Texas, Our Texas 5

Texas, Our Texas

Chapter 5

Milton remembered dining here as a gawky eighteen-year-old; the food was always perfectly prepared, and the service was impeccable. The waiters moved with silent precision, the water glasses filled by unseen hands and even the tiniest of crumbs brushed from the starched white tablecloths. Milton had been intimidated by the array of shining silver and crystal goblets, the quiet hush of formal dining, and the air of anticipation that he didn’t understand until after the meal. Gordon had kept him well focused, his hand sliding across Milton’s knee under the heavy tablecloth and the quiet, directed conversation about forks and shallots. Gordon had ordered the food, not allowing Milton to see the menu. The waiter had addressed all enquiries to Gordon as if Milton had been invisible. Milton smiled at the memory; it hadn’t been pleasant at the time, but time did soften the harsh edges of reality. When Gordon had ordered the steak with a baked potato, Milton had protested, wanting fries or onion rings. 

“Boy, I have made my choice.”

Milton, with the bullheadedness of a typical teenager, hadn’t deferred to Gordon’s wishes and found himself stunningly quickly stripped of his pants and over Gordon’s knee. It hadn’t been a hard spanking by any means, but Milton had fought the mortification rising in his chest. The sound of flesh against flesh was distinctive. The near silence of silver against china and muted conversation had done nothing to hide or mask the sound.

“Lay still, boy. This can be far worse.” Milton had frozen at the warning, willing himself to hang limply over Gordon’s lap. He already knew what far worse meant, punishments that truly hurt and blazing lectures that made Milton want to curl up inside himself and die. 

“Good boy,” Gordon had responded to the now quiet Milton, landing one final swat, pulling him to his feet, and dressing him as quickly as he’d divested him of his clothes earlier.

Milton had sat stunned, staring at the consommé that appeared a moment later until Landon had prodded him with his elbow. 

“Come.” Landon had held out his hand and pulled Milton up from the table. “It wasn’t as bad as you thought.” Milton hadn’t wanted to move from their secluded corner of the dining room, but a sharp glare from Gordon which promised another humiliating spanking sent Milton to his feet, and he’d reluctantly taken Landon’s hand. For an eighteen-year-old the walk around the club had been an illuminating and overwhelming experience. Like most eighteen-year-olds, Milton had thought he knew something about sex; it certainly had never been far from his mind. 

“Different than you imagine?” Landon had asked with a slight smile. “Frightening too, I bet, but you won’t admit that to me. Young dominants are too tough and manly to admit that to us old guys, especially us old submissives.”

Milton had thought of Landon and Gordon as old, even though they weren’t any older than he was now. To and eighteen-year-old, everyone over twenty-five had been old.

“No one will think less of you because Gordon put you over his knee. Most of these guys are probably ferociously jealous, the submissives because they long for someone as masterful as Gordon to take them in hand, and the dominants because it’s already obvious the top you’re going to be. It won’t be long before I will say sir to you. You have that, Milton; I’ve known many dominants, and you’re going to be very special. I defer to Gordon, and I trust him absolutely; someday I will do that for you also. It’s a rare honor.”

“I’m not ready for this. I’m not sure I want this. What if I hurt someone?”

“Not now, I know. For now, you are Gordon’s boy. Let him teach you. Enjoy it when the responsibility is on his shoulders and not yours. That will come soon enough.”

“And I have to let him order my food and spank me in public?”

“He’ll do a lot more to you before he’s done, but yes is the short answer. You’re not a submissive by nature. We all know that, but in order for you to become the dom you’re destined to become, you must accept the discipline and the submission. It won’t be safe any other way. You are too strong, too intense, but I also know you are kind, caring, and protective. It would crush your soul to harm a boy, and the best way to prevent harm is to understand what it feels like to be a boy. We will not harm you. You may hate Gordon; you may even hate me at times, but we both hope you grow into a man you can be proud of, a man who can look honestly at himself in the mirror every morning and say I am proud that I am Milton Brown, and I live a good life.”

“And this has something do with it?” Milton had waved his free arm around to encompass the glass cases filled with straps and rings and things he didn’t want to imagine.

“It can.” Landon had smiled enigmatically. “Enjoying these things is not wrong. They can all be part of a loving and fulfilling relationship. You’re a dominant; don’t hide from your nature. When you hide or deny your nature, that’s when it becomes unsafe and hateful.”

“My grandfather and Uncle Doug don’t do this,” Milton had said in a shocked tone, still not able to draw his eyes away from the weird collection of leather.

“Every couple finds their own place along the spectrum. Andrew and Doug are a reserved couple.”

Landon had refused to say any more. Later Milton had found out more in excruciatingly uncomfortable conversations with his parents. Like all good parents, they had kept the details of their sex life private from a growing boy, but unlike many parents they hadn’t pretended sex was something that only happened to others while they wiled the evening away with books and checkers. After the first summer with Landon and Gordon, Uncle Doug had taken Milton out to the barn among the cattle munching hay from the feeders and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt before fingering the thin necklace that lay flat against his skin.

“I’m Andrew’s submissive, his collared boy. I thought you were old enough to know.” Silently he’d re-buttoned his shirt and had wrapped an arm around Milton’s shoulders. “I’m still your Uncle Doug, but someday I may need you in the other role. You’re a top. We’ve known for a long time.”

“Do you...” Milton had let the sentence trail off. He didn’t want to know that about his parents.

Uncle Doug had smiled knowingly and squeezed Milton’s shoulder. “It’s better not to imagine that about your parents, I know. We’re not Gordon and Landon; I think that boy is a little crazy. Milton, I know this stuff is hard to think about and hard to talk about. I practiced for days,” Uncle Doug had said with a rueful smile, “but people like us are not on every street corner. We want you to know you’re not alone, and you don’t need to hide. We are here, and we understand. You’re not crazy, abusive, a controlling bastard, or any of the other names that some well meaning people might use to describe our activities. You know Andy and I love each other, and that is what you must always remember as you grow into yourself. You will love and care for your partner; it just might not look like the prince and his beautiful bride in the fairy tale, but it will still be love.”

Milton dropped his hand under the table and stroked Sheldon’s thigh. He wanted the contact; he wanted to see the slight smile on Sheldon’s lip and the nearly invisible squirm as Milton’s hand moved seductively closer to more sensitive areas. He loved Sheldon; his boy held Milton’s heart in his hands. Could this ever happen with Samuel and Jonah? Milton’s instinct was to call Jonah’s behavior unforgivable and chase the man to the farthest corners of the earth, but Jonah hadn’t been raised by Grandfather and Uncle Doug. No one had ever affirmed his choice of sexual partners. Milton knew the history of Texas; he had read the terrorizing reports prepared by the G&L Foundation. Jonah had been abused by his family, his society. How could he know how to love his boy? He couldn’t love himself. Milton bent and kissed Sheldon’s cheek, tracing his fingers through Sheldon’s hair.

“Are you all right?” Sheldon whispered, studying Milton’s face.

Milton kissed Sheldon on the lips, letting his tongue slip through those inviting lips. His boy, his love, his life. He was so damn lucky. Sheldon was soft and compliant, leaning toward Milton, silently asking for more.

“I love you. Do what you will tonight. I trust you,” Sheldon said softly and licked his lips, begging for another kiss.

“My sweet boy.” Milton traced his finger around those waiting lips. “I will, my boy. I will.”

The waiter stepped from behind a column with a deliberate clink of the ice within a pitcher. “Your order, sir.” His eyes moved between Gordon and Milton, unsure who to address.

“This is my treat,” Gordon said smoothly, relieving the choice from the waiter’s mind. He ordered with his usual quiet authority, obviously knowing each man’s preference. “Professor Brown will have the onion rings instead of the baked potato. He is particularly fond of them.”

Milton tried to keep his eyes stern as he shot a glance at Gordon, but he couldn’t stop the small smile on the corner of his lips. 

“I know my boys, and you deserve them,” Gordon said after the waiter had left.”

“I get asparagus and oven roasted potatoes,” Sheldon said with a teasing pout. “How’d you rate onion rings?”

 “He’s the dominant, boy.” Gordon said with more seriousness than Milton expected. “You need to remember your place.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheldon said, hearing the rebuke in the tone and dropping he eyes, stung by Gordon’s words.

“Sheldon, remember where we are,” Milton said in a mild tone. He saw the understanding on Sheldon’s face. “Good boy. I need you in the right mindset. It will be more fun if you go there easily.” Sheldon shivered at the implication but nodded an affirmation. “Good boy,” Milton repeated, stroking the slightly flushed cheeks.

Jonah had been sitting stiffly through the whole exchange. He was seated next to Samuel, but he hadn’t moved his chair close or dropped his hand under the table to touch his boy. He sat next to Samuel as if he were a stranger.

“Do you understand what Gordon and Milton are doing?” Landon asked, his eyes steady on Jonah’s tense features.

“No,” Jonah said, gripping the water goblet with white knuckles.

“They’re putting Sheldon in the right head space. Milton and Sheldon are going to play after dinner. It will only be fun if both of them are ready. Let them teach you how to love, to not be ashamed of themselves but to revel in their love and their dominance and submission.”

“Revel in a public display. That’s scaring the shit out of me. Ow!” Sheldon squeaked as Milton’s hand landed on his thigh in a hard slap. 

“Language, boy. I can start the evening off with a spanking if that will help.” A spanking would settle Sheldon, but Milton hoped to use a hand spanking in play, and he preferred for Sheldon not to be sore before he started. Sheldon liked to be spanked, and he was asking for one, but tonight Milton hoped to show him it could be outside the context of discipline, even the often invented need for discipline.

Sheldon flushed, but didn’t answer.

“Try to wait and we’ll have fun with it,” Milton whispered in Sheldon’s ear. “We’ll give everyone a good spectacle and show our Texans how it’s done.”

Sheldon groaned. “Why am I not pleased by this?”

“You will be,” Milton said with a smile and kissed Sheldon again. 

“Move your chair closer. Put your arm around Samuel’s shoulders.” Gordon barked. 

“What?” Jonah stuttered.

“See how Milton loves his boy, touches his boy. He doesn’t act like Sheldon’s a stranger. Touch Samuel. You’re supposed to love him. We’ve kept you apart for two weeks.” Gordon ruffled his fingers through Landon’s hair as if to provide an example.

“I can’t,” Jonah mumbled into his plate, his jaw clenched.

“You must,” Gordon said flatly.

The color drained from Jonah’s face, and his fingers clutched at the tablecloth that he repeatedly wrinkled and smoothed. He swallowed hard, his eyes still focused on the table. Gordon started to shift in his seat, and Jonah visibly flinched, but his hands didn’t move closer to Samuel. It was Samuel who broke the deadlock. He covered Jonah’s hand with his own and entwined his fingers among his partner’s.

“They touch here. I like it. It’s not Texas. No one will drag me away. You won’t be fired from your job,” Samuel said softly, but clearly. “I want you to hold me the way Milton does with Sheldon.”

“We’re not alone,” Jonah hissed.

“I think far more wild things will happen tonight,” Samuel said and shifted closer to Jonah. “Please, I’ve missed you.”

Milton could see the faint wetness in Samuel’s eyes. Was Jonah an idiot? Could he not see what Samuel was trying to do for him? Samuel was trying to save him, a man who seemed well short of redeeming qualities as far as Milton could tell, a man whose heart had been frozen by the bitterness of Texas.

“It’s easy,” Milton said and lifted Sheldon into his lap, kissing him far more demonstratively than he usually would. “Put Samuel on your lap. Put your arms around him.”

“I’m not cuddly,” Jonah said, his lips barely moving in his frozen face as he talked.

“Not cuddly or afraid?” Milton asked. “No one will notice a man in your lap, or if they do it will be because they are jealous. Samuel is beautiful, and he has a genuine innocence that is very appealing.”

“He’s mine.” Jonah wrapped his arm around Samuel and pulled his boy into his lap. Samuel, to Milton’s surprise as he’d never seen the boy be demonstrative or forceful, wrapped his arms around Jonah’s neck and kissed him solidly.

“I missed you. I want to stay with you,” Samuel said, resting his head on Jonah’s chest.

Jonah flushed, his eyes darting around the room, his breathing rapid.

“It’s safe,” Gordon said, leaning across the table toward Jonah. “It’s very safe here.”

“I can’t do this.” Jonah stood and slid Samuel from his lap. “I can’t do this.” He turned and fled.

“I’ve got it,” Milton said, trying not to look at the hurt on Samuel’s face. He’d be too angry to deal with Jonah if he let himself absorb Samuel’s pain. Such a sweet boy. He didn’t deserve this. No one deserved to be born in Texas, not even Jonah. Milton had to remember that Samuel seemed to love that man. He must have some redeemable qualities.

Jonah was moving quickly, deeper into the maze of rooms and hallways. He didn’t seem to notice the naked boy on a leash as he plunged forward. Uniformed Forest employees walked the corridors, occasionally peeking into the rooms to restock or check on the participants. The Forest prided themselves on their safety.

A broad shouldered man in the dark green jacket of The Forrest stepped in Jonah’s path, catching his wrist and drawing him close in a practiced move.

“Get off me,” Jonah snarled, flailing in the man’s grip.

“Did your dominant hurt you?” the man asked in a sympathetic tone, but didn’t loosen his grip. “Do you need help?”

“I’m not a boy. Get off me.”

“Steady. Is this your dom?” the man asked, nodding toward Milton.

“He’s with me.” Milton didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

“Sir, are you sure you’re both all right?” The green jacketed man shifted so his body was shielding Jonah’s.

Milton smiled both to defuse the obvious protective instinct of the staff member and at the thought of Jonah seeking protection under the shelter of a strange dominant. Jonah would be horrified at the idea. “We are not all right, but I will not harm him.”

“Come. I will mediate.” The man turned, expecting Milton to follow and keeping his arm solidly around Jonah, not giving him a choice.

“I don’t need mediation. I need out of this freak house,” Jonah said through gritted teeth, waves of fury radiating off his body.

 “Sir, back away.” 

Milton moved back two steps, giving this dominant a bemused smile. This dominant was good, and he was behaving appropriately in the face of an apparently frantic submissive: offering safety and comfort to Jonah and keeping a potentially dangerous Milton at arm’s length. 

“You’re safe here. We’ll sort this out.” The green jacketed man rubbed Jonah’s back, ignoring his obvious flinching. “No one will hurt you.”

“Leave me alone,” Jonah shouted, struggling again in the strange dom’s arms.

“Steady. It would be irresponsible for me to let you run out in the street in this condition. I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t want to do this. Let me go. I want to go home,” Jonah said, ceasing to struggle, but still breathing hard.

“Good boy. You’re safe now. We’ll sort this out.” The man guided Jonah down the hall, sparing Milton only a quick nod to indicate he should follow.

They entered a brightly lit room furnished with oversized sofas and colorful throw rugs. The walls were a sunny yellow with several painting of bright lines and shapes in bold colors. It had obviously been designed to make a sharp contrast with the rest of the club. A smart decision, Milton thought, admiring the club’s thoroughness in even the smallest of details. The sharp separation of decorating styles was an additional aid in bringing a distressed boy out of submissive head space and to a place where a real conversation could take place. The colors and patterns would remind people of their kitchen, their kindergarten, or their childhood.

Milton chose a whicker sofa with a nearly lurid floral pattern on the far side of the room. He would give this top, who was strongly in protection mode, plenty of breathing room. The top pulled Jonah down onto the sofa closest to the door, encouraging Jonah to lean against him.

“I’m Ryan. I’m tasked with the unenviable job of mediating any disputes,” Ryan said with an easy smile. “Let’s start by getting acquainted.”

Milton reached into his breast pocket and withdrew his wallet. He drew out two cards and held them out to Ryan. “I am Milton Brown. My driver’s license and Green Mountain Boy identification if you care to examine them.” Milton saw the startle of recognition when he said his name.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this man is showing clear signs of distress. I must continue with this interview.”

“I understand, and I would be disappointed if you didn’t. Might I ask a small favor? Could you inform our table mates of the reason for the delay?”

“Certainly, sir. Who are you dining with tonight?”

“Mr. Lewis and Mr. Graves.” Ryan wasn’t able to camouflage his reaction. “Do your job. We strongly believe in informed consent. Gordon would applaud your intervention.”

Ryan shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “At this stage I’m required to continue the interview. I’m sorry, sir.” Ryan pulled a small computing device from his pocket and sent a quick message, no doubt alerting others to inform Gordon and Landon.

“There is no need to apologize for performing your duty. My first duty as a Green Mountain Boy is protection and education of all participants in a power exchange relationship. I’m afraid I pushed Jonah too hard. I have overstepped my bounds. I wanted to make Jonah uncomfortable; I had no intention of driving him to flee from the table.”

Jonah flushed and drew his legs up on the sofa, wrapping his arms around them in a surprisingly open display of defense and comfort seeking. “I overreacted,” he mumbled in an almost inaudible tone.

“I was the senior dominant in the exchange. The result or failure in this case rests on my shoulders,” Milton said.

“What precipitated your run down the corridor?” Ryan asked in a practiced neutral tone.

Jonah flushed again. “He wanted me to touch my partner,” Jonah said in a pained whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You’re not causing trouble,” Ryan said easily. “I have to earn my pay. Jonah what’s your last name?”

“Spencer, Jonah Spencer.”

“Mr. Spencer can you relate in as much detail as possible the events of the evening?”

“I’ve not been hurt. I wasn’t assaulted,” Jonah said sharply, pulling away from Ryan’s soothing hand. 

“Mr. Brown has asserted that he pushed too hard, that he didn’t judge your reactions appropriately. I found you in significant distress in the corridor. Please explain.” Ryan looked over at Jonah’s stiff posture and clenched hands. “I think it would be far easier for you if you would let me touch you again. You are in a good deal of distress.”

“I am not in distress,” Jonah spat.

“Really?” Ryan said with raised eyebrows. “If you are unable to discuss the incident, I will enforce a timeout. We have rooms available upstairs.”

“What?” Jonah asked.

“Part of our club’s policy is we don’t allow a man in distress to return to his partner or toss him out on the street. We keep several rooms. I am happy to extend our hospitality. Perhaps in the morning everything will be clearer.”

“I do not need a room for the night. I am not in danger,” Jonah shouted in frustration. “I want to be left alone.”

“That’s not an option, I’m afraid,” Ryan said with a gentle smile.

Jonah made an inarticulate grunting sound and dropped his head between his knees. “Can’t you leave me alone?” 

“That’s not how we do it.”

“Is everybody like this?” Jonah’s voice had taken on a pleading quality, more emotionally sincere than Milton had heard all evening.

“With us, yes,” Milton said softly. “To contemplate a relationship that involves a power exchange, a use of force, both parties must be able to openly discuss all elements. It’s not easy. It’s sometimes very hard, but for me, it’s worth it. Without an open discussion, an open and honest display of emotions, it’s not safe. You will harm your partner, and despite everything, I think you love Samuel, and Samuel loves you. You’ve hidden everything. I understand your reasons, and in Texas it was the only option, but here you must embrace your identity. You must love yourself. Without that acknowledgment, you will hurt yourself, and you will hurt Samuel.”

“I am supposed to ask you to remain silent until Mr. Spencer has stated his grievances, but you hardly seem a threat,” Ryan said with another easy smile. “I take it we have a lack of communication which resulted in panic. You are aware Mr. Brown that the burden of communication mostly falls on you as the experienced and senior dominant?”

“Yes, sir.” Milton smiled at Ryan’s raised eyebrow. “Gordon’s boys are polite.”

“I see. I’ve been told he can be fierce.”

“In his own way.”

“Mr. Spencer, do you have an opinion?” Ryan asked

“No,” Jonah said tersely.

“And here I thought you were going to talk to me,” Ryan said with a grin. “You’ll ruin my reputation. I’m the comforter, the nice guy who everybody tells their story. He looks scary,” Ryan said, jerking his thumb toward Milton.

“I always get to be the bad guy,” Milton said with a laugh.

“Well, you do look the part,” Ryan said with an exaggerated look at Milton. “You’re a big guy.”

“It’s not like you’re tiny.”

“No, better for catching naughty tops.”

“I’m sure,” Milton said dryly. “You caught me.”

“Was he being naughty?” Ryan asked Jonah. 

“No.”

“So you were running down the hall because you didn’t like the bread or there was too much ice in your water?”

“No,” Jonah said, not making eye contact.

“Communicative, aren’t you?” Ryan said with a laugh. “Is this why you were running? Mr. Brown was pressuring you to talk?”

Jonah silently stared at his hands.

Ryan reached over and squeezed Jonah’s knee. “You’re not in any trouble here. We don’t allow any punishment if the staff has to intervene. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“No.” Jonah jerked his head up. “I’m not afraid.”

“Maybe not of me,” Milton said. “But you are afraid. You’ve spent  your whole life afraid. I can’t change yours and Samuel’s past, but we want to give you a better future. You need to trust us.”

“I’m not you. I don’t make out in trains. I don’t grope my partner in public. I’m a private person. I can’t be any other way.” Jonah blinked and wiped his hand over his face. “I can’t be what you want. Maybe I’m not this top creature. Maybe I should let you take Samuel. Maybe I’m not capable of giving him what he needs. I’m an incompetent coward who can do nothing but run and hide.” Jonah buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from the silent sobs.

Ryan was quick and purposeful. He wrapped his arm around Jonah and tugged hard, spilling Jonah against him. He looked up at Milton and mouthed, “What did I miss?”

“Texas. Goddamn Texas and their righteous bullshit!” Milton said angrily. “It’s trying to get its claws on one more victim.” Milton with a slight inclination of his head asked permission to move next to Jonah. Ryan nodded, his focus on Jonah who had lost the battle with tears that were cascading down Ryan’s green blazer. Milton sat, his knee touching Jonah, trying to give silent support. 

“I’m sorry,” Jonah choked a few minutes later.

“What on earth for?” Ryan asked with an easiness that Milton was beginning to strongly admire. Ryan might be young; he didn’t look thirty yet, but he was a good dominant, an excellent dominant: unbiased and supportive. “The only people who should be sorry are those bastards in Texas. You have every right to be angry, tearful, frustrated, afraid, disoriented--every emotion you can name. You’ve been screwed all your life. You’re gay and you’re kinked. Being gay is easy here; liking something a little different isn’t always simple in this country. I can’t imagine what it was like in Texas.”

“I should be strong enough--”

“Bullshit!” Ryan said sharply. “I’m a tough guy, and I’d flee for the border, waving my passport like a shield. I couldn’t survive for five minutes, let alone thirty years.”

“I got away. I should be happy.”

“Bullshit,” Ryan repeated. “You were poisoned. The toxins don’t just evaporate from your body.”

“Samuel’s coping. He likes you,” Jonah said, looking at Milton. “He trusts you; I can’t trust anyone. I’m broken.”

Milton stroked Jonah’s cheek with a feather light touch, pleased that the Texan didn’t pull away. “You protected Samuel from the worst of it, didn’t you? You went out into the world and shouldered the burden of the hatred to keep your boy safe. You had no shield, no guardian, no safe zone. You were too busy making it for him. Let us be your safe zone. That’s what Gordon wants; that’s what I want. We aren’t trying to make this hard. We want you and Samuel to succeed.”

“What if I can’t? I hurt Samuel. I abused him. You said so yourself?” Jonah bit his lower lip, his head down, his short dark bangs cascading over his eyes. He looked more vulnerable, more afraid than Milton had ever seen him. Milton kissed the dark hair. He couldn’t stop himself; this was a man despite his flaws, despite his mishandling of Samuel who was vulnerable and in desperate need of protection. At least at this moment, he was more a lost little boy than a top. Gordon had always advocated that the spectrum of dominant and submissive was more flexible than most believed, arguing that it was more an attraction to the power exchange, and the side of the line for many depended more on the meshing of the partners, that more people were instinctively switches, not hard and fast on the dominant or submissive side. Men like Gordon, Milton, or Sheldon were the exception, not the rule. Milton had never completely agreed with this philosophy. He argued more that all people inclined to a power exchange needed to share their burden, and even the strongest top might need to step out of role or if the situation required it allow someone to take the dominant position. Milton did that with Gordon in a formalized and ritualized acceptance of the submissive role; Tilden leaned on Milton in a more equitable role with no trappings of domination or submission, and occasionally Milton leaned back, and very occasionally Tilden took the lead role and reined in an overly intense Milton without Milton’s express permission.

“Do you love Samuel?” Milton asked, focusing on the distressed man beside him. He combed his fingers through Jonah’s hair, trying to offer comfort in the most direct and tactile way he thought Jonah would accept without a struggle. He’d liked to put Jonah on his lap, wrap his arms around him, and let him cry, but he doubted Jonah would accept such an open show of affection and support. He’d cried against Ryan, but that was in a moment of shattered weakness. He would fight it now.

“Yes, of course.”

“No, not the pro forma answer, but the deep gut wrenching response. Is he a part of your soul?”

Jonah chewed his lower lip. He wiped his hand across his eyes. Milton saw him straighten his shoulders and a tense mask start to drop over his features.

“Oh no you don’t.” Milton caught Jonah’s chin and forced his eyes toward him. “You don’t get to hide inside that mask of coldness. That’s not who you really are. I think you are a very sensitive man who wants to be loved for his sensitivity, not his toughness. You were trained that men don’t cry, that they’re not emotional, that they tough it out. Those are useless skills, hurtful skills. I don’t care what jackass beat that into your head; it’s wrong.”

“My father,” Jonah whispered.

“He also told you it was wrong to be gay. I wouldn’t consider him a reliable source of advice. He beat you; he beat your mother. Sheldon would describe the guy as a world class loser, and I think that’s very apt. What has Gordon told you?”

“It’s OK to be emotional,” Jonah said, wiping his eyes. “It’s OK to be gay.”

“It’s more than OK,” Milton said sharply. “Being gay is not some poor second choice. It’s integral to who you are; it’s integral to who I am. I’m gay. Everyone in this club is gay or bisexual. Everyone in this club participates in a power exchange in some fashion: some only for fun, some in the 24/7 arrangement like I have with Sheldon or Gordon has with Landon, some in arrangements I find truly bizarre involving ropes, chains, and other things I don’t want to imagine. Some people exercise their dominance purely in a mental way; for others physical means and pain are an integral part of their relationship. The watchword is consent, mutual fulfillment, and growing the relationship together.”

“I repressed Samuel, didn’t I?”

“At times,” Milton said, stroking his fingers through Jonah’s hair so he’d feel the tangible support as Milton said some difficult words. “You've punished Samuel unfairly. You’ve been a hair’s-breadth from hitting Landon or Gordon several times. Bullying is not tolerated. I will not leave Samuel unprotected until I am assured that behavior will stop. I was despondent that I would have to break you up, but I have hope now. No, don’t drop your eyes. I have hope. I heard and saw Samuel when I went after you. I saw you respond to Ryan. I’ve listened and watched you with me. You know nothing of being a top; you know nothing of being a gay man. Whether you’re a top when danger is not imminent is still undetermined. Without a doubt, you’re a gay man. We’ll start with that part; we can work out the power exchange. That will be easy. Samuel will teach you if he needs it, and Sheldon and I can teach him to be a boy if that’s what he wants. He’ll never be a Sheldon; that’s not his personality, but he might be a gentle submissive who wants steady support and understandable boundaries. He’s not wild, even though I’d like to see him get comfortable enough to play in and with the role. A boy needs to understand the tease, the dance with his partner. It’s not all about discipline, tragedy, and hard decisions. It’s supposed to be fun for both partners, even without the more ritual trappings and obvious scenes you’ll see in a place like this.”

“Fun?” Jonah asked, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment. “Punishment is not fun.”

“Punishment is not fun,” Milton said slowly and softly, “but it’s neither awful nor the worst thing in the world. Done right it’s about security, commitment, and understanding, but punishment should only be the tiniest portion of the relationship. Some, like Sheldon, need the tactile feel of my hand against their skin. I like it too,” Milton said with a slight smile. “In our relationship, Sheldon spends a lot of time over my knee or crying in my arms, but it’s not necessarily punishment. Often he’s not being scolded. I’m not trying to change his behavior. We’re trying to provide each other a safety valve, a secure zone where anything goes within reason. Tonight I’m going to try to show him another way to get the attention he craves without using the ritual of pseudo discipline. He’s always been afraid of this side, and I haven’t pushed. Probably I should have pushed a little harder. It’s my role to lead and to sometimes give that extra shove.”

“You are a very strong dominant,” Ryan said. “I think your hesitancy was justified; you could easily coerce a partner.”

“You haven’t met Sheldon,” Milton said with a bark of laughter. “We’re well matched. And yes I know what you’re doing.” Milton raised his eyebrows and gave Ryan a half smile. Ryan was very good. He was feeling around the relationship, staying mostly quiet, but interjecting to offer complements and gentle commentary when necessary.

“You are more educated and self-aware of these relationships than most,” Ryan said. “I think we’ve kept the rest of your table waiting long enough.” Ryan stood and held out his hand to Jonah who took it without a murmur. “Why don’t you wash your face.”  “There are combs and things in the drawer. I have to change jackets. I’m a little rumpled, and the management will be on my case.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonah mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Ryan said and gave Jonah a jovial pat on the back. “It’s not piss, vomit, or blood. I’ve had a good night so far.”

Tidied up, Ryan led them back through the corridors, keeping up a lively chatter as they walked. “The farther back you are in the building the more intense the play. We cater to all types here from people merely escaping their thin walled apartments to give a spanking to those who like the extremes. Some of our participants are in full time relationships, others only meet here. I need to check on someone. Come on in. They’ll be OK with it.”

Ryan knocked once sharply and pushed the door open before anyone would have time to respond. Milton recognized the detritus of heavy anal play: a sling, plastic on the floor, and lube on nearly every surface. A couple was under a dark green blanket on the oversized sofa, a look of happy exhaustion on one guy’s face as he snuggled against the chest of a strikingly handsome thirtyish man who gave Ryan a slight smile before focusing again on the man in his arms. A third man in a green jacket was perched on a stool, making notes on a computer pad.

“I take it all went well,” Ryan said addressing the man on the stool.

“Smooth as silk. Dwayne is a seriously happy bottom. Lucky boy!”

“You get plenty of action,” Ryan teased. “Jealous?”

“Not if you’ll do me at the next training session.”

“Don’t remind me. I have to bottom. My renewals are coming up.”

“Who are you going to use?”

“Carter. He has small hands.’

“Wimp.”

“No, risk aware.” Ryan laughed. “I’m glad it went well.” Ryan said to the two on the sofa. “I’ll leave you in Jack’s capable hands if you need anything.”

“It was great,” Dwayne--or at least Milton assumed it was Dwayne--said with a blissful smile.

“Shh. Just rest. I’ve got you. You were so beautiful.” Milton could hear the litany of praise continue as Ryan escorted them out and shut the door with a gentle click.

“They’re happy tonight. That’s what I like to see.”

“What were they doing?”

“Fisting,” Ryan said. Milton saw Jonah’s eyes widen. “Never seen it?”

Jonah shook his head.

“It can be very good with the right partners. It was Dwayne’s first time, and Ian, his partner, is not that experienced. That’s why Jack and I were keeping an eye on them, making sure they didn’t need any help and they were both well supported. It’s not something everybody does,” Ryan added with a laugh. “You don’t have to look horrified.”

“They’re not perverts,” Milton said. “It might not be your taste, but as long as it’s done safely it can be very good. You’re not in Texas now.”

Jonah didn’t respond, but Milton could imagine the thoughts spinning in his head. Jonah most definitely knew he wasn’t in Texas, but he was probably imaging he’d just fallen into a freak show or some form of the dreaded hell.

“Here we are,” Ryan said cheerfully as they entered the dining room. “Enjoy your meal. I’m sorry for the delay. If you are in any further need of my services, please ask your waiter. Again have a good evening.” 

“Ah, Jonah, Milton, you’re back.” Gordon said, rising from the table. “Do you remember James Archer?”

“Vaguely,” Milton said truthfully. Mr. Archer’s hair had been a lot darker then, and he’d been a few pounds lighter.

“He always was an honest boy,” Archer said. “I understand you were caught in Ryan’s clutches.”

“Ryan is very good. I wouldn’t describe it as clutches,” Milton said diplomatically.

“He is good. We’ve very lucky to have him. Someday he’ll find the right boy, and we’ll lose him, but for now we’re taking full advantage of his services. And no, Gordon, you can’t steal him for the Green Mountain Boys. I know you too well.”

“James, you know we’re always looking for good dominants.”

“You need to poach from others, my friend. It was good seeing you again,” Archer said, rising from his chair and shaking Milton’s hand. “Boy, you have grown up. I know why Landon and Gordon are so proud.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

Archer nodded and slipped from the table with the quiet precision of The Forest’s reputation.

Dinner came almost immediately. Ryan must have informed the kitchen as their conversation was wrapping up. Milton picked up Sheldon’s silverware, placing it out of reach, and moved Sheldon’s plate to the space between them.

“I’m capable of feeding myself,” Sheldon said hotly.

“Tonight, you do as I say.”  Milton cut a small piece of meat, speared it with his fork, and held it to Sheldon’s lips. Sheldon glared at it, his lips pressed together. “Do you really want to go down that path?”

“Fine,” Sheldon ungraciously muttered and opened his mouth for the meat.

“Boy, you have an attitude. Do you need help with it?”

“I learned to use a fork years ago.”

Milton slid his chair back, flipped Sheldon over his knee, and landed ten quick spanks before thrusting him back into the chair. It was by no means a hard spanking; he hadn’t even pulled down Sheldon’s trousers, but hopefully it would put Sheldon in the right mindset. Milton needed his boy submissive if he was going to play with him successfully. He wasn’t planning anything hard for Sheldon, just an erotic spanking, but with Sheldon’s back up, it wasn’t going to be fun for anyone. 

“Are you ready to be a good boy now?”

Sheldon nodded, but didn’t look any happier. Milton kissed his boy’s forehead before breaking a piece of onion ring into a bite size piece and feeding it to Sheldon.

“Be a good boy, and I’ll eat the oven roasted potatoes and the asparagus, and you can have the onion rings,” Milton teased. “I know what you like. Trust me; I’ll make it good for you.”

Sheldon smiled, his shoulder’s relaxing as Milton stroked his cheek between bits of food. His eyes started to follow Milton’s hand to the plate and back, his expression soft as he opened his mouth to take the last onion ring.

“I didn’t get a one. Who’s the spoiled boy?”

“I am,” Sheldon said with a wide grin. 

“My spoiled boy. I’ll have to see if I can fix that tonight.”  Milton tipped his head slightly which brought a waiter who had been discretely to one side, out of earshot and vision range of most of the table. “I need a towel, lubricant, and a glass of ice please.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Sheldon asked, the earlier languid relaxation gone from his posture. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Sheldon, you must consent to this. This is not punishment. I won’t force you.” Milton’s voice was steady “My hand only, Sheldon. You’ve been over my lap thousands of times.”

“This is different.” The indecision and the slight fear were clear on Sheldon’s face. He wasn’t frantic, his eyes weren’t darting around the table; he wasn’t crushing the napkin up in a ball. “I need help,” Sheldon said in almost a whisper.

For Sheldon that was an enormous and much sought after revelation. Milton schooled his face to stern; he wanted to smile, grab his boy, and hug him. Milton had tried for years to get Sheldon to voice when he needed more guidance or merely wanted a quick spanking rather than embarking on insane schemes.

“Drop your trousers,” Milton demanded, pulling Sheldon up from the chair.

Sheldon squirmed, but didn’t reply.

“What are you wearing underneath?”

“Blade’s boxers.”

“And what do they have on them?”

 “Nude ladies in pink high heels.” Sheldon blushed a flaming red, admitting to the ridiculous underwear was more embarrassing than the idea of a public spanking.

“How appropriate,” Milton said with a raised eyebrow. “Pants off and let everyone get a good look at your fine boxers. Next time you’ll listen when I say blue or white.”

Sheldon turned even brighter red, but he did pull off his khakis and carefully arrange them on his chair. He looked dangerously close to tears as he glanced up at Milton.

Milton wrapped his arm around Sheldon’s shoulders and pulled him close. He lowered his voice for Sheldon’s ears only. “You’re beautiful even with those crazy boxers. Hang with me; it gets better from here.”

Sheldon nodded, pressing closer to Milton.

Milton kept his arm around Sheldon as he arranged the chair, pulling it back toward a small built in shelf where Milton squirted out a large, viscous puddle of lube and set the glass of ice. Milton took Sheldon’s hand, sat, spread a towel over his lap, and pulled his boy over his knee in a quick motion. Better at this stage not to let Sheldon panic about it. He wrapped his left arm over Sheldon’s hip in a heavy blanket of security.

“Any little boy who wears boxers like that is just asking for a spanking.” Milton slipped them off and stroked down Sheldon’s tense buttock. Sheldon was unsure, almost afraid. This was without the usual pretense of discipline, and they had an audience. Sheldon wasn’t shy about the corporal punishment in their relationship, but Milton was well aware that a few swats for a minor tantrum in public was far different than a scene. 

Milton stroked down Sheldon’s thighs, easing them apart. He started with soft, lazy swats, watching for the tension to leave Sheldon’s body. Sheldon liked spankings. He might tell another story, but Milton had lived with him too long to be deceived. “That’s right. It’s just us,” Milton said in a voice too soft for the others to hear. “You’re my good boy. I’ll make it good for you.”

Sheldon moaned, not quite pain but also not quite arousal, as Milton’s hand swatted a more sensitive spot, each slap now coming down harder and faster. Milton paused, stroked down Sheldon’s back, circled around his opening and dropped his fingers between Sheldon’s legs to lightly tease his captive’s cock and balls.

“There you go. That’s right. Get hard for me.” Milton returned to the pink cheeks, landing a flurry of swats. He reached across to the shelf, palmed an ice cube and ran it down Sheldon’s backside.

“Agh!” Sheldon squirmed across Milton’s lap. “Cold,” Sheldon moaned.

“I’ll warm you up again.” Milton returned his attention to the round mounds in front of him, heating them with a brisk series of swats. He continued to spank until Sheldon’s breath was hitching and he was on the edge of tears. Quickly he ran a fresh cube of ice over the sizzling cheeks, smiling to himself at Sheldon’s inarticulate moans and squeaks. He landed a few light swats on the tender inner thigh, stroking the now frantically squirming Sheldon between each swat. With a quick lean, Milton coated his fingers with lube and stroked Sheldon’s firm cock. “Come for me, boy.”

Sheldon tensed and with a grunt came all over the towel. Sheldon hung limp and spent across Milton’s knees. 

“Good, boy.”

“Oh God!” Sheldon said between pants. 

“My good boy. My beautiful boy.” Milton pulled Sheldon upright, wrapping him in a tight hug and kissing him. “I’m so proud of you. You were wonderful.”

“Oh God!” Milton kissed him again, enjoying that he’d driven his usually talkative partner to only gasps and semi-articulate phrases.

“Shh. I have you now. I’m so pleased with you.” Milton held Sheldon tight, letting him return back to the living at his own pace.

“God!” Sheldon said again after a few minutes. “I can’t believe I did that. I really did that.”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

“God, yes! Why haven’t we done that before?”

“You were ready now.”

“You told me it could be good, and I never believed you. I was a fool.”

“No.” Milton kissed Sheldon’s cheek. “You were cautious.”

“I’m never cautious.”

“I know, a first for you, but it was only good because you were ready.”

Sheldon burrowed against Milton. “Can we do it again?”

“I see I’ve created a monster,” Milton said with a big smile and kissed Sheldon firmly, letting his tongue explore the soft welcoming mouth before pulling back. “We’ll do it again, boy, but not tonight. I think we’ve already befuddled our Texan friends.”

“Shit!” Sheldon swore softly. “I forgot they were here. Gordon and Landon are one thing...” He trailed off, his face turning crimson.

“Easy, Sheldon.” Milton tightened his arms around his boy. He didn’t want Sheldon upset at this juncture with few options to manage his behavior. A punishment spanking would be downright cruel, but if Sheldon started to spin, Milton would be left with few other solutions. “Look at me.” Milton waited until Sheldon’s green eyes met his. “This was for me, only for me. No one else matters. This was for me, so I could enjoy the beauty of you squirming over my lap, and you were beautiful. You were a very good boy.” Milton kissed Sheldon, long and slow, waiting for Sheldon to melt back into his chest. “Better?” Milton asked when they came up for air.

Sheldon nodded and snuggled confidently against Milton’s chest. That boy’s moods were like quicksilver, Milton thought as he stroked his fingers through the shiny red hair. So responsive. So beautiful. His boy. His Sheldon.

Sheldon sighed and yawned sleepily.

“All tuckered out,” Milton whispered and stroked Sheldon’s cheek. “Just rest; you deserve it.” Milton looked over to their table. Gordon and Landon were both smiling. Samuel flushed in embarrassment at being caught watching and looked away quickly. Jonah was staring fixedly at the tablecloth, his jaw clenched. “Jonah, we did nothing wrong. We’re both consenting adults, and we both enjoyed it.”

“I’m just not used to it,” Jonah said, not lifting his eyes.

“I’ll sort Jonah out,” Gordon said. “You take care of your boy. He was very good and very beautiful tonight. You should be very proud.”

“I am.” Milton stood, easily managing Sheldon’s slight frame. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Have a good night,” Gordon said with a faint grin. “I know I would.”

Milton smiled. “Behave yourself. You’re shocking our guests.”

“As if you haven’t,” Landon shot back. “Exhibitionist to the core. Go thee behind closed doors away from innocent eyes.”

“Watch yourself,” Milton teased, heading for the door, Sheldon securely over his shoulder like a kidnapped bride. “Gordon will send for a flogger or a whip.”

“Would he now,” Landon said with a broad smile and a wave.

Milton headed for the elevator, his arms tight around his precious cargo. He felt only the slightest twinge of guilt leaving Landon and Gordon with both Texans. After all this had been their idea.