Meet Your Mate 4

Chapter 4

The college president’s house was in a secluded corner of campus, surrounded by towering oaks and maples. Tilden climbed the steps to the white clapboard house and straightened his tie before he rang the bell. He’d dressed in khakis and a blazer. Best to be on the conservative side when being interrogated by the big cheese. He’d been in the president’s house many times for the opening of the year faculty gathering and fundraising functions, but he’d never been invited for a private audience.

The doorbell was answered almost immediately by Nancy Groat, who had made a feeble attempt at more casual wear for a Saturday meeting. She was wearing navy pants and a pinstripe shirt without a jacket. Her expression was severe; her lips pinched together in a hard line.

“Come in, Tilden. Everyone’s in the dining room.” 

The dining room was dominated by a circular walnut table and a matching sideboard.  A heavy lead decanter filled with amber liquid rested on the sideboard. The chandelier centered over the table was ponderous crystal. The overall effect was cold and formal. Tilden squared his shoulders and prepared for the interrogation.

Tilden observed the faces around the table, curious to see who was selected to spend Saturday interrogating a fellow faculty member. At the far side of the table was the college president, Emily Weathers-Simpson, and her husband. Next to her was Jeremiah Tyler, an enormous dark skinned man who was dean of men and taught an occasional course in physics. Tilden’s department head, Samantha Roth, was opposite Tyler, and next to her was a young woman who Tilden thought worked in the student health services. Tilden couldn’t consider any of these people his allies. The president he remembered as gracious the few times they’d met, and his department head he would consider fair, but he hardly imagined that she was a practitioner of the more exotic domestic relationships. He’d met her husband at numerous departmental functions, and he couldn’t imagine a more vanilla couple. Tilden remembered their startled look the year that he’d hosted the Christmas party, and they’d met the couples in his household. They’d been resolutely polite, clearly trying to be open minded, but Tilden was sure their bedroom conversation that evening had been interesting. Tyler was an unknown quantity; Tilden had seen him around campus, but he didn’t socialize much with the math and science folks.

President Weathers-Simpson stood and welcomed Tilden into the room. “Tilden, thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you have many pressing concerns at home with the sudden change to your household. We’ll try to make this meeting brief. Would you care for some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you—black, no sugar. I hope I can allay your concerns and fears.” Tilden politely nodded at the circle of people around the table before he sat down and took a sip of coffee.

Weathers-Simpson continued, “I’ve asked my husband to participate in this meeting since as a physician he has received some additional training in...” She hesitated, clearly searching for the correct phrase. “More unusual domestic relationships. Tilden, is his presence a problem for you, since he has no official capacity with the college?”

Tilden smiled, trying to allay the tension he could sense around the table. “I have no problem with him remaining, as long as my colleagues are in agreement.” There were nods around the table.

“I’m going to give the floor to Nancy as she was the administrator initially informed of your decision to participate in this television show.” 

Nancy carefully set her coffee cup in the saucer before she started speaking. “Tilden, you are aware of the college’s policy against sexual relationships or romantic fraternization between staff and students?”

“Yes.” Tilden tried to continue but Nancy refused to yield the floor.

“Taking Luke Griffith as your partner can only be seen as a direct violation of that policy. I think the only appropriate course of action would be for you to resign or to immediately separate Luke from your household.”

“My resignation papers will be on my department head’s desk by this afternoon if that is the consensus of this group.” Tilden held himself ramrod straight and kept his voice steady. He’d not expected this, but he wasn’t going to abandon Luke. A violation of trust between a dominant and a young and insecure submissive of that magnitude could be devastating for Luke.

“Let’s not be hasty.” The president’s voice was sharp and crisp. “I invited Tilden here to insure Luke’s interests were being protected, not to condemn a faculty member for a relationship that I don’t fully understand.”

“Relationships with students are inherently unequal and lead to a violation of the student’s rights,” Nancy retorted.

“Even the most accepted generalities don’t always illuminate the truth once specific cases are involved,” Weathers-Simpson said blandly. “My understanding of this reality program’s format is that the tops are kept in the dark about the identity of their prospective partners until the selections are made. If this is the case, I don’t believe that Tilden coerced Luke into a relationship. Tilden were you aware of Luke’s participation in the show prior to the matching?”

“No.”

“Had you made any suggestions of a more personal relationship with him prior to your appearance on the show?” 

“Absolutely not. I tutored him privately several times, but our relationship was strictly academic. I was aware that both he and his roommate were submissives or brats as the show prefers, any good top would have been, but I was extremely careful not to assume the role of a dominant. It wasn’t my right until Luke demanded it by selecting me on the show. I would have considered it a gross overstepping of my boundaries as a professor.”

“Are you telling me that you had no attraction to this young man until he selected you on a television show?” Nancy’s voice dripped skepticism.  

“No, I’m telling you I didn’t act on my attraction. I’m a top; I’m genetically programmed to notice a spinning brat. I can’t turn that part off when I teach; I merely refrain from acting on it.” Tilden could tell that his argument was not moving Nancy from her position, but he thought at least a few of his other colleagues seemed to be sympathetic.

“Tilden’s assessment of a top’s motivation is the conventional medical explanation for a power exchange relationship,” Dr. Weathers-Simpson said. “The American Psychiatric Association considers dominant and submissive and all their possible permutations a normal variant of domestic relationships for either homosexual or heterosexual couples. Current medical thinking is that there is a strong genetic predisposition to be either a dominant or a submissive and that all people fall within this spectrum, but those at the more extreme ends are happier and more satisfied in a power exchange relationship. A brat, as the show is describing, is only one expression of submissive tendencies. They are most often young submissives who look toward older men for guidance and leadership as well as the more intimate side of submissiveness. A brat may outgrow the need for general guidance, or it may mutate into a more distinct role play, but he or she will not outgrow the desire to be the submissive partner.”

“I agree with Dr. Weather-Simpson’s opinion.” Tilden looked around to see who was speaking; it was the young woman from the student health services. “Last year we introduced a new support group for submissives. I would like to see Luke attend. Tops are rarer in the population and are more obstinate about group sessions. We would be delighted if Tilden or one of his housemates would participate in these sessions. We hate that many of our submissives’ only knowledge of tops is from reality television and Hollywood.”

“I’m sure Milton or I could attend. Trent might also be able to attend if the top doesn’t need to be a member of the college community.”

“We would be delighted if any of you three could make it.”

“Your commitment to help the student health services is commendable, but we are here to discuss Luke,” President Weathers-Simpson interrupted smoothly. “Jeremiah, as dean of men, do you have anything to add or any questions for Tilden?”

Jeremiah’s voice was deep and rumbling, befitting his great size. “I’m a member of the older generation where these matters were not discussed openly. I’ve never shared this with my colleagues at this college, but I think now is the time. I’m a submissive with strong leanings toward the brat side of the spectrum. At this table I think I can most respect Luke’s needs, except of course for his top, Tilden.”

Tilden heard a gasp from the collected group as they digested this information. The president’s gaze didn’t even flicker; maybe deadpan expressions and effective techniques for countering shock were required knowledge for upper level administrators. Nancy looked appalled, even though she tried to hide her reaction by pouring more coffee and offering it to her colleagues.

Jeremiah continued after he paused to let his revelation sink in. “I don’t know Tilden well personally as our paths have infrequently crossed, but as the dean of men I’m aware that Tilden is particularly concerned about the welfare of his students. He always alerts me early to any potential academic difficulty. I received a note on Luke’s difficulties along with Mike Stoller’s, his roommate, in Russian within three weeks of the start of class. It was mostly a heads up and a request that I have them consult with their advisor. Unfortunately neither student followed up on the advice. I have more personal familiarity with Tilden’s housemate, Milton Brown. Milton has been aware of my orientation from an involvement in a private club outside this college and predating his arrival here. He has always been discreet with that knowledge; I don’t believe he even told his housemates. Milton and I co-advised a student whose major was a combination of religion, science, and history. I believe, if memory serves, the student wrote a senior thesis on the effects of religious persecution on scientific discovery. That student’s major was a bureaucratic nightmare. I was at loggerheads with the head of the religion department.”

There was a collective chuckle around the table from the faculty who remembered the irascible head of religion, a tiny white-haired man, elfish in appearance, who with just a few words could send the entire humanities faculty running for cover.

“I can remember becoming frustrated with the red tape,” Jeremiah continued. “Milton was listening to me rant when he quietly took the offending paperwork off my desk and said he would deal with that part and for me to focus on selecting the science courses.  We never spoke of it again, but I have a deep respect for Milton as a colleague and as a friend. The fact that Milton has chosen to cohabit with Tilden for many years is a ringing endorsement of Tilden’s integrity and kindness. I think no award or recognition could speak more highly of Tilden than Milton’s unreserved support. I’m confident there is no impropriety in his relationship with any student and that Luke will be supported and nurtured. My concern is Mike.”

Tilden heard a couple of sharp “why’s” around the table.

Jeremiah glanced at Tilden before continuing. “I saw you nod. I believe you are in agreement with me.”

“Yes, Mike’s lost what little support structure he had. To be honest, I’m afraid that he’s going to end up at our house sooner rather than later.”

“Good.” Jeremiah smiled. “I didn’t think it was fair to leave him out there drifting.”

Nancy snorted. “You want me to sanction not one but two relationships between a faculty member and a student? I thought this was college, not a vaudeville act.”

“I know this is most irregular,” Tilden said, trying to placate the concern he could sense from several individuals around the table. “Two partners wouldn’t be my first choice, but I may have no choice in the matter. Luke and Mike were already lovers.” It wouldn’t have been Tilden’s choice at all forty-eight hours ago. He knew threesomes weren’t unheard of, but he didn’t have a single partner. He hadn’t contemplated two, especially two whom he hardly knew.

“And you know this how?” Dr. Weathers-Simpson interrupted. 

“Mike told Milton. Unfortunately Luke and Mike may be a packaged deal. It’s going to make the whole thing more complicated for everybody,” Tilden said with a sigh.

“We’re not talking lunchmeat here; we’re talking about young men’s lives,” Nancy said and pressed her lips into a tight, firm line.

“I’m well aware of the potential pitfalls,” Tilden said calmly.

“I’m not personally familiar with these relationships, but my understanding is that they frequently include corporal punishment,” the college president said. “Do you foresee using corporal punishment with your brat or brats? Brat is the correct term, isn’t it?”

“Yes, they can be referred to as brats or simply as submissives. Brat is a term of endearment, not derogatory. And I plan on using corporal punishment with Luke. I don’t like to spank, but I suspect Luke is going to force my hand more than once.” 

A few people around the table laughed at the unintentional pun.

“I’ll be frank with you, Tilden,” the president said. “I don’t understand these relationships, and I can’t fathom participating in a relationship where one partner wields physical discipline, but as an academic I feel it is important to keep an open mind. If I understand my experts correctly, these types of relationships aren’t inherently harmful and are potentially beneficial.” The president’s glance encompassed the two health professionals and Jeremiah. “I have several conditions that I would like to place on this relationship, and since this college does assume the role of loco parentis, I feel these restrictions can be legally justified. Luke will speak to either a health professional or Jeremiah weekly.” Weathers-Simpson turned towards Jeremiah. “I assume you would be willing to act as a neutral observer?”

Jeremiah glanced at Tilden, who nodded his agreement. “I would be happy to speak to our young men, but I’m sure they’ll be quite safe with Tilden.”

“Tilden, while I think this warning is quite unnecessary if there is ever any sign of physical or mental abuse, this college and I personally will make sure that you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

“I understand your concern and thank you for your confidence. I assure you that I will take good care of Luke.”

“I trust you will.” Weather-Simpson gave a neutral smile and indicated with a nod of her head that the meeting was over. 

Tilden stepped out onto the porch; he could see Luke and Milton coming across the walk toward him. Even from the distance, Luke looked nervous, and Milton had his arm tightly around the young man’s shoulders, offering reassurance but also preventing escape. Luke looked like he was blinking back tears as he climbed the steps. Milton mouthed over Luke’s head that the young man was scared to death and released Luke into Tilden’s arms.

“It’s OK, druzhok. They’re going to ask a few questions; I don’t think they’re planning to use thumb screws, and I know President Weathers-Simpson doesn’t have a rack.” Tilden hugged Luke tightly. “I’ve got you. Now, go talk to the big, scary administrators. It’s not too many freshman who get to have coffee with the college president.”

“Great, I’d rather not have the privilege,” Luke said and buried his face in Tilden’s chest.

“Go on. The more you think about it; the worse it gets.” Tilden peeled Luke’s arms off him and walked him to the door. “I’ll escort you inside, but they’ll want to talk to you alone.”

Tilden walked into the president’s dining room for the second time this morning. Luke had a firm grip on his hand, but his head was up, and his eyes were free of tears. “I think you all know Luke Griffith,” Tilden said to the assembled deans and faculty. He then addressed Luke directly. “I’ll be outside. Ne pukha ne pera.”

“What?” 

“I’ll tell you later, but the correct answer is k chertu, to the devil.” Tilden squeezed Luke’s shoulder and quickly left. He hoped the distraction with the Russian phrase would keep Luke together through the interview. Jeremiah had pulled out a chair next to him and invited Luke to sit beside him. Tilden saw Jeremiah reach under the table and squeeze Luke’s knee and whisper something in his ear. Whatever he’d said had made Luke smile.

Milton was waiting on the porch when Tilden stepped out. “Luke holding it together so far?”

“So far. Jeremiah Tyler is protecting him from the wolves, and I think the college president will also.”

“Ah, so you know.” Milton smiled knowingly.

“Yes, he announced it to everyone. He thinks you walk on water.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Modesty is not one of your virtues.” Tilden playfully punched Milton in the arm. “Oh, to have your confidence.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” 

“So did you get Luke’s stuff together?”

“Oh, I see. Change the subject. The short answer is no. The long answer is we should call the health department on their dorm room.”

“That bad?”

“I don’t think either boy has done his laundry since the start of the year. Mike was still in bed when we got there. I roused him, chased him into the shower, and got him dressed. I’ve left him cleaning the room; I hope. Everything went OK in the meeting?”

“Nancy’s none too happy, but I think everyone else is onboard. I hope they don’t scare Luke out of the whole idea.”

“He’s more resilient than you think.” Both men fell silent, leaning on the porch rail, staring into the distance.

*****

Luke trotted out of the house, a big smile on his face. “Jeremiah is really nice. I can’t believe the dean of men is like me.”

“I’m glad it went well,” Tilden said.

Milton frowned. “Luke, you need to call Jeremiah Dean Tyler unless you’re in private. It’s not public knowledge that he’s a submissive, so don’t spread it around.”

“Sorry. I won’t. Can I tell Mike?”

“Only if Dean Tyler gives you permission.” Tilden took Luke’s hand and started back toward Luke’s dorm room. “So what did you talk about?”

“They were obsessed with the idea that you somehow coerced or corrupted me. I mean the idea is insane. You two are so correct it hurts. It’s like I moved into a monastery.”

“You’ve been there less than twenty-four hours,” Tilden said.

“Oh, to be young again.” Milton laughed. “What else did you talk about?”

“They asked about Mike. They wanted to know if I thought he was upset that I moved in with you guys. Jer—um—Dean Tyler asked my opinion of a threesome.” Luke stopped and stared at both tops. “You aren’t considering it, are you? That would be way cool. Threesomes are all the rage in New York and LA. He’d love it!”

“Threesomes are very difficult to maintain,” Tilden said somberly. “Remember all the fuss you made about rules this morning. How do you think Mike would handle that kind of thing?”

“You’re considering it!” Luke pulled out of Tilden’s hand and jumped up and down on the path in front of them. “Wait till I tell Mike.”

Tilden grabbed both of Luke’s wrists. “Listen.” He said in a sharp tone. “You don’t say anything to Mike. If it ever happens, we’ll all discuss it together quietly and rationally.”

“You’re a party pooper.” 

“Luke, did you hear what Tilden just said?” Milton barked.

“Uh-huh.” Luke kicked a loose stone with his toe.

“Look at me.” Milton’s voice was razor sharp; it seemed to freeze nature for a split second. “I think we talked this morning about how to respond to a direct question.”

“Yes, sir,” Luke muttered and felt the red flush on his neck and cheeks.

“Druzhok, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Tilden asked.

“This is America. Can’t you stay in English?”

“Druzhok is an endearment.”

“It means little friend,” Milton added with a teasing smile. “He could have called you golubchik which is even worse. It means little pigeon.”

“I couldn’t be an eagle or a condor, instead I’m a filthy pigeon begging for bread crust and pooping on pedestrians’ heads.”

“That’s a little harsh, Luka,” Tilden said, laughing. “Druzhok means boyfriend. Do you want to know the other Russian phrase I used.”

“Not really.” Luke shrugged. “But you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You’re not teaching your boy naughty phrases so he can curse and not get in trouble with me, are you?” Milton teased Tilden.

“Of course not. Well, just a little. K chertu does mean to the devil.”

“What?” Luke asked, wide-eyed.

“Oh, so I can get you interested in Russian. The traditional response to good luck is to the devil.”

By the time Tilden had finished discussing the intricacies of phrases using the word devil they had made it to Luke’s dorm room. Luke’s room was on the second floor about halfway down the corridor. A few students in the hall stared at the two professors. Professors in a freshman dorm were an unusual sight. 

Luke pushed opened the door to his room. He usually didn’t notice the empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes strewn on the floor. Didn’t all dorm rooms look like that, but Tilden was staring in wide-eyed amazement at the room. Luke kicked a pile of clothes out of the way as he desperately wished they’d done more tidying. Mike, seemingly unconcerned, was flopped down on the unmade bed, wearing only a pair of shorts and a towel.

“I sent you to the shower over a half hour ago. Why are you still not dressed?” Milton made no effort to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Mike looked languidly at Milton through half closed eyes. “It’s Saturday. It’s too early to get up.”

“It’s almost noon.” Milton grabbed Mike by his elbow and hoisted him off the bed. “Get dressed.”

“I don’t have any clean clothes.”

“Well, pick something that’s less dirty. I don’t think you want to do your laundry in the bare.” Milton walked over to the dresser and searched through the drawers until he found a crumpled T-shirt. He plucked a pair of sweatpants off a pile on the floor and tossed them to Mike. “Here. Do you know how to do laundry?”

“Of course,” Mike huffed. “What do you think I am?”

“A college freshman,” Milton said. “From the evidence in your room, I assumed that neither of you had mastered the art of using the washing machine.”

“No, it’s Luke who can’t do laundry; he turns everything pink.”

Luke, who had been picking up the trash at Tilden’s insistence, rifled a Chinese takeout container at Mike.

“Boys.” Tilden’s voice cracked across the room. “This room already looks like an E.P.A. Superfund site; let’s not make it worse. Luka, do you have any of your books and clothes together?”

“Yeah, Milton made me get some stuff together earlier.”

Tilden picked up the boxes and the book bag that were stacked against the bed. “Milton and I will take these out to the car. Try to help Mike with this mess. You can’t leave your roommate to clean up this disaster on his own.”

Mike let out a sigh when the two tops disappeared through the door, loaded down with boxes. “Jesus, are they always that bossy?”

“Yep, Milton scares the crap out of me. Tilden seems a little nicer, and I haven’t figured out Trent, the third guy.”

“Have they disciplined you?”

Luke blushed to the roots of his hair.

“Already?” Mike’s eyes were wide.

“Just a few swats and corner time, but that was bad enough. They swat hard.”

“Poor baby boy.” Mike grabbed Luke around the neck and playfully ruffled his hair. “I miss you.”

“Me too.” Luke ran his hands through his untamed locks. “I didn’t know this would be so hard. I know I can be a brat, but all the rules and stuff. They’re trying to be nice, but I feel like I’m in a foreign country. Half the time Tilden babbles at me in Russian.”

“Stop moping about like a girl. Nobody says we still can’t have fun.” Mike grabbed Luke’s head and kissed him deeply on the mouth. He ran his hands seductively down Luke’s back and squeezed his ass.

“Don’t, not here. They’ll kill me.” Luke pushed Mike off and started sorting the clothes on the floor.

“I can’t believe it; they’ve already turned you into a tame boy. They probably got you in bed before ten and studying on Saturday night. Fuck! I loved you.” Mike kicked the pile of clothes that Luke was trying to organize. “I’m not cleaning my room for some stuck-up college profs.”

“Mike, please don’t do this to me.” Luke blinked back the tears that were forming. “I thought you were my friend.”

“Go cry on one of your tops’ shoulders. I’m sure they like it—brings out the nurturing instinct. Brats are supposed to need guidance and nurturing.”

“Fuck you! You’re the one who encouraged this stupid show, and now you’re going to abandon me.”

“You’re the one who’s deserting me. Remember we were going to go to the rush parties tonight.”

“I can’t.”

“They don’t own you. Meet me at Delta Lambda tonight, or you can kiss our friendship good-bye.”

Luke started to reply when he heard the door open.

“You guys didn’t get very far,” Tilden said.

Luke bent down and began to rapidly sort his clothes. He didn’t want Tilden to know about his spat with Mike. Neither he nor Mike talked as they put the room in order. Luke could feel both tops’ eyes on him. There was no way they didn’t recognize the tension in the room. Finally they finished, and Tilden looped his arm around Luke’s shoulders.

“Let’s get you home. You’ve got a paper to work on. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Misha.”

“Yes, Professor Blake.” 

Luke nearly gagged at the phony sweetness in Mike’s voice. It seemed that Tilden didn’t notice as he simply nodded and escorted Luke out. Tilden was silent until they were out in the relative solitude of the quad.

“Do you want to talk about what’s’ going on between you and Mike?”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. I won’t make you talk about it, but I’m here if you want to.”

Luke blinked; he hadn’t expected Tilden to be sympathetic. He almost wished Tilden would force him to talk. He didn’t want to lose Mike as a friend. If he didn’t go to the party, he’d lose Mike. But if Tilden found out about the party, he didn’t even want to think about the consequences.