More than just a massage. [Cypher’s Tales]

I opened the letter.

It read: “I am not surprised that Harvey hired you and I have a feeling that you will do well as a permanent employee of the Great Pine Golf Club. I find myself agreeing with his assessment of you wholeheartedly. As I discussed with you, Harvey is a good friend of mine and as a good friend I hope to see him well on his 70th birthday. This money is yours. Think of it as a gift but I would like to offer you more. Depending on your cooperation, it could be substantially more. The week after next is Harvey’s birthday, coincidentally, on the day of your appointment with him. Maybe you can see where this is going. I would like for you to make Harvey's birthday memorable for him, in whatever way you can imagine he would enjoy. Privacy in this matter is important to me, and I would only ask that, if you rejected this offer, you keep this request to yourself. Likewise, if you accept this offer, we can keep that between us too. I hesitate to put a price on this request, I think that best left up to you, but I am happy to negotiate, and I could be persuaded substantially depending on the effort given to your fulfillment. Again, you may reject this offer at your own discretion, and I would hope that if you did, you would continue business as usual. I would prefer not to speak about this matter in person during our next appointment, but I wanted to give you enough time to contemplate this request.”

I was stunned and confused. Max had been right… almost. He wasn’t right in the ‘I'm going to get $300 an hour for giving happy endings to creepy old men’ kind of way. No… it was much more than $300 if the $5000 gift was anything to go by.

Surprisingly, my first reaction to this letter was not ‘no way, forget it, I'm a straight man’ it was... ‘how much?’. I’m not gay, despite people thinking I am by the way I look. How much would it take for me to do… I don’t even know, I guess anything… do anything to another man? Especially an old one. $10,000? clearly that wasn't off the table if he gave me $5000 as a gift. 15? Would I do that for 15k. I don't even know what _that _is. A hand job? For $15k… Wow, I can't believe I am actually thinking about it, I thought to myself. Surely, he was suggesting more than a hand job which was starting to turn my stomach and make me feel sick. Strangely, not in a disgusted way. In an indecision-filled ‘financial’ kind of way.

Knowing that this kind of thing is, or could be, part of this job is terrifying, can I even go back to the club now? Not to mention. I would have to go to the club this Friday and massage Harvey again, all while contemplating what I would do to him or let _him _do to me the following week.

I needed to sleep, I was far too tired to be thinking about this.

That night I dreamt about the strange encounter that I had, except the dream contained the wild thoughts I had been contemplating, and I woke the next morning confused about everything. It was Wednesday. No client tonight, or tomorrow. $6000 in cash on my dresser and another $600 in my account from Harvey. What was going on? In two days, I had made over 7k. I stood to keep earning good money for just continuing to do what I was doing. Or… I stood to make ‘real money’ doing just one thing, one time… would it be once? Was this something that I would be asked for again? Regularly? Could I even do it?

The Joke $20 is $20 ran through my head which of course I would not do… but 20k… I don't know.

I chose not to tell Max about what I had been asked to do that evening when we were messaging about a party another one of our friends was putting together. I didn’t want him gloating that he was right. I also—and quite revealingly—didn’t want him getting jealous or telling me what to do with my predicament. Hell, I don't even know what to do.