Meet Your Mate 2

Chapter 2

Tilden wiped his hands on his trousers for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was. He was a top. As a top, he was supposed to be cool and collected, at least outwardly, not a sweaty palmed man, pacing around the trays of finger food in the greenroom. He stole a glance at the other tops in the room, the competition so to speak. There were twelve tops and only ten perspective partners or brats as the show liked to call the young men. Milton had given Tilden a brief lecture on why the show had chosen the nomenclature of brat over submissive, but Tilden had frankly been too nervous to absorb most of the details, his mind focused on the reality that two tops would go home tonight without a brat. Tilden would never have entered this crazy game, but now that he had he desperately wanted a young man to take home.

 A tall, blond man was talking with a thin man from the Indian subcontinent. Tilden couldn’t distinguish Mumbai English from the accent of Islamabad, but if he had to guess, he would say Indian. They seemed to both be doctors, at least from the snippets of their conversation that Tilden could hear over the background chatter. The blond man monopolized the conversation with tales of shoulder reconstruction on major league pitchers. 

Across the hors-d'oeuvres tray, a freckled faced man, who looked hardly old enough to be out of high school, snorted. “He sure thinks he’s hot stuff. He only works on one species. I’d like to see him neuter a sugar glider.”

“A sugar glider?” 

“Small nocturnal mammal that some insane people decided would make a good pocket pet. I’m Brad Roberts, by the way. I’m a vet if you haven’t already guessed.”

“I’m Tilden Blake—college professor.”

“Intimidating group, isn’t it?” Brad said, surveying the other ten men in the room.

“Hmm.” Tilden nodded.

“Do you see the African American guy in the corner with the bottle of water? You can almost see the muscles through his T-shirt. He was on the men’s gymnastics team four years ago, won a silver medal on the pommel horse at the Olympics.”

“November seems a bit chilly for a T-shirt.” Tilden looked down at his own blue jeans and burgundy open necked long sleeve polo. He’d been going to wear khakis and an oxford shirt which Sheldon had said screamed stodgy college professor. Instead, Sheldon had dressed him in slightly worn jeans and styled his hair in an artfully windblown position, using enough hairspray that Tilden feared he might self-combust if a match were struck within two meters of him. Tilden felt self-conscious, but Sheldon insisted he looked like a ruggedly handsome top.

“Spoken like a true top.” Brad laughed. “A sweater would hide all those beautiful muscles.”

“Well, at least that skinny guy over by cookies doesn’t look like a male model.”

“Yeah, but he manages one of the most successful hedge funds in New York. His portfolio is worth more than some African countries’ budgets.”

They were interrupted by an authoritative voice. “Gentlemen, please. May I have your attention.”

A burly, dark haired man was standing in the center of the room, waiting for their attention. He had earlier introduced himself as Jack, the coordinator for the tops.

“In a minute I’ll need you to file into the studio and take your seats. Remember you’ll be sitting behind one-way glass. Please take your places according to your assigned numbers. The first six numbers are in the front row, seven through twelve in the back. The brats and the studio audience will be able to see you, but you can’t see them. All the brats have seen your information sheets, but this is the first time they will find out your names. Each brat will have a chance to ask three questions. After the question period, they will select their top. Good luck, gentlemen!”

Tilden had number five. He noticed as he filed in that he would be sitting between the vet and top number four whom he hadn’t met. Number four was tall with flaxen hair and brilliant blue eyes. He reminded Tilden of the men in the travel brochures advertising romantic cruises in the Norwegian fjords and invigorating hikes in the Swiss Alps. The twelve men took their seats in a quiet, orderly fashion.

“I’ll bet they’ll need Border Collies to get the brats in their chairs,” a top joked from the second tier of seats.”

“They’ll need more than that, I bet,” another top commented. “There’s probably at least one vomiting in the bathroom and another sobbing on some poor Good Samaritan's shoulder.”

The vet turned to Tilden and mouthed, “Arrogant jerk.”

Tilden smiled, relieved that he wasn’t the only one who thought that comment was in poor taste. He was feeling a little queasy himself and took a few sips of his bottle of water to wet his mouth.

A man with a studio ID hanging from a lanyard around his neck motioned for silence. “We’re on the air in five.”

The room was silent for the five seconds then the voice of the show’s host came blaring over the speakers. “Welcome to the second Meet your Mate: Top and Brat Special Edition. Today we have ten brats who will select from twelve tops. Let the selection begin.

“Our first brat hails from the sunny state of Florida. He works as a groundskeeper for the Miami-Dade County parks department. His hobbies include deep sea fishing, beach volleyball, and golf. His first question is to top number three.”

Tilden craned his neck to see top number three, a dark haired man with shoulder length hair. He was wearing tight leather pants and a gray silk shirt. Tilden thought he’d introduced himself as a nightclub owner.

“As a nightclub owner, would you allow your brat to participate in all the activities in your club?”

“Everything but what goes on in the bathroom behind closed doors.”

A few tops chuckled at that comment.

The top continued, “Seriously, I would expect my boy to participate in my business activities: come to the club every evening and mingle with the guests. An introverted boy would find life with me difficult.”

The questions continued, some frivolous including a question about a top’s favorite color and other more serious questions about implements and discipline strategy. No questions had been directed to Tilden by the first two brats.

“Brat number three currently resides in Seattle. He came to this country with his parents fifteen years ago as a political refugee from the Republic of Texas. He works for a nonprofit organization helping asylum seekers resettle in the Pacific Northwest. His hobbies include crossword puzzles, mountain climbing, and reading romance novels. His first question is for top number five.”

“From reading the mini bio provided, I understand you live with two other tops. How do you feel having other tops around will affect your discipline strategy, and would you let the other tops discipline your brat?”

Tilden smiled and rubbed his chin. “I don’t get an easy one like what’s my favorite color.”  Tilden could hear a faint laugh from the studio audience, and he paused before he continued. “I’ve had the pleasure of watching two couples for six years and three years respectively manage a power exchange relationship. Does this affect my discipline strategy? I’m sure it does. I’ve been able to see what works and what doesn’t, and I have experienced tops and brats to consult if I’m unsure. Of course having brats in close proximity will give my young man more opportunity to get into mischief, but it will also give him an experienced example to follow. We do have house rules in place about boys implementing the domino theory. These, of course, will remain in force. I expect my boy to respect the other tops, but major discipline is usually handled by the brat’s partner. I’ve swatted my housemates’ brats or put them in a corner, but I’ve never put them over my knees to spank them. I can’t say there would never be a situation where I wouldn’t mete out major discipline, but it would have to be exceptional. I expect the same would happen for my brat. I hope this answers the question. I can see where three tops could be very daunting.”

Tilden could hear the muffled laughter from the brats at his last comment. Tilden sat back and took a long drink of water. He hoped the idea of three tops didn’t scare all the boys away. Brat number three’s next question was to top number seven.

“As a member of your state legislative body and an active member of the Socialist Front Party, do you think being openly in a power sharing relationship will affect your political future?”

“The Socialist Front has always been in the forefront in the push for civil rights in this country. We led the fight for the legalization of same sex marriage twenty years ago, and we as a party believe that the relationship between the two or more parties in a life partnership is private and sacred. No stigma should be attached to a power sharing relationship.”

“Is he looking for a partner or running for political office?” Brad whispered to Tilden.

“Political office, I think,” Tilden whispered back.

“Brat number four is a college student. He hails from the great state of New York, and his major interest is having a good time. His first question is to top number five.”

“Would you spank for poor academic performance?”

“I take it your grades are a bit of a problem.” Tilden heard a muttered “yeah” from the brat.  “It depends,” Tilden said, trying to buy time to put his thoughts in order. He’d seen Milton use physical sanctions in what appeared to be real life, but he’d also heard Milton talk about role play and games. It was a confusing mix that Tilden didn’t understand, and he was supposed to make a coherent two minute policy statement on it. “If I were your top, and you were having academic difficulty I would first work to develop a successful study strategy together.” Well, that sounded safe; Tilden would do that for any student. “Once the ground rules had been established, we could discuss sanctions for violating those ground rules.” That sounded wishy-washy. “For instance if you went to a frat party and you were supposed to be studying for an exam, I would spank and put you on restriction. Now if you prepared properly and were still having academic difficulty, you wouldn’t be punished. I might go have a chat with your professor to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

“Brat number four’s next question is for top number six.”

“Would you let your brat have a pet?”

“Yes of course within reason—no farm animals in the house and definitely no primates. I already have two dogs, a hamster, a military macaw and a palm cockatoo. Your pet would have to be compatible with mine.”

“Unfair, you got an easy question,” Tilden whispered to Brad.

“That’s because I’m not a professor living in a household with two other tops. You’re supposed to be an expert.”

So why did he feel like a fraud or an incompetent? Tilden thought. Milton knew how to do this—this strange mixture of erotic play and real life guidance. Sheldon thrived with Milton even if Tilden still shuddered at the ease with which Milton flipped his boy over his knee. Tilden knew that half the time or maybe three quarters of the time it was play. Tilden understood that; he understood the mutual pleasure. It was the other side that left Tilden confused, a side on which he’d participated by instinct, but he couldn’t explain. Milton said it had to do with dominance and submission, and it wasn’t discipline or punishment alone, but entwined with the submission and the power exchange.

No other questions were addressed to Tilden until brat number eight.

“From reading your bio, I understand you have some interesting hobbies including I quote ‘collecting Politburo trading cards and learning the twenty most common expressions in one hundred different languages.’ Would you be willing to participate in more active hobbies with a brat?”

“There was only so much room on the bio forms, but I also enjoy more common activities, such as hiking and canoeing. I’m always game to try new things. I’d never skied until I met Milton my first year of college. Now we go nearly every winter. Mace and his partner both ride, and we went pony trekking last year in Ireland. I’d never been on a horse until I met Mace. One of the advantages of living in a household with two other couples is that you can probably find someone who enjoys your favorite pastimes or is at least game to try it.” 

No more questions were directed toward Tilden. Following the final question, the brats were given ten minutes to organize their thoughts and select a top. The brats were advised to select at least two alternate candidates because as each brat made his selection fewer tops were in the pool. Brat number ten would be left with only three choices.

The host’s voice filled the room. “Now for the first time the tops will see the man who has selected them to spend the next six months together and hopefully a lifetime. After the final selection, the live studio audience and the television audience are invited to vote for the pair that they think are the best matched. The winner will receive a new bedroom set courtesy of Sleep Specials. And now for our first pick. Brat number one.”

“I choose top number eleven.”

 A tall, lanky top stood. He’d described himself as an independently wealthy rancher who taught ski school all winter and was a river guide all summer. The next brat chose the gymnast. He leaped up and pumped his fist into the air before jogging down the aisle and disappearing to meet his brat. Brat number three was the next to make his pick.

“I choose number six.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Brad said.

“Congratulations.” Tilden reached over and shook Brad’s hand. I hope you make a happy pair.”

“Me too, talk about a blind date.” Brad smiled broadly and bounced out of the tops’ room.

Tilden had just settled back in his chair when the next brat made his pick.

“I choose top number five.”

That’s me, Tilden thought, too numb to move. Behind him a top slapped his back and congratulated him. Somehow he moved down the aisle and into the next room to meet his new brat.

A young, blond-haired man was standing partially obscured by the host.

“Luka,” Tilden said softly, hardly believing his own eyes. He’d been giving Luke extra tutoring sessions. While it had been obvious to him that Luke was a submissive, he hadn’t realized the boy was attracted to him.

Luke ran toward him and threw himself at Tilden. Tilden opened his arms and automatically pulled the shaking young man to his chest.

“Shh, it’s going to be OK. We’ll get this figured out.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you, Professor Blake?”

“Mad, no—surprised, yes. And I think you better start to call me Tilden. Professor Blake seems a bit formal for our situation, don’t you agree?”

Luke was still clinging to Tilden when a studio employee escorted them to what Tilden later learned was the kiss and cry room. A woman, whom Tilden thought he recognized from a previous bake-off show, shoved a microphone in their face. She was pretty, Tilden thought, probably hired to keep the straight population interested.

“Luke, can you tell us why you chose Professor Tilden Blake.”

Luke wiped his eyes, trying to hide the tears that had started to fall when Tilden put his arms around him. “He didn’t seem as scary as the other tops.”

“Tilden, when you walked out on the floor, it seemed that you recognized Luke,” she said, pushing the microphone under Tilden’s nose. 

“I did. He’s in my Russian class.”

The host addressed Luke again. “From your question about academics, I take it you’re not the best student.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Luke laughed and snuck a peek at Tilden.

Tilden ruffled Luke’s hair. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

“Will you spank him for his grades?” she said, turning toward the camera and winking.

“We haven’t negotiated any specific arrangements, so I have no comment at this time.” Tilden tightened his arms around Luke and tried to shield him as much as possible from the obnoxious woman with the microphone.

“Luke, do you think your new top will need to spank you over college stuff?”

“You don’t need to answer that if you don’t want to,” Tilden said protectively. At that moment a new couple entered, and with a swish of her wrap skirt, the woman moved toward the new couple, talking in her microphone the entire time as she walked.

“It seems that our new top, Tilden Blake is already demonstrating the strong protective instincts that all good tops are known for. With his new young charge’s academic difficulties, this should be an exciting couple to watch. How will Tilden balance his protectiveness with his need to discipline young Luke?”

Tilden gave a small wry smile as he listened to the woman’s blather. He was more than relieved to see her move to the next couple. “Luka, are you holding up OK?”

Luke didn’t get a chance to answer because Sheldon came flying in the room, charged over to them, and began talking at machine gun burst speed.

“Slow down, I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Tilden said. 

“Hey, kiddo, welcome to the gang.” Sheldon grabbed Luke and kissed him on both cheeks French style.

“That’s Sheldon,” Tilden said. “He can be a brat in case you haven’t noticed. Where’s everybody else?”

“Trent and Mace headed home to get some dinner on. It’s a madhouse up front, but I expect my significant other is on his way.”

Tilden caught sight of Milton, called, and waved him over. Milton pushed his way through the throng of people. He had Mike, whom he must have picked up in the audience, securely grasped by his wrist.

Luke watched wide-eyed. “Professor Brown is Sheldon’s top?” he stammered.

“Yes, he is.” Tilden said and looked at Luke’s pale face. “Is something going on in history that I don’t know about?”

“No,” Luke muttered. He was saved from having to elaborate when Milton finally reached them.

Milton gently kissed Luke’s forehead. “Welcome to our house. This is a surprise, but I hope you’ll be happy. He kissed Luke again and stepped back to give Mike a chance to speak to Luke. Milton grabbed Sheldon’s hand and Tilden’s elbow and steered them behind a potted palm tree. “Give them a minute to talk. This is going to be a big change for Luke; he’s going to need all the support from his friends that he can get. Sheldon, can we get out of here?”

“Yeah, let me go give Dave and Lionel a holler. They’re going to be your camera crew. I’ll be back in five.” Sheldon weaved through the crowd, waving his studio ID as needed to escape out an emergency exit door.

“Are you ready for this?” Milton asked, putting a supporting hand on Tilden’s back.

“No, I must have been suffering from temporary insanity when I agreed to this.”

“I think we need to go rescue your new boy from his roommate. Luke already looked like he was one wrong step from a meltdown; he doesn’t need Mike to give him a push. I had to grab Mike in the audience. The enormity of what Luke did hit him a couple minutes after Luke picked you. From what I could tell from his babbling, they’re more than just roommates but also fuck buddies, and they support each other the best they can. They’re both unfettered submissives, so it’s haphazard at best, but it was better than nothing.”

“Great,” Tilden groaned.

Milton’s eyes twinkled, and he gave Tilden a friendly punch on the shoulder. “You may have gone from no boys to two boys in less than an hour. I think that’s a record.”

“I don’t want to even think about that. I’m too old for chasing after two young men.”

“You better watch out, or Mace will have a betting pool on the date Mike moves in. Why don’t you go get Luke, and I’ll try to get Mike on his way home. Sheldon should be back any minute now.”

Tilden hooked an arm around Luke and drew him away from his ex-roommate while Milton gently coerced Mike to move toward the exit and the parking garage. Tilden saw Milton reach into Mike’s hip pocket, extract a ring of keys, and place them in Mike’s hand. Tilden lost Mike and Milton behind the ever shifting sea of people. Family members were grabbing for both tops and brats, hugging and kissing them as if they were going off to war. Tilden was reminded of the pictures of soldiers hanging out the windows of troop trains desperate for a last touch or kiss from a loved one. The main host for the program plus two or three other vultures kept shoving microphones in the new couples’ faces trying to get a reaction. Tilden did his best to protect Luke, keeping both of them planted in the corner of the room, partially shielded by eight foot tall papier-mâché statues of Venus, Mars and their son Cupid.

****

Luke was relieved to find himself in the relative anonymity of the shadows of the Roman gods. It gave him a chance to catch his breath; it seemed that the earth had picked up speed on her axis. This morning he’d been a carefree, single guy, enjoying a friendly fuck with his roommate, and now he belonged to his forbidding Russian professor and a house full of tops; one of whom he hadn’t even met yet. Luke moved closer to the man who now possessively kept his hand on his shoulder—Tilden—his top—his partner and lover. Was lover too much to hope for? 

Professor Blake—no it’s Tilden now—had been tough but kind to him in class. After that disastrous first test, he’d taken Luke in hand and pretty much dragged him kicking and screaming through first year Russian. Tilden’s words had been scorching enough when Luke had been merely a student. What would he do to him now when he found out the true depth of his academic catastrophe? He was supposed to have an outline for Professor Brown on a major paper by Monday, and he hadn’t even chosen a topic. Luke had seen Professor Brown nearly frisk Mike for his keys and frog march him to the parking garage. He was damn scary; Luke couldn’t stop the small shiver that ran through his body.

Tilden tightened his arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Are you still hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Luke replied automatically. Luke felt Tilden pull him around, so they were face to face. The weight of Tilden’s hands rested securely and authoritatively on Luke’s shoulders. 

“Life will be easier if we stop with the little social lies right now. Soglasen, Luka?” Tilden was staring at Luke, waiting for an answer.

Luke could feel his neck turning red, and he blinked back the unwelcome feeling of tears. He stared down at the carpet and managed to mumble, “Yes.”

“The correct response is soglasen. It means agreed.” Tilden smiled and squeezed Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll get you through this.”

There was that smile; the smile in the course catalog that had originally enticed Luke to take Russian. It wasn’t a broad grin, but the warmth was clear, and the small crinkles around the eyes and the sparkles in the deep blue almost violet irises captivated Luke’s heart. Tilden hadn’t been the richest top to choose from or the most classically handsome, but he’d felt right. Luke hadn’t wanted to be a pretty bauble to be cast off when the top became bored with him or exasperated with his behavior. Luke let himself be drawn into Tilden’s chest. This man could definitely handle him. In fact, Luke suspected he might handle him a bit more than he wanted.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you. Milton and Sheldon should be back any minute, and we can get out of here.”  

Milton arrived, towing Sheldon by the collar of his jacket. “Sorry, it took so long, he kept disappearing.” Even with the firm hold on his collar, Sheldon was bouncing up and down like a kangaroo on a pogo stick. Milton glanced over his shoulder, and gave Sheldon a quick swat on the butt. “Settle down, now.”

Luke flinched at the sound of the swat. Sheldon drew his breath in with a quiet hiss, but otherwise it caused little change in his demeanor.

Milton turned toward Tilden. “It looks like it’s going to be a long night. Let’s get both these guys out of here.” Milton looked directly at Luke, his eyes penetrating. “You’re going to stay between us. Keep going no matter who tries to talk to you. Understand?”

Luke nodded. He shrank back into Tilden’s arms, glad for some protection from Milton’s glare. Captured by those fierce eyes, he might have agreed to anything. Milton turned toward his partner and whispered dire threats of bodily harm if Sheldon as much as stepped more than a half meter from him. Milton stood in front of Luke’s left shoulder, making the spearhead through the crowd, and Tilden kept his left arm securely around Luke’s shoulders as they headed toward the door. They’d crossed halfway to the door when two microphone wielding hosts pounced on them.

“Luke, can you tell us how you feel about going to a household with multiple tops? Have you met all the tops and brats that live in your new home?” they shouted over the din.

Milton didn’t pause. The commentators were forced to step aside or be mown down by Milton’s onslaught. Tilden pushed Luke forward. Behind them Luke could hear one of the announcers speaking into the microphone.

“Our young college boy seems to have chosen a highly protective top. How do you think this is going to change his life?”

The second commentator chimed in, “I expect late nights and keg parties are a thing of the past for him. It looks like he’s going to be closely supervised. This should be a fun couple to watch.” Their words were lost in the haze of general noise as Luke found himself out of earshot.

“Through here,” Sheldon said and opened a door with his studio ID. 

Luke was feeling numb as he was hustled through the back corridors of the studio building. He was bundled into a car with the speed and deftness of the Secret Service protecting the president.

Luke slumped against the seat, relieved that no one was asking him any questions or depending on him to make decisions because he felt like a stranger watching life happen to someone else. This young, blond boy guarded by two tops couldn’t be him. This had to be an alcohol induced hallucination. Tomorrow he would wake up in his dorm room with nothing but a headache and fragmented memories of vibrant dreams.