Westchester County Airport at 4pm. He requests that you arrange for transportation to the house, no later than 4:15pm.”

I wrote it down, glancing at the pendulum that sat on the desk. 1pm.

“Do you have that?”

“Yes, I have. Arrival at 4, transportation no later than 4:15. Thank you for your call.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that the line was abruptly disconnected and I put the receiver down.

So he was coming.


May 23rd 2005, New York

The day after agreeing to Mr. Montgomery’s proposal, I woke up filled with a sense of expectation. It all still seemed like a dream, but the room was still there when I opened my eyes after a long night of blissful, uninterrupted, sleep, it having been offered as a temporary ‘base’ for me, since I was absent a home of my own. There also still was the bathroom, with its plethora of oils and amenities. My clothes were still gone, but instead of being replaced by tailor-made suits, as I’d dreamed that night, I found the same robe I had worn the night before, hung on the chair where I’d left it, the flip-flops still parked underneath.
The only new thing was an envelope, on the nightstand. I held my breath as I picked it up; it was heavy.

Then I almost fainted when it revealed, after careful counting, the sum of $1000 dollars.
My hands shook when I put it back in the envelope, grinning stupidly. Then I let myself fall back on the bed, letting out whoop. This was actually happening!

We hadn’t talked all that much after shaking on it. It had taken Mr. Montgomery all of ten minutes to retreat, claiming arrangements had to be made immediately. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about all that would have to be done, at that moment. It was a bit much to take in all at once.

Waking up to, and walking into, an empty house was a bit of a damper on the party in my mind. Wandering aimlessly through the halls, and the many rooms, I came to a comfortable sitting room that had the most stunning view; a golden pendulum sat on a mantle that spanned almost wall-to-wall.

All was quiet, not a sound penetrated from outside. That was new. Living on the streets, I’d gotten used to a cacophony of sounds. All this quiet was louder than any siren or car horn. Pushing my hands deep in the pockets of the robe, I slowly walked up to the window, looking out on Central Park and on the people down there whom were busily living their hectic little lives.

Like ants, people down there continued; life continued. And mine was about to change. Dramatically.
I heard a soft rustle behind me and turned to find Mr. Montgomery standing in the doorway holding, what looked like, a dossier. It was fat, filled with all sorts of papers.

“Ah,” he said, smiling, “here you are. Have you slept well?”

“Very well.” I nodded. “And thank you for the envelope.”

“You’re welcome. I had Basil put it there; a small surprise to wake up to. Your first wages in my employ.”

“Sure was!”

Mr. Montgomery continued to smile and inclined his head to one of the sofas.

“I need some more information from you. But before we start; have you eaten yet?”

My stomach rumbled at the mention of food and I grinned, embarrassed.

“Not yet, no.”

“That won’t do. We can’t work on an empty stomach. So why don’t you go and freshen up? I’ll have Basil make you a light breakfast while you’re gone. Nothing too heavy yet; your body needs to get used to regular meals again. Too much at once, and…well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be pleasant, the first few days, or so a doctor friend of mine told me. We’ll slowly make you get used to it.”

Whattayamean ‘slowly’? I could eat a horse! But maybe he was right.

“Alright. But…I don’t have anything else to wear but this. I don’t want to complain, but you burned my clothes, remember?”

“Ah, yes. Basil is taking care of that as we speak. Why don’t you go freshen up and we meet back here in, say…an hour?”

I nodded and took my leave, retreating to my room. I liked the sound of that. MY room.


Refreshed, clean and shaven, I opened the bathroom door, peeking through to see if Basil was in the room, dropping off some threads. No one was there, but he had brought clothes as promised, and had put them on the end of the bed.

Naked, I went to the door and locked it; then I looked at what he had brought me. A pair of black socks. Dark grey boxers. The fabric felt smooth to the touch. Were they satin? Silk?
The label told me silk satin. Right.

There were also a pair of dark grey pants, and a blinding white dress shirt, each labeled Armani. Even the socks! Oh man, this I could get used to!

The boxers felt like a dream, and putting them on was an experience that bordered on the erotic. Very nice! Then the pants; and my life just changed permanently. I’d never go back to retail, ever again. I knew that from the moment I looked at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked hot. The hair needed work, but other than that? Hell, I’d date myself. No, I’d have sex with me, right then and there. I used a comb to make a parting in my too long hair, going for a more Christian look. It seemed to add to my reflection, instead of the spiky look I’d sported until then.

I grinned as I looked at my mirror-image, turning this way and that and I was actually disappointed not to find a tie and jacket to match; then I’d have looked like a million bucks. Hmm, maybe not; I didn’t have shoes. I guessed Basil hadn’t thought of them. Putting on the flip-flops, though, seemed like an insult to the clothes so I opted to go without, instead making my way back to the sitting room, unable to resist sliding over the marble floors like a child on ice.


Edited: 03/29/2018

Copyright © 2018 Andr0gene; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Chapter Comments

LOL, you do have a thing for Armani. I can recall Kit tell Tom that putting on his new shirt and trousers should be almost orgasmic. :lol: 

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Oh yes. Ever worn it? It is orgasmic. And I love their shirts. :D 

Edit: btw, that was Taylan telling Tom, in the parking lot. ;) 

Edited by Andr0gene
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Although Christopher has landed in the pound seats ... can’t shake the feeling that Mr Montgomery’s horizons are looking a little brighter too! 

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I don't care what anyone says, the clothes can make the man or woman.  I don't know if I am dreading the arrival of Gregory Jr. or waiting with baited breathe.  Great job.

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