I generally don’t cruise. But last night I cancelled my plans for the ballet and called up Delmore, Little John’s house manager (house as in ho’ house). “Delmore, I wander if you could do me a favor.” He said, “How’bout you coming by visiting us?” I said, “No, that’s doing you a favor. I think I’m owed one.” I didn’t owe him a thing. I’ve let them use me without as much a dime in recompense.
Delmore said, “Clients, they been asking for you and like I gotta tell them something or they gonna think you at somewhere else and that ain’t good for business.”
“How many?’ He said, “Twenty-seven.” “I think you’re off by ten at least.” Delmore said, “I got it all here. Come see for yourself.” I trusted his numbers as much as I’d trust the gypsy astrologer down the street.
“Delmore, I just cancelled an evening at the ballet ,” “And you called to tell me?” I said, “No, I was, well, I thought maybe you might know of a bar where I could go and sort of cruise.” “For what?”
“A spanking.” He said, “You don’t have to do that to get spanked.” I said, “I need to cruise. Find someone I don’t know.” He said, “Lemme save you some time. I know a guy. You go over to his place. He’ll take care of you, but it gonna cost you..” I asked, “Is he good?” Delmore said, “That depends. You may like it. You may not. But it’ll be hot.” The money was not the problem.
About an hour later I walked into a downtown apartment, one of those boring one bedroom boxes that New York seems to pride itself. The guy was wearing a leather mask and leather jock strap, but then I was expecting a boy in penny loafers.
I looked around the place. He certainly had equipment. Some of it didn’t particularly interest me. I said, “He told you what I wanted?” He said, “You wanna get hand spanked.” I said, “No monkey business. Just your hand.”
“You telling me what to do?” I said, “I’m paying you. I can walk out or we can do business.”
It was hard to see his eyes behind the goofy leather mask, which only made things more weirder. He took the money and said, “I want you to hold my cock while I spank you.” I said, “Sure, but that’ll cost you.” He said, “Who do you think you’re talking to?” I showed him the 38.
I left the place. I don’t know what got into my head. Every once in a while you do something dumb. At least I got all my money back.
End of Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 142, by Carrie
Diary of a Rich Girl to be continued…
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