Author's note
I can't remember when I first thought of this idea for a story. It is a combination of my own fantasies and an absolute corruption of the potential rewards for the Golden Ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Introduction and Day 1: Annabel
Mr Snackfood was a canny operator. A fairly ordinary set of products but brilliantly marketed and targeted. His latest wheeze to sell his "delicious, tasty treats" was a shameless imitation of Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket scheme. The lucky winner of one of the five "fantastic opportunities" would win the holiday of a lifetime.
Things were at a very low ebb for me. Almost 30, single again, and not looking after myself at all. My background will become evident as my story unfolds. But somehow, despite the gloom and desperation that I felt at that time, life dealt me an Ace. My diet was mostly home delivery pizza and beer, but I thought I'd have a bit of variety and go for Snackfood for breakfast every day until the tickets were all accounted for. Having had one (no, not just one, far more) too many beers again I didn't even notice the ticket fall out of the latest packet and flutter to the kitchen floor. It was only the following morning, hungover as usual, that I spotted it.
The ticket positively shimmered in my hand when I picked it up. I had never seen anything so beautifully produced.
"This ticket entitles the holder to the holiday of a lifetime. Text this number:
07777 777777
to arrange your meeting with the Mr Snackfood representative. Tell no one at all of your win or the holiday offer may be invalid."
Not a difficult number to remember, I thought. And who have I got to tell anyway?
What does one say? After a few deleted attempts I came up with:
"Hi, I'm James, I've got one of the Golden Tickets. Please get in touch."
Within seconds, a request for my address was swiftly followed by an appointment fixed up for the same afternoon.
At precisely 3pm there was a sharp rap at the door. I opened it to find a smartly dressed gentleman of around 50. Clean shaven, about 5'10" and with a broad smile.
"Congratulations, James. You're our first winner. Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Alex. I could say I'm an employee of Snackfood Enterprises Ltd, but really I'm Mr Snackfood's right hand man, here to sort out your wonderful holiday."
"Yeah, great, pleased to meet you. Would you like a seat?"
I moved a pile of empty pizza boxes out of the way and gestured to the now empty armchair.
"Thanks, James. So there are four holiday options. Shall I run through them and let you see what you think?"
"Yeah, whatever."
My, on reflection, casual, rude, off hand approach, and my utter mess of a flat had not phased Alex at all. He proceeded as if talking to an important business associate.
"Option 1: we will take you and your special friend to any, ANY, music venue in the world. You choose the artist, and location and we will guarantee to obtain the best tickets in the house. In addition this would form part of a one week holiday in 5 star hotels of your choosing in that part of the world and as many trips and activities as we could fit into the week. Think Dame Tiri te Kanawa at Sydney Opera House, or Last Night of the Proms at the Royal Albert Hall. Anything!"
I'm afraid I hadn't been paying too much attention after the words 'special friend'.
"Can you give me a minute? I need the bathroom."
"Of course, James."
I didn't need the bathroom. I just didn't want to start crying in front of a complete stranger. I emerged after a while and when I did so, Alex was standing by the window.
"James, I must apologise. I have completely misjudged your situation from the moment I walked through your door."
I tried to say something but he held up his hand.
"James, I'll be honest with you. When I came in I thought 'geeky gamer', not surprised he's single. Then, when I looked around whilst you were in the bathroom, I saw some lovely photos of you with Zoe. Then I saw the cards of condolence. How long was it since you lost her? A few weeks I'd guess."
"No, eight months."
"You're not making much progress at moving on are you?"
"Hey, do you know it feels to lose your wife to breast cancer when you're both only 29?"
"James, I would never be able to appreciate how that would feel, I'm deeply sorry. But ask yourself, if it had been you instead of her, what would you want for the rest of her life?"
"I would want her to find someone else and have the children we'll never have."
"Exactly, you wouldn't want her to live like a nun. And I can't imagine that the beautiful, toned couple that I saw on honeymoon pictures would be living on your current diet?
James, I could offer you 3 more holidays similar to the first one. By the way they are Sports event for two, Cruise for two or Adventure holiday for two. But those aren't what's wanted right now. Option 5, however, is perfect. This is NOT the one we're going to be putting on the outside of our snack packs, I can tell you.
James, do you trust me? If so, you'll love what I'm offering, it is precisely what you need."
"Okay. I guess I do, and it'll be an adventure whatever happens."
"Great, I like your attitude. Firstly we'll fix a date. Last week of June? I need a little time to set things up. Secondly I'm going to send you a link to a questionnaire. Not just once but several days in a row. Please be completely honest on every response, and allow an hour or two every day for it. The more honest you are, the better the experience. I know it's a month away but I promise I will be outside your flat at 3pm on Saturday 23rd June to drive you to your dream holiday."
The links to the online questions started the very next day. The first day was lifestyle questions. Diet, alcohol, exercise. Not very impressive on my part. But towards the end there were some pictures of women, four per page, and I just had to click on the ones I found appealing. I could click on none, or all, or somewhere in between. Let me tell you now that I find athletic, slim blondes very attractive. I guess that's partly me, certainly social conditioning, formative experiences, who knows? Alex told me to be honest, so I was.
The next day's questions were more sexual. About previous experiences, willingness to be adventurous, some direct questions about what I enjoyed. (These were quite specific about oral and different positions, and got me quite turned on.) Then there were a few pages of "choice of four" again, but whoever was setting up the questions had clearly learnt from the previous day. I ticked at least two of the four every time.
The third day's set of questions was even more sexual. There were basically some blunt questions such as
"Had I ever done this or that?"
The responses were:
Yes, didn't like it
Yes, would try it again
Yes, loved it
No, couldn't imagine doing it
No, not sure
No, but would give it a try
After completing those, I was offered a few more four women on a page. What can I say? They were all gorgeous and very, very sexy. Cute blondes in swimsuits, tight jeans, shorts, mini skirts, I mean what's not to like?
The fourth day of questions was about my fantasies. In my deepest, darkest thoughts, what did I really want? Well, what man doesn't fantasise about sex with more than one woman? Some of my other fantasies involved domination, submission, pleasure, denial. Would I have admitted to these whilst Zoe was still alive? Probably not, but as Alex had put to me, in effect, would Zoe want me to live like a monk?
To finish with, I had the choice of utterly gorgeous women on screen. However, this time I had to rank order their outfits for the same woman four times on each page. This part of the online questions took me longer than most because I just couldn't decide! Every single picture was of a gorgeous, hot blonde in either a bikini, hot pants, a mini skirt, or a gorgeous evening gown. How can a man who keeps his brain between his legs decide between one delicious option and another? If someone offered me only my fourth best option on each and every question, I'd have given anything to accept.
The net effect of these questions was that I was certainly very horny and I was starting for the first time to think about women other than Zoe. Probably a good thing, I guess.
------
Well, a month or so and many pizzas later I was in no better shape than when Alex had first met me, and despite the Golden Ticket things hadn't changed that much. Still drinking too much beer, and eating too much take away. 23rd June came round pretty soon and at 3 pm on the dot, I heard a toot, toot from outside. I should say that Alex had sent me a text reminding me of our forthcoming meeting and to be ready, with minimal baggage, everything to be provided.
I walked out into the road to see Alex leaning on a classy Jaguar, with his characteristic big smile.
"Welcome to your adventure! There are a few rules you'll have to obey before you step aboard. You'll need to give me your phone - no phone, no internet all week. And you'll have to wear this blindfold too. I'm taking you to a very exclusive location, and I'm afraid I don't want you know where it is."
"Okay, fine with me. I'll just chill."
We set off pretty quickly and were soon on the motorway. Obviously I couldn't see where we were but despite the tinted windows, any fool can tell the difference between North and South. From my house in Reading, it was clear we were heading East, then round the M25, as I could feel the pleasant June warmth on my right. Then, as the day progressed and cooled, we were obviously heading for somewhere North East of London, probably Suffolk. After meandering slowly down many country lanes we finally arrived, after dark, at some gates or a barrier, and after being let through, the car stopped and Alex let me out. He put his hand affectionately on my shoulder.
"James, my dear boy, life is what you make of it, and this is a golden opportunity to do something special. Enjoy yourself and make sure you think about the long game, not just this week.
Your room is here on the right. Sleep well!"
With that, dumping my minimal luggage on the ground and with no opportunity to reply, he reversed the Jag out of the drive and disappeared into the dark.
I managed to find the door, through another, and found myself in a sumptuous bedroom. An enormous double bed beckoned to me. I was tempted to fall straight in but explored far enough to find the cavernous bathroom. Enough room to swing many cats, and certainly enough to clean my teeth, fling my clothes to the floor and tumble into bed. I don't even remember falling asleep.
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Day 1: Annabel
"Good morning James! Time to wake up!"
Normally I would shiver off last night's excesses and regret the last, second last or whatever beers, but today was different. A clearness of thought, and unusually a clarity of vision. But was this before me am apparition or still a dream? On my bed, sitting cross legged next to me was the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen in my life. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, on her top half she was wearing a tight, tubular piece of white material which showed off her tanned, slim midriff. And the cut off denim shorts accentuated her long slim legs, bare all the way down to her toes.
As opening lines go, 'Hi, I'm James' wasn't really very impressive, but I was still pretty sleepy.
"I know who you are", my lovely new acquaintance replied, "I'm Annabel, your companion for today. Welcome to your holiday of a lifetime!"
