Friends and Family 9

Chapter 9

Trent draped his arm around Blade’s shoulder and guided him into the kitchen. Boy, brat, submissive, Sheldon’s brother, Milton’s rescue project—Trent wasn’t really sure what Blade was.  Milton had walked into the restaurant this morning and asked Trent to keep an eye on Blade, not an odd request if Milton considered Blade his boy. Blade looked like a confused and desperate submissive this morning, scared and oscillating between hostile and clinging.

“You can help me prepare the sandwiches and soup for lunch. Mace will handle the customers up front.” Keep Blade’s hands busy, give him something to focus on, that usually settled a boy. Trent hoped it would calm Blade. Trent didn’t want to be Blade’s introduction to this world.

“I don’t cook.”

“You do now. Wash your hands, and chop those vegetables for me. Do you know how to use a knife?”

“I’m not an idiot. I can chop things.”

Trent reached around for the knife. “Like this; it’s faster. I need all this chopped.” Trent pointed Blade at a pile of salad ingredients. “When the college is on break, we do a simple menu of soup, salad, and sandwiches. After you’re finished with the vegetables, you can start on the sandwiches.”

“I’m not a kitchen slave.” Blade dropped the knife on the counter, spun around, and dramatically crossed his arms. “Are you going to put me in the corner or whack me like Josh did if I don’t do your bidding?”

“Come sit with me, kiddo.” Trent reached out for Blade’s wrist to guide him over to the small table, but the boy jerked away. “Would you like some cocoa?”  Trent, not waiting for an answer, set a small saucepan on the stove and opened the refrigerator for the milk. Blade was at an age where cocoa should appeal to him, and if he’d been fighting with Joshua this morning he probably hadn’t eaten. He might drink coffee, but many of the young college kids drank Coke for breakfast. With a wired Zath, Trent didn’t think sugared and caffeinated soda was the best choice; hot chocolate was soothing. “Whipped cream with it?”

“Do you have chocolate sprinkles?”

“I can do chocolate shavings.”

Blade nodded, looking innocent and bashful. Trent took a bar of bittersweet from the dry storage and grated fine flakes onto a sheet of parchment. He poured two mugs of cocoa and topped both with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. “Stop pacing and come sit down; you’re ruining my appetite.”

“I don’t want to sit down.”

“Be nice. I made you chocolate with homemade sprinkles and everything. It will taste better if you sit down and relax.”

Blade sat down, his expression warring between argumentative and embarrassed. He wrapped his hands around the mug and took a long drink. “That’s good.”

“I’ve been told I make good cocoa,” Trent said with an easy smile and straddled the stool across from Blade. “Do you want something to eat? I’m good with eggs and bacon. I can even do beans and make a real cowboy breakfast.”

Blade made a face at the sound of beans. “Joshua made me eat that horrid oatmeal.”

“No oatmeal, I promise,” Trent said, smiling again. This kid needed reassurance. He was doing a pretty good imitation of those broncos Mace used to ride, eyes rolling around and searching hard for the quickest escape route.

Blade shook his head and took another sip of cocoa. “You’re being nice to me.”

“Was Joshua not nice to you this morning?”

Blade’s face colored, and he swirled his drink in the mug. “He was bossy.”

“Did he swat you?” Trent asked, guessing from the color of Blade’s cheeks that Joshua had done more than tossed a few stern words in Blade’s direction.

“He swatted me and put me in the corner. Sheldon was upset with me also even when I tried to help him. Joshua grabbed Sheldon and washed his mouth out. He let Joshua do it, didn’t fight him.”

Trent nodded. “That was unsettling, wasn’t it?” 

“It was mean.” Blade rested his head on his folded arms, a classic pout on his face.

Trent wanted to groan. He remembered his first few months renting from Milton and Tilden. Milton hadn’t delivered a full blown spanking in front of Trent, but it had taken willful disassociation not to see the ramifications of their relationship. With Blade caught in the line of fire, he’d have to face the reality that he was a submissive, and if Milton’s expression was any guide that reality was going to involve a quick trip over a top’s knee. Joshua soaping Sheldon’s mouth had unsettled the boy; he’d never cope with a spanking. Trent took a deep breath, trying to settle himself. He needed to sound calm and matter of fact. It wasn’t his job to explain tops and consequences to baby subs; he’d barely been able to do it with Mace. Without Milton and Josh, he’d never have done it, but, Trent thought, he owed them. They’d rescued him, and it wouldn’t be right not to return the favor. Mace would laugh and call it a top’s overblown sense of duty, but Trent knew Mace expected him to help. Mace had taken one look at Blade and shooed the both of them into the kitchen with a soft smile and a gentle touch on Blade’s shoulder.

“How much do you understand about power exchanges?” Trent asked, trying for the calm instructional tone that Milton was so good at.

Blade didn’t look up, his finger traced a loop around the mug. “I’m a brat like the television show, aren’t I?”

“What do you think, kiddo?”

“Does that mean Milton’s going to spank me? He spanks my brother, doesn’t he? That’s why he wanted to be alone. I hate this.” Blade’s voice had become higher pitched, and he turned away from Trent, unsuccessfully trying to hide his tears with anger.

The table in the kitchen was small. It was more of an extra work space than a real table with stools pulled under it to rest weary legs. Trent reached around its narrow surface, grabbed Blade’s wrist, and with a sharp tug pulled so the boy crashed into him. The stool didn’t offer much purchase for getting someone on his lap, but Trent had done it once or twice with Mace, and Blade was smaller. “Shh. You’re safe here. No one is going to do anything you don’t want.”

“Will Milton spank me?”

“Do you want him to top you?”

Blade didn’t answer.

“Do you know what a top does, or have you only caught glimpses between Milton and Sheldon and that trash on TV? I’m a top, and I, at least, would call what we’re doing right now topping. Milton’s helping you in school, and while I don’t know all the details, he helped you sort out your issues with Mary.”

“He was great,” Blade said, chewing on his lower lip. “He was calm, and I think Mary’s happy. I screwed that up.”

“You’re young.” Trent brushed the scattered red hair off Blade’s forehead. “Lean on Milton. He’s good at it. I’ve leaned on him a few times.”

“He’s topped you?”

“Not exactly. We’re both tops, but I have deferred to Milton’s experience and judgment. It doesn’t make you less of a man to ask for help.”

“To be spanked?”

“Topping is a lot more than spankings. I’ve been over Josh’s knee, and I don’t think I’m any less a man for it. It takes a special courage to submit to someone like that.” 

“Josh spanked you?” Blade’s voice was more animated than it’d been all morning.

“Yes, and don’t gloat. It’s not becoming. I took some persuading to top Mace, and Josh provided a hands on demonstration,” Trent said with a wry grin. “I wouldn’t want to make a habit of it, but I learned from it, and Josh was kind and gentle.”

“Milton didn’t seem gentle this morning. He was angry.”

“That was for Sheldon’s benefit. He’ll be gentle with you. Are you afraid of him?”

Blade shook his head. “I don’t want to be spanked.”

“That’s why it works, kiddo.”

“I still don’t want to be spanked.”

“But you’d like Milton to be in charge You’d like to submit?”

“I guess,” Blade said, toying with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“You guess?” Trent said, his eyebrows rising. “I think you can do better than that. You showed up on his doorstep, asking for help.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Blade tried to jerk off Trent’s lap. “My brother...”

Trent ran his head down Blade’s back. The kid was scared, afraid of his own feelings. He was radiating submissive characteristics, but Trent preferred a more hands off approach. Where was Milton, Josh, or even Tilden when they were needed? Any of them could explain this relationship far better than Trent. Mace was straightforward. A few rules enforced consistently and some unexciting kink in bed, and the rest was plain sailing, or at least Trent liked to think of it that way. Honestly, he remembered several frantic phone calls to Josh, and Tilden spending a night commiserating over Trent’s inability to successfully top. Tilden had refilled the samovar twice, and they’d both eaten an entire plate of cookies which had been destined for the cafe. “Am I scaring you now?”

“No, you’re nice.”

“Don’t you think Milton’s nice?”

Blade flushed. “He took me in; he didn’t have to. He’s much better than my parents in a crisis. Not that my parents would have left me on the street,” Blade said hurriedly. “They’re not those kind of people, and they’ve put up with a lot from me.”

Too much, Trent thought, but he didn’t voice his opinion. 

“My parents act—I don’t know—burdened when things happen. It seems natural for Milton”

“Milton’s a top. It’s natural for him to take charge. How did it make you feel?”

Blade shrugged.

“You don’t get to evade my questions,” Trent said, keeping his voice easy. “We tops like an answer to a direct question.”

“I felt relieved. I didn’t know what to do and he did. I don’t know—he didn’t ask either. He made the decisions and told me what was going to happen. Is that a top thing?” Blade’s voice was a murmur, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“Sometimes,” Trent said with a smile. “Does taking charge make someone not nice?”

“No, but spanking does.”

“It goes with the territory, kiddo. If a top’s going to take charge, he needs sanctions to make sure his rules are followed. That’s what the spankings are about. A boy decides how much spanking is needed. Follow the rules, and it doesn’t happen. Finish your cocoa. Do you want more?”

Blade shook his head. He stared at his cocoa for a moment before looking up at Trent, his eyes questioning.

“You can ask me. I’m not going to get mad.”

“If I were your… your brat, would you spank me for last night?”

“Yep.”

“Why?” Blade asked, his eyes wide.

Trent laughed. “You have the innocent act down pat already. You have to know.”

“We were just out having a little fun.”

“How old are you?” Trent asked, putting a little sharpness in his voice.

“Eighteen.”

“What’s the drinking age in this state?”

“Twenty-one, but everyone drinks. It’s a silly law.”

“It’s the law. A boy of mine doesn’t break the law. You used false ID, I presume.”

Blade nodded.

“Give it to me.”

“It’s mine,” Blade protested, but he was already reaching in his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s illegal.” Trent held his hand out and waited until Blade jerked the ID from his wallet and tossed it toward Trent. Trent raised his eyebrows at the minor display of temper. “Thank you. Where did you tell Milton and Joshua you were going?”

“To the movies, but they’re such busybodies. ‘What are you doing today? Have you finished your essay? Did you talk to Mary today? Have you talked to your parents today?’” Blade mocked. “Milton’s an impossible busybody.”

“It’s what tops do; you’d better get used to it, kiddo. We’re making decisions for you, and we’re not mind readers. We need to know how you feel? Do you understand?”

“It feels like prying.”

“I understand.” Trent shifted, so his arm was casually flung over Blade’s shoulder. “It was hard for Mace and me. We both came from a long line of the strong silent type. Milton used to browbeat me into talking to Mace. It was like a perverse game of twenty questions if I didn’t know exactly what Mace was doing and thinking. I think Mace used to inform Milton first just to watch Milton interrogate me.”

“I was never that mean,” Mace said with a grin from the door. “Are you guys going to finish the lunch prep or just chat the morning away?”

“Behave,” Trent mock growled at his partner.

“I am,” Mace said, his eyes laughing. “This young whippersnapper needs to be taught all about us boys on this side of the divide. I’m only helping him learn.”

Trent smiled to himself. It was unusual for Mace to openly identify himself as a boy with anyone but Sheldon, and with Sheldon, Mace usually let Milton’s firebrand partner take the lead. Mike and Luke had started to bring a more open side of Mace to the surface, and Trent wondered if Mace was going to fall into the role of elder, wiser submissive with Blade. 

Blade struggled off Trent’s lap, grabbed the remains of his cocoa, and hunched over the counter, fiddling with the half diced carrots. 

“You didn’t need to get up,” Mace said easily. “Nothing’s going on out front, only a few old biddies drinking tea and gossiping. I can do the lunch prep. Mace moved to stand next to Blade and picked up the knife. “Hang in there, kid. Let the tops do their thing. They’re good at it.”

Trent could see Blade swallow a retort. He’d probably wanted to say something sarcastic about spanking but had been afraid to expose his feeling in front of Mace. It was a hard subject to talk about; Trent thought he’d never talk about it with the same ease as Milton. Of course Milton had grown up inside a power exchange. For him, it was as normal as the white picket fence, two kids, a dog, and the new Buick. “Kiddo, we all know what’s going on; nothing in our family is a secret, and I consider our housemates family. We’re here if you want to talk.”

“Whatever.” Blade kept his shoulders turned away, the belligerence back in his voice.

“Steady, cowboy, you’ll get yourself in trouble,” Mace said, his drawl more distinct.

“Fuck it. I’m already going to be Milton’s whipping boy.” Blade wiped at his face.

“Young man, that’s enough. I’m going to find a corner for you, and you’re going to settle down before you find yourself in trouble with me.” Trent rested his hands on Blade’s shoulders and steered him toward the empty corner in the kitchen. This was Mace’s corner. Back when they’d first started this arrangement, Trent had cleared a corner in every room. Trent couldn’t remember the last time he’d used it. Mace responded to a quiet warning, or in the rare case he didn’t, Trent would send him upstairs where their privacy was guaranteed. Mace didn’t need watched in the corner; Blade would. At least today, they were the only help in the shop; Trent wouldn’t need to dream up a creative response if someone walked in. He’d seen Milton corner Sheldon in public. Milton would casually lean against the wall reading a paper or pretending to search his bag, all the while creating a privacy screen for Sheldon, assuming the public would only see what they expected to see. Trent preferred real privacy.

“I’m not doing this,” Blade whined, grabbing at the counter with his hands and bracing against Trent. “I’m eighteen. I’m too old to be put in the corner.”

Blade looked and sounded anything but too old for the corner. Trent kept the steady pressure on Blade’s shoulders. “It’s a chance to regroup, not a demeaning punishment. I don’t want to swat you.”

“Fuck you and all you fucking tops. Why don’t you just spank me and get it over with.” Blade grabbed a handful of chopped carrots and hurled them at Trent. Blade reached back again, his fingers scrabbling across the knife on the cutting board.

Trent with a firm grip pulled Blade back from the counter and wrapped his arms around the struggling boy. “Stop now. You do not throw things in the kitchen no matter how angry or scared you are. It’s dangerous. We’re going to go upstairs and have a discussion.” Trent pushed the still struggling Blade in front of him. Trent tried to catch his partner’s eye. Mace would understand that Trent meant to spank this wild-eyed, red-haired menace, and Trent wanted his partner’s approval. Trent didn’t spank other people’s boys—well, at least not until now—and Blade wasn’t even technically someone else’s boy.  He was an uninitiated submissive. Trent had never handled a submissive with no experience; Josh had taken Mace over his knee, and Josh had vast experience, and like Milton, he radiated authority. No one sane of mind questioned his orders.

Trent caught the half smile on Mace’s lips, a combination of reassurance and wry amusement at the situation. “Take care of it, pardner, I’ll hold the homestead,” Mace said in an undertone. Trent nodded, relieved to have his partner’s support.

The upstairs was quiet with the same shabby comfort that had always met Trent when he guided Mace up the stairs: the well worn sofa, the slight musty smell of boxed books and closed windows.

Trent sat on the sofa, feeling the springs poke into his thighs as he drew Blade in front of him. Blade had stopped fighting on the way up the stairs and stood facing Trent, his face hot and tear stained. 

“I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you. No one throws things in my kitchen.” Trent didn’t wait but reached forward and unbuckled Blade’s jeans before guiding the young man over his knees. He slid down Blade’s boxers, keeping a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulders. Trent wrapped his hand around Blade’s hips before letting his other hand fall with medium strength. He’d done this with Mace but never with a non partner and especially never with a total novice. Blade yelped, but he didn’t try to pull away. If anything he was less resistant than he’d been all morning. Trent continued to let his hand fall, watching and listening closely. He knew instinctively with Mace when to stop, but this was Blade. Trent knew to expect tears; with Mace they came at the end, soft and remorseful. Blade had started with tears, and now Trent hoped to hear a change of tone. The rump over his thighs was turning red; Blade flinched at each slap but didn’t try to escape. The tears were flowing in a steady stream. Blade clutched the couch cushion as Trent landed the last spank. 

Trent hoped it was enough. Blade’s cries had solidified into a solid stream, and he hung heavy over Trent’s lap. Trent hadn’t spanked hard; but it was the kid’s first time, and unless Milton had a sudden personality change Blade was in for a second round. 

Trent pulled the boxers up, smiling at the cartoon characters scampering across the cotton. This kid was young. Trent ran his hand over the boy’s shoulder; Blade made no effort to crawl off Trent’s lap or pull himself upright. “It’s all over, kid. You’re square with me. Come on; sit up now.” Trent pulled Blade up, spreading his legs to give the boy a comfortable place to sit. “Good job, kiddo. I’ve got you now.”

Blade snuggled against Trent’s shirt, unashamedly letting the tears fall. “I’m sorry,” Blade choked out as he sniffled, his head still buried against Trent.

“I’ve got you. Cry all you need to.” Trent tightened his arms around Blade. This was a sweet boy; he’d dropped into Trent’s arms like he belonged there.

“I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass earlier.”

“Enough. We’re square, and I mean that.” Trent brushed the red hair off the freckled forehead. He could see the Zath bloodlines: mercurial, sweet, and exasperating at all the same time. This kid was a handful, but without a doubt he had the charm, soft and pliable in his arms, and cute as the proverbial button. He was going to be hell for some top down the road. 

The crying had lessened and Trent shifted the light burden on his lap. “Let’s get you washed up and go back downstairs. My name’s going to be mud with Mace if I leave him with all the work.” Trent eased Blade to his feet, escorted him to the sink, and washed the young man’s face. Blade was worrisomely compliant, standing limp as Trent toweled Blade’s face and neck. “Buck up, kiddo. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Milton’s going to do that again?”

“I expect so, but he won’t just haul you over his lap and start pounding on you. He’ll talk with you; he’s a good top.”

“I cried.”

“Yep, it’s expected.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? Oh, Blade,” Trent said, looping an arm around the kid’s neck and pulling him close. “I’ve seen lots of tears, and I know Milton’s seen oceans of tears. Did Sheldon cry this morning?”

Blade nodded, a confused look on his face.

“Josh is safe for tears. Sheldon trusts him.”

“I don’t like to cry.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’ll probably see Milton cry this afternoon.”

“Why?”

Trent tousled Blade’s hair, trying to get his thoughts in order. “You understand that Steve is a submissive and lives under Joshua’s protection. Right?”

“Sort of. Why is he with Joshua?”

“Steve had a run in with the college authorities and Milton and Josh being the good tops they are—you would call them busybodies—stepped in and bailed Steve out. In exchange, they agreed to be responsible for his behavior.”

“So they’ll spank him,” Blade interrupted, wincing on the word spank.”

“It’s not that simple. Josh and Milton agreed to become responsible for Steve’s behavior. They will be punished.”

“How? It’s not like the college’s going to spank them. That’s absurd.”

“No, Gordon will cane them,” Trent said, deciding the direct approach would be easiest.

“Who in the hell is Gordon?”

“A close friend of Milton’s and head of the Green Mountain Boys. They hold the pledge.”

“Hold the pledge?” Blade echoed.

“The Green Mountain Boys is an organization for men in a power exchange. Milton’s granddad was one of the founders. They uphold the traditions of these relationships, and the idea of pledging for your submissive is considered one of the grand traditions.”

“Sounds crazy.”

“It’s not my thing,” Trent said with a soft laugh, “but Milton and Josh are important members and take it seriously. Sheldon knew about the pledge and understood the consequences.”

“Last night’s partying got Milton in trouble. That’s rich.” Blade didn’t hide his smile. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

“Blade.”

Blade’s eyes drop at the tone. “Don’t be mad.” A pleading whine crept into his tone.

“Oh kiddo, you are confused.” Trent pulled the young man into a hug. “I’m not mad, but do you think this is anything either Milton or Sheldon is going to enjoy?”

“No,” Blade said in a small voice, ashamed at his earlier glee.

Trent rubbed his hand across Blade’s shoulders. This wasn’t his gig. Why was he trying to explain this relationship to a young Zath? Trent hadn’t even been able to explain it to his own partner; Joshua and Milton had done all the hard work. They talked about the brotherhood of dominants and a dominant’s responsibility to all submissives, but Trent had always dismissed it as fancy hoo-ha, preferring to remain private and incognito.

“Milton and Sheldon have been good to you, haven’t they?” Trent asked in a soft voice.

Blade nodded, wiping a stray tear from his face.

“They care. You’re family, and you’re also a brat, which gives you a special place in Milton’s heart. He’s going to top you. I could tell by the proprietary way he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders this morning and the expression on his face. It will be hard at first. He’s not an easy top.”

“He’ll spank me.”

“Yep, but I just spanked you. Was it all that terrible?”

Blade hesitated for a moment. “Not really, but I didn’t like it.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, brat” Trent teased, glad to find a way to lighten the conversation. “If you liked it, we’d all be in trouble—a Zath on the loose.”

Blade smiled, but his expression still looked troubled. “Sheldon probably hates me now. I got him in a lot of trouble.”

“Sheldon got himself in trouble, and he knows that. Your brother loves you and wants to help. Talk to him.” Trent ruffled the red hair under his hand. “You game to go downstairs now? Mace will accuse me of shirking my work.”

Blade nodded but stayed tightly plastered against Trent.

“Come on, kiddo. I won’t abandon you to the savages.”