Chapter 3
Mike pulled the starched white shirt out of the cleaner’s bag. “I hate old folks’ clothes.”
“Misha, humor us. We have a lot of sitting tonight, and I’ll think you’ll be more comfortable if you don’t goad me into spanking you. I know you’re nervous. This isn’t my idea of a good time either.” Tilden kissed the back of Mike’s neck, making his partner squirm. “If you’re a good boy, there’s more of this later.”
“I didn’t think tops were supposed to use bribery.”
“Nu, tak, I’m not a Green Mountain Top yet. I don’t have to follow all the rules.”
“There are no buttons on the cuffs,” Mike grumbled.
“Milton’s going to loan you a pair of cufflinks. I was told they were required tonight, and I’m not doing battle with all those tops over the lack of buttons. “Luka,” Tilden raised his voice, ”I’m sure your hair’s dry. We need to get going.”
Milton walked in carrying several small boxes. “I was told we needed cufflinks here.”
“What on earth are you wearing?” Mike snickered. “You look like you’re ready for the circus.”
“And what’s wrong with a green velvet frock coat and black britches?”
“Lots of things,” Tilden said with a raised eyebrow. “Regular members aren’t expected to dress in such ridiculous outfits, are we?”
“No, only members of the central committee and the high council.”
“Slava Bogu!”
“Wrists out. Let me fix your cuffs,” Milton said to Mike. “Luke, you are wearing more than a towel?”
Mike gave a wolf whistle. “Why not? Might liven up the evening. Nude dancing.”
Luke blushed crimson.
“I think he would need a partner for his dancing,” Tilden said before giving Mike a sharp glare.
“Are you pushing?” Milton asked, a touch of threat in his voice.
Mike shrugged and looked down at his black dress socks.
“Steve needs your support tonight. Do you need something from us so you can provide it?” Milton asked, placing his hand under Mike’s chin and studying the young man’s face.”
“I can hold it together.”
“Thank you,” Milton kissed Mike’s forehead. “Are you onboard with this, Luke?”
Luke dove behind Tilden, shrugging into his pale blue shirt, which set off his eyes beautifully and matched Tilden’s faint lavender shirt.
“Luka, are you OK with this?” Tilden asked when there was no answer.
Luke licked his lips and fiddled with the buttons of his shirt before Tilden took over, buttoning and smoothing the shirt with his usual efficiency. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Gordon and friends didn’t bother you?” Tilden asked, a hard edge creeping into his voice.
Luke shook his head.
“I’ve only seen Gordon and his partner Landon say hello, and they were speaking softly,” Milton added.
“Gordon’s been nice,” Luke said to the floor. “He took the time to explain what’s going to happen.”
“So what happened, Luka?”
“It’s the big guy...”
“Armand. What did he do?” Milton asked.
“He chased me out of kitchen and scolded me for wanting a snack. That’s allowed.” Luke lifted his big, blue eyes and looked at both tops.
Tilden hooked an arm around Luke’s neck and gave him a quick hug.
“He should know better,” Milton growled. “Kit should keep his boy on a shorter leash.”
“He’s a brat?” Luke asked.
“Don’t you remember when Kit told him to tone it down a few times when he was harassing me about my cooking skills? He’s noisy and bossy, but he’s not a top. Just tell him to get lost and get one of us or Kit if he doesn’t get the message.” Tilden kissed the top of Luke’s head.
“Do you know Kit?” Milton asked.
“I was introduced to him.”
“He’s as big as a mountain, but he’s one of the nicest tops you’ll ever find. He has to be to cope with Armand. I’d throttle that boy,” Milton said.
“He hardly seems like a brat,” Luke muttered.
“He’ll be a boy when he’s eighty,” Milton snorted, “and yes, the term brat fits him also, but Armand and Kit prefer boy. If he’s around more than a day or two, you’ll get a demonstration. His poor kitchen staff lives in terror of him every time Kit goes out of town.”
“So here’s where everybody’s hiding?” Sheldon bounced into the bedroom. Like his partner, he was dressed in a green velvet frock coat, but his breeches were tan, and he had short brown, polished dress boots instead of the black that Milton was wearing. He was wearing a row of pins across his jacket, some with satin ribbons, looking like combat medals. “Where are your decorations?” Sheldon asked, fingering a pin with crossed canes. “Gordon said it was formal dress.”
“I feel like a Christmas tree with everything on,” Milton said with a wry grin.
“Come here.” Sheldon crooked his finger at Milton. When Milton came close, Sheldon pulled a box from under his coat and started pinning ribbons and medals to Milton’s chest.
“What is this a giant boy scout jamboree?” Mike asked with a wide grin. “I can probably find my computer and organic farming badges.”
“Behave,” Milton growled. “If I have to dress up like a Christmas tree, you can at least be quiet and sympathetic.”
Mike smirked and nodded.
The Olde Curiosity Shop was packed with people. Outside cars were parked up and down the street, overflowing the shop’s parking lot and the neighboring bank’s lot. Mike recognized very few people in the crowd of mostly older men. There was an eclectic mix of business suits, tuxedos, and both green and burgundy frock coats. Gordon wound his way through the crowd and introduced his partner. They were both dressed in burgundy velvet jackets. Landon had enhanced his outfit with knee length breeches, white socks, and shiny black shoes with gold buckles. He even had a large tri-cornered hat with a feather, making him look like an extra for a romantic fencing film. Mike expected Landon to slap someone with a glove and challenge him to a duel.
Mike spotted Steve between Jeremiah and Joshua. Steve was dressed in ordinary dress clothes, but Joshua and Jeremiah were sporting the strange burgundy jackets. Around each of their necks hung a gold medallion with an abstract mountain in the center. Joshua had a firm grip on Steve’s wrist and was introducing him to a number of people.
Mace and Trent had prepared a buffet of finger foods as most of the tables had been pushed aside to provide more space.
“They have you all dressed up,” Trent said, coming behind Luke and Mike.
“We didn’t have much of a choice,” Mike groused. “How did those guys get away with their clothes?” Mike pointed to a youngish couple in torn jeans and tight slinky tops.
“I don’t think they are,” Trent said as he walked by collecting stray glasses and plates. “See the guy in the green jacket pulling them aside. “They’re probably getting a world class lecture. My understanding is the green coats are the members of the central committee and the dark red coats are the high council.”
“Hey, isn’t that Cotton?” Luke jumped up and waved frantically.
“The whole gang’s here,” Brad said as he and Cotton approached, his arm wrapped around Cotton’s hip.
“What are you guys doing here?” Mike asked.
“We had a visit from a representative of the central committee. It was strongly suggested we attend,” Brad said. “Plus where else can I wear a cockatoo feather in my cap?” He waved a fedora adorned with a pink feather.
Cotton rolled his eyes. “If we’d known how crazy these people were, I don’t think we’d have come. Can you see Brad in a red velvet jacket?”
“I don’t think so,” Mike said, eying Brad’s rumpled corduroys and tweed blazer. But he did wear a hat with a pink feather. Maybe he has a hidden side?”
“Are you guys bratting?” Tilden asked, looping an arm around Mike’s neck.
“They’re making fun of my hat,” Brad waved the pink feather in front of Tilden’s face.
“It does seem out of character for you.” Tilden raised an eyebrow, his eyes laughing.
“Don’t you start.” Cotton grinned. “I wanted him to wear the blue macaw feather. It goes better with my eyes.” Cotton leaned into Tilden and blinked his pale blue eyes.
“Stop vamping, you impossible brat. Only I get to enjoy those lovely, silky white eyelashes.” Brad hooked his arms around Cotton and pulled him close.
Jeremiah and Joshua wound their way towards them. Steve, between them, was clinging to Joshua. Jeremiah had one hand on the young man’s back, while his other hand was cradling a plate filled with sandwiches, chips, and Tilden’s favorite hard-boiled eggs stuffed with red caviar.
“This is my colleague, Jeremiah Tyler, his partner, Joshua Martin, and a young student, Steven Meyer,” Tilden said, snatching an egg from Jeremiah’s plate.
“Man, you look scared to death,” Cotton said to Steve. “It’s just a party with a bunch of weird old guys. I don’t think they’ll make us dress in those crazy clothes.”
Steve buried his face in Joshua’s chest and both Joshua and Tilden shot Cotton a murderous look.
“It is common courtesy to not pick on a boy who is in obvious distress.” Joshua said, his voice hard.
“Sorry,” Cotton said, stepping back toward Brad.
Brad wrapped an arm protectively around Cotton’s hip. Tilden stepped between the two tops, a placating look on his face. “He doesn’t know, Josh. He meant no harm.”
Joshua nodded curtly, tightened his arm around Steve, and tucked the young man under his chin. “Keep a close eye on your boy until he learns some manners.” Joshua turned and herded Steve back toward Gordon and a clump of men dressed in those ridiculous frock coats.
Brad blew air out threw his nose in a near snort. “Does that man always come on that strong?”
“He’s in what Milton calls super protective top mode,” Mike said with a grin. “I just keep my distance.”
“I don’t like him,” Cotton said and leaned into Brad for reassurances.
“What’s going on?” Brad asked. “You guys have been circling around like a combination of vultures over prey and stallions with too much testosterone.”
Tilden sighed and unkinked his long arms. “This is not a mere social meeting or an induction of new members.”
“So?” Cotton muttered. “They don’t have to bite my head off.”
“Watch your tone, young man.” Tilden warned. “You’ve already been told to be careful.”
“You guys are more fun than a barrel of monkeys,” Cotton groused.
Tilden stared hard at Cotton, the same look that made Luke and Mike drop their eyes quickly and shuffle their feet. “The smartest thing for you to do right now is stay close to Brad and keep your mouth closed. You do not want to ruffle the feathers of a strange top tonight.”
“Jeez,” Cotton said half under his breath and rolled his eyes at Mike and Luke.
Tilden shook his head in a sharp warning and seemed poised to say more when Trent reappeared.
“Cotton, Mace tells me you can make a mean pot of coffee. We’re short handed tonight.” Mike bit his cheek to keep from laughing, suddenly remembering Caleb’s description of Trent materializing with food at every possible crisis. “We still have all the desserts in back. That Armand drives me wild, but that dang boy makes a mean tart.” Trent held out a hand, and Cotton let the top pull him toward the kitchen.
“Trent will keep him out of trouble,” Tilden said. “This is not a good night to brat.”
“Way too many tops,” Mike grinned and ran his hand over his butt. “Way too much chance of ending up over someone’s knee.”
Brad looked at Mike as if he were an interesting specimen, a quizzical and worried look on his face.
“Yeah, the other tops will spank—at least the ones I know well.” Mike could feel his face reddening. He shrugged and turned away. What had ever possessed him to make that comment?
Tilden, noticing his partner’s discomfort, looped an arm around Mike’s neck and pulled him close. “You’re talkative tonight,” he whispered.
“I’m an idiot.”
Tilden rubbed Mike’s shoulders. “I don’t think Brad will announce it to the world, and this is a safe place for disclosures.” Tilden kept his voice low. “If you can, I think you need to tell Brad more. I think he found your comments disquieting.”
Mike swallowed and put on his best game face. “Did I just scare you?” he said with an overly bright smile.
Brad gave Mike an apologetic half smile. “I don’t want to pry.”
“Tops pry. I’m used to it. Milton put me across his knee once, and I think Joshua would.”
“Josh definitely would,” Tilden added.
“I think Gordon might, and I don’t know about all his friends here,” Mike continued. “Some of them seem pretty assertive.”
“Gordon better not touch you,” Tilden growled.
Mike popped a big grin at Tilden. “Protective, aren’t you? If he tries the cane, I’ll shout the house down.”
Tilden shifted an arm around Mike’s waist and pulled him close. Tilden didn’t say anything, but the noise rumbling from his throat had all the signs of a warning and none of a purr. “You’re mine,” Tilden whispered in Mike’s ear. “Mine to protect—mine to punish.”
Mike nodded, torn between reveling in the mastery and protesting the unspoken possession of his body and soul.
“What the hell?” Brad said loudly enough that several heads turned their way. “Why do I think I just walked into a freak show?” he asked more to the air than to Tilden and his two young partners. I thought you were a pretty normal family—well, maybe a little different—until I saw this. You’ve done everything but spray like a tom cat marking his territory. I expect you’ll start fighting and yowling in the middle of the night in a minute. I’m going to find Cotton and get out of here. This isn’t my thing. I know you’ve helped me and my partner, but I’m a normal man, not some insane performer.” He waved his hand to encompass several of the men dressed in the more unusual clothing.
Luke, who had been standing near Brad, seemed to visibly melt during the tirade; his blue eyes were impossibly wide and glistened with tears.
“Damn,” Brad muttered. “I didn’t mean to upset Luke.”
“Ten out of ten for upsetting the baby,” Sheldon smirked.
Mike looked through the crowd of men milling around clutching half full glasses of sparkling fruit juice and plates with the crumbs of dinner. Milton and Sheldon had been lost in the fray of men, but now Sheldon had appeared like the famed leprechaun and Milton was casually leaning against the buffet table, helping himself to one of the few remaining sandwiches, but his eyes were on Sheldon and Brad.
“I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Sheldon Zath, world’s number one car wrecker.” Sheldon grasped Brad’s hand and shook it vigorously.
“How could I forget,” Brad said dryly, watching Sheldon bounce up and down with trepidation.
“Don’t worry; I haven’t sabotaged your car yet. I could slash your tires, and then you’d have to stay the rest of the evening.” Sheldon threw Brad a megawatt grin. “You don’t want to miss it . We still have the flamenco dancers and the male strippers.”
“Sheldon,” Tilden warned.
“He already thinks we’re crazy. He might as well see the whole show. You know, we shouldn’t hide the crazy uncle in the closet any longer. It’s quite a show. Did you get a ticket when you came in? They’ll announce soon which numbers have to participate in the striptease. I’d think you’d look pretty good in the buff.” Sheldon raked a critical eye over Brad’s frame. “Better than in those rumpled clothes. You could wear a surgical mask and wrap a stethoscope around your neck. It’d be hot.”
Brad’s gaze darted between Tilden and Sheldon, a look of increasing horror spreading over his face. Sheldon could no longer contain himself and broke out in a fit of giggles. “You guys are putting me on,” Brad huffed.
“You bet.” Sheldon smiled. “Could you see Mr. Conservative, the distinguished Professor Brown, involved in nude dancing?”
Brad snorted and cast his eyes over towards Milton. “I guess not.”
“Banner College considers itself a progressive institution, but it’s not that progressive. I think nude dancing would be cause for firing,” Sheldon said, trying to keep a straight face.
“I would hope so,” Tilden said, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair line.
Milton strolled over and caught the hand of his partner. “Is Sheldon terrifying you—threatening to slash your tires or steal your battery?”
Sheldon rolled his eyes. “After last time, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Milton nodded and gave Sheldon a wise smile. “I wish I could believe that.”
“Do you doubt me?” Sheldon pouted.
“I don’t doubt your good intentions, just sometimes your implementation.” Milton ran his fingers through Sheldon’s red hair.
“You’re mean.”
“No, practical and l know you.” Milton kissed the top of Sheldon’s head, smoothing the area with his hand that he’d just mussed. “Where’s the dessert? With Armand baking, you don’t want to miss them, not that Mace doesn’t make an excellent pie.”
“Armand’s a professional pastry chef.” Trent said, holding out a tray full of delectable sweets, but he can’t touch Mace’s pies. Have several. He brought enough that we won’t have to bake the rest of the week.”
Brad took a pastry, dusted with powdered sugar, from the tray. “Do you guys keep hidden beepers or something? You show up in force at the slightest sign of trouble. Where’s Cotton?”
“Don’t worry. He’s with Mace passing out coffee. And no, no secret smoke signals.”
It’s top radar,” Milton said, snatching two of the sweets from the tray. “Watch the body language.” Milton discreetly pointed at two men pressed against the bookcase. “See the boy, his head’s down, shifting from foot to foot. He’s in trouble for something. Watch the top. He’s trying to be circumspect. He’s not standing directly in front of the boy or hemming his partner in with his arms, but he’s leaning toward his partner, and I would guess whispering fiercely. I think his partner’s about to get swatted.”
They couldn’t see anything as the top pulled his partner farther from view behind the shelves of used paperback fiction.
“Now look over there.” Milton pointed at whole group of men, none whom Mike knew, standing in a circle drinking coffee and laughing. That’s a mixed group of tops and subs. I’m not sure they’re all partnered, but they’re having a good time.”
“OK.” Tilden smiled. “I’ll play along, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Who are the tops and subs?”
“You tell me. You’re experienced enough to tell.”
Tilden studied them for a moment. “The short bald guy with his hands on his partners belt is a top.”
“Yes, that’s Brett. I know him. His partner can get wild at parties, so he’s keeping him close.”
“That’s cheating if you know them,” Tilden sputtered.
“That’s the only couple I know in this group. Who else?”
“Hmm. I think the young man standing next to Brett’s partner is either an unattached submissive or his partner isn’t here tonight.”
“He’s a brat for sure. Look at him try to vamp on that dark haired guy,” Mike chimed in.
“Yeah, I see that,” Brad added, “and he just got a polite brush off.”
“Yes, which he’s ignoring, and now the guy with the spiky brown hair is getting in the act,” Milton said.
“Another brat?” Brad questioned.
“What do you think,?” Milton asked, not letting Brad off the the hook.
“I bet you’re a tough teacher,” Brad muttered.
“He is,” Luke and Mike chorused.
“He’s a brat,” Brad said hesitantly.
“Are you asking me or telling me.?” Milton’s brown eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “Is he the submissive?”
“Telling you,” Brad said with more force, “and I think the first brat is vamping on this guy’s partner.”
“So do I, but they look like they have it under control. Brett’s moved closer, and he’s saying something.”
“Probably trying to refill his coffee,” Brad muttered. “That’s what you do to me.”
“I don’t think they’re being that discreet,” Sheldon said. “I know how that conversation goes. “Behave or get spanked. It’s a great choice.”
“I think they’re trying to diffuse it without going that far. See the group’s breaking up, talking to some new people that approached.”
“The guys in the green jackets like yours. What do they mean?” Brad eyed the strange clothing with obvious distaste.
“One of our founding members enjoyed the theater, and he came up with the clothes,” Milton said, starting to sound like a professor.
“Oh, Lord, we’re going to get a lecture on the history of the Green Mountain Boys.” Mike dodged as Milton reached to swat his hip.
“Behave. The Green Mountain Boys were founded when most gay relationships were still on the margins of society, and our type of relationship was taboo. The outlandish dress was a way to celebrate our relationships and not hide in dim corners. It used to be all members dressed up. Now it’s only members of the central committee and the high council and only for formal occasion.”
“So tonight is different from most meetings?” Brad asked.
“Yes, we have the usual business—new members, financial arrangements, and the like, but this meeting was called for Steve.”
“The young man I met earlier?” Brad asked, addressing Tilden.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to pledge his behavior.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.” Milton said calmly. “It’s about time to start. We need to go up front with our fellow central committee members.”
Mike watched Sheldon and Milton drift to the center of the room, stopping several times to have a few words with different people or shake hands. Cotton ambled over, free of Trent and Mace’s grip, sipping a large mug of hot chocolate, a trace of whipped cream on his lips. Tilden guided everybody over to a group of folding chairs. All around them men were taking their seats.
At the center table, men in burgundy and forest green coats gathered around. Mike recognized several from the group on skis who crashed the television show’s group outing and of course Milton, Sheldon, Joshua, and Jeremiah. Steve was between Joshua and Jeremiah, his skin unnaturally pale. He twisted the edges of his blazer nervously. Joshua scooped him up and placed the nervous boy on his lap. Even from this distance, Mike could see the blush spread over Steve’s cheeks and Joshua tightening his arms to prevent his escape.
“Who’s Xavier with? The guy looks young for a green jacket.” Luke said. “I think he’s more than a babysitter —Xavier’s leaning against him.”
“I don’t know,” Tilden said, watching closely, “but Gordon seems OK with it. I assume he’s safe.”
“Milton’s sitting right next to him. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen,” Luke said.
“No, you’re right.” Tilden agreed.
Gordon stood. Unlike the other men at the table, he was wearing a black frock coat but over his shoulders was a green velvet cape trimmed in white fur. He had a silver staff in his hand, which he banged sharply on the floor, silencing the room. “Welcome. Please everybody take your seats.” The few people still standing scurried to their seats. “I declare this meeting of the Green Mountain Boys officially called to order.”
Gordon and his friends went on to have a usual boring meeting. They confirmed that a quorum was present and approved the notes from the last meeting. Catering details were delegated to another committee, and the housing committee made a report on a leaking roof over part of the lodge. Mike shifted in the hard metal folding chair as the meeting droned on.
“Tonight we are pleased to announce an application for full membership by Tilden Blake, Luke Griffith, and Michael Stoller. The admission of these three men would mark the first threesome in the Green Mountain Boys east of the Rocky Mountains since the 1970’s. I have also nominated young Xavier Dubois for provisional membership. For those of you who are not adequately familiar with our bylaws, applicants under twenty-one years of age can only become full members if they are partnered with a member over twenty-one. Mr. Dubois is a refugee from the despicable television program currently airing on the USBC network. Please let me thank you for the support our membership has shown in pressuring the television network. On all episodes going forward, several telephone numbers offering advice and shelter to abuse victims of both sexes and all sexual orientations will run periodically during the show. A special hotline has also been established to answer question about dominant and submissive relationships, including what the television show prefers to call top and brat relationships. This number will be announced at all commercial breaks. We need members to staff this hotline. Please contact a member of central committee if you can help.” Gordon motioned toward Tilden and his two partners. “Will you three kindly grace us with your presence.”
Mike and Luke pressed close to Tilden as they approached Gordon and what Mike considered his henchmen. An uneasy truce had been arranged last weekend, and Tilden had finally given in to Milton’s badgering and agreed to join, but Mike knew there was no love lost between Tilden and Gordon.
Milton stepped forward and picked up a small box from the table. “It is mine and my partner’s pleasure to be the sponsoring members for this threesome. I have counted Tilden as one of my closest friends for many years, and it is one of my great regrets that it has taken me this long to convince him to join, and I still have not been successful with Trent and Mace. I think close proximity must weaken my powers of persuasion.” Milton paused while the crowd laughed. “I only had the pleasure of meeting the two young men flanking Tilden this fall, and they will make outstanding additions to our ranks, even though all of us tops will have to be extra vigilant with two boys running together. And you thought Sheldon could wreak havoc.”
Sheldon stuck out his tongue and leaned away from the swat Joshua aimed at his thigh. “You must admit you do have a reputation, my dear boy,” Gordon said. “Now settle down and let your partner finish.”
Milton opened the small box on the table and withdrew from the tissue paper a set of cufflinks. He held them up. They were too small for the people in the back to get a good view, but Mike could an outline of a wolf, standing erect, his ears pricked. The wolf was in the foreground of a stylized mountain.
“The sponsoring member has the honor and the duty to pick out a set of cufflinks to commemorate the new member’s induction into the Green Mountain Boys. I want to thank our jewelers for working long nights to get three pairs done on such short notice. For Tilden, I’ve chosen the wolf, not for its reputation as a fairy tale villain, but for the wolf’s real life behavior—a true cooperative animal who mates for life and lives within a strong family unit. As some of you may know, Sheldon wears a coyote, representing the trickster and the prankster, and I wear a coyote howling at the moon. I thought it was appropriate to keep it within the canine family.”
Tilden stepped forward, and Milton removed the plain studs and fastened the new cufflinks. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”
Milton hugged his friend. Mike saw Milton whisper something in Tilden’s ear, but he couldn’t make out the words. “Sheldon chose the cufflinks for Luke and Mike. Sheldon, do you want to do this?” Milton asked.
“No, you’re doing a bang up job. Go right ahead.”
Milton opened the second box. Luke and Mike peered inside. “Puppies,” Mike said with disgust. “I’m surprised it wasn’t kittens.”
“Wolf pups, not puppies,” Milton said calmly, before Mike could needle Sheldon any further. “You two have all the traits of Tilden: loyalty, love for family, fierceness when provoked, but you also have the mischievousness of the young. It’s a puppy who gets a face full of porcupine quills. Now are you going to let me put them on?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mike admired the cufflinks as Milton fastened them. They were beautiful. The two puppies were playing together, or maybe if you looked at it just right thinking about having sex together. One puppy did have a foot on the back of the other puppy as he play bowed. Mike smiled; that had to be Sheldon’s idea. Milton would never approve. Mike held up his wrist, flashing the cufflinks at Sheldon, and winked. Sheldon made a heroic effort not to laugh and ended up coughing so loud that he was handed a glass of water.
“What are you smirking at?” Tilden asked as they headed back to their seats.
“Look at the cufflinks.”
Luke smiled and choked back the sounds of laughter as he took a closer at his cufflinks. “You have a dirty mind.”
“Well, you’ve got to see what I mean.”
“Yeah, I see. I wish I hadn’t.”
“Boys,” Tilden hissed, not hiding the warning in his voice. “Gordon’s going to do more than give us a dirty look in a moment.”
“Talk about dirty. Look at the puppies,” Mike snickered.
Tilden studied the cufflinks and then his eyes widened. “I should box your ears, brat, for even thinking it.”
“You wouldn’t. Your big wolf is jealous he’s not in on the fun.” Mike broke out into laughter, no longer able to control himself.
“Are you three all right?” Gordon’s voice easily reached to where they were standing.
Mike saw Tilden visibly try to pull himself together, a red flush spreading over his cheeks. “We’ve had a stressful week, and the oddest things are striking us as funny. I apologize. We won’t disturb you.”
“Maybe you should go out for a spot of air. We won’t be offended.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Tilden pulled his partners down into the seats, one on either side of him. “Stop right now. We need to be here for Steve.”
“Shit,” Mike whispered. “I forgot.” He fell silent.
Gordon’s deep voice easily filled the far corners of the room. “We have one additional new member to welcome to the family tonight. Come here, Xavier,” Gordon said in a softer voice.
The large blond man who had been sitting next to Xavier, unfurled his arm and gave the boy a slight push. Xavier looked back, his dark eyes wide and pleading. The big man shrugged, stood up, took Xavier’s hand, and pulled him forward.
Mike couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, but there seemed to be a silent exchange of raised eyebrows and slight shrugs. Gordon handed the box to the blond man.
“Eric is going to do the honors,” Gordon said and sat down.
“I’ve only known Xavier for a short time. Gordon showed up one Sunday morning with this lovely young man in tow and informed me in his usual blunt fashion that Xavier was my new assistant for the ski school. Unfortunately Gordon neglected to tell me that Xavier had never personally encountered a pair of skis before.” Eric smiled at Xavier, his blue eyes twinkling. “The next several days were definitely a crash course in skiing with the emphasis on crash. As some of you know, Xavier had just escaped a dangerous situation. Instead of hiding from the world, he attacked his new problem of making those dreadful skinny pieces of wood and fiberglass bend to his will and not head for the nearest tree. He doesn’t give up on life or on skiing, and he taught me an important lesson not to give up either.”
Eric blinked and looked away, trying to compose himself before continuing. “I’m very proud to offer him these stunning cufflinks. None of us know Xavier well yet, but I hope we did a good job in choosing the design.” Eric held up the box. “None of you can probably see this as we had to cram everything in to make it fit.” He pulled a cufflink out of the box and fastened it as he continued to talk. “We have the Eiffel tower, a universal symbol of Paris with a bongo, representing the Côte d’Ivoire, gazing upward, and two crossed swords. Paris was the birthplace of the French Revolution and the famous saying of Liberté, Egalité, et Fraternité. These are the rights of all men including submissives, and they can defend them with the sword if necessary.” Eric fastened the second cufflink and then kissed Xavier on both cheeks French style.
“I think he’s in love,” Luke said, wiping a tear from his eye.”
“You always cry at the end of those chick flics,” Mike teased, trying to kick Luke around Tilden’s legs.
Tilden swatted Mike without taking his eyes off the couple up front. “I do too. I hope it works,” he said almost longingly. “Xavier deserves to find happiness.”
“And broken legs. God, how much more of this romantic claptrap do I have to sit through. I could’ve gone to a fucking scrapbooking party for tearful stories.” Mike snarked, unfazed by the swat.
Tilden, with too much ease as far as Mike was concerned, pulled Mike from the chair. “Please. I’m sorry,” Mike pleaded. Among these people, everyone knew exactly what was going to happen. Mike saw several men give him open looks of sympathy as he was dragged toward the kitchen and relative privacy. He could hear Gordon saying something about a fifteen minute break before the next part of the meeting. Thank God people started to stand up and mill around, providing some cover for his shame.
Trent took one look at them as they entered the kitchen and tossed Tilden his keys. “Go upstairs, but don’t fall over the boxes. It will help cover the noise.”
“Thanks,” Tilden said, catching the keys in one hand while keeping his other hand on the back of Mike’s neck.
“Kiddo, Tilden’s been warning you all night. I hope this is what you wanted,” Trent said with surprising sympathy as he stepped aside to let the two of them pass.
Tilden pushed Mike up the narrow stairs past several boxes of books into a small room that had been a living room when Trent and Mace had lived over the shop. It still contained a sagging sofa and a single floor lamp, missing a shade.
“Sit down,” Tilden said, giving Mike a push towards the sofa. “Is there anything you want to say to me before I spank you?”
Mike shook his head. Stupidly he could feel tears pressing at the back of his eyes and Tilden hadn’t even touched him yet.
Tilden sat down on the sofa next to his boy and hitched up his trouser legs. “Pants down, over my knee. Take your coat off first and hang in over the sofa arm so it doesn’t get wrinkled.”
Mike complied, feeling more unsettled than usual as he lowered himself over Tilden’s knee, his white dress shirt billowing over his hips.
Tilden folded the tails of the shirt in his hand and rubbed Mike’s exposed lower back as he pulled down his boxers. Mike clenched his butt in anticipation of the first swat. He didn’t have to wait long as it fell harder and quicker than he remembered. Why could he never remember how much this hurt?
The spanking ending quickly—-maybe only fifteen swats. Mike struggled to sit up but Tilden’s hand on his back kept him pinned down. “Do I need to do more?”
“No, sir.” Mike said between the tears.
“I know this is hard for you, Mishenka. It’s hard for me. I hope someday you’ll learn to talk to me before I put you in this position. Steve will make it through tonight.”
Mike nodded and concentrated on controlling his tears. It wasn’t just Steve. It was Tilden, but how could he tell his top that he couldn’t face seeing him take the risk of being caned. Yes, he’d been told the risk was slight, but he could see Tilden bent over a table, the cane whistling down.
“I’ve got you, and we’ve got Steve. Trust us.” Tilden still hadn’t let Mike up, and his hand ran over the warmed butt cheeks, both soothing and as a mild warning. “You are a kind and generous young man, but some of the things you said tonight were unworthy of you. To an outsider, it would sound like you were being intentionally cruel to a young man that has been far less fortunate than you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Mike said, wiggling over Tilden’s knee. He hated conversations in this position.
Tilden pulled him up and hugged him. “Go wash your face. We have to be presentable and downstairs in a few minutes.” Tilden cupped Mike’s chin in his hand and kissed his partner’s lips once, a chaste peck. “I’d rather hide up here, but we need to face this all together. Go on now.”
Mike stumbled into the little kitchen, pulling up his pants and tightening his belt. His butt didn’t feel too bad. He’d be able to sit without much discomfort. As always Tilden had been kind, too kind. There were two clean hand towels on the counter in an otherwise abandoned kitchen. Mike moistened one with cold water and circled the kitchen, randomly pulling out drawers and opening the refrigerator as he dabbed his eyes and cheeks with the cold cloth. The freezer had two full trays of ice. He pulled out a drawer and his hand touched the smooth surface of a paddle. Shit. He’d been lucky, Mace thought. Trent must spank Mace up here—no wonder the clean towels and the ice. He hoped Tilden didn’t know about the paddle, he thought, shutting the drawer.
“Mishenka, pora.”
“I’ll be right there.” Mike folded the towel, double checked to make sure he’d truly shut the offending drawer, and headed back downstairs with Tilden.
*****
Luke looked up relieved when Mike slipped down next to him. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’d be better if these chairs weren’t so damn hard.”
“And whose fault is that?” Tilden chided.
“Mine.”
“I have to sit up front now. Do you want me to get Trent to sit with you?”
“You mean can we behave by ourselves,” Mike translated.
Tilden shook his head and muttered mostly to himself, “I didn’t spank hard enough.” He ran a finger over Mike’s cheek. “Try to behave.”
To Luke’s surprise, Tilden bent down and kissed him on the forehead, running his fingers through Luke’s golden curls.
“I know Misha here’s doing enough acting out for both of you, but it will be OK. I promise. “Vsyo budet khorosho.”
Tilden walked off into the crowd. He’d been gone only a minute when Trent slipped in between Mike and Luke and pulled two cans of Coke out of his pocket. “I know you prefer this to coffee.”
“Thanks,” Luke said, popping open the can and taking a long swig.
“You think the only way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Mike complained but opened his can.
“No, for you it can also be through your butt, kiddo.”
Mike heard the warning loud and clear and started studying the ingredient list on the back of the can with a new found fascination.
Gordon stood and banged his staff hard on the floor. The anticipatory buzz that had filled the room disappeared. Mace came over and dropped to the floor at Trent’s feet, leaning back against Trent’s legs. Trent squeezed the back of his partner’s neck before laying a hand on Luke’s knee.
“Tonight the Green Mountain Boys have been asked to perform a very special function—to affirm a pledge made by a dominant or in this case several dominants on behalf of a submissive. I myself have only participated in three such pledges: once many years ago as a guarantor for my partner, once as a member of the high council, and once as the president of the Green Mountain Boys. It is a solemn and difficult vow and a reaffirmation of our faith in ourselves and our community. Tonight, unlike any pledges that I or any of my colleagues can remember, it will not be between a committed submissive and his partner, but between members of the community who have intervened to assist a young submissive in finding his way. Mr. Meyer, Professor Brown, Professor Blake, and Mr. Martin, will you please step forward.”
Joshua wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder and guided him forward. Steve was clinging to Joshua, hiding his face in the older man’s burgundy jacket. Tilden and Milton flanked them. Milton ruffled Steve’s exposed hair and said something that Luke couldn’t hear.
Luke shifted uneasily in his chair, running his fingers down his already smooth pants. Trent caught his hand and held on. “They know what they’re doing. It will be a good experience for Steve,” he whispered.
“Mr. Steven Meyer,”
“Yes, sir,” Steve replied to Gordon. Luke had heard them practice this earlier today, but still he couldn’t imagine doing it. Steve was going to kneel and pledge his obedience and fidelity to the three tops.
Gordon gave Steve a crisp nod, and the young man tried to untangled himself from Joshua. He started to step away and froze. Joshua gently removed Steve’s hand from his back and guided the young submissive down on one knee, the older top’s hand remained on Steve’s sandy hair.
“Steven,” Gordon said. Luke had to strain to hear the words. “Do you understand the consequence of this pledge, and are you entering it willingly and without coercion?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Repeat after me, I Steven Wallace Meyer.”
“I Steven Wallace Meyer.” Steve’s voice shook, but he kept his eyes on Gordon.
“Offer my pledge of loyalty and obedience to Joshua Andrew Martin.”
“Offer my pledge of loyalty and obedience to Joshua Andrew Martin.”
“And understand that Tilden Blake, Milton Brown, and Joshua Martin have guaranteed my behavior before the college authorities.”
Steve repeated the words, the tears streaming down his cheeks.
“And that any violation of the college honor code will result in these three gentlemen receiving twelve strokes of the cane.”
“No.” Mike shot up from his chair before Trent could get a hand on him. “You’re not caning Tilden.”
“Michael, sit down.” Gordon’s voice was firm. “Tilden understands the risks, and I know the history,” he added in a more conciliatory tone.
“No, Luke and I will take the punishment.”
“No,” Gordon said flatly.
“Why not? We’re always being told that as subs we have equal rights. What about my right to protect my partner?”
“Mike, do you know what you’re asking?” Gordon asked, his tone still conciliatory.
“I’m asking to be an equal participant in this crazy scheme.”
“Tilden pledged Steve’s behavior to the college. They wouldn’t accept the word of another student.”
“They wouldn’t accept you beating him either.”
“I wouldn’t beat him. That’s not what this is about, and you know it. I’d cane him and hopefully it will never go that far.”
“Why can’t we take the punishment?”
“Don’t shout at me, boy. Have either of you been caned?”
“No.”
“Luke, stand up. You’ve been quiet while your partner does all the shouting.”
Luke could feel the eyes of all these strange men on him. He wanted to hide under the chair, but Trent had placed his hand discreetly on Luke’s back, offering quiet support.
“Have you ever been caned?”
“No, sir.” Luke whispered. He’d imagined it enough times—the sound of the cane whipping through the air, the line of fire across his butt.
“Are you as willing as your partner to sacrifice yourself if punishment is needed?”
“Yes, sir,” Luke said, locking his eyes with Tilden who was shaking his head.
“No, I won’t let them,” Tilden said, stepping towards his two partners. Luke moved forward to meet his, taking his place by his top’s side.
Milton caught his friend’s arm. “I don’t think you have that right. Mike’s right; submissives are equal partners with equal responsibilities—different than ours but equal. They have as much right to protect their partner from harm as we do. In Mike and Luke’s eyes allowing you to be caned would be placing you in harm’s way. I’m not sure I agree with their conclusion, but I understand their motivation. You can of course try to talk them out of it.” Milton shot Tilden a half smile. “But I live with Mike too, and he’s very stubborn. Gordon, do you agree?”
Gordon looked towards his partner who shrugged and nodded. “Unfortunately I must agree. Tilden you must yield to your partners’ request. I will grant their request for transference of the punishment.”
“I won’t let you touch them.” Tilden struggled in Milton’s grasp.
“Stop. He won’t harm them,” Milton growled. It was a tone that would freeze Luke in his tracks, but Tilden ignored him.
“He’s not touching my boys.”
“Do I need to take you upstairs and discuss this,” Milton whispered in Tilden’s ear only loud enough for the people standing closest to hear.
“Try it,” Tilden snarled.
“Boys.” Gordon’s voice cracked across the room like a whip.”You’re tops; behave like it. Milton, you were always a stubborn boy, but for the life of me I cannot imagine how you two have shared a house for this many years without bloodshed.”
“He’s not usually this difficult,” Milton said, not making eye contact with Gordon.
“You’re both refusing to see the forest for the trees.” Gordon snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground in front of him. “Sit down both of you.”
Milton moved back toward the chairs.
“I didn’t say move. I said sit.” Gordon’s voice made the hair on the back of Luke’s neck stand up, and his knees nearly buckled involuntarily.
Both Milton and Tilden sat, Milton sitting cross-legged and Tilden with one long leg in front of him, the other leg drawn up and his arms wrapped around it. Gordon perched on the edge of the table, his arms crossed, looking like all tops entering lecture mode.
Gordon shook his head. “I thought you two knew better.”
“Sorry, sir,” Milton said, dropping his eyes briefly to the floor before looking back up at Gordon’s face. Tilden continued to silently glare at Gordon.
“Your behavior was just as despicable, Professor Blake,” Gordon said in a deceptively mild tone. “Do you have anything to say to me?”
“No,” Tilden spat out. “You intimidated me once when I was young. I will not let you bully me into getting my boys hurt.”
“Fair enough. I never planned to. You trust Milton, don’t you?”
“Implicitly.”
“About everything but me,” Gordon said with a small laugh. “I know you’ll never trust me with a cane.” Gordon held up his hand before Tilden could interrupt. “Would you trust Milton?”
Tilden looked over at Milton and nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Very well. I believe the solution to this impasse is to have Milton cane the boys if it became necessary. Would that be satisfactory?”
Tilden looked at his two partners and then Milton.
“I’d take good care of them if I had to do it. They wouldn’t be harmed,” Milton said.
“I trust you.”
“Thank you. Luke, Mike, would that be OK with you?”
Luke and Mike nodded.
“Good,” Gordon said. “I knew we could find a solution when everyone began to speak rationally with each other. I recognize the petition for the partners of Tilden Blake to receive the punishment if Steven Meyer violates his pledge. However as neither of you have ever felt the cane, I’m going to place a condition on this. Milton you will give each boy one stroke and then I will ask the boys again. You may retreat to some place private to perform the caning.” Gordon reached under the table and handed Milton a cane.
Milton bent it in his hands as if testing its springiness. “I think in the spirit of fairness Steve should also receive one stroke. He should fully understand what we will face if he violates our trust.”
“Very well.” Gordon nodded.
“Come.” Milton stood, crooked his finger at Tilden’s two boys, and held out his hand to help Steve off the floor.
“I’d like Steve to finish his pledge before he gets up.” Gordon repeated the final words of the pledge, and Steve stumbled through them, wiping the tears from his face with his sleeve.
Milton hoisted Steve to his feet and kissed his forehead. “No one’s going to die here. I’m going to sting you once with the cane so you know what it feels like. And if worse comes to worse and we find ourselves taking twelve for you, we’ll survive. It won’t be pleasant for any of us, but no one’s ever died from twelve of the best.”
“I think our two young submissives should only take six,” Gordon’s partner said. “And that’s not just because I sympathize with my fellow subs, which of course I do. They should split Tilden’s share. They are taking his place. Milton swings a mean cane. Six will be no walk in the park.”
“I agree,” Gordon said.
Tilden reached into his pocket and handed Trent’s keys to Milton. “At least take them upstairs where they can have some privacy.”
Milton looked over at Gordon, and Gordon nodded. “I won’t harm them,” Milton mouthed at Tilden, pushing the three boys ahead of him.
“I know,” Tilden whispered.
Milton grabbed his friend into a hug. “I’ll take care of your boys.”
Milton herded all three boys upstairs. “Take your jackets off and drop your trousers. One at a time over the sofa arm. I don’t care who goes first. You can keep your underwear on.”
Luke stared at the cane. He couldn’t take his eyes off Milton’s hand wrapped around the slender rod. Mike stepped forward with a grimace and draped himself over the sofa arm. Milton laid his left hand down on Mike’s back.
“Keep your hands forward. You do not want to feel this across your fingers.”
Luke watched, mesmerized, as Milton softly tapped Mike’s butt, measuring the distance to the target. The cane whipped through the air almost faster than the eye could track. The noise wasn’t dramatic as it hit Mike’s boxer covered butt—a whistle and a light crack, like a thin branch hitting the side of the house, not the sharp smack of the paddle against bare flesh.
“Shit.” Mike’s hands flew back to cover his butt. “That’s not recommended after a spanking.” He stood up, rubbing his butt.
“No it’s not.” Milton squeezed the back of Mike’s neck. “Next please.”
Luke looked over at Steve. He was white, staring at the ground, his eyes screwed shut, holding back the tears. “It can’t be all that bad. It’s only one stroke. I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like. You know, the master caning the schoolboy.”
“This isn’t play,” Milton said severely, his eyes raking up and down Luke. “Over the sofa now. Hands in front.”
Luke stretched across the sofa, his hands grabbing the plaid cushion.
“This will hurt,” Milton said, his voiced pitch too low for the other boys to hear. “I’m sure Mike talked you into this, but I think maybe you’ve wanted a nice cane track to show off to your friends.”
Luke started to nod when he heard a swish through the air. A thin line of fire was branded from one side of his butt to the other. His breath hissed through his teeth, and he involuntarily levitated from the sofa.
“All done, my boy. You have your souvenir.”
Luke walked over to his pants and pulled them back on, hissing again as the cloth crossed the stripe. “Six of those would hurt.”
“Yes, it would.”
Luke didn’t say anything. Why was he fascinated by the idea? He now knew it hurt, and he didn’t like pain. Would Milton do five parallel lines with one angled to cross all five, or would he make six parallel lines? Stop, he told himself. This is insane.
Steve stood rooted to the ground. Milton didn’t ask him to move to the sofa. He took the boy by the shoulders and guided him into place. “Hands in front. I’ll be quick.”
The cane came down as hard and fast, as it had with the other two boys. Steve let out a wail and the tears he’d been trying to hold back unsuccessfully all night flooded down his cheeks. Milton gathered him into his arms, murmuring a litany of reassurances. The tears didn’t seem to be slowing, and Steve was now shaking. Milton sat down on the sofa and pulled Steve down on his lap.
“Will you two let Tilden know I haven’t killed you and send Josh up please.” Milton smiled over Steve’s head.
Luke gave him a worried look. The tears were out of proportion to the sting.
“It’s going to be all right. Steve’s had a hard week, and he’s mentally exhausted. He was running on nervous energy, and it all gave out. Go on now. Tilden will be worried.”
Tilden was worried. He was hovering by the stairs as his partners came down. He grabbed his boys, and ran his hands possessively down them as if checking for damage.
“We’ll live.” Mike said with a grin. “I’d hate to take six, but I’d expect we’d live through that also. I think Luke even likes it.”
Gordon, who’d been standing within earshot, eyebrows rose at that and an unsaid question formed on his lips. He looked back and forth between Tilden and Luke, but neither said anything.
Luke concentrated on staring at the floor. Was he that obvious? And was he kinky? He’d always thought the whip and chain crowd was crazy. Why had he told Mike he had an interest in caning?
“We’ll talk about it later,” Tilden whispered into Luke’s ear. “Yes, I know. Mike told me.”
Tilden grabbed Luke’s wrist before Luke could throttle Mike. “I would have found out anyway. I suspect Milton noticed. He doesn’t miss much.”
“He did,” Luke whispered, unsure if he was relieved or mortified that Tilden had found out about his fantasy.
“Where’s Steve?” Gordon asked
“Milton asked us to send Joshua up. Steve’s upset,” Luke said, glad to be back on safe ground.
“I’ll get him.” Gordon started to turn away and then turned back. “You two are very brave boys. Tilden, you should be proud of them.”
“I am.” Tilden said, wrapping his arms around both his partners.
“I assume the answer is that you’ll take the caning if it becomes necessary,” Gordon said, his thoughts already clearly on Steve.
“Of course,” Mike answered for both of them.
Gordon nodded and scanned the crowd for Joshua. He spotted the top with his partner, leaning against the fireplace and hurried toward him. Luke couldn’t hear the conversation, but Joshua grabbed Jeremiah by the hand, and they both hurried up the stairs with Gordon close on their heels. Luke turned back toward his top, not hiding his concern.
“Josh will take care of him.” Tilden pulled both Luke and Mike close. “Are you both OK?”
“Milton was careful,” Luke said and leaned against Tilden, savoring the feel and smell of his top.
“He’s always careful.” Mace said, arriving with a basket of sweets. “I thought you might need some fortification. Nothing makes a spanking heal faster than some good chocolate. Come on help yourself. Don’t stand there gawking like I’m an apparition.”
“I swear you have this kind of thing timed down to the second,” Mike said with a smile and grabbed a chocolate tart.”
“Practice. Are you going to come join the dancing. Trent’s searching out the music now. I’m sure we can find “Moscow Nights” or something.” Mace gave Tilden a slow easy smile.
“I think I’ve been volunteered,” Tilden said. “Rebyata if I have to dance you’re not getting out of this.” Tilden pushed his partners to the center of the room where the floor had been cleared and several couples were taking an experimental whirl.
Luke hesitated. It somehow seemed discourteous to be dancing when Steve had been put through the wringer. Luke, stumbled over his own two feet and looked over his shoulder at the stairwell. Still no sign of anyone.
“He’ll be all right,” Tilden whispered in Luke’s ear. “I trust Milton and look at all the red and green jacketed men dancing. Nothing tonight wasn’t planned and prepared to the utmost. They wanted a distraction to talk to Steve after the pledge. I’m sure they’ll be down shortly.”
As if Tilden had been prophetic, Jer came down the stairs, his arm wrapped around Steve, and headed toward the middle of the dance floor. Steve still looked shellshocked, but his eyes were dry, and he didn’t fight Jer when he spun him across the floor.
Steve’s reappearance seemed to have been some kind of signal because soon no one was on the sidelines and laughter filled the room. Luke, Mike, and Tilden were lost in a mass of men simply having a good time and enjoying each other’s company.
No comments:
Post a Comment