Idol Thoughts

Chapter Two

The Majordomo

(Make A Wish)

In the days following my meeting with Hyun-Ki I went about my routines as usual, wondering if and when he'd make contact again. He had assured me that it wouldn't take long to get the ball rolling on his end, but he'd also been extremely light on detail, and I still wasn't entirely sure what I was getting myself into. All I had to go on was the information laid out in his initial pitch, namely that I'd be getting filthy rich by having sex with celebrities. So far, so far-fetched. But then he'd shown me proof. 

As I stood in my kitchen, nibbling on a breakfast of rice and banchan, I replayed in my mind what I'd seen: A boy, identical to Lucas Wong, gazing dreamily into the lens of a camera while he bounced his hot, skinny ass like a low-rider on a thick, juicy cock. At the time I was completely convinced that it had been real, but as the days passed, doubt began to creep in. Had it actually been Lucas, or was it some kind of digital trickery, a deepfake? A troubled expression furrowed my brow.

Just then, the intercom buzzed, pulling me back into the moment. 

"Hello?" I said into the device, holding the button.

"Mr. Park, I'm so sorry to disturb you unannounced," came the speaker's tinny reply, "My name is Haruto Takahashi. I'm here on behalf of my employer, Hyun-Ki Choi. May I come in?"

"Oh, of course," I said, pushing the button marked 'Entrance'. "Take the elevator, apartment forty-seven."

A thrill of nervousness gripped me, butterflies in the stomach. I looked myself over in the mirror and adjusted the loose-fitting gown I was wearing, tightening it around my waist. It was a light, silken thing, which drew the eye naturally to my chiselled pecs and long, defined legs. Had I known I was about to have company I would have worn something less revealing, but considering the type of work I'd been offered, I doubted that a lack of modesty would be an issue. Moments later a gentle rap at the door announced Haruto's arrival.

"Good morning," he said, bowing low as I opened the door, arms rigid at his side. I invited him in.

Haruto Takahashi was a slight and slender young man with delicate Japanese features and neat, stylish hair. He had a distinct air of polite professionalism about him, and cut a striking figure in his modest, slim-fitting suit. He carried a compact briefcase with him, and slipped off his shoes courteously as he entered the apartment.

"Please, take a seat," I said, leading him to the lounge. "Can I get you anything, something to drink perhaps?"

"I'm grateful but no, thank you," said Haruto, sitting. He placed his briefcase on the coffee table, then entered the code and released its latches. Every movement was measured and precise. 

In my time as an escort I'd met many overly-formal corporate types, and had become quite adept at coaxing them into speaking casually with me in private. I suspected that this would not be easy with Haruto, however. Everything about the way he presented himself, from his outfit to the manner in which he modulated his voice, suggested that here was a man who gained a deep satisfaction from the disciplined way he comported himself.

"I understand that Mr. Choi had a personal meeting with you recently, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right," I said, sitting beside him. "It was four, no. Five days ago." I crossed my legs and reclined, studying my guest. He was good-looking, with pale skin and inviting lips, the kind of boyish, slightly effeminate young man that I guess you could call my type. My gown shifted ever so slightly as I settled, exposing more of my impressive physique, and I wondered if my close proximity would have any effect on him.   

"Very good," he said, withdrawing some papers from his briefcase, paying me no mind. Apparently not.

He glanced over the document then handed it to me. "This is a non-disclosure agreement. Do you know what that is? If you sign it, we'll be able to discuss matters more freely. I'm sure you can appreciate the requirement, and you must have questions." He held out a pen and, for the first time, he smiled. It was polite and controlled like the rest of him, but there was a warmth in his eyes, a kindness that I could tell was genuine. I took it and signed.

It was true that I had questions, and Haruto answered them as best he could. He spoke at length, and explained the nature of the opportunity before me in detail, which I will summarise for you now.

In short: Somewhere in downtown Seoul, nestled at the top of an otherwise incongruous, glass-walled high-rise, there existed a secret oasis of hedonistic, homosexual debauchery, where a diverse stable of gorgeous, talented hosts made their VIP clients' wildest dreams come true. Known only as 'Silver Moon', it was designed as an opulent outlet for the sexual desires of men in the public eye, a Palace of Pleasure, and if I were to sign on the dotted line, so to speak, I could join their ranks, becoming a host-in-residence. Luxurious accommodation and a very generous salary would be provided, along with a raft of other perks. 

He described the life that would await me there, telling me of the unforgettable nights I would spend serving a cast of actors, athletes, and K-pop stars, indulging them in all manner of extravagant, erotic delights. He told me of the days that I could spend exactly how I pleased, making use of the facility's numerous recreational amenities, or not. In my time off-the-clock, I could do as I saw fit. They even offered a complimentary councelling service, to ensure the contentment of their hosts. 

  "Tell me, what's your role in all of this?" I said, as I processed what Haruto had told me. "Are you one of the hosts?"

  "I was, for a time. Now I am the establishment's Majordomo," he said, with a note of pride in his voice. "For the past three years, I have ensured Silver Moon runs smoothly. I manage the diary, liaise with our clients, oversee the maintenance of the facilities, and provide a duty of care to our hosts."

  "So, you'd be my boss?"
  
  "Not exactly," he said, carefully. "Technically that would be Mr. Choi and the other members of the Board. I manage the operation on their behalf, so I suppose you could say I'm the leader of our little group."

  "And the other hosts, what are they like?"
  
  "They are all quite special in their own unique ways," he said, "which you will soon find out, if you choose to accept."

To be perfectly honest I was already sold. I was ready to say yes right there on the spot, but Haruto insisted that I at least take a short time to mull it over properly. 

  "Before we conclude today," he said, "I'd like to carry out a brief physical exam, with your consent."

I gave it, and Haruto removed a selection of items from his briefcase, lining them up neatly on the table. First came a simple metallic stethoscope, followed by a tightly-wound tape measure, a notepad, then two small glass containers with screw-top lids. One was empty, and the other contained a clear, gel-like substance. Finally he produced a pair of white latex gloves and slipped them on. 

  "Please stand, and remove your clothes," he said, pulling the gloves into place around his fingers with a snap. I did as I was told and let the gown slip from my shoulders. It fell to the floor, crumpling at my feet, and I stood there proudly with my chest out, hands on hips, presenting myself in all my naked, muscular glory.
  
Haruto stepped close and brought the stethoscope's cold, hard diaphragm to rest on my skin, making me shiver.

  "Aren't you supposed to breathe on it first or something?" I said, "Y'know, to warm it up. Look, you're giving me goose pimples!" 

  "Quiet please," he said, cocking his head to the side as he listened. We stood there in silence for a moment, close enough that I could smell the pleasant earthy scent of whatever fragrance he was wearing. When he was satisfied, he unhooked the device from his ears and returned it to the table, then scribbled something in his notebook.

  "I'm going to take your measurements now," he said, unfurling the tape measure. "Arms out."

He wrapped the tape around my chest, just below my armpits, and made a mental note of the measurement. Next came my hips, then my arms, and then my back. He worked swiftly and methodically, like a tailor measuring me for a suit, and as he moved around my body I could feel the smoothness of his gloved hands stroke against my naked skin, soft and arousing.

He knelt to measure my thighs, brushing my balls with the back of his hand, and I felt myself begin to harden just inches from his face. I watched him as he worked and wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through that tidy black hair of his, ruffling it. When he was finished with his inspection of my lower half, he stood and looked me in the eye.

   "I'll need to take all of your measurements," he said, reaching out to take my cock in his hand. "For our records, you understand." He stroked it gently, bringing it to life, then held it for a moment evaluating the weight. Next, he gripped it firm at the base and wrapped the tape around to check its girth, then laid it along the length, root to tip. Once he had what he needed he stepped away to record his findings. 

The unexpected surprise of his gentle touch on my cock had left me needing more. I reached down to stroke it for him, pulling on my balls and putting on a show. I wanted to get a reaction, to somehow disrupt that formal, controlled façade. 

  "Do you like this?" I asked, one hand behind my head as I played with myself. "Shall I... continue?"
  
  "Certainly," he said, matter-of-factly. "I'll require a sample of your semen, for-" 
  
  "For the records," I said.
  
  "Indeed. Here, take a seat. I'll assist."
  
It wasn't quite the reaction I'd hoped for, but I was eager to see what this curious and curiously attractive man had in store for me. I sat back with my legs spread, my cock pointing north and the most seductive expression I could muster on my sultry visage. Haruto dropped to his knees once again and poured some of the gel-like substance into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming it with the friction.

  "A lubricant," he said, "of my own design." He slathered the silky substance onto my cock. "I spent a month or two trying to perfect the formula, years ago, looking to create the ideal masturbatory aid. Just a short-lived teenage passion project. I think you'll enjoy it."

His hands, in their latex sheathes, glided up and down my manhood in long, luxuriant strokes. His special concoction felt incredibly smooth on my skin, and had a pleasant warmth that seemed to subtly amplify every sensation, like all of my nerve endings had been cranked up a notch. He varied his motions and the tightness of his grip with the skilful execution of a professional, and I threw my head back in ecstasy, amazed at how good it felt. 

I gasped and groaned at his manipulations, writhing around while Haruto worked diligently. Crashing waves of pleasure were washing over me, so strong they crowded out the rest of the world 'til there was just his hands on my aching, swollen cock, pumping and jerking with urgent speed. I came without warning, a sudden, blinding explosion that took me by surprise, but Haruto was ready, holding the empty container to the head of my cock as I unleashed rope after rope of thick, white spunk. He caught it all without missing a drop and I slumped into the couch, spent and exhausted, a sheen of fresh sweat glistening on my skin. Haruto looked pristine, not a hair out of place as he sealed the lid on his prize.

I suspect that, by now, you may have inferred from my glowing self-descriptors that I'm a textbook narcissist. I can't deny it. Since a young age I've been profoundly drawn to beautiful things and, naturally, this extends to my self as well. I love to be appreciated, to feel that validation from others. I suppose that's why I wanted Haruto to desire me, and why a huge, satisfied grin spread across my face when I noticed the hard-on faintly outlined in his pants. It felt like I'd won a small victory.

  "Thank you, Mr. Park," he said, pulling off his gloves, "that will be all for today. I can show myself out. Do give our offer some serious thought. I'll call again tomorrow with the contract, and you can give your answer."

True to his word, Haruto returned the next day and we sealed the deal with several signatures and a handshake. I had packed the previous night, my mind made up, and filled two suitcases with essentials. Haruto rolled them behind him as we left, leading me to a flashy white limousine parked around the corner. Ever courteous, he opened the door and I hopped in the back, where I found Hyun-Ki sipping a glass of champagne.

  "My boy!" He cried, "I'm so glad you'll be joining us! Your first day is all planned out. The Twins will give you the tour and get you settled, then tonight, oh ho! Well, you'll see. You're going to love it. But first, a toast." He poured another glass, handed it to me, and we drank to the future.

As we turned onto the highway, Seoul became a blur of grey, green and white, flashing by the windows under a clear blue sky. Hyun-Ki shuffled over to me on the smooth leather seats and put his arm around my shoulder. It was good to see him again, and I was reminded of how charming he'd been in our previous encounters. He had the reassuring air of a Daddy-type, and the handsome good-looks to fit that description.

  "We probably won't see each other again for some time," he said, stroking my arm. "Haruto does a fine job and my attention is usually required elsewhere, but I thought I should at least come and welcome the newest addition to our family." I placed my hand on his knee and moved it slowly up his thigh, bringing it to rest between his legs. 

  "Is that right? In that case, I suppose I should leave you with a lasting impression."
  
The vehicle's windows were fitted with one-way glass, which is probably for the best. Otherwise, the occupants of the cars stuck in traffic around us would have seen me on my knees with Hyun-Ki's cock in my mouth, sucking and slobbering on it like I was starved. When we finally arrived at our destination Haruto opened the door, and I stepped out onto the pavement wiping the last of Hyun-Ki's salty load from my lips. 

  "Give it your all, and enjoy yourself!" My new employer called after me, buckling his belt, as Haruto and I approached the building's entrance. It was an impressive erection, modern and towering, all glass and clean lines with a hint of greenery peeking over its apex that suggested some sort of rooftop garden. Inside, Haruto led me through the kind of anonymous, non-descript foyer that you might expect to find in any number of office blocks around this city, to an elevator tucked off to the side. Above it was a small sign featuring a silver crescent logo on a black background.

  "This will give you access to the top floors," he said, tapping a key card against a reader on the wall. He handed it to me, and the metal doors slid open. Inside was a panel with four numbered buttons. They were labelled:

  34: Residence
  35: Silver Moon (1f)
  36: Silver Moon (2f)
  37: Terrace
  
  "Go on up to the Residence, Mr Park," said Haruto, placing my luggage down beside me. "Ash and Jaden will meet you there. I must now attend to some business with Mr. Choi, but I will see you again later." 

He turned to walk away and I pushed the button, alone with my thoughts. The names that he'd mentioned were clearly Western, and I wondered who I was about to meet. A digital display counted the floors. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Everything was moving so quickly, but I knew that this was an experience I couldn't let pass me by. A minute later, the doors re-opened with a 'ding'. I stepped out into my new home, and the next chapter of my life began.