The Golden Goose 4

The Golden Goose 4

Jared couldn’t believe he’d eaten a second chocolate filled croissant and a muffin described as Sheldon’s absolute favorite, raspberry with white and dark chocolate swirls. He almost never ate breakfast, let alone sweets. He’d grab a cup of coffee, or more like three or four, while trying to rouse and organize his parents and sister, prepare their lunch, and get something nutritious down them in the dawn of the day when they were usually at their most confused. Breakfast was a luxury he didn’t have, sweets were even rarer. Jared’s father would eat an entire box of danish in a single sitting if they were available. It didn’t matter if there were three danishes in the box or twenty.

Jared trailed Sheldon down the hall, feeling languid and sleepy. It was probably all the chocolate and sugar playing hell with his blood sugar. Sheldon didn’t bother to knock, but threw open a set of double doors that led into a family room or parlor or whatever these people called it. It was a room filled with oversized furniture, thick carpets, and floor to ceiling bookcases. French doors opened onto a patio thick with blooms in oversized pots and meticulously cared for beds. Landon was seated in a massive armchair that swallowed his average sized frame. Across from him was a tall man with close cropped brown hair. His suit and briefcase by his knee suggested he was the professional in the meeting. A large man with obvious bulging muscles underneath his blue polo shirt and khaki pants was lounging on the sofa. A young man with bright red hair and identical green eyes to Sheldon knelt at his feet. Jared hesitated, staring. The kneeling man must be Sheldon’s brother; the resemblance was striking. But kneeling? This place was crazy. 

“Jared,” The large man said, rising from the sofa and grasping Jared’s hand in a knuckle crushing grip. “I’m Ryan, and this is my partner Blade.” His smile was honest, blinding, and somehow made the idea of his partner kneeling less horrifying. It was hard to hate someone who seemed so genuinely friendly. “And that’s Blade’s idea, I’m not an ogre,” he said with a wink.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sheldon said in a tone that was a confusing mixture of tease and anger. 

“Sheldon,” Ryan said with easy warmth in his voice. “I know this is hard for you. Please come talk to us.” Ryan caught Sheldon’s hand and pulled him forward. He kissed Sheldon’s forehead. 

Sheldon stiffened and then leaned against Ryan, his body almost lost in Ryan’s vast bulk. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“I get it.” Ryan tousled Sheldon’s hair. “You’re Blade’s brother. Your happiness is very important to both of us. And remember Milton would kill me in the most horrible and painful way if I ever harmed a hair on your little brother’s head. Come talk to us.” Ryan kissed Sheldon again.

Jared hovered against the wall and watched the exchange with both fascination and more that a little horror. These men were so open with each other and unabashed with their sexuality and weird power play. 

“Ryan, I think we should proceed with the meeting,” the man in the suit said and shuffled the papers in his lap. “I believe you should deal with these other matters in private.”

“As you wish,” Ryan said with what looked like a cocky grin despite his polite words. “You can’t hide from yourself forever.”

“I’ve had this conversation more than a few times with Landon,” the man in the suit said frostily. “I represent the Foundation; you people can deal with your follies on your own time.”

“Atticus,” Landon said, letting the syllables roll of his tongue. “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself to Jared before you start berating him for his lifestyle?”

“That wasn’t directed at Jared, but those redheaded maniacs and their enablers. Poor Jared has probably found himself in this mess the same way I did through deceit and trickery,” Atticus said, his hazel eyes trained on Landon.

Jared snapped his head back and forth between the speakers, feeling as if he was watching a vicious and high stakes tennis game.

“Enough,” Ryan said in a tone that caused every pair of eyes to focus on his face. “Atticus, whether you choose to accept your role as a top is entirely your business, but I am sure the Foundation expects you to abide by the laws of civility. I was asked to participate in this meeting because it was felt that with my professional training I might be able to provide insight in preparing materials to help teenage and young adult refugees better cope in their new environment. I was not aware that I was going to be drafted into the role of referee. I do that far too often at my night job, and none of you would be happy with my methods. Atticus, introduce yourself to Jared, and let’s get started. Sheldon, Milton most likely needs your assistance. Even he needs the expertise of an experienced partner and boy when dealing with ten novices who are all entirely confused over why they ever thought this was a good idea.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheldon said and disappeared from the room with surprising speed.

“Atticus,” Ryan said in a tone that sounded contradictorily both pleasant and ominous at the same time.

“My apologies,” Atticus said stiffly. “I was out of line. I’m Atticus Benson.” He shook Jared’s hand. “I head the Foundation’s work on the Texas project.” He gave Jared a faint smile that didn’t reach his hazel eyes that were half hidden under dark, bushy brows. “I have been looking forward to meeting you, and I’m not as hateful as I just sounded.”

“No, he’s not,” Landon chimed in. “He actually can be quite nice and charming. You two should go for a nice walk around the grounds. The gardens are lovely this time of year.”

“Landon, I thought Gordon dealt with you last night. I see it made a big impression,” Ryan said with a sternness that was ruined by the smile playing on his lips.

“I’m a hopeless romantic; I can’t help myself.”

“You’re a hopeless and spoiled brat,” Ryan shot back, his tone rich with amusement.

“I’m mortally wounded by your words.” Sheldon grasped at his chest and slumped to the ground, his tongue lolling from his mouth.”

“Nine out of ten,” Blade crowed.

“Only nine out of ten,” Landon said, lifting his head before remembering he was supposed to be dead and slumping back to the floor.

“Up.” Ryan pulled Landon from the floor, turned him around, and landed a tattoo of hard swats on his rear. “Behave, boy.”

“Ryan, you play rough.” Landon unabashedly rubbed his butt. “I was still sore from last night.”

“Then don’t ask for more. Atticus shouldn’t have to be subjected to this unless he wants to be. You’re not one of those kids out there who doesn’t know which way is up.”

“Dragon,” Landon muttered, “and I thought Gordon was tough. Is he always this demanding with you, kid?” Landon asked Blade.

Blade looked up, his red hair falling away from his face, exposing his vivid, emerald eyes. “He’s mine.”

Landon gave a bark of laughter. “Good job, kid. I have to use that line next time someone complains about Gordon. I’m sorry, Blade; I behaved inappropriately. I’m sorry, sir,” Landon said to Ryan, bowed his head, and clasped both hands behind his back.

 Ryan lifted Landon’s chin in his large hand and stroked the gray hair off the forehead before planting a kiss. “You’re forgiven. Do you need this right now?”

Landon nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Do you need Gordon?”

Landon shook his head.

“Do you want Gordon?”

Landon look up, his blue eyes startled. “Maybe.”

Ryan stroked his fingers through Landon’s hair, his voice very soft. “We all know you’re a switch; we all know you’re very capable. It’s still OK to want your other half sometimes. Blade,” he said, touching Blade’s shoulder, “go get Gordon.”

Blade took off at a run, not looking back.

“You have him well trained,” Landon said.

“Not by half. He’s trying, and he’s being good, but it’s still an act for him. The real part won’t come until later, and if I know my boy there will be plenty of tears, shouting, and angst.”

“You’re good for him, sir.”

“Thank you, Landon. You still with us, Jared?” Ryan asked, swinging around to face Jared who was trying to fade into the bookcases. “Do you think you’re crazy to be wearing a green shirt?”

Jared managed a faint smile and a shrug. He didn’t know what to say. At the moment all he wanted to was to be left alone, to hide, to be allowed to process this strange behavior he’d just seen. These men loved each other; that was clear, but how the relationships worked and intermeshed together made no sense. Landon was a competent and respected businessman, and with Ryan he’d turned into... Jared wasn’t sure what to call it. This wasn’t how he understood these relationships, but what did he know? Submissives didn’t run businesses; they didn’t intimidate Jared into lunatic trips to the hinterlands of Vermont. But Landon looked submissive now with his eyes down and hands clasped behind his back, or at least this was how Jared imagined submissive behavior.

“I think that’s a yes,” Ryan said with a soft smile. “I understand that. First day and you get broadsided by Sheldon and now Landon. You probably think you stepped into an alternate universe.”

“Milton too,” Jared said in a whisper.

“You had a run in with Milton?”

Jared could feel his face flush and suddenly, unexpectedly, and completely out of his control a tear trickled down his cheek, unwelcome and unstoppable.

“Oh, Jared.” Ryan caught Jared in his huge arms and pulled him close. “He spanked you, didn’t he?”

Jared nodded, not able to stop the terrible color that was rising in his cheeks and showing his embarrassment and mortification to all, and worse he was starting to cry in earnest. He choked back a broken sob and felt the hot burn of a flood of fresh tears on his cheeks.

It must have been several minutes before Jared found the control to untangle himself from Ryan because Gordon and Blade had come into the room, and they along with Landon and Atticus had moved to the far end of the room. Landon was kneeling at Gordon’s feet, pressed against his husband’s leg while Gordon stroked through his hair. Blade slouched nearby, running a disinterested finger over the books in the tall shelves. Atticus was ostensibly studying a pile of papers, but Jared couldn’t imagine how the man could concentrate with all this drama, with all his drama Jared corrected himself. He was the one who’d been sobbing into a total stranger’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jared murmured, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“For being exhausted? For being a little emotional? For crying a bit?” Ryan traced his finger around Jared’s eyes. “If my boy had dark circles like these, I wouldn’t let him out of bed for a week.”

Wouldn’t let his boy out of bed for a week. Jared should be appalled by those words, but perversely they felt inviting. He was exhausted; he couldn’t think straight. That must be the problem.

“Landon, Atticus, may we adjourn this meeting until later?”

“Of course.” It was Gordon who had answered with his rich tone and slight accent that Jared couldn’t place. Landon was quiet, kneeling at his husband’s feet and looking totally comfortable with his abject submission. His eyes were closed, and he leaned against Gordon’s knee.

“No, I’m here to do work.” Jared heard himself protest. He wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and pull the sheet over his head and vanish. Maybe he’d wake up at home where all the rules were normal, not in this crazy house of mirrors.

“Bed. Now. Are you walking, or am I carrying you?” Ryan asked.

“No--” Jared started to protest.

“Carrying it is.” Ryan swung Jared into his arms. “It’s a good thing you’re so skinny that you’re nothing but bones and skin.”

“No.” Jared struggled in Ryan’s arms.

“Stop it.” 

The swat was swift and probably not hard in the continuum of spanks that went on here or at least compared to what Jared had seen Ryan do to Landon earlier and the sharp sting when Milton had spanked Jared on the bare, but it still hurt. Jared froze, his body rigid in Ryan’s arms. Milton had carried him yesterday, but he’d been confused and half-asleep. No one had seen anything. This was in front of other people. Jared hadn’t been carried since he was six or seven and hurt his knee, trying to ride his bike without training wheels. His father had scooped him off the pavement and cradled Jared close to his chest.

His parents. They were at home while he played around like a demented idiot. What was he thinking? Jared kicked Ryan, his shoe connecting with Ryan’s knee. The three swats were harder than before and made Jared gasp.

“What was that about, boy? You really don’t want to make me drop you. I asked you a question,” Ryan said when Jared failed to answer, “and, kid, let me tell you a little secret. It’s not a great idea to piss off a top who has a firm hold of you. Kicking someone usually falls in the category of pissing them off.”

“Sorry.”

“Why?”

Why? Why did he kick Ryan? Why didn’t he want to be put to bed? Why in the fuck was he here?

“I think you’re too tired for coherent thought,” Ryan said with absolute surety. “Put your arms around my neck, so I don’t drop you going up the stairs. Arms around me,” Ryan prodded again.

Jared didn’t know why, but he wrapped his arms around Ryan’s neck and let his head fall onto Ryan’s shoulder. Disobeying Ryan didn’t seem to be an option, and well, Jared didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to even voice it in his own mind, but as he hung limply against Ryan there was a great ease and relief in letting him take charge. After Jared got some rest, he’d straighten everything out. He was just too tired now.

******

“Asleep?” Gordon asked as Ryan came back in the room.

“Yep. Exhausted.” 

 Blade had moved to Ryan’s side and dropped to his knees as Ryan sat with a heavy sigh. “He seems nice.”

“Hmm,” Ryan said, his hand stroking through Blade’s hair. “I agree, but you hardly know him.”

“He was shocked, but he didn’t say anything stupid about me being at your feet. It was like he was taking it all in, not immediately assuming I’m defective or something.”

“Who assumes you’re defective?” Ryan asked and picked Blade up. Their size differential made dancing hell, but it was sure great to be able to easily pick up his lover. Blade straddled Ryan’s lap and cuddled against his chest.

“No one,” Blade said in a tone that Ryan recognized as a terrible attempt to hide a half-truth.

“Blade, we’ve talked about honesty in this relationship.”

“Yes, Ryan.”

“Do you want to try again, or do you need me to punish you?” It was only in the last several weeks that Ryan had started to ask Blade this sort of question. Blade liked absolutes, and even now Ryan wasn’t sure if the best response wouldn’t have been to turn Blade over his knee and warm that inviting ass. The boy could lie easily when he wanted to. Ryan usually caught it, and Milton had radar for that sort of thing, but this little half truth about no one had been obvious, not so much a lie but more a clumsily issued plea to discuss a problem.

“No, Ryan.” Blade looked up at Ryan through his long and extravagant lashes. A fawn or a puppy would have been hard pressed to look more innocent.

“No, you don’t want to try again, or no, you don’t want me to punish you.”

“My brother doesn’t like it.”

“Blade.” Ryan kissed Blade’s forehead. “You’re brother’s afraid I’m going to harm you. He doesn’t think you’re defective; he thinks I’m going to morph into a combination of Vlad the Impaler and Satan, and he wants to be ready to call Milton so he can tear me limb from limb and then burn me at stake.”

“But you’re nice to Sheldon.” Blade sounded confused and more than a little whiny, and when Blade started to whine bad things usually followed, or good, Ryan thought with a hidden smile, if he wanted pretty red cheeks on both ends. Not now, Ryan scolded himself. Blade sounded off; he was upset, and no wonder, Ryan had carried a very pretty young man to bed. Blade may have seen Milton with other boys, even been the other boy, but Ryan was Blade’s, and that was different.

“Sheldon is your brother. He is confused and concerned. I don’t punish boys for being confused,” Ryan said in his most patient tone. “And you’re confused right now too, aren’t you?”

Blade nodded and burrowed closer.

Ryan walked his fingers down Blade’s neck until he touched the thin collar that lay hidden from sight beneath Blade’s shirt. “All you have to remember is you’re mine; you’re the one with my collar, not these lost and confused little boys wandering around after Milton, not the submissives who cry on my shoulder at the club, not Jared who needs to find a fairy godfather who will cast a spell that will let him sleep for a week.” Ryan twisted the thin collar in his fist, so the chain tightened against Blade’s neck. “Mine, boy. Your job is to please me, boy. No one else matters.”

“Yes, Ryan.”

Ryan kissed Blade hard, not caring that he wasn’t in private. His words, while spoken softly, were as intimate as any kiss. Atticus would just have to deal; it wasn’t like Ryan was insisting that Atticus had to participate, and that man knew exactly what went on at the Green Mountain Boys’ home, or he would never have been invited. G&L Enterprises and its Foundation had plenty of employees that wouldn’t have been allowed within one hundred kilometers of here. Atticus was a top, and he instinctively understood; his denials were a halfhearted resistance of who he was. If he wasn’t attracted to a power exchange at some level, he would have long ago fled. Ryan knew they had vanilla staff at the lodge, and they avoided Gordon and company like the plague. One run in with Sheldon and they either quit in a flurry of shouts or hid in the shelter of billowing steam and clanking pans in the kitchen.

Ryan clicked his fingers, and the warm bundle of Blade scrambled off his lap and knelt at his feet, the red hair brushing against his thigh in an almost impossible to resist Siren song of sex and lust. “Brat.” Ryan entwined his fingers in Blade’s hair and tugged just hard enough to lift Blade’s head. “Wait till I get you alone.” The smile was blinding and all the things that made Blade irresistible. “Brat,” Ryan repeated, “behave.”

“Yes, Ryan.” Blade’s voice was soft, deferential and somehow so charged with sex that Ryan had to draw a deep breath and count to ten to resist drawing his boy into his arms and disappearing into a bedroom for private time.

“Jesus!” The expletive was probably supposed to remain under his breath, but instead everyone’s eyes fell on Atticus who flushed and shuffled his papers.

Gordon cleared his throat; a sound that Ryan knew was between a warning and an outright reprimand. Gordon was death on bad manners, and swearing fell solidly in that category.

“I work for the Foundation; I didn’t hire on to be a bathhouse attendant.”

“Atticus.” Gordon’s voice was dangerously soft. “When you are here, I expect you to adhere to both the Foundation’s and the Green Mountain Boys’ guidelines on tolerance.”

“I am subjected to openly lewd displays, and I am the one who is reprimanded,” Atticus said in a steady voice, but not hiding his edge of hostility. “I work for you, and I accept your right to set the rules for my employment, but I do not like it.”

“Your protest is duly noted,” Gordon said in a frigid tone that even made Ryan draw in a sharp breath. “You have done very fine work for our foundation, but if you find the working conditions intolerable perhaps you should give notice.”

Atticus studied his hands and shuffled the papers on the table before slowly drawing his eyes up first to look at Gordon and Landon and then at Ryan and Blade. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and drew a long breath. “I don’t know.”

“Atticus.” Landon had scrambled to his feet and taken the chair on Atticus’s far side. 

Ryan blinked; Landon’s ability to drop his submissiveness the way others changed clothes still startled him. He saw plenty of people at The Forest who played in both roles, and even Blade, a boy who craved the comfort and control, didn’t always play the submissive role, but it was rare to watch a man who could so completely reverse and effortlessly move across the spectrum of role play and real life.

“You have done superior work for our foundation, and despite the craziness you see around you, I believe you trust us, and I believe you understand we have your best interest at heart both professionally and personally,” Landon said in a calm, steady voice.

“It’s the personal side that worries me,” Atticus said with a thin smile and a quick cast of his eyes over toward Ryan and Blade.

“Does Blade look unhappy?” Landon asked.

Atticus let his eyes rest on Blade, shadowed and concerned. “How do you tell?”

“You can ask me if you can talk to him,” Ryan said. “Blade, up. Go talk to Atticus.” Ryan squeezed the back of Blade’s neck and shook him lightly. Blade was hovering on the edge of subspace, not the best condition for an interview by a hostile witness, but Blade was adaptable and strong willed. He’d be OK. “Do you want me to leave, so you can blast me in private?”

“No, Ryan.” The plea was obvious in Blade’s eyes and voice.

Ryan kissed Blade’s forehead: solidly, possessively, and chastely. “Go give ‘em hell for me.”

“I will.” Blade’s eyes lit up with a flash of his usually flare. “I love you.”

“Me too.” Ryan wanted to follow Blade over to the table but he forced himself to sit on the sofa and cross his legs in a falsely relaxed pose. Landon and Gordon were there. Blade would be safe, and Atticus needed the space to feel comfortable. Landon liked and respected Atticus; he must not be the horror that he was displaying today. 

“Hi,” Atticus said softly and blushed. 

Ryan saw Blade grin, that open and beautiful grin that always had everyone eating out of his hand. Blade straddled the chair and propped himself on his elbow. “What do you want to know?”

“Sorry,” Atticus said and flushed again.

“You’re a top. Stop with all the blushing,” Blade said in a teasing voice. “You’re going to give me a complex, intimidating a top.” Blade flashed Atticus another smile, and Ryan relaxed. Blade was good at this and in his element. He’d lived with Milton after all; he’d watched an expert handle inexperienced dominants and submissives. “Ryan and I are on the extreme or at least compared to all these old fuddy-duddies. We know that.” Blade smiled again and winked at Landon. “I like it; I need it, and I’m very safe with Ryan. I’m a submissive, and I like to show it off, and I like to show my dominant off.”

“You’re in public,” Atticus said in a shocked tone.

Blade shrugged. “Not really. This is a protected space. If I pulled this shit at the burger joint in town, Ryan would beat the tar out of me and rightly so.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan growled. “And watch your language, young man.”

“It might be fun,” Blade said with a laugh.

“I would make sure the consequences were very not fun.”

“Yes, Ryan,” Blade said and dropped his eyes, but his voice was still full of tease.

“You have your hands full,” Landon said with a laugh.

“Don’t I know,” Ryan said with a groan. “He works his top to the bone. I’m surprised I’m not a shadow of my former self.”

“Wimp,” Blade teased back. “See that’s what happens when you eat all those whole grains and dark leafy greens--no stamina. Sugar, white flour, and soda, the diet of champions.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “He looks intimidated, doesn’t he?”

Atticus shook his head, but gave Ryan a look that suggested he was still uncomfortable.

“Atticus,” Gordon said in a soft, professional tone that spoke of authority and dignity. “You have never expressed significant discomfort in the relationship I have with Landon, and I have even seen you at times take the role of a top, albeit reluctantly. Why are Ryan and Blade different?”

Atticus seemed to steady himself and like Gordon his voice was detached and professional. “I come from the Midwest and a strong tradition that many things are best left for the privacy of the home. They are very open.” Atticus clasped his hands in front of him. “I understand that my words have been offensive and for that I offer my apologies. I’m afraid I can’t change my opinion that I find some of this--” Atticus struggled to find the right word, “behavior or posturing disconcerting.”

“Or less correctly offensive,” Landon added.

Atticus nodded and looked almost relieved that Landon had voiced what he wasn’t saying. “I’m sorry. I’m a private person. It’s not that Blade’s a submissive or Ryan’s a dominant.”

“It’s that it’s in your face,” Landon said. “You’ve interacted with our members before, but they’ve been more discreet than Blade and Ryan.”

Atticus nodded.

“You must understand,” Gordon said, “that for our member couples this is their home. They are not in public within our walls and grounds but at home amongst friends. We have rules here to protect our collective sanity, but they are far different than appropriate behavior for a rail station. This isn’t a rail station; this is everybody’s home. To work on the Texas project, you will need to be comfortable within those rules. If that is impossible, I will ask our personnel department to reassign you without change in salary or status. I believe we blindsided you today, and for that you have my apologies, but I believe your behavior today has also made it clear that the Texas project will need to be headed, not only by a highly competent individual who is at least peripherally aware of the Green Mountain, but by an actual member.”

Atticus sat very still, the only motion a slight working of his jaw. Finally he spoke formally and stiffly into the silence, “If I understand you correctly, I must either become a Green Mountain Boy or accept reassignment.”

“That is correct,” Gordon said. “Do you have any further questions?”

Atticus sat silently for a moment, his eyes unwavering on Gordon’s face. “When you spoke of understanding and accepting of certain rules, can you elaborate?”

“Certainly,” Gordon said gravely before a brief smile flickered across his face. “One of our rules is that boys must be clothed. Blade here is I expect, how should I say it, far more in the raw at home.”

Both Blade and Ryan laughed.

“A few strips of leather and my collar. I guess that’s in the raw,” Blade joked.

“And you’re happy with that?” Atticus asked, his voice reflecting true concern.

“Shit, man, yes. And yes I know, watch my language. I’m not coerced into kneeling at Ryan’s feet or running around the house buck naked. It’s more that I coerce Ryan into doing those things for me.”

“I take my pleasure also,” Ryan said with a chuckle. “I’m not up for sainthood.”

Atticus shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand the appeal, but what I am understanding is this is consensual and governed by a set of rules which I neither understand nor were even cognizant of until a few minutes ago.” Atticus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I believe I am the best man for the job on the expanded Texas project. I am already familiar with the Foundation’s work in the region, and this is only an expansion of the projects. It would be disruptive to hire someone new, and there is no appropriate candidate in the pipeline. Both my second and third in command are women, and by definition they cannot be Green Mountain Boys. I guess I’m your boy.” Atticus flushed and for the first time squirmed in his chair, his fingers playing along the edge of his table.”

“I will grant you temporary membership. I believe Tilden would be the best member to handle your formal introduction into our world. Your request for membership will be reevaluated in one month. Good luck.” Gordon stood, signaling the meeting was adjourned and in a gesture familiar to the members of the Green Mountain Boys bent and kissed the top of Atticus’s head. “You will not regret this choice.”