Green
Pastures 2
Sheldon
heard the car before he saw it. He’d been
listening and with the doors and windows thrown open to spring, the sound of
the ancient station
wagon was distinct. Austin had threatened to crash that
embarrassment of a car several times, but none of them would dare hurt Milton’s precious baby. They had plenty of other cars that
didn’t look like they’d just
driven out of a retro TV show, but Milton clung to the fake wood siding and the
fashion statement of the seventies.
The
car came to a halt with its distinct rattling knock which no one could fix, but
also refused to put the car out of its misery. Milton climbed out, not
bothering to reach behind him for his suitcase or briefcase. Sheldon would get
those later; it was a given in this household. Milton caught Austin as he
barreled down the porch steps and threw himself at his dominant.
Sheldon
didn’t have to be close enough to hear the words to know
that Milton was offering reassurance. Sheldon knew the litany and the comfort
of those arms. He’d known from the very start
when Milton had lambasted him for plagiarizing a paper, yet dragged him off for
lunch and trundled him back to his student digs. He’d know again when Milton pulled a full knight in shining armor rescue and saved Sheldon from giving his ass to
those slobbering fools. Milton would cane his precious cub, but Austin was in
the comforting shadow of his dominant. Nothing awful was possible in the circle
of Milton’s arms.
“Was he
lost in the Andes or something?”
Joe,
Sheldon had almost forgotten him.
“Austin
missed him.”
“He’s old enough that I’d be
afraid he could die tomorrow. Austin could have done better.”
“No,” Sheldon said, reining in his temper with a supreme
effort.
“He’s yours too?” Joe
asked, his voice raising in surprise. “This is
more fucked up than I thought.” Joe raked his fingers
through his hair and shook his head.
“Master
belongs to all of us.”
“Master?” A nasty grin split Joe’s
face. “I thought belonging went the other way in those sort
of relationships.”
“It goes
both ways, my ignorant little submissive.”
“Me?” Joe laughed, pointing at himself. “You have to be kidding. I don’t do this shit.”
“Really,” Sheldon said, letting the sarcasm bleed into his
voice. “And who was trying to sell himself for the weekend? Who
came home with Austin like a meek little lamb? Who did I hear say sir to Josh?”
“He’s older. I was raised to be polite.”
Sheldon
snorted. “You’re submissive, but if you
want to deny it that’s your business, just don’t bash us for it. You can spend your life hiding from
yourself. I’m cool with it, but you give Austin one nasty look or
one snide comment, and I will find you.”
“Ah,
scary. I’m shaking in my boots.”
“I don’t need to do scary,” Sheldon
said with vicious calm. “I have several dominants at
my beck and call to do scary. Your ass will be grass, boy.”
“Right.
Whatever.”
Joe turned back toward the porch where
Milton had dropped his hands over Austin’s
shoulders and was guiding him inside.
“You
must be Joe.”
Milton’s voice
filled the hallway and spilled back toward the kitchen. “Welcome to our home. I have some personal business to
attend to for a few minutes. Sheldon, lay out some cold lunch. The airlines
long ago gave up feeding anyone and breakfast was hours ago.”
“Yes,
Master.”
Milton’s eyes fell on Sheldon, and Sheldon knew that Master
had picked up on his little spat with Joe. His eyes said both later and behave.
Sheldon dropped his eyes, acknowledging the silent message, but trying to hide
the exchange from Joe.
“We don’t hide in our home.”
“Master.”
Milton
lifted a hand from Austin’s shoulder and clicked his
fingers. Sheldon gave him one long pleading look and took the three steps
toward Milton. He clasped his hands behind him and presented himself to his
master. He should go to his knees, but they had a stranger in the house.
Milton’s hand caught Sheldon’s
chin and lifted his eyes. “Boy, I’ve known you too long. Don’t do anything rash and don’t make me regret that I’m
not forcing the issue. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes,
Master.”
“Good
boy.” Milton stroked Sheldon’s
cheek and bent and kissed the top of his head. “Sheldon,
I love you. We’ll talk. I missed you.”
“Me too.”
“I know.
Kitchen now and take Joe with you. Come, Austin.”
Sheldon
watched Milton push Austin up the stairs. For a moment irrationally and
stupidly, he wished he was in Austin’s
place. He would have the master all to himself and didn’t have Joe and everything else swirling in his head.
“You
heard the man, kitchen,” Sheldon said, turning from
the stairs and his melancholy thoughts. “Move.”
“Jesus,
you could try please.”
“Joe,
just go into the kitchen. I’m not in the mood for this at
the moment. Please.”
“I’m going. Chill, man.”
“Thanks.”
Sheldon
jerked open the doors of the big stainless steel refrigerator and searched the
shelves for something easy and edible. Pickles, sliced meats and cheeses,
homemade bread, and several types of mustard. That would do.
Joe
was hovering in the background looking both peevish and sheepish, his hands
stuffed into the pockets of his baggy pants. The kid would be handsome if he’d stand up straight and had something besides a scowl
on his face. He was a head taller than Sheldon with the start of a dark beard
on his face or maybe a fashionable three-day-old shadow.
“Chips
are in the pantry and wash an apple from over there.” Sheldon pointed at the fruit bowl on the counter.
“He
always order you around like that?” Joe
said, shuffling toward the pantry.
“You
mean Milton? Yes.” Sheldon lifted his chin so
his collar was more visible. “I’m sure you didn’t miss
this.”
“It
could be jewelry?”
“Nope,” Sheldon said with a shake of his head. “I do what he says. Slavery usually works that way.”
“Whoa.” Joe held up his hands, the chip bag acting as a make
shift shield. “You dudes are crazy. Austin doesn’t do this? I know him. He couldn’t hide that.”
“One
thing at a time,” Sheldon said, reaching for a
plate. “You’ve couch surfed yourself into
our little asylum—six of us, eight if you count
Trent and Mace.”
“The
guys cooking?”
“Yeah.”
“They…” Joe trailed off.
“Apple,
wash it.”
Sheldon pointed with his knife. “They just live here, but the others, we all belong to
Milton in some fashion or another.”
“Polyamory.
Six. Are you guys nuts?”
“Undoubtedly.” Sheldon spread slices of Vermont cheddar on the plate.
“God, it
must be complicated.” Joe was talking faster, and
he waved his hands as he spoke. “Are you
all slaves? Austin doesn’t have a collar. I know I
would’ve seen it.”
“I’m the only slave, but except Milton, we’re all submissives. What do you know about
submissives?”
“Stuff
on the internet.”
“Real,
not fantasy.”
“Not
much.”
“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Self-identified that way?”
“No way,
dude.” Joe slapped the apple down on the table. “I don’t do this kinky shit.”
“Deep
breath.” Sheldon gave Joe a small smile. “Don’t hyperventilate on me.
Master won’t be happy if you pass out and concuss yourself on the
floor or table.”
“Not
planning to.”
“It gets
worse from here.”
The
sounds were right on time. Austin was a vocal boy, and the half choked scream
spread down
the stairs and into the kitchen. Sheldon had heard the sound of
the cane also, but he knew the sound. To the uninitiated that sound might have
faded into the background.
“What
the fuck? What’s he doing to him?” Joe
looked toward the hall, his whole body stiffening as the second shout came,
louder this time and followed by the sounds of crying.
“Settle
down.” Sheldon pulled out a chair. “Sit and wait.”
“No! He’s hurting him.”
“And it’s entirely consensual; agreed upon; signed, sealed and
delivered. Austin doesn’t want you barging in.”
“He’s beating on him.”
“The
dominant is punishing his submissive. It is his right.”
“By
brutalizing him?”
“By
caning him. Do you know what that is?”
Joe
shrugged, his attention upstairs and to the less than muffled noise.
“The British
use to do it to their school boys, so it’s not
going to kill Austin. He’ll have some pretty stripes,
and he’ll show you later if you ask nicely. He won’t be super keen on sitting for a few hours, but he’ll live, and he’ll be
glued to Milton’s side. He’ll be a
hell of a lot more upset that Milton will ground his ass and remind him of his
privileges. A lifestyle submissive obeys his dominant or there is hell to pay.
Austin knows that and knew where this was going to end.” Sheldon stopped and gave Joe a long look. “How much pressure did you put on him to show up last
night?”
“I didn’t. That’s not
my fault. That’s the psychotic moose upstairs with the cane or
whatever you call it.”
“That
psychotic moose, as you put it, is going to give you a roof over your head and food in your stomach as well as
talk rationally to you about all this that you want and are too chicken shit to
admit, so watch yourself. Austin worrying about you is the best damn thing that
ever happened to you, so don’t you dare give him shit
about what you’re hearing. The kid’s
partially taking this for you. He’s a
softy, and he knows a fucked-up submissive when he sees one. He’ll be nicer than I will be. I’ll make your life hell if you give us any trouble. Don’t doubt it, boy. I have years of practice. Keep your
mouth shut, show up at meals, and be sweet, polite, and helpful, and we’ll get on great. Even insinuate that Austin is in the
wrong or hanging with an abuser, and I will make sure you end up under someone’s roof who is a hell of a lot less tolerant than
Milton. I know the right people, and some aren’t
as careful about meticulous consent. Are you reading me?”
“I think
you’re crazy.”
“That’s fine. Are you going to be a good boy? No trouble?
Sweet and biddable, and a true friend to Austin? He’s shown you true friendship. He’s letting you see this. Think about it, boy. Think
about it real hard.”
“God.” Joe raked his fingers through his hair. “At least that’s
stopped.”
“Probably
only six, but did you hear me. Do we have a deal? Austin’s depending on it.”
“OK,” Joe huffed. “I’ll pretend getting the shit beaten out of you is
normal, but, dude, if he touches me all bets are off. I don’t do this.”
“Don’t worry he won’t, but
you’ll also wish he did.”
“Yeah,
right.”
“Bet?” Sheldon held out his hand. “One month and you’ll be
asking him to train you as a submissive.”
“What’s the wager?”
“Fifty
dollars.”
“I’m in. Easiest money I’ve
ever made.”
“You’ll see. Cut the apple. They’ll be down, and he’ll want
finger food.”
Sheldon
knew his master too well or he’d developed a new skill in
fortune telling. Milton came down the stairs a few minutes later with his arm
tightly wrapped around Austin who still had reddened eyes and the look of near
tears, but was calm without the manic tension of earlier.
They were a handsome couple, Austin’s tousled hair that looked artfully windblown nestled
into Milton’s broad chest, Milton’s
strong face and deep brown eyes.
Austin
hovered near the table as Milton took a seat and reached for his plate.
“Kneel,
boy.”
Austin
shot a glance toward Joe.
“I’m sure he heard,” Milton
said with easy calm, “and Sheldon’s collar is well visible. He hasn’t run out the door, so kneeling isn’t going to shock him, and I know you don’t want to sit.”
“Sir,
can I…”
“Boy,
what do you want?”
“Can I
sit with you?”
Milton
smiled and pushed his chair from the table. “Come
here.”
“Thank
you,” Austin whispered as he settled on Milton’s thigh.
Sheldon
almost whimpered as he watched Austin. He wasn’t
envious, well, not exactly. He’d wanted Austin and Milton
together. They were beautiful together, and Austin kept Milton young. Still
Sheldon couldn’t help but wish he was against Milton’s chest, that those arms were around him, that someone
was looking at him with such a perceptive eye.
“Sheldon.”
“Yes,
Master.”
“Is
there something wrong?”
“No,
Master.”
“Not
beyond wanting to throttle Mike or finding our unexpected house guest
irritating?”
“No,
Master.” Sheldon was getting dangerously close to lying. He
could name several things wrong, and he was avoiding all of them.
“Come
here.” Milton beckoned with his finger. His brown eyes
searched Sheldon’s face as Sheldon stood
against his right thigh. “Truth?”
Sheldon
squirmed in Milton’s scrutiny and cast his gaze
downward. He was beyond truth, not one hundred percent false, but beyond Master’s tolerance.
“I
thought not. We will talk later.”
It
was both a promise and a threat, and Sheldon felt only relief. Master would
deal with it. Sheldon only needed to obey. Oh, God, Sheldon shot a glance at
Joe. He’d made that stupid bet. Master would deal with that,
and it wouldn’t be pretty, or lovely, or sympathetic.
“Master—“
“Shh,
boy. One crisis at a time.” Milton half smiled, a
twisting of his lips behind his grey spotted beard. His eyes twinkled with the
warmth and friendliness that escaped so many observers. He bent, kissed Austin’s head, and whispered
something in his cub’s ear.
Austin nodded and slid off Milton’s lap, his smile real, his wave almost jaunty.
Sheldon watched Austin. He hadn’t meant to
chase him away. Austin looked OK, relaxed, content, but he’d just been caned. “I—“
“All in
due time, Sheldon and don’t you
dare worry about Austin. He had his bit of comfort, and now he wants some
privacy. He’ll be
back in a bit and curl up with you.”
“I know but—“
“Yes, boy, I’ve
lived with you for a long time,” Milton said, his expression still half saintly, still
half too knowing. I expected a little
surprise of the not ideal sort. Now spill it.”
“How? I
haven’t—“
“Boy,
you’re stressed, and when you’re stressed, well, let’s
say odd coincidences happen.” Milton reached out and
ruffled Sheldon’s hair. “How
could I miss it? I might be a little slow on the uptake, but I’m not a corpse yet.”
“Shit!” Sheldon muttered under his breath.
“The
house is still standing. I’m not wearing my lunch, so it’s a good day so far.”
“Master,
I don’t—“
Milton
snorted, interrupting Sheldon’s attempt at denial. “You don’t dump
food over my head? I don’t have dementia yet, my boy.
My memory is still very strong of strange stains on my shirts.”
“I was
young.”
Milton
caught Sheldon’s wrist and pulled him close. “We were both young. It takes two for that dance.” Milton brushed his lips over Sheldon’s forehead. “I think
we’ve just about terrified Joe enough, so be a good boy
and leave the food off my shirt.”
“He
thinks we’re crazy.” Sheldon
turned his head to look at Joe who was standing against the refrigerator
watching them with a mixture of longing and distrust. Seeing Sheldon watching,
Joe’s expression hardened.
“I don’t think he’s
crazy; I think he’s an abusive bastard. I heard
it. You were beating on Austin.”
“I was,” Milton said with absolute calm. “And I have permission for every blow. I am the
dominant in the family, and you will respect that as long as you’re under our roof.”
“I’m not staying under your roof, not with a psychopath.”
“Do you
have somewhere to go? I understand you’ve
exhausted the welcome of all your friends and acquaintances. You have room and
board here as long as you need it. We don’t put
people on the street.”
“No, you
just beat the shit out of them. You’re not
touching me.”
“I’m not planning to. You are a guest, not one of my
submissives or a submissive who has requested training. I have no right or
permission to touch you.” Milton’s gaze never left Joe’s
face, trapping him as effectively as any snare. “I
ask only that you behave with common courtesy and do not harass or berate your
hosts. We will have words if you hassle or berate Austin for his choices. He is
mine to protect, and I will protect him. The rest, without ties of affection
toward you, can and will protect themselves, but you will face double jeopardy.
I protect all that is mine even if they have their own claws and teeth. Do we
understand each other?”
“I have
to sit here and take your crap and pretend this is all cool. Is that what you’re asking, old man?”
“You
missed the polite part of the request, but yes, that’s the essence of it.”
“Sorry,
politely sit here and pretend this is all normal, sir.”
“That is
correct, but be aware of the use of that tone of voice and sir around
dominants. I am very experienced, but not every dominant you meet will be as
tolerant or as cautious as I am. Baiting can be taken as permission by some.
Austin or Sheldon can explain it. They are not shy. Austin likes you and he’s a damn good friend. Don’t abuse him. Right now he’s being a far better friend than you are. Think about
it, Joe. Austin knew exactly where this was going to end, and he doesn’t like the cane or me disappointed in him. He gave you
something. He showed you the very essence of his submission, giving to others.
Don’t spit in his face. It’s
unkind and unworthy of anyone who calls himself Austin’s friend.”
“Fine.” Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and turned toward
the door. “Do I need your permission to go outside?”
“No, but
you’re baiting, boy. Be careful about what you catch on
that hook.”
Joe
spun around. “You touch me, and I’ll call
the fucking police and report you for assault.”
“Fair
enough since I would consider it assault also.” Milton
paused and continued when Joe didn’t move.
“Any of us will talk about it all you want when you’re ready. Now go on. It’s
warm and sunny today. Go calm yourself and enjoy the day. Dinner is a 6:30, and
you’ll go hungry if you’re not
here. It’s Sunday, so a tie tonight. I’m an old geezer that way. Ask Austin for something if
you’re entire wardrobe looks like that.”
“Are you
serious?”
“Very.” Milton made a shooing motion with his hands. “Now go get some fresh air. It might sweeten your
disposition.”
Sheldon
watch Joe swallow and nod. He was such a submissive; the boy might as well have
a sign around his neck—submissive, wee lost little
boy. No wonder Austin had felt compelled to drop himself into the middle of the
kid’s life. Austin was a happy smiley boy, but he’d been that lost little sheep and still recent enough
that he’d known exactly what Joe was feeling. Austin had it
all now, or at least those were Austin’s
words. He was a kind guy; he would want to share the wealth.
Sheldon
almost choked on his own spit as he thought of sharing the wealth. He’d been compelled to share. Shit! He was being an ass
again. He’d never throw Tilden out; Tilden had been there before
him: steady, comforting, supporting, always silent that Sheldon had what he
wanted for himself, never jealous. Tilden had always been there with a kind
word or a gentle arm over the shoulder, Tilden, the damn submissive, who had
pretended for so long to be the soft and gentle dominant, the counterweight to
Milton’s unrelenting demands, and all he’d wanted was to sink under those demands. Sheldon wasn’t blind; he saw the way Tilden soaked up Milton’s affection. They’d
always talked long into the night together, sharing their academic interests,
Milton pretending to be incompetent in Russian when Sheldon knew he read it
almost as well as Tilden. Milton’s
accent made Luke and Tilden grimace, so that part was real, but he’d never really needed help with the primary source
material. That was a ruse, one that Milton himself might not recognize as a
ruse to be with Tilden.
Milton
hadn’t tried to stray. Sheldon believed him; he believed
him fervently. He’d just always loved Tilden,
and the dam had finally burst. Sheldon could see that now. He could still see
as vivid as if it were only hours ago the guilt that had painted Milton’s face. He hadn’t meant
to let the lion out of the cage, but he’d
escaped. Sheldon accepted that. He accepted that the only way to make it right
was to let Tilden in. Sheldon couldn’t send
Tilden away. He wasn’t that selfish, and the meal
already eaten couldn’t be regurgitated back to a
placid beast grazing on the savannah. Sheldon got that.
“Hey.” Milton’s hand landed on Sheldon’s shoulder, heavy and comforting. “Where are you?”
“Thinking,
Master.”
“Worrying,
more like it. So what scheme have you gotten yourself into?” Milton’s smile was gentle, relaxed.
“Nothing.”
Milton
raised his eyebrow and gave Sheldon a long look. “Boy.”
“I bet
your money,”
Sheldon blurted out. Where had that come
from? He had entered into that stupid bet. He had been going to tell Milton,
but not at this very instant.
Milton
tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a minute, as if studying the
chandelier that had hung there for as long as Sheldon had lived here. “With Joe I assume?”
“Yes,
Master.”
“And the
details.”
Milton’s voice
suggested someone who was long suffering.
“That he’d be begging for you to thrash him within a month. He
was being an ass about you and Austin, calling you an abusive old man.”
“Sheldon.” Milton leaned forward and hooked his arm around
Sheldon. “Any half sane person is going to think the same thing.
I’m old enough to be Austin’s father, and he was screaming his head off. It had to sound
like I was murdering him.”
“You
wouldn’t hurt him.”
“You
know me. You trust me. I’m a complete stranger to Joe,
and the kid is desperately trying to bury his true nature. Of course he’s going to be shouting obscenities about me. This is
not new for you, Sheldon. You know better.”
“Yes,
Master,” Sheldon said, hiding his face and blinking back
unwelcome tears.
“What
else?” Milton’s voice had softened. His
hand swept under Sheldon’s chin, and he studied his
boy’s face. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, stood up[, and held out his hand. “Come on. I know that expression.” He shook his head and gave Sheldon a half smile. “Someday before I am in my grave, you will ask me
instead of burying yourself in trouble.”
“I—“
“Boy, we’ll do this after your ass is
cherry red. We’ll both talk a lot more sensibly. Upstairs now.” Milton stood and took Sheldon with him, his hand tight
in Sheldon’s, his knowledge absolute that Sheldon would follow
him.
