The Harrington Hotel Ch. 03

So after work I decided to go see Paul at the bar. Since Thursday nights are usually slow he and I would have time to talk. Plus, I was dying to find out what he meant by 'getting to know me better'.

I breezed thru the sliding glass doors and strolled thru the lobby towards the bar. A large sign on the right caught my attention: "Welcome Missouri Synod Conference." I stopped dead in my tracks.

A chill ran up my spine and I said to myself: 'Oh my God -- the Lutherans are here!!'

I looked at the dates for the conference. Today was the last day.

Good, I thought, maybe they're gone by now.

When I entered the bar and saw the large crowd my heart sank and I thought, 'Damn, no such luck -- they're still here!'

I scanned the bar and saw one open stool. As I walked towards it I could see Paul rushing back and forth behind the bar making and delivering drinks. I couldn't remember seeing him so busy.

I squirmed my way between the bar stool and the big man seated to the left. He was engaged in an animated conversation with the guy next to him and didn't even notice me sit down.

I had barely situated myself when Paul set down a coaster and a frosty mug of beer in front of me.

He gave me a smile, and rolled his eyes as if to say "I didn't expect all this when I came to work today!" I nodded and smiled back at him.

I swallowed two mouthfuls of the cold brew then sat back and listened to the boisterous crowd and scanned the people seated on the stools in the back bar mirror.

They looked the same to me: all of them white, middle-aged to older men dressed in casual, neatly pressed print shirts decorated with flowers, pineapples and other assorted fruits and nuts.

They were shirts we would never carry in the clothing store where I worked in the mall.

Even their faces all looked the same. One after another I could barely see any discernible differences in their corn-fed, middle America whiteness.

The man sitting on the stool beside me was no exception. He appeared slightly older than the rest of them.

When I studied his face I saw he was staring at me as well. I immediately looked away.

He turned to me and said, "Are you old enough to be out this late at night, my son?"

I wanted nothing to do with this crowd of holy-rollers. I try to avoid 'religious' people if I can help it. I'd experienced more than enough self-righteousness and holier-than-thou crap growing up and was sick of it.

I wanted to shut down this conversation before it ever began.

Turning to him, I answered his question with one of my own: "Isn't it past your bedtime, mister?"

The bemused expression on his face never wavered.

"Your Lord and Savior does not appreciate a smart-aleck, boy!"

The shock that coursed thru-out my body made me shiver.

I was paralyzed by the sound of his voice. My body suddenly cringed with fear. His voice was identical to that of the Pastor of my old church.

The Pastor I was forced to endure for a year of confirmation classes - the Pastor who bullied me and my classmates Saturday-after-Saturday seemingly taking great pleasure in inflicting humiliation upon us all.

The man who more than anyone else in my life convinced me there was no God.

If God truly existed, how could He possibly allow such a vile, drooling, fire-and-brimstone maniac teach impressionable children?

My eyes searched the back bar mirror for an open bar stool away from this man...there were none.

When I raised my glass to drink, my hand was trembling so hard I almost spilled beer.

Suddenly, a thought popped into my head. John, you're an adult now...calm down...this man cannot harm you in any way as long as you don't let him!

The nervousness was gone. I relaxed.

I turned to him and said, "I disagree, I think my 'Lord and Savior' has a wonderful sense of humor."

The expression on his face never changed. He slowly raised his glass and took a healthy swallow of red wine.

"You're an impudent young man, aren't you?" he calmly said to me.

I was in no mood to play games. All I wanted to do tonight was to visit with Paul, not to hook-up with anyone...especially some religious nut-bag. I decided it was time for a more outrageous approach with this man.

My hand was steady when I took another swallow of beer.

I leaned in close and with all due seriousness said to him, "Look old man, I am gay - I like men...I love having queer sex with a lot men!"

I waited for shock and indignation from him. I wanted him apoplectic with rage.

His big blue eyes slowly scanned me from my shoes to the top of my head. That damn little smirk plastered on his face never wavering.

"Son," he said softly, "obedient boys that serve their Lord and Savior on their knees are equally as loved as the men standing before them."

Huh? What? Does he mean what I think he means?

I almost leaped off the bar stool when his large hand suddenly squeezed my thigh.

His head was now inches from mine. A strange twinkle in his beautiful blue eyes.

He whispered, "Are you an obedient boy who serves your Lord and Savior on your knees?"

I was speechless. I had lost all control of this conversation. Worse yet, the combination of his hand on my leg and his taunting question caused my prick to become semi-erect inside my briefs.

I saw his right hand on the bar sliding towards me. He lifted the hand long enough for me to see a hotel key card.

He said softly but with a menacing tone of authority, "Room 1736, you will enter the door at exactly 9:45...one minute late and I will take you over my knees and give you a sound spanking."

A rush of blood raced to my face and prick. The boner inside my briefs throbbed. My breath caught in my throat. My hand was no longer steady; I spilled beer when I tried to take a drink.

I cursed my weakness for strong, authoritarian men...the attraction and arousal I felt whenever I found myself in their company.

His eyes bore a hole thru my skull and I couldn't look away.

"You will address me as 'Reverend'..." he said. It was definitely not a request. "When I tell you to do something, no matter what it is, you will immediately answer 'Yes, Reverend' and obey my command...do you understand me, boy?"

I was stunned into silence.

My brain screamed 'Run, John, run - get away from this freak'!

The expression on his face never wavered.

"Son, are you prepared to be in the service of your Lord and Savior tonight?"

What he was saying to me sounded sacrilegious and insane. I searched the face and eyes of this supposed man of the cloth for signs of dementia and saw nothing but a blissful calmness...a virtual sea of tranquility.

"Son, you are struggling with your inner demons, are you not?" he said softly. "What I am saying to you conflicts with everything men such as myself have taught you since you were old enough to grasp the concept of good versus evil, am I right?"

It was the first statement he made that sounded logical and sane. But did I really want to play this mind-game with him?

"Y-Yes, Reverend," I reluctantly answered.

"Religions, in general, and my religion in particular have blindly accepted the notion homosexuality is morally repugnant and against the teachings of our Lord and Savior, am I right?"

"Yes, Reverend," I agreed but remained dubious of this man's intentions.

"Several biblical scholars have hypothesized the Apostle Paul struggled his entire life with his sexual identity," he said. "They claim his rigid dogma and obvious disdain for women in his writings came from a life-long self-loathing due to his attraction to men...in fact, there are some who say he may have been the very first closet-queen in recorded history."

I briefly expected lightening bolts to come raining down upon us from the heavens for his blasphemy.

He continued: "Son, there is nothing new or modern about same-sex attraction...homosexuality has been around as long as mankind itself...you and I are neither special or unique...my attraction to you is as natural as another man's attraction to a pretty woman..."

He's attracted to me? My head was spinning. His circular logic was making me dizzy.

He now sounded sane to me. I accepted he was sincere in his beliefs. But in the dark recesses of my skeptical mind, I couldn't help but wonder if his clever words were simply a ruse to get me to his room and have his way with me?

His hand rose high on my thigh until it was inches from my throbbing bulge. I suddenly prayed his hand would brush against it - touch it -- squeeze it -- stroke it...

"Look at me, son," he said and I instantly gazed into his hypnotic eyes.

"I have devoted my entire life to our Lord and Savior...I am a true believer He uses me as His live vessel...through me He expresses His thoughts and His desires...most important of all, He uses me to spread His words of love and hope to non-believers such as yourself..."

My heart quickened. His words sounded both crazy and beautiful to me. His gentle nature and the peacefulness of his blue eyes convinced me I could trust this man.

"I ask you again, son, are you prepared to be in the service of your Lord and Savior tonight?"

The words seemingly rolled off my tongue. "Yes, Reverend, I am prepared to be in the service of my Lord and Savior tonight," I said

***

I stared blankly at the closed elevator doors while his final words to me reverberated thru my mind.

"You are one step closer to redemption, my son."

While my intellect told me 'The Reverend' is just another man and is no closer to God than any other human being, he had awakened memories of my childhood Pastor shouting rants of God's invincibility: He not only is constantly watching us, but also knows our every thought and aspiration...scary stuff if you think about it.

When I stood before room 1736 and checked the time on my cell phone and saw I was two-minutes early, I sighed a breath of relief. I had no doubts whatsoever 'The Reverend' would follow thru on his threat to spank me if I was late.

Suddenly I thought about Paul...no, not the Apostle, but the bartender downstairs...my new friend...the man who sincerely wants to get to know me better.

I wondered if he saw me leave the bar? He was so busy I didn't want to bother him.

The voice in my head I understood to be my conscience spoke up: Oh really, John? You didn't want to 'bother' him, huh? Weren't you trying to slither away from him unnoticed? You didn't want him to think less of you for going off to yet one more strange man's room for another in a long string of anonymous sexual hook-ups, isn't that right?

No, no, that's not it, I argued with myself. Paul understands me...he knows I'm just 'sowing my wild oats' -- he said so himself.

And you thought tonight would be different, didn't you? asked the voice. You came here simply to talk with Paul after his shift, right?

Yes, that was the plan. I had no intention or desire to meet anyone tonight...it just kinda happened...

You disgust me, said the voice. Not only are you a weak-willed, cum-slut little whore, but you have the brazen audacity to lie to yourself about your weakness for male flesh. You don't deserve a friend like Paul...quite frankly, how do you even live with yourself?

I checked the time. It was exactly 9:45. The key card for the room was in my hand, but I was unable to move my arm. I was frozen in place.

My heart pounded as the blood raced thru my veins.

Maybe this is not such a good idea after all, I thought. I don't know what I will find on the other side of the door. This is NOT your typical hook-up with a businessman, John - far from it - the man waiting inside the room could very well be certifiably insane.

A sudden thought came to mind. A phrase so foreign to me I couldn't remember reading or hearing it before.

"Salvation comes only to those with the faith and courage to seek it out."

What does that mean? Salvation from who or what? Why did I think of that right now?

I heard it again: "Salvation comes only to those with the faith and courage to seek it out."

I was suddenly able to move. I checked the time: it was 9:47.

As I entered the room, I was awash with an inner peace I hadn't experienced since childhood.

***

The inside hallway was mostly dark. A faint light from somewhere within the room allowed me to find my way.

When I was fully inside the room I saw the source of the light. It was the ceiling light that normally would shine down and spotlight the work desk that were in all of the rooms at The Harrington. However, the desk had been moved aside.

Those desks are heavy, I thought. The Reverend must have had help moving it.

The Reverend was standing directly beneath the light. I wasn't sure what I was looking at so I squinted to narrow my focus.

OH MY HELL...The Reverend was naked, his head bowed, his hands clasped together on his chest.

Is he praying? I wondered.

A shiver raced up my spine. I wondered: Oh-my-God...what have I gotten myself into this time?

I considered turning around and running out the door but simply stood there dumbfounded.

I didn't know what to think anymore...one moment I thought him crazy the next perfectly sane and now this...

When my eyes became accustomed to the bright spotlight The Reverend appeared almost mystical...spiritual...he looked so peaceful and calm I found myself relaxing as well.

Something wasn't quite right though. At first I thought he hadn't positioned himself beneath the light the way he'd intended. His bowed head was mostly in darkness.

When my eyes lowered to follow the narrow beam of light my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Oh my God...the erection jutting straight out from his belly was brilliantly illuminated allowing me to clearly see every nuance of his manhood right down to the thin purple vein that ran the entire length of it.

I stood mesmerized by it's beauty and majesty. This is what he wanted me to see. The spotlight was directed on his manly cock and I couldn't take my eyes off it.

My own prick hardened inside my briefs. I was suddenly aware of how swollen my balls had become.

He finally spoke: "Come closer, my son."

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my reverie. I raised my eyes to search his face but he mildly scolded me.

"No, my son, keep your eyes trained on my cock...it is the sole reason you came to my room tonight -- the hunger in your eyes to serve your Lord and Savior on your knees is unmistakable."

A cold shiver raced up my spine. My brain became a whirling dervish of odd thoughts and unnatural emotions.

Yes, this is weird and surreal, but is this really any stranger than anything else you've done inside these rooms?

Is this any different than the times men insisted you call them "Daddy"...or for that matter, the times they called YOU "Daddy"?

Besides, you don't believe in God, what harm is there in playing along with him? Jesus Christ, John, you haven't had a boner this stiff in a long, long while. The Reverend just might have the most beautiful cock you've ever seen.

I found myself saying, "Yes, Reverend" and moved within a few feet of him.

Oh my hell. I was in for one more shock. When I was closer to him, I saw he wasn't totally naked...no, affixed around his neck was a crisp, white cleric's collar...the symbol of his faith and profession.

All I could think was 'Well, why the hell not? Is that any stranger than the spotlight on his cock?' and quickly obeyed his command to keep my eyes focused on his manly cock.

"Remove your coat and tie," he said softly.

"Yes, Reverend," I answered and promptly obeyed him.

I folded the tie and placed it inside the suit coat pocket. I draped it over a nearby chair then stood before him again, head bowed, my eyes staring his long pole of flesh.

"Remove your shoes and socks," he said.

"Yes, Reverend," I replied and did as I was told.

When I was standing before him again, he said, "Unbutton your shirt -- slowly - then take it off," he said.

His voice had a calming effect on me...or was it the sight of his gorgeous penis? My hands were perfectly steady as I opened my shirt then removed it.

The narrow beam of light on his manly cock somehow seemed to grow brighter.

I laid the shirt over my suit coat and resumed standing before him.

"Excellent, my son, your Lord and Savior is pleased with your obedience."

I took it as a compliment and said, "Thank you, Reverend."

"Open your slacks and push them to the floor," he continued.

"Yes, Reverend," I automatically replied.

I suddenly became nervous. After complying with his command I would be left standing before him wearing my skimpy, string bikini briefs and he would be able to see my arousal tenting-out the tiny briefs. I could already feel pre-cum seeping thru the cotton fabric.

I took a deep gulp of air then opened my belt and unfastened the slacks. When I pulled down the zipper, the noise seemed to reverberate off the walls of the room. I never realized how sexy and dirty the sound of a zipper being lowered could be.

I pushed the slacks to the floor and stood before him acutely aware that my string, bikini briefs could barely contain my straining and pulsating erection. Not to mention the quarter-sized cum stain on the crotch.

I suddenly saw clear fluid leaking from his cock slit and it made me warm all over: He was just as excited as I was.

"Your Lord and Savior enjoys what He sees, my son," he said.

"T-Thank you, Reverend," I replied thru irregular breathing.

"Now show me His creation, my son," he said.

"Uhhh, I don't know what you mean, Reverend," I admitted.

"Lower those cute little briefs to your knees and display your boyish prick to me."

Boyish prick? I liked it...sure sounds better than 'needle-dick'.

"Y-Yes, Reverend," I said then took a deep gulp of air and pushed down the briefs to the tops of my knees.

I focused hard on his cock. I didn't want to see the expression on his face. Too many men laugh when I expose myself.

I waited to hear either a snort of derision, or a cutting insult about its size.

Instead, I heard "Ohhh, how cute...isn't that the most precious thing?"

He could have been talking about a newborn baby or a puppy dog.

"Ohhh, very interesting...your Lord and Savior chose not to have you circumcised..."

Actually, it was my parents decision...a fact that has always bothered me since my older brother had been circumcised. Why him and not me?

"You have magnificent nipples for a boy..."

I knew they were longer than normal for a boy and I hated when men made comments about them.

"...and your aureoles are quite puffy, too -- like little titties on a pubescent girl."

Huh? What? No one has ever said THAT to me!

I suddenly felt defensive. "No, no, I work out - I lift weights and do a lot of push-ups."

He either didn't hear me or didn't care.

"Turn around and display your backside to me."

"Y-Yes, Reverend," I said dejectedly knowing what his next comment might be.

"What a cute little bubble-butt...firm and round...like ripe apples ready to be plucked."

I hung my head in embarrassment. Yes, I guess my hips and ass are not very manly.

"Look into my eyes," he suddenly commanded.

"Yes, Reverend," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

I raised my eyes to his expecting to see unbridled lust...instead I saw understanding and compassion.

"It is clear to me you are a troubled boy...that you have not accepted the special gifts bestowed upon you by your Lord and Savior..."

"I, uh, don't know what you mean, Reverend," I said.

"It's alright, son, we'll talk about that later..."

Something on the wall above his head caught my eye. What is that?