Chapter Seven

7.1 Cynthia [Zumba] meets her friends.

‘Ahh . . . I see. That does seem very unfortunate. Why haven’t you come to tell me this before?’

‘Because Lan, it’s just become a problem. One of the Elders, or perhaps several, have become suspicious and called in an accounting firm to do an audit, of the current financial year. We didn’t get much notice, so all we could do was comply; not to do so would’ve been suspicious. It wasn’t . . .’

‘My dear Cynthia we are well capable of dealing with recalcitrant people, you should’ve informed us immediately so we could take preventative action against your Elder or Elders. You’ve behaved unwisely.’

Lan Van Duong stared piercingly at Cynthia Hudson who sat before his imposing desk feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. Lan headed the consortium laundering drug money through Shephard Ministries. When they met in Lan’s office, being safe and bug-free, they used real names. Over the phone Cynthia’s code name was Zumba.

In a past life, Lan attained the rank of Colonel in the South Vietnamese army and fought with the yanks against the Viet Cong. During that time he developed lucrative contacts with the drug lords of the Golden Triangle, so when the American troops arrived, he easily satisfied their demand for drugs. His high-level contacts with the yanks, ensured his escape to America when South Vietnam collapsed. But his enemies pursued him and he soon determined to find a safer place to continue his drug business.

Australia! The Land Down Under, became highly attractive as he’d also developed contacts within the Aussie military. A few strings pulled, a bit of cash passing hands, a name change, new documents, and onto Australia’s sunny shores he came . . . of course with family. Next, his pressing concern became how to launder the drug profits. Whilst in the States he’d heard how easy it was to convert loose cash into hard assets by using religion . . . particularly the Fundamentalist Christian megachurches existing throughout the country. Logically, he assumed the same outlet would be available in Aussie Land so he set about finding a suitable fit . . . and chanced upon Shephard Ministries. They were perfect . . . and amenable.

As soon as he met the Hudson Pastors, he realized the wife, Cynthia, was the driving force. The husband, Bernard, appeared to be nothing more than a blowhard, useful for preaching, but weak. Lan also found the history of Bernard’s father, the pedophile, interesting and stored the matter away for future use. To a drug kingpin, any leverage is good currency.

Now he listened as Cynthia Hudson outlined a problem that could become a disaster for Lan. He couldn’t allow his financial empire to be threatened and that required unpleasant action.

‘Tell me, Cynthia, how do you assess the current situation, you mentioned an audit, but only of the current financial year. How did that come about?’

‘We don’t know exactly because we weren’t consulted and don’t know who initiated contact with the accounting firm. We received a call from their senior partner that an audit had been requested by the Elders. No further information provided. You know for political, appearance, and financial reasons we’ve divorced ourselves from the day-to-day operations of the church. This advice we received . . .’

‘Pardon me, but that sounds risky, you mean you have no control over these elders and you don’t require detail as to how your church is run? That doesn’t make good business sense, does it?’

‘(Fiery) Please let me finish! The Elders know that without us, well my stupid husband, there wouldn’t be a church. To remove us would jeopardize their own fringe benefits and prestige. ( Lan nodded) Also, we appointed our son Paul, General Manager, secure in the knowledge that he is beholding to us . . . you see, he is adopted. ( Lan frowned). Up till now, it’s been a perfectly secure situation . . . until now.’

‘Until now? What has happened that you believe he’s changed? Before you answer, how much does he know about our agreement and the practical aspects of that agreement?’

‘Everything! He’s the General Manager. He’s in charge of every aspect concerning the day-to-day transactions. Of course, he has to know about our understanding. In fact, we’ve groomed him over the years to take charge so we can keep our secrets within the family. We adopted a child, took him out of an orphanage so he’s totally beholding to us, you can’t let a stranger manage very sensitive private affairs, thus we decided to adopt. In concept, it’s brilliant. Why are you frowning?’

‘Lady, did you not consider that at some time he might turn on you?’

‘Why would he do that? What reason would he have to stab his adopted family in the back?’

‘If you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions. Let’s get back to your previous statement ‘until now’. What’s changed? I insist you be completely open and frank with me because a lot is at stake . . . as you know.’

‘Yes, I do know; that’s why I’m here today. Just recently he came to us warning that the audit will certainly discover the detailed aspects of our association. ( Lan gasped) He became extremely forthright and attacked his father and me for using him. He claimed we had made him our creature. After a heated discussion he also claimed to be . . . to be . . . a homosexual. By itself, I wouldn’t be alarmed but we know he’s become very friendly with the young man who’s heading the audit investigation. That’s when I became worried . . .’

‘I see. We’ll have to investigate further because at this point I can’t see where that association would jeopardize our continuing relationship. Now, what about his visits to the opium den? Do you suspect this has anything to do with his change in attitude? I’m not talking about any physiological change but more the underlying reason why he needs to ‘chase the dragon’.

‘Oh yes! He admitted he needs relief to live with his growing morality problems. In other words, he fears being a scapegoat if the audit recommends police action. His knowledge of our operations could place all of us in jeopardy.’

‘Ahhh, I see.’

Lan sat back and thought about Cynthia’s briefing. She and her husband had been very foolish . . . very foolish indeed.

‘Before we discuss this further, do you think he’s responsible for these Elders seeking an audit?’

‘No, I’m pretty sure he’s not. I don’t know who set up the audit request. I tried to find out from the Accounting firm but they claim professional privilege. Any ideas how we can trace the fuckers?’

‘No, but let me think on it. Of course you should make your own inquiries. Why don’t you confront the Elders and demand an explanation, after all, it’s well within your rights . . . is it not?’

‘Yes, yes. We should’ve done that as soon as we found out. It’s a good suggestion; I’ll get back as soon as we find anything. Now, what about my son?’

‘Yes, he’s our immediate danger, that I agree. What to do? you seem convinced he may turn against you (Cynthia nodded vigorously) The point is you don’t have any hold over him do you? (Cynthia reluctantly nodded) ( Lan sighed) If he’s really upset, he’ll go to the authorities and try for some deal with the DA. (Thinking aloud) We have to stop him somehow!’

‘How about killing him?’

For a long second Lan stared at Cynthia, a little shocked by her statement.

‘Ummm . . . dear lady, that’s a crude way to solve problems. These days we’re much more sophisticated. I can’t believe a mother could even consider . . .’

‘Adopted child; he’s not my flesh and blood.’

If there’s any killing to be done I wouldn’t mind offing you bitch!

‘Even so, that would be messy and would only lead to a more intensive investigation into not only to who killed him, but the motive behind the act. Now you mentioned something about him being gay and a friendship with the person conducting the audit. Am I right? (Cynthia nodded) This has real possibilities. If indeed a relationship exists it may be an opportunity to threaten your son with harm to his partner. We find this approach more effective than . . . well, you know. What do you think?’

‘Yes, of course. Thinking back, when I introduced my son to the audit people I noticed a weird look passed between Paul and the young man, yes, I’m sure of it. What do you want me to do?’

‘Keep a close watch on the two people. In the meantime, I’ll put my resources on the trail to find the extent of any involvement. Do you concur?’

‘Yes, of course, but if we wait too long he may decide to go to the cops to save his own skin. How long do we wait?’

‘Not long. That’s my concern . . . not yours.’

7.2 Paul has a massage.

‘Yes, yes, come in . . . my name is Paul . . . and you are?’

‘Brian, Brian Harrison. Just show me where you would like me to set up.’

‘Perhaps the best place would be my study; it’s quite big and should take your equipment with ease. Here, just follow me.’

Leading the man down a corridor he opened a door and entered his study. Even with a large oak desk in one corner, the room was spacious. With off-white walls and a green pea carpet, the whole area invited relaxation. At one end he’d planned to install a conference table but now the empty space could easily accommodate the massage equipment.

‘Alright, you can set up here; what do you want me to do?’

‘Just strip down completely and use this towel to cover yourself. Come back as soon as you’re ready.’

As Paul undressed he thought about Jaimee’s boyfriend. It became apparent their relationship couldn’t amount to anything serious; however, this knowledge only enhanced his desire, and he couldn’t get Jaimee out of his mind. Paul hadn’t contacted Jaimee since their lunch and as every day passed he became more and more sexually frustrated. Masturbation gave some relief, but he rapidly tired of his right hand, and soon ached for human contact. A friend recommended a mobile home massage organization who, if required, would go the extra mile. Of course, nothing could be stated publicly and he became intrigued how the matter would be handled.

Now naked except for a small towel, he re-entered the study to find the table set up and waiting for him. The masseur Brian impressed. He’d changed into a white tee-shirt, tight white shorts, and no shoes. Although in his late thirties or early forties he obviously worked out. His muscled, trim, wiry body strained against the tee shirt. He had moderate body hair with small tufts poking out of the neck-line and a liberal display along his arms. He exuded masculinity and confidence.

(Nervously) Umm . . . what do you want . . .?’

‘Just lay down on the table on your stomach and relax. Have you ever had a massage before, Paul?’

Before answering, he climbed on the table and modestly kept the towel covering his bum. To his astonishment, the masseur whipped the towel away leaving him completely naked.

‘Ummm . . . no; I’ve thought about it often but, well, never got around to doing it. I’ve been feeling a bit down lately, and a friend suggested a good massage may be helpful. Do you have a lot of clients?’

‘A few. Most of them are regulars so I don’t have a lot of time to take on new clients . . . Can I ask if there’s any reason for feeling a bit down? I don’t want to pry but sometimes my clients feel like talking as the massage progresses. It can be very cathartic and, of course, very confidential. All my clients are guys and amazingly their problems are similar. Usually involving a romance of some kind. Just feel free to blab on if you want.’

‘Thanks . . . I guess you’re the boss then?’

‘Yes, I am.’

Paul winced as Brian poured warmed oil over his back. Then as Brian’s hands expertly manipulated his neck and shoulders, he started to feel relaxed. As he worked Brian softly explained what muscle group he massaged. First, he applied his hands to a muscle called the Trapezius which started beside the neck, across the shoulders and went down the full length of the back. Being prodded and stimulated, Paul could feel the tension ease and he gladly surrendered to the master technician. Falling gradually into a somnambulant state, Paul shut out Brian’s voice and just enjoyed the ride.

Gentle but masterful hands slowly worked all his back structure including the muscle grouping in both arms. Brian’s voice became somewhat hypnotic and seemed far away, until . . .

‘So Paul, this romantic problem? Was it to do with a girl or a boy?’

Lulled as he was, Paul vaguely heard the question and just as languidly responded . . .

‘Boyfriend.’

He missed Brian’s . . . ‘Aha!’

For an amazing fifteen minutes or so, Brian massaged Paul’s back and then moved to his legs, pouring liberal amounts of scented oil over the exposed flesh. Paul moaned as he felt his feet being gently kneaded and each toe caressed. Then Brian used both hands to slowly massage his calf muscles. Something about the slow ascent up his legs began to arouse Paul’s sexual awareness. All the time Brian’s seductive voice continued his commentary, but by now Paul simply succumbed to the increased erotic sensations pulsing through his body. As the hands continued their path upwards he sensed, rather than felt, his legs being parted. Moving slowly to his thigh muscles the hands worked their way towards his most private parts. Kneading the muscles expertly, Brian began to blow gently into Paul’s anus, causing him to groan softly.

Then he felt hands begin to massage his buttocks . . . kneading, pulling apart, pressing and again pulling apart. Then, with devilish intent, Brian intensified blowing air onto Paul’s exposed anal opening, causing him to squeal with pleasure.

The big man, now reduced to a quivering slave, and with a painful erection straining against the table, and leaking copious juice, and urgently seeking release . . . lay totally subservient to the master. He jumped and moaned as a finger stroked the flesh around his anal hole. Then came the whisper,

‘Paul, I’m going to gently insert something into you, that’ll cause stimulation of your prostate. It won’t hurt but will definitely increase your sexual pleasure. Now just raise your buttocks up a bit so the penetration is easy. I think you’ll love this . . . now, raise up for me . . .’

Complying, Paul elevated his bum and felt something slide deep inside. Automatically he tensed his muscles against the intruder and felt a jolt of pleasure. But what happened next had him moaning out loud. The thing began to vibrate sending wave after wave of intense craving through him. As his moaning increased in intensity, the masseur turned Paul’s inert body over, exposing a painfully erect penis, liberally covered in love juice.

Gaining some relief from his released penis, Paul continued to thrust against the item pulsing inside his anus and began to whimper. After several agonizing minutes, strong hands gently grasped his engorged manhood. His eyes glazing over with lust, Paul tried to touch himself only to have his hands thrust forcibly aside.

And now true agony began. With one hand gently massaging Paul’s manhood and the other stroking his perineum, Brian alternatively took Paul to the edge and back again. Paul lost count how many times he approached orgasm only to be denied release – a state of delicious pain. But Brian was an expert, a professional, and he knew just the right moment to allow Paul’s ravaged body to release. Like a tsunami approaching a coast, Paul’s orgasm reached its peak, and then with a loud shout he erupted. Preceded by an extremely intense wave of ecstasy, semen ejected over both men, and continued . . . and continued . . .

He almost passed out. Never before had he experienced such a height of pleasure. The massage, the orgasm, the vibrating stimulation, all combined to reach a level of relaxation even better than smoking the ‘dragon’. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he surfaced and realized Brian was endeavoring to clean up Paul’s mess.

With an almost evil smile, Brian asked,

‘Now . . . how was that?’

‘Bloody marvelous, you’re evil but wonderful. I don’t know whether I should ask but what about you? Do you want . . .?’

‘Not that I’m not tempted because you’re a very attractive man, but I have a girlfriend who takes care of me. But, if you feel inclined, tell me about your boyfriend troubles.’

So Paul, feeling a little light-headed and responsive, told Brian about his feelings for Jaimee, his existing boyfriend, and perhaps being a bit foolhardy, alluded to his business problems. Then feeling bold, he ventured,

‘I would like to learn your technique so I can pleasure my future partners. Would it be a problem if you impart just some of the secrets of your trade?’

‘(Laughing) No . . . not at all. In fact, it would be a pleasure. Erotic massage has lost its appeal in today’s binary world and many of the secrets of the past have been abandoned for more speedier relief. If you remember I started with your Trapezius muscle which is here (tracing a muscle outline across Paul’s shoulders and right down to his waist). This is a vital muscle as it supports the back, but up near the neck, it is an erogenous zone in males. You immediately felt relaxed (Paul nodded). After that . . . ‘

‘Yes, yes . . . I remember. But you did something with your voice that made me almost sink within myself.’

‘Yes, that’s very important and I was just coming to that.’

‘(Laughing) Sorry . . . I’ll shut it!’

‘OK. Some Tantric masseurs use humming or low voice vibration but I prefer to softly explain what’s happening. Using your voice in a certain way can lower any person into a deep peace of mind. Basically, it’s a form of hypnosis. Very, very effective.’

‘I vaguely remember.’

‘Next the toes. Whilst, not an erogenous zone in themselves, they’re a starting point to slowly move upwards to the client's private parts. Do you remember how you felt as I slowly moved upwards? you had a feeling of sexual anticipation didn’t you?’

‘Oh god yes! By that time I’d completely given myself to you. WOW!’

‘Believe me, Paul, I get pleasure in feeling you respond to my skills. It’s a bond that both the masseur and the client share. But next, you should be gentle with your partner's private areas. Males have a very erotic response to the prostrate being massaged. It’s the start of the male organism and when the vibrator tool is inserted it’s very pleasurable . . . as you know.’

‘Shit yes! I’ve never had that done to me before, and . . . and . . . just great! But what about the finale? you seemed to know when to take me to the edge and then back down. How do you do that?’

‘Experience and watching your breathing. As a male nears orgasm the stomach muscles contract and the breathing becomes shallow. It’s just experience, young man.’

‘Oh my god, Brian, look at me. I’m hard . . . ‘

‘(Laughing) I can see that. Would you like me to . . .’

‘(croaking) Please . . .’

Paul lay back down on his back with his shaft aggressively hard. Impossibly, juice flowed copiously even after the massive discharge previously. This time Brian knew Paul wouldn’t need much encouragement to climax. All he had to do was stroke Paul slowly and gently until he began to scream.

7.3 Jaimee calls.

As time passed without hearing from Paul, Jaimee became concerned; not just concerned at the silence, but because he also missed him. Missed his voice, missed his laughter, and missed perving on his wonderful body.

I know I don’t have any cause to feel anxious because we’re not lovers . . . just friends; but I upset him telling about Simon. I shouldn’t be doing this! The right thing to do would be to walk away and forget Paul. But I can’t . . . I just can’t. SHIT! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! I’m so fucking confused. I can’t cheat on Simon . . . I mean what would that prove? We’d become sordid little lovers in a sordid little affair. How long would it last . . . being furtive, cowering, and scared of being caught. No! NO! NO! . . . but what the fuck am I gonna do?

Anyway, he picked up his mobile and called Paul.

‘(flat) Hello, hello . . .Paul here.’

‘(Hesitant) Ummm Paul . . . It’s Jaimee. (Pause) . . . I haven’t heard from you, and . . . and I . . . shit Paul, I’ve been worried.’

‘So don’t, don’t worry. I’m OK, really . . . I’m OK.’

‘You don’t sound it!’

‘Look, I’ll be OK . . . shit! Who am I kidding? I’m just trying to sort myself out. I’ve got plenty on my mind now.’

Jaimee ignored any implication, particularly about business.

“I feel so bad Paul and I can’t explain it. I honestly don’t know what to do. I’m not winging because I’ve nothing to winge about. I just feel like shit!’

‘Yeah, me too. The thing is I’ve fallen in love with you Jaimee and I know I can’t have you. You’re a beautiful man, and it’s not just skin deep, you’re beautiful to the core and I don’t deserve you. How did I come to fall in love with someone who’s the noblest of noble Romans? I’m hurting but I’ll get over it. The reason . . .’

‘Now I feel worse, but I’m not gonna winge about my lot. I’ve hurt you and you don’t deserve to be hurt. As far as deserving, I don’t think I’m worthy to even walk behind you . . .’

‘What, so you can perve on my arse?’

‘Ha-ha. Seriously . . . umm . . . can we meet?’

“I don’t want to say yes, and don’t want to say no. I’m feeling raw, and seeing you probably wouldn’t be good for both of us . . . would it?’

‘No . . . no, I guess not. But we can’t go on like this. I want to see you and if I do I’m afraid I’ll weaken and rape you. Where does that get us? I sure as hell fuck don’t know.’

‘(Softly) Goodbye Jaimee.’

Jaimee stared at the empty phone in absolute confusion.

FUCK! I shouldn’t have called. I shouldn't have called. I made it worse. I’ve made it worse. What was I thinking? I’m being selfish! I’m being selfish. Trying to make myself feel better I’ve made Paul feel worse. Again I’ve hurt him. Why do I keep hurting people? I’m being unfaithful to Simon at least in spirit. When he finds out about Paul . . . if he finds out about Paul . . . he’s gonna be hurt . . . it’s my fault! Fuck, I feel so miserable!

Reluctantly Jaimee turned to the unfinished audit report which he must present to Frank by week’s end.