Marcus & Christian


I knew it would escalate into an argument, and of course it did. Lately it seemed everything ended in a fight between Laura and me. Whatever it was about, she found fault with it. If I got caught up in traffic, she got mad. If the coffee I brought her was not hot enough, she got mad. I am pretty sure if the moon forgot to come out one night, she would blame me for it too. Nothing I did was right.

Well, I had had it. I was going to the party that night and that was that. I was not going to let her ruin it for me. I needed a break. Besides I didn’t know what she was mad about; it was not as if I was going to meet other girls there. It was strictly an all-boys party. Shoot some pool maybe, have a few beers probably, watch a game – at least that was what I thought how it would be. Not that I had ever been invited to one of Mr Lowen’s parties before. I mean, that man was rich and successful and his parties almost legendary. Everyone in town knew about them and I had to be the luckiest guy to get invited. I didn’t think Mr Lowen even remembered me.

Being a poor 3rd year engineering student, and living in the college dorms, meant I hardly moved in Mr Lowen’s circle. I had been casually introduced to him in a crowded pub a few weeks back and we hardly exchanged two words. He had been genial and affable, smiling in a friendly way at me and Laura. Not at all stuck up like I thought he would be. Well, that taught me never to pre-judge people! Especially now that he had specially asked that I be invited to his party.

Laura just didn’t get it; or rather she refused to get it. How on earth could I take her with me when she hadn’t been invited? And how on earth could she get invited when it was a bachelors’ night out. Talk about stubborn and unreasonable, she had to be the epitome of those traits.

I was glum as I made my way back to my room at the dorm. I didn’t like fighting with Laura, or anyone for that matter. I felt it was such a waste of energy and time. Which is why I usually let her have her way. But I wanted to go to this party so much. I can still remember how Mr Lowen had grasped my hand, his eyes fixed steadfastly on mine. He had such presence, his personality was almost magnetic. I felt drawn to him – just like that. No wonder he was so popular and successful.

Well, it was about time I put my foot down and did something for myself for a change. Who knew what doors this could open for me. As I started to get ready for the party - as I tried to decide which pair of jeans to wear and if I should match that with a shirt or sweater - I pushed Laura to the back of my mind and allowed myself to feel excited. And happy.


I was keeping an eye out for him. In a way, this party was for him, only he didn’t know that. Since the night I had seen him at the pub, I had felt a strong attraction to him. Sure, he had a girlfriend and was straight, but so what? That didn’t mean he couldn’t be influenced otherwise. I could be pretty persuasive. Plus I had personally seen how hungry they could get, once they had had a taste of the alternative, how they wanted more. And this one was incredibly cute, well worth my time and efforts. His shy smile had got to me at once.

It’s actually been a while since I had thrown one of my ‘boy’s parties’. Usually I made sure there was a mix of genders, much less talk that way. But I had to find a way to ditch that girlfriend of his, whatever her name was. The way she clung onto him, and controlled his every move, I could tell immediately the bitch would ruin him. He needed to get rid of her for his own good, and I would help him do it. The poor boy may not know it yet but he would be much better off once he was out of her clutches.

I didn’t have long to wait - he was one of the early arrivals (ah, they were always so eager) which suited me just fine. Gave me a chance to get to know him better. I went over to him immediately and shook his hand warmly. His smile almost blinded me.

His eyes traveled around the room; I could tell he was impressed. Hell, the room had been designed to impress! For business deals and other things .…

“What can I get you to drink, Marc?” I put a hand on his back and guided him towards the bar. “Vodka please,” I said to the bartender, when Marc hesitated.

“I’ll have the same then,” Marc said, obviously feeling that it was safer to follow my lead. I was pleased. Another good trait, which I appreciated.

Once we had our drinks in our hands, I said, “Let me show you around.”

Marc was all eagerness. He didn’t try to hide it, and maybe that was one of the things that set him apart from the others. Young people sometimes tried to act too cool and oh-so sophisticated. Marc’s wide-eyed wonder and enthusiasm was very appealing to me indeed. He gasped at the mini-theatre and ooh’ed at the pool room. And when I showed him the master bedroom and attached en suite with the huge sunken bath, he turned to me and said with simple pleasure, “Mr Lowen, your house is amazing! I mean, I have never seen anything like this before! I feel so – honored to be here.”

His smile washed over me like sunshine. I could bask in it for hours, days even. I laughed out loud, suddenly caught up in his excitement. “Thank you Marcus, you are quite a delight, do you know?”

I didn’t bother to see what effect my words had on him, and began to lead the way back to the front of the house. I said as we walked, “And please, you must call me Christian. That’s what my friends do. Mr Lowen sounds much too old, and kind of frosty - don’t you think?”

I saw him blush and smile, and to my surprise, my breath caught in my throat. He was having a greater effect on me than I was prepared for. I was further amused when he managed to blurt out, “Oh you are not old at all, Mr … I mean Christian.”

I could see he found it difficult to use my name. Oh well, he would learn in time to come.


What a wild night, I thought to myself. The drinks were flowing a bit too freely, and the guys were getting a little boisterous. This was the third boys’ only party I had been invited to in the last two months, besides going out to dinner once with Christian and a couple of his closest friends, Chad and Chester. That too had been an experience; I suppose when one had money, life could offer you its best.

Being with Christian was always great fun, no matter where we were or what we did. He was generous and thoughtful and attentive, and I was convinced he was the best host in the world. At least in my world.

I surveyed the room and saw there weren’t that many guests this time – a much more select group than usual. I was glad to note that most were those I had met previously, guests who were funny and witty and easy to talk to - not at all proud or standoffish like I had feared. Actually, I was beginning to feel rather smug about my status. For some reason, Christian had taken a liking for me and he treated me with easy familiarity – as if I was a part of the house and the style of things. He even sent me to open the front door when the guests arrived and to fetch his glasses from the bedroom for him. I felt like I belonged, and that gave me a real buzz.

I hadn’t bothered to call Laura to tell her where I would be. Like she would understand and approve! We had hardly spoken in the last week, and I was secretly glad. She hadn’t called me either. Well, two can play the game and if she cared at all, she should have called, so it was not all my fault. The minute I had rationalized that, I felt a sudden jolt of disappointment and sadness; I guess it was then I realized Laura and I were over. We had drifted too far apart to ever make it work.

I found the drink in my hand replaced with a fresh glass, and smiled my thanks at the waiter. I must have had three drinks so far, or was it four? I couldn’t remember, not that it mattered. Everyone appeared to be as tipsy me, and I was pretty sure Christian would insist I spend the night in one of the guest rooms if I couldn’t drive home.

As if he had read my mind, Christian came over and swung an arm around my shoulder. Leaning close, he whispered into my ear. “Why so sullen, Marcus?”

I shook my head. “I am not.”

He raised his eyebrows at me. “You are lying, I can tell,” he said with mock sternness. Taking my arm, he steered me towards the open patio so we could be alone. It was early fall and remnants of summer still clung to the air. It was very pleasant out there, with a cooling breeze and the smell of roses and lavender.

“Spit it out, Marcus my boy,” Christian cajoled, nudging my arm. “Did something happen to upset you?”


“Look at you,” he said in a much too sympathetic tone, as he brought one hand to my face and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “All blue and sad. Won’t you tell me why?”

I felt the heat rise to my face. I had jumped at his touch, unexpected as it was, though it had also felt strangely reassuring. “It’s nothing,” I mumbled.


In the end I told him. “So I think there is really no point in holding on to something so obviously broken … is there?”

I heard Christian tut and sigh, and then he had an arm around me again, and gave me a tight squeeze. I felt comforted. He pulled me over to one of the garden seats and sat down, indicating for me to sit beside him. He asked me to tell him how Laura and I met, and how our relationship had been and listened intently as I blurted out my many woes and frustrations. It felt good to get it off my chest.

“My poor baby,” Christian said when I paused and I looked at him in surprise. He didn’t seem to notice, but continued in a low voice. “I understand how painful it can be. It’s ok if you just want to sit here and talk about it. I am all ears.”

“Oh no,” I said, horrified that I was keeping him from his party with my petty problems. For it did feel rather insignificant and petty after I had blurted it all out. Laura and I didn’t have that great a relationship after all. “I shouldn’t be keeping you from your guests!”

Christian looked into the dimmed room. “Oh, I think they can take care of themselves,” he said with a wry chuckle.

I followed his eyes and stared, my own eyes abruptly glued to the couple on the sofa. They were making out – two men - oblivious to the others around them. No one paid them any attention either, as they groped each other, their mouths hungrily attached. I swallowed, suddenly embarrassed.

I felt Christian’s eyes on me and I kept my gaze straight, not daring to look at him in case he too was embarrassed. “Look,” he said, giving me a light nudge and I cringed. He must have seen them too.

I responded as casually as I could. “It’s a free world, after all … n-nothing wrong …”

“Over there, behind the palm, can you see them?” He asked softly.

I realized he was focused on somewhere totally different and I obediently scanned the dark corners of the room. I stopped breathing as I realized what Christian was looking at. Hidden partially in the shadows behind a luxurious indoor palm, I could see a man on his knees, crouching in front of another man. The kneeling man blocked my view but it was pretty obvious what he was doing. The standing man’s eyes were closed, his mouth drawing deep breaths as his partner worked on him.

We both watched the scene in silence. Much as I wanted to tear my eyes away, I couldn’t. I had never seen two men have a go at it and it felt strangely exciting. I continued to watch, drowning in a twist of horrific fascination. I was jolted out of the spell as Christian moved, turned and looked at me, his eyes dark and intense. I held my breath.

“You sure you are ok now? No pretense between us, Marcus. I just want you to be happy. I actually think you are better off without Laura, from what you have told me. She is not worth it – she wasn’t making you happy.”

My mind reeled, slightly dazed at the abrupt change of subject. “N-no, she wasn’t,” I stammered.

“And you deserve to be.”

I nodded without speaking.

“Anytime you want to talk, or need a friend, you call me, you hear?”


“You are special, Marcus. “And with that, he leaned forward and placed a light kiss on my forehead.

I froze.

Christian patted my thigh and got up. “Why don’t you take a minute alone, Marcus. It’s nice out here, isn’t it? Enjoy the air. Then I want you to come on in and forget about Laura,” he ordered.

I held my breath as I watched him walk slowly back inside. I followed Christian as he worked the room like a pro, skillfully avoiding the couple on the sofa. I watched him stop and chat with Chad. The couple behind the palm finished off their business and rejoined the party, laughing with the others. No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

I was beginning to feel surreal. One read about such things, but I had never expected to witness this in real life. What kind of world was this? And what the fuck was I doing here? And then suddenly my heart swelled as I remembered how Christian had asked me to call him friend and I staggered slightly as I started to walk back inside, mindful of Christian’s order, marveling how kindly he had treated me, and how I now somehow ‘belonged’ to his set.


I could see Marc was getting bleary. I would have to tip the waiter well for being so obedient to my orders. But I wanted him high and relaxed, not wasted, so I made my way over to him and removed his glass. “I think you’ve had enough, my boy.”

He blinked and swayed slightly.

“How are you doing, Marcus? Feeling better?” I asked quietly, so that only he heard me.

He lashes fluttered down, hiding his eyes as a shy smile touched his lips. “Yes,” he said, and then he looked up at me with those impossibly gorgeous eyes. “Christian, t-thank you!”

I laughed at him, and saw the uncertainty immediately cross his face. “Absurd little thing. What is there to thank me for?”

The relief flooded his face; he was so transparent. “You have been so kind – “ he started to say but I cut him off.

“Nonsense. You are my friend, and I take care of my friends. You remember that.”

I watched him swallow the lump in his throat.

“Listen,” I said as I made a show of glancing around, “the party’s winding down, and it’s getting late. Why don’t you go into the guest room and lie down for a bit while I get rid of the others. You can stay the night, you know? You really shouldn’t be driving; besides I think it’s a good idea for you not to be alone tonight.”

I didn’t give him a chance to protest as I put my arm around him and walked him towards the suite of rooms. He didn’t really resist either as I pushed him towards the bed and pulled the covers off. “Get comfortable, ok?”

I went into the bathroom and retrieved a bathrobe. “Here you go, put this on.”

He took the robe. “Thanks.”

“Use anything you need in the bathroom. Get some sleep; you’ll feel better when you wake.”

I flicked the lights off on my way out. I left the door slightly ajar, so that a weak orange hue streaked into the darkened room. “Good night,” I said, and with a backward glance, left him alone.

Only Chad and Chester – both my close buddies – had remained, the others having let themselves out. I tipped the waiter, and dismissed him also. Chad handed me a fresh glass. “Guess you’ve got plans tonight, so we should be lopping off too,” he said meaningfully. He had seen me lead Marcus into the guest room.

“No hurry,” I replied, sinking down onto my favorite leather recliner. “Plenty of time.”

Chester grinned and sat on the opposite couch. “How wasted is he?”

“Enough,” I said. “I want him to sleep some of it off, but not enough to get him refreshed. He should be feeling very heavy headed in about a half hour. Just when I will be waking him up actually …” I laughed softly.

“You are a bastard,” Chester said with a total absence of censure.

“Now, now,” I said.

“How sure are you that he will bite?” Chad asked.

“Well, the timing is perfect, couldn’t have turned out better. Looks like our boy and girlfriend are just about done, and he is feeling the blues.“ I sighed. “Absolutely vulnerable. What he needs tonight is a sympathetic friend, offering comfort and understanding. “

Chester chuckled. “How convenient for you!”

“Yes, isn’t it?” I replied brightly, taking a small sip of my vodka. I didn’t want to get too high either.

Chad poured himself another drink. “You have the devil’s own luck. Watch out it doesn’t run out when you are least expecting it. You might get burned … AuWoooo …” he howled playfully.

“I won’t,” I said firmly. Marcus wasn’t the first guy I had seduced, and he won’t be the last either. But he was certainly special. I had been unable to get him out of my mind in the past month. Every time I think of his laughing eyes, I could feel my heart beat faster.

“He is a cutie,” Chester said, eyeing me sideways.

“Hands off!” I growled.

“No worries … you share sooner or later.”

I paused. It was true in the past I had shared quite indiscriminately. I enjoyed the chase most, and once it was over, the excitement was gone too. Sometimes even during the pursuit, I would begin to tire of the game but somehow this time was different. Just the thought of sharing Marcus made me querulous – the thought didn’t appeal to me in the least. Damn! He was really getting under my skin.

I looked over at my two friends. “Marcus is not up for sharing, not unless I say so,” I said coldly.

They backed down immediately.

“Whatever you say, Chris.”

“Can’t say I blame you, he is deeee…licious. Don’t tell us we can’t even admire from afar?”

“No,” I said candidly, “you can look all you want, but you cannot touch!”

Chad and Chester exchanged an amused look.

“Generous!” Chad exclaimed in a mocking tone.

“Haven’t seen you this hot for a boy in a while,” Chester teased, making loud slurping noises.

“Are those bags I see below your eyes?”

“Aw…Christian! You are in looooove …..”

I smiled and allowed my friends to enjoy the banter and guffaw between them, while I placidly took another sip of my drink. Things were going too well for me to take umbrage.


I felt slightly sick as the bed moved. Was I on a boat, swaying with the waves? I felt a cool hand on my face and forced my eyes open.

“Christian …?” I mumbled as my vision cleared. “Where am …?”

“Hush,” he whispered.

“I feel sick,” I moaned.

“I know. Here, take this.”

I held out my hands automatically and accepted the glass of water and the two tablets Christian offered. Without asking, I swallowed them. The water tasted so good.

“What time is it?” I asked hoarsely.

“Time to go back to sleep. Lie down and close your eyes.”

His voice was firm and his hands were insistent, pushing me down. I let him. After a while, I felt a strange lethargy come over me, a rather nice floating feeling. My headache was slowly receding too, but I felt too tired to do anything else except close my eyes and enjoy the coolness of the silk sheets. What luxury, I thought, snuggling deeper.

I must have dozed off again, for I was suddenly aware of someone pressing against me, leaning over me. A light lingering scent assailed my nostrils – like expensive cologne - and I fought through the layers, as a soft mouth descended on mine. It felt good; its touch was gentle and teasing, little butterfly kisses that brought a moan to my lips.

My eyelids fluttered but refused to open. The kisses became more insistent, until I felt my lips being pushed apart. A warm wet tongue slowly slipped inside my mouth and I shivered. Something was not right, or something was wrong. Heck, wasn’t it the same thing? Why was it so difficult for me to think straight, to focus?

I managed to get my hands to move and tried to pry the weight off my chest.

A familiar voice whispered in my ear. “It’s okay, Marcus. Just a dream.”

“W-what?” I struggled to sit up.

“You were dreaming … moaning in your sleep.”

Was I? I couldn’t remember.

“Close your eyes,” Christian said.

“I feel so tired …” I said.

“I know.” He ran his fingers slowly through my hair. Over and over again. “Feel good?”

“Christian …” I swallowed. I didn’t want him to stop, yet at the same time … and then I felt his other hand on my stomach, caressing me with smooth gentle circles.

“Relax, this will make you feel better.” The hand continued to rub.

“It’s … weird …” I said weakly, not daring to reject his advances. Besides, I didn’t know if I wanted him to stop in the first place. His touch was warm and caring and comforting – something I had missed in a long while.

“Why?” His eyes smiled down at me.

He had never smiled in that way at me before. My stomach lurched and my heart was thumping so hard, I felt breathless. “It feels weird,” I repeated, as I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Shh …” He came closer still. “It’s perfectly okay, Marcus. We are friends, are we not?”


“I want you to feel good. I want to take care of you, because you are so special to me.”

My eyes were having trouble focusing. Christian’s face swam in and out of my vision. Struggling, I managed to pull myself up slightly, but the headboard prevented me moving away. “What are you … please Christian …. W-what are you doing?” I stammered. His hand had moved down to my thigh.

“When was the last time someone stroked your cock?” he asked. His voice was so calm and matter of fact that I blinked. I wasn’t sure I had heard correct.


“This …”

I cried out as I felt Christian’s hand slide over the bulge under my underwear. I had slipped my jeans off and put on the robe when I got into bed and now I felt so exposed. His hand began to caress me, sliding along the length and despite myself, I felt my penis hardening. “Oh God!” I murmured.

“You want this, Marcus,” Christian said, his voice low and deep. “It feels so good, doesn’t it? Feel how hard you are now.”

I gasped a few times as his fingers played over the cotton material, tickling me and making my skin tingle all over. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had sex with Laura and Christian was making me feel so good, so horny.

Some semblance of sanity returned and I protested. “Oh please Christian, please stop … please … no …”

He paid no attention to my pleas, but instead deliberately drew the front of my cotton briefs down so that he could draw my cock out. His warm hand immediately clasped it, and he began to stroke it up and down and I arched my back as a loud groan escaped from my lips. I closed my eyes tight, relishing the wonderful sensation of having my cock stroked so skillfully.

"No, oh God, no, stop … no … I don’t want to … Christian please, please …”

But by then both of us knew I didn’t mean a word of what I just said. I saw him move his face closer, smiling knowingly. “Marcus, let me kiss you,” he commanded.

Once again, I felt those lips linger over mine and then he kissed me, gently at first, then more deeply, and finally with his tongue demanding entry. I slowly opened my mouth, letting his tongue slip past my lips until our tongues met. My head swam with the sudden burst of desire that coursed through me. Oh God! I loved having Christian’s mouth on mine. I loved the feel of his tongue invading my mouth.

Christian slipped an arm under me, around my shoulders and I felt his fingers grip me firmly, so that I couldn’t move away. He was murmuring into my ear, in between kisses, in a soft caressing tone. “You are so beautiful, Marcus, and everything is going to be fine …. Just relax, I am not going to hurt you… do you know how gorgeous you are? Oh baby ….”

My heart filled with joy as he heaped sweet praises on me; I was soaking it up like a sponge. I felt loved and appreciated and desirable. And then he threw the sheets off and began to masturbate me in earnest. I lost all coherent thought as I climaxed, spilling my seed into his fist.

Marcus & Stewart


My world was spinning so fast, I could hardly catch up!

I still couldn’t believe how my life had changed, in just one night. Laura and I split up the next day. I think we would have split up eventually if not then; the episode with Christian just accelerated things. There was no way I could continue with her, not after what happened between Christian and me.

Six months later, I still blushed whenever I recalled how tense and nervous I had been when I realized Christian was in bed with me. I still remember the mix of fear, panic and … yes, unexpected thrill I had felt when he had touched me and masturbated me that night, till I came in his hand. That was one explosive cum, and even now, I could get hard just thinking about it.

Of course, we had gone beyond just that in the months that followed. The things Christian taught me took me on a roller coaster ride. I had never considered myself gay or imagined I would enjoy being with another man, but Christian had revealed a side of myself I never knew existed. I had not been with another woman since that night, and the strange thing was I didn’t even miss it.

I had thought my encounter with Christian would be a one-time fling, a moment of madness, and we would both be grossly embarrassed when we woke up and faced one another in the morning. I was prepared for that, and I had planned to apologize profusely for somehow having led Christian into such a situation. I didn’t know if it was my fault or not, but it didn’t matter because he had been so kind to me and I was willingly to take the blame to ease the situation.

Instead, I found Christian smiling at me with an amused look in his eyes when I pried mine open, with not a trace of discomfiture or any unease whatsoever. It was still dark outside but I could see Christian’s face quite clearly as my eyes adjusted to the dim room. I stiffened, ready to bolt but he put out a hand and held me to him, possessively. His touch once again sent shivers down my spine; his hand felt so much bigger than Laura’s, firmer, stronger, and infinitely more protective. I responded to his unspoken command automatically. I lay still.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Marcus?” he whispered.

I could only swallow.

“Good,” he crooned.

He took his time to kiss me again, slowly, deliberately, till I moaned out a response. Christian’s touch was sure and confident, displaying no sign of any of the awkwardness I had anticipated. His kiss deepened as his hands began to fondle me, touching me in hidden places. I found myself responding with a sudden desperate unfamiliar hunger. It was as unexpected as it was spontaneous. And then he proceeded to show me just how good a man could make me feel as he made his way down my chest to my navel and then to my crotch. When his warm mouth engulfed me, I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t understand why I didn’t stop him or get up and run out. Why I didn’t feel repulsed by what he was doing to me. When I glanced down and saw what he was doing to me, all I knew was that I didn’t want him to stop. And later, after he had let me come in his mouth and sucked up every last drop of my cum, I lay quietly within the circle of his arm and felt so damned wretched.


I tapped the paper in front of me, trying to focus my mind on the face. There were over a hundred students in my class and it was a challenge to remember them all. I was sure it was near impossible, especially for a part-time lecturer like me. But this face was different.

Marcus Fischer. Sandy blond-hair, shy smile, who liked to sit on the third row to the left of the lecture hall, and who listened so intently that sometimes I felt I was delivering my lecture to only him.

Now why did he make me feel that way?

I looked down at his paper and pursed my lips. I called up the file on my notebook, re-checking the tracking sheet I kept of my class’ progress. Yes, there he was, a slightly above average student, with an occasional A rating. So why the sudden failed grade?

It was so uncharacteristic of Marcus Fischer; I felt he could have done better, much better. He had been one of the few who bothered to raise a hand if he didn’t understand a point, and whenever I had engaged with him, I had found his understanding strong and his grasp of the subject matter logical. There was no way he could turn in this paper. With his fierce concentration, he should have easily scored at least a B.

I screened through the test paper again, trying to see if I had missed something, or had been too harsh in my assessment. After a second careful scrutiny, I decided my original assessment had been correct – I could not find it in myself to grade it any higher. Resolutely, I wrote a big F on the top right hand corner of the paper and put it aside from the pile of marked papers on my desk.

I found my eyes turning towards the 3rd row at our next lecture, almost subconsciously searching him out. I was pleased to see he was at his usual place; for some reason I had been afraid he wouldn’t show up. I really wanted to be able to help him; I had a feeling he needed it. I prided myself in being able to sense these things. I had encountered many young men like him, floundering during these critical years, and some even beyond early adulthood. Some were more able to cope than others but I had a feeling Marcus wasn’t one of those. There were some who needed more time to find their way, needing more direction, and more guidance as they grew and matured; and then there were some who would want and need a helping hand throughout their lives, regardless of how old they got. I wanted to give a helping hand to such lost souls - well, one lost soul in this case.

I allowed my gaze to be directed towards Marcus’ corner rather more than usual, and after a while I decided something was different. He wasn’t paying the usual attention to my lecture; in fact he hardly looked up throughout the entire session. I hadn’t really noticed anything wrong with Marcus previously, but then perhaps I had not really paid that close attention to him before I failed his grade.

Five minutes before the end of class, I made my usual announcements. Reference material the class had to seek out, assignment dates, etc. Then I called out, “Mr Fischer!”

He was in a world of his own, didn’t even register his own name.

“Mr Marcus Fischer!” I said, louder this time.

His head jerked up, he looked perplexed. “Sir?”

He must have suddenly noticed the hundred odd pairs of eyes looking at him, waiting for a reaction, for he swiftly sat up and cleared his throat. “I’m s-sorry sir … um …?”

“Please see me after class, Mr Fischer.” My tone was cool and pleasant; it was not all that uncommon for me to single out students occasionally for a private discussion on their assignments or progress.

Without waiting for a response I turned back to the class. A couple more reminders and I dismissed them. Marcus slumped back into his seat, and kept his head down as his college-mates trooped out. I stood by the front desk, spoke with a couple of students on their way out and waited patiently while Marcus slowly packed his notes into his back-pack and allowed the hall to clear.

“Sir?” He stopped in front of me.

“Marcus.” I sighed and gestured for him to come closer. “I have just finished grading the last exam paper and I am about to send the results in for posting.”

His eyes were wary and he seemed to hold his breath as he watched me.

“How do you think you fared, Marcus?” I asked.

He drew in a breath, and then shrugged, not insolently but more in a shy, abstract manner. As if he didn’t quite know what to say. Which was spot on. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Hmm.” I observed him silently for a moment, and his eyes dropped. A slight flush was creeping up his cheeks, making him look absurdly shy and angelic. “You didn’t quite make it, Marcus,” I said, gently.

Marcus swallowed. His long eyelashes flickered and the flush quickly died, replaced instead by whitened cheeks. “I … what did … ?”

“Yes, Marcus?” I waited for him to continue.

“Please Dr Spencer,” he suddenly pleaded, “Can I have another chance? I can do the paper again, or, or make it up with another assignment?”

I paused, and then shook my head; genuinely sorry I couldn’t offer more options. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Marcus.” I began to stack my papers and put them into my briefcase. “I checked through your records and so far you have a pretty good average for this class. What happened this time?”

He bit his lip and looked away. “I don’t know, just one of those things. I am sorry Dr Spencer, please …”

I held up my hand. “Stop!”

His eyes were large as he gazed at me.

“Fortunately this paper accounts for only 20% of the final score. You have a comfortable pass so far, and I believe with some extra tutorial, you should be able to pull through for the finals. But you need to put in some real effort, Marcus.”

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t look convinced.

I did a rapid mental review of my schedule. “Tell you what I will do, Marcus. I’d like to schedule a private session with you. Every Wednesday at, say 1.30pm, to go through the work till you’ve caught up. My room, it’s on the 10th floor of the U-block.”

I couldn’t tell if he was thrilled or appalled.

“We start next week. And don’t be late!” I said, as I turned and walked briskly away.


Christian was a demanding boyfriend, if I could call him that. He had expectations. For one thing, I had to let him know where I was all the time. He was mostly okay with my planned whereabouts, but he would occasionally frown and disallow me to attend certain events. Like one time he told me I couldn’t join some friends for a drink at the local pub. I didn’t think he really minded my going; he just wanted to flex his authority and subject me to his rule. To see if I would obey him. I suspect he harbored a kind of fierce control streak in him and he needed to feel he was in charge and was able to wield his authority and power over me.

Well, I didn’t go in the end because I wanted to please him more than anything else, and I rather liked the idea of submitting to his will. He was especially nice to me that evening, pleased at my obedience and submission, which was reward enough.

He wasn’t too pleased though when I told him I was having a one on one tutorial with Dr Spencer.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because I failed the last test? And I might very well flunk the entire paper if I didn’t get help?” I replied.

“Why is he offering you private sessions?”

“He is doing me a favor!” I cried, exasperated. “Dr Spencer is not even a full-time lecturer; he teaches a couple of classes only and he is giving up his personal time to help me! He doesn’t even need to be on campus on Wednesday afternoons!”

Christian looked annoyed. “Well, I don’t like it.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Well, I am sorry Christian, but I need to pass this class or I am not going to graduate next year.” I had attended two private sessions with Dr Spencer so far and I found I was beginning to get a good grasp of the subject. I didn’t want to stop now.

“So what’s the big deal?” Christian didn’t hold much store with such things. “Graduate later, or not at all. It’s not going to kill you!” He took a totally careless and cavalier attitude towards college and graduation. He himself never finished college and yet he had more style, panache and connections than a whole lot of other people put together, plus he had made his money before he even turned thirty. I could see how he would have formed his opinion on formal education.

I kept my mouth shut for I had learned that it didn’t pay to argue with him. Much better to keep silent and hope that he would either forget about it or let it go.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I went to him and he pulled me onto his lap. I guess I was pouting because he tapped my lips. He held me easily while he kissed me. His hand came to rest on my crotch and he unzipped me. He played with me for a while before he pushed me off his lap and onto the floor on all fours. He kept me on my knees while he slowly pulled my pants and underwear down.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he lubed me. I heard the rustle of clothes as he got himself ready and then he was pushing his way into me, filling me with that aching fullness that I had come to expect and accept.

He took his time working his shaft in and out of me. My hands trembled as I took both our weights on the carpeted floor, feeling him slide in ever deeper and faster, his breaths coming in long loud gasps behind me. My cock was hard too, and seeking for release but I wouldn’t touch myself unless Christian let me. Sometimes he reached down and gave it to me, sometimes he allowed me to stroke myself; and sometimes he just let me suffer.

“Do you want to come, Marcus?”


“All right,” Christian growled. I could feel him ready to shoot. “You come for me. And only me!”

I eagerly reached for my cock and cried out as I brought myself to orgasm. Above me, Christian was pumping hard, his cock stretching me unbearably until he ejaculated. I lay my head on the floor, waiting for Christian to subside. Sex with Christian was always hot - since the first time he had taken me that way. It had taken me a while to get used to it though. It was not something I had ever thought about after all, that is till I met Christian but he was a good teacher. I couldn’t say it was always pleasant but I had learned to yearn for it when I was feeling horny.

I guess my mind was still all jumbled up and chaotic, and I felt myself gasping for air at times, as much as I felt myself clutching at a life line when in one my confused states. After half a year, I sometimes still felt things were going too fast or spiraling out of control. Occasionally my life made sense; every so often it did not. The only thing I knew for sure was that my life was confusing like hell at times.


I was pleased with Marcus’ progress. He had a quick mind and a great attitude. I had enjoyed the two sessions I had had with him so far. Which made me all the more disappointed when he didn’t turn up for our 3rd.

I considered calling him to check, but decided that wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t going to badger him into attending the tutorials. I was doing this to save his neck and I needed him to be committed, to want to do it too.

I did wonder if perhaps some emergency had come up which prevented him showing up. Then I shrugged; he could have called to let me know. I had given him my cell phone number. In fact it would have been the polite thing to do. Once again, I felt the stab of disappointment. He didn’t strike me as being irresponsible or callous. I couldn’t be that wrong about him.

After waiting thirty minutes, I packed up and left the building. I glanced at my watch as I left U-block, and looked keenly around just in case Marcus was late but there was no sign of him. I got into my car, feeling suddenly dejected.
My mobile rang just as I started the engine and I put my Bluetooth on to take the call, wondering for a moment if it was Marcus.

It was my friend, Philip. “Hey Phil? No, I haven’t forgotten about the meeting tonight. Yes, thanks for the reminder, I will be there.” After a few more exchanges we hung up.

I drove home slowly, going on auto pilot. My mind wandered, dwelling on recent past events and not looking forward to going back to an empty house. I didn’t really mind living alone, had done it for years; but it could get lonely sometimes, especially after the occasional house guest. I was no stranger to changing routines, in fact I adapted well to different needs and circumstances, so I was rather surprised at my own restlessness. It had been ages since I had felt so twitchy.

I taught about an average of twenty hours a week at the college. Besides lecturing, I also acted as technical advisor for a couple of technology companies but as the requirement for my attendance was sporadic, depending on product cycles and seasonal patterns, it left me enough time and flexibility to engage in other pursuits. This arrangement suited me just fine.

Oh well, I shrugged as I killed the engine and walked up the drive of my house, this edginess will pass. It better, I thought sternly to myself. Perhaps, I mused, that was also one of the reasons I was reaching out for Marcus, to feel connected.

Firmly shrugging off any further wasteful conjecture, I let myself into the house. Checked my messages as I flipped through whatever little mail I had. The hot shower revived me sufficiently to look forward to my evening engagement. Our group met quite frequently, at least once a month, sometimes more if there was a need. The choice of restaurant was usually tasteful, and the company great; we had a lot in common.

I was suitably cheered by the time I entered the restaurant, which was fashionably crowded. As usual, we had prior reservations and I was immediately shown to our seats at the bar area. Philip was already there and he waved me over.

“Did you come alone?” he asked. “Where’s Andrew?”

“Graduated,” I replied, with a grin.

“Ah!” Philip said, a laugh in his expressive eyes. “I see. That was pretty fast.”

I nodded. “He was a good student.”

“Or you a good teacher?” he said gently.

“That too.” I laughed.

A few more friends appeared and soon our corner filled up. There were only men in our party and since most of us had known one another for years, the conversation was easy, friendly and not necessarily very polite. A couple of the newer members were shyer and they sat quietly but joined in readily enough whenever they were addressed.

We had finished one round of drinks by the time the waiter came and told us our table was ready. Just as we rose to go to our table, I heard someone mutter, “Oh look, that’s Christian Lowen over there, with his party.”

I pricked up my ears and Philip glanced over at me. That name held an interest for us. I looked up and scanned the room. And then I opened my eyes in surprise. There, right next to Christian Lowen, looking incredibly cute and sparkling, was Marcus.

Christian & Stewart


I felt Marcus stiffen next to me. Funny how in tuned I had become to his movements and moods. A fine twist indeed, I would have to watch myself, I thought wryly, though I have to admit I liked spoiling him. Marcus still managed to make my heartbeat race after six months.

It was a large party with us that night; loud and boisterous as usual. I had gathered several business associates and their escorts, as well as my personal friends and Marcus of course. I liked having him around when we went out. I usually had an entourage of assistants, associates and hangers-on, so it was never obvious that I was favoring him. Chad and Chester accompanied me most of the time anyway, and they were all just labeled ‘Christian’s party’.

I had taken Marcus to all the more exclusive and lush places when he first started hanging out with me and it had been great fun to see how his face lit up with pleasure at each new experience. He was such an innocent; an incredibly easy book to read. At first I thought I was doing it to impress him, like I had done so many times in the past. Until one day, I realized (much to my chagrin!) that I was not really out to impress him so much as to give him pleasure. A disturbing thought – it caused me at least one sleepless night.

Chad and Chester had stopped asking me why Marcus was different, and they had not even dared to bring up the topic of sharing. For once, I had no intention of sharing. I was far from tired of my boy, and frankly I bristled at the mere thought of anyone else touching Marcus.

I had my arm around a well-stacked buxom blond when we entered the restaurant. She was basking in the limelight as we made our way to our table, proudly acknowledging the turn of heads and whispers from the other diners. I, on the other hand, was covertly observing Marcus. I followed his eyes and saw him give a small nod of acknowledgement at another group; more specifically to a tall fair man with rather piercing eyes.

“Someone you know?” I whispered in Marcus’ ear as he brushed past me.

Marcus gave me a smile that was both mischievous and nervous. He didn’t reply but instead walked deliberately to the other side of the table, far enough away from me to prevent any further private exchanges. I followed him with my eye and once he had seated himself, smiled across the table at him once, and then pretty much left him alone. We would be having a more focused discussion later that night.

We were drinking champagne, celebrating the closure of a deal with a rather high level of noise and many toasts going around our table. I saw Chad exchange a few words with another man, and then rise and come to lean over my shoulder, saying into my ear, “The Fraternity’s here. That’s Stewart Spencer over there, with Philip Cullen.”

My head snapped up despite myself. I had heard of the Fraternity for some time but it had proven to be quite a challenge tracking them down. Besides knowing of the existence of the group and its rather peculiar membership, and the two men who led it, I had been unable to find out very much more. They were apparently very private, and very selective of their members.

I turned to where Chad was gesturing and was startled when I saw the tall man with the piercing eyes, the one whom Marcus had earlier acknowledged. Suddenly it hit me: Dr Spencer was Stewart Spencer.


We were just starting on our first course when a waiter came up and proffered an expensive bottle of Pinot Noir. “With compliments from Mr Lowen,” he said.

Phillip and I stared at one another in silence, and then I saw Phillip frown. He gestured to the waiter to come closer and gave him some quiet instructions while I continued conversing with the rest of our party. The waiter hesitated, and then turned to return to Lowen’s table, where he bent to speak into his ear.

Lowen listened and then gestured for the waiter to go away. After a moment, he slowly turned in his chair and looked over at us, a little smile on his face. He lifted his wine glass and raised it to us in a toast.

Phillip had also been watching him and we both returned the gesture.

“Isn’t that Christian Lowen?” one of our friends asked.

“Yes,” Phillip said, rather dryly, before turning to me and adroitly changing the subject. “Stewart, how many hours did you say you are you teaching now? I thought you were going to cut back? Instead I find you spending even more time in college.”

“Oh, the hours are the same but I am tutoring a couple of the kids …”

Which brought my mind back to Marcus and I stole a glance at him. He was sitting directly opposite to Christian Lowen, but I had caught him repeatedly stealing glances over to our table. I couldn’t imagine what a college kid was doing hanging out with such company. Especially one as naive as Marcus Fischer. Well, I didn’t really know Marcus, it was true. But I couldn’t be that wrong about him. You get to be a pretty good judge of young men when you spend so much time around them and the couple of sessions I had spent with Marcus had convinced me that he was a decent kid. Certainly not in the league of Mr Lowen.

We were finishing dinner, toying with our desserts and coffee when Phillip leaned over. “Haven’t we informed his runner that the membership is not open to him?”

I knew who he meant. Phillip had been dead set against someone of Christian Lowen’s ilk coming anywhere near us, much less join our Fraternity. “We have,” I replied.

“Well!” Phillip leaned back, shaking his head. “Maybe we need to make it a little clearer?”

“We could. But why are you so against him, Phil?” I asked. “What do you know of the man?”

Phillip moved closer. “I have done some research. Lowen is a user. He has a reputation for some, shall we say, rather unsavory dealings involving innocent young men. He seduces them, plucks them like pigeons, and then discards them to his minions when he grows tired of them. He is exactly what we are abhor – he destroys what we strive to protect!”

Phillip was seldom so adamant. I looked over at the group again, my eyes settling on Marcus. An uneasy feeling crept into my stomach.


I insisted Marcus stay over at my place after the dinner party. After I had satisfied myself with him, I held him in my arms and nuzzled his neck. I could feel the thump of his heart; I had let him come too and he lay in an exhausted heap against my shoulder.

“So tell me, who was that tall man you were looking at the entire night?”

Marcus squirmed. “I was not looking at him, or anyone else!”

“Come now,” I whispered softly against him, “no need to be shy. Who was he?”

After a slight hesitation, Marcus said, “That was my professor, Dr Spencer. The one I was supposed to go see this afternoon!”

“Ah! Dr Spencer. The one you have private sessions with.”

“Yes.” Marcus said, wary.

“Hmm. Is he a good teacher? He must be, if you like him so much.”

“I didn’t say I liked him.” Marcus sounded frustrated and I chuckled.

I decided to tease him a bit. “Why so defensive, Marcus? You are not having a secret crush on your professor, are you?”

Marcus struggled against my arm and managed to wrench himself free. “What are you saying, Christian?” he demanded. “He’s helping me pass my exams. That is all! There is nothing between us!”

“Okay, okay,” I said, sitting up also. I reached for a cigar. The situation was suddenly no longer very funny to me either. I had first heard about the Fraternity more than a year ago and started to make discreet inquiries but I had made no progress whatsoever in getting information about this elite group, much less gain entry. It looked like this was one club where they guarded their privacy extremely closely and no amount of money or influence could buy me any favors. All I had were the two names: Stewart Spencer and Phillip Cullen. Apart from this tidbit, I made no other headway. I couldn’t even get close to these two men who held the key to the Fraternity, they were repulsing all my efforts to establish contact.

And here was Marcus, having private tutorials with Stewart Spencer himself.


“Tell me what you know about this Dr Spencer?” I snarled.

“What?” Marcus turned to look at me in surprise. “Why?”

“Because I want to know!” I said sharply. “What is he like? What does he favor?”

“I don’t know!” Marcus said, bewildered.

“What does he talk to you about when you are alone?”

Marcus looked at me as if I was stupid. “School work? Assignments?”

“Does he touch you at all?” My tone was sharp. “Has he made any advances on you?” I was suddenly insanely jealous.

“No!” Marcus sounded scornful. “Stop it, Christian!”

I slowly ground out my cigar and then grabbed Marcus and pulled him over to me. I pinned him down, holding him still. “If I ever find out there is anything going on between the two of you …”

Marcus’ face contorted, with a mixture of anger and disgust and fear.

“When is your next session with the professor?” My tone was cold.

Marcus stared at me, unsure where this was leading. I had forbidden him to attend any more private sessions earlier, so he might have thought this was a trick question. I smacked his naked thigh smartly, and he yelped. “Ow!”

I glared at him and raised my hand again, and he quickly answered, “Its every Wednesday! But I already told you I am not going any more!”

I normally would not inflict physical punishments on my boys unless I had no choice. I had other means at my disposal. But I found the occasional swat rather effective in demanding obedience. I didn’t really have to be very strict with Marcus though. He was mostly well-behaved and biddable so I had never had to physically chastise him beyond a warning smack.

“I have changed my mind.” My hand slid to his thigh, where my handprint had landed. I rubbed the reddened skin gently. “You will attend those classes after all.”

“I don’t understand …”

I cut him off. “You don’t need to understand; just do exactly as I tell you …”


I was surprised when the knock sounded on my door the next Wednesday, and Marcus entered. Maybe not so much surprised as pleased. I had mentally given Marcus this one chance; if he skipped another class I would have cancelled the rest of the tutorials. There was really not much point in carrying on if there was no commitment on the student’s part.

“Hello Marcus.”

He smiled at me, a little sheepishly I thought. “Hi.”

“Ready to start?” I asked.

“Yeah …” He sat down and looked at the floor.

I found him distracted that day. He didn’t say much but I suspected we didn’t get much accomplished at the end of our session. When he stood up to go, I watched him more closely. “Is everything all right, Marcus?”

He flushed. “Yes, of course. Thanks for the time, Dr Spencer.”

He was almost out of the door when I remembered something. “Marcus, did you bring the book I loaned you? I promised to have it for another student.”

He looked stricken. “I’m sorry …. I …”

“No matter, just make sure you have it with you next week.”

“I c..can drop it off at your place?” Marcus suggested, his cheeks reddening.

“No, its fine …”

But he cut me off, coming back to the room, saying rather eagerly. “It’s ok, Dr Spencer … I can send it to you. Just give me your address.”

I paused, and then shrugged. I pulled out a slip of paper and wrote my address on it. “In case I am not in, just leave the book on the rattan chair right next to the flower pot on the front step. Hope this is not too far out of the way for you.”

“Not at all,” Marcus said, not even looking at the paper. With a hesitant wave of the hand, he turned and left.

I sat frowning for a few minutes. His behavior was odd. Nervous. Guilty. I had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about Marcus and Christian Lowen, and wondering what their relationship was. It was difficult to say based on that one meeting, and neither had shown any remarkable partiality for one another. Marcus had been like any other member of Lowen’s party that night, except that he was a college student instead of some yuppy executive. He didn’t have the polish or savvy to move in that circle! Not that it was any of my business, I told myself sternly, but I just couldn’t rid my head of what Phillip had said: he seduces them, plucks them like pigeons, and then discards them to his minions…

With that disturbing thought niggling at the back of my mind, I headed home. I was up for another couple of busy weeks and my mind began to grapple with the necessity of preparing for house guests as I stopped for groceries. By the time I pulled up to my house, it was almost six. There, sitting forlornly on the rattan chair on my porch steps, was Andrew.

I honked and waved him over. “Andrew, come help me with the groceries.”

Andrew got up and walked slowly to my car. He had a thick mop of red hair and freckles on his usually amiable face. But he wasn’t looking happy or particularly amiable at that moment. Not that I was surprised. I knew he didn’t relish being parked with me for the next two weeks.

I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek when he was close enough. “Come on, Andy, I’m sorry I was late coming back. Did you wait long?” I handed him a couple of grocery bags and took the rest myself. Together we walked up to the house.

“Ryan dropped me off on the way to the airport,” he informed me, his eyes downcast.

I knew what he was doing. Giving vague answers, drawing sympathy, looking lost and helpless – these were all Andrew-talents. I let his sentence go unanswered. We took the groceries to the kitchen and I sent him back out to collect his bag and back-pack. “Take them upstairs to the guest-room, please. You know where it is.”

“All right,” Andrew said quietly, his whole demeanor telling me how dejected and disappointed he was with what was happening.

I shook my head at him and called after him. “Put your things away neatly and then come right down. I don’t want you hiding in your room. We’ll be eating soon.”

I heard a faint ‘OK’ and smiled. Andrew was really a sweet kid. He was mostly very polite, even when throwing a tantrum and most people would not even be aware that he was in a fit of temper most of the time. He had a rare talent for drawing sympathy from unsuspecting souls and getting his own way, often twisting them so artfully around his finger that he would have them solicitously indulging and pampering him and practically eating out of his hands.

Which was how we had ended up together. He had been giving his partner, Ryan, the run around till finally Ryan had asked for help.

I started to put dinner together, throwing a couple of steaks on the grill and some potatoes as well. I was almost done with the salad when Andrew appeared. He observed my culinary activities for a while before he asked, “can I help, Stewart?”

“You can set the table, Andrew. And fill up the water glasses. These steaks should be done soon, you like yours well done, if I remember correctly!”

He looked over at the grill as he laid silver and glasses on the dining table. “Yes, thanks.” He eyed my salad with misgivings.

Andrew said thank you when I passed his plate to him, a steak sizzling nicely on one side while I piled the other side with the salad. He cut his steak and dug in enthusiastically, carefully leaving his salad untouched.

“So the rules remain the same,” I said after we had both taken a couple of bites. “You will stay here till Ryan comes back from London. You tell me if you are going to be late coming home from work. You tell me if you are going out, and with whom. And if I am not sure I will call or email Ryan to see if he is ok with that. So I will need sufficient warning.”

Andrew didn’t hide his scowl. “I am perfectly able to take care of myself this time!”

“I am sure you are; this is not about how capable you are to take care of yourself. This is about your Top wanting you not to be alone while he is away on business. You don’t want Ryan to worry do you?”

“No,” he said in a small voice, “but he knows this is unnecessary. I am fine at home. I don’t need a baby-sitter…”

I interrupted him. “Stop, Andrew. I am not your baby-sitter. Ryan is a fellow Top and my friend, and you are his partner. And I don’t want to debate this any more. Ryan has explained his reasons to you and we are going to accept that.”

“Sorry – didn’t mean to upset you,” Andrew said, his eyes troubled.

“Not upset,” I said brightly.

I tried to talk to him about other subjects, mostly about his work and how he was coping. He was not too enthusiastic. Andrew had moved out here to be with Ryan after a four-year courtship, leaving behind his family and friends. I didn’t blame Ryan for being extra cautious. Andrew had not coped too well during his first few months here, and he seemed to be struggling still.

“Where do you think you are going?” I asked Andrew as he stood up.

“I am done. Shall I do the dishes?”

“No, and you are not done.” I indicated the salad left on his plate. “Sit down please.”

“I really can’t eat any more, Stewart,” he said. Looking at me, he suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach. “Oh God, I am having cramps. I need to go.”


I ended up having to spank Andrew that night. I had hoped to have avoided it, at least on his first night with me. But I guess he needed it. That was my role in our Fraternity. Same like Phillip’s and the other Tops in our group. We took turns to give comfort and provide a safe haven to the Brats in our Fraternity when they needed it.

After Andrew had stopped crying, I asked him if he felt better.

“Yes.” He was sniffling softly.

“Good,” I said. And then I sat with him while he finished the salad.

Marcus & Stewart


Christian was driving me crazy. I just didn’t get it. From not wanting me to have anything to do with him, he now wanted me to spy on the guy. And his jealousy was driving me up the wall even more. Like Dr Spencer would ever look at me – a face amongst the hundreds of faces he sees every day, when he could have his pick of any of them. Frankly, I didn’t even know if he was really gay, though I had heard through the grapevine what his inclination was. Gay people had never really bothered me before; now of course … the thought of being held by my distinguished and extremely handsome professor was sending sudden chills up my spine.

Obeying Christian’s instructions, I made my way to Dr Spencer’s house the next day. It wasn’t such a hard chore actually; I had a secret wish to see where he lived. I drove to his neighborhood, a quiet street with tall elms along both sides of the road with broad walks and sloping lawns. An ordinary suburban cozy little neighborhood. It was a stark comparison to Christian’s high-end posh and exclusive luxury but this was kinda nice too.

I found the address without difficulty. I had the book with me on the seat next to mine and was fingering it, wondering if I should just leave the book on the rattan chair and then leave or boldly knock on the door. Christian didn’t have to know the details; I could say he wasn’t in. I didn’t want to have to give Christian any more information than I could help – honestly it felt like such an invasion of privacy. In fact, I felt horrible.

I was sitting in my car, the engine idling, when the front door opened. My heart jumped, half afraid he would see me. Instead, a bright-faced young man with red hair came out, dressed in shorts and runners. He walked past me without a second glance, and then broke into an easy trot down the road.

I stared after him in surprise; it had never crossed my mind that Dr Spencer could be living with someone. Well, and why not, I asked myself. It also took the speculation out of whether or not he was gay. Rather obvious, I thought. Did my dashing professor look like the kind of man who would not have a boyfriend? A partner ? Someone special to share his life with? Of course not!

I killed the engine and with a sigh made my way to the front door. I rang the bell before I could chicken out and stood waiting, with my chest a little tight.

“Marcus?” Dr Spencer sounded cheerful as he held the open. “Come on in,” he invited.

I stepped in and looked around. “I – I came to return the book …”

“Thanks.” He held out his hand for it and beckoned. “Come into the kitchen. I was just making a cup of tea, would you like one? Or would you prefer coffee?”

“Um … tea will be fine, thanks.”

I peered into the living room as we went past, and came to the kitchen. It had a nice warm feeling to it, like what I would expect from back home with Mom at the stove and the kids sitting around the table eating freshly baked cookies. It suddenly made me homesick. Life lately had been so far removed from what I usually thought of as home and normal life. My kind of life. I swallowed the lump that had risen to my throat and sat down at the kitchen table.

I observed Dr Spencer’s movements as he made tea. From where I sat I could look into the backyard, and caught a glimpse of the dining area. Overall, I could see he had very nice taste; the décor was simple and understated, the house was immaculate and neat.

He asked me where I stayed, and I hesitated a moment before I told him my address. I still kept my old place, but I spent rather a lot of time at Christian’s. He chatted easily with me, about sports and what I liked and we sat at the kitchen table, eating peanut butter cookies and drinking tea.

I didn’t realize I had stayed for so long till I heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps.

“That must be Andrew,” Dr Spencer said.

I blushed. It felt weird. I guess I was a bit embarrassed, to meet my lecturer’s boyfriend. I stood up and said, “Well, I really should be going. Didn’t mean to stay so long …”

Just then Andrew came in. He was panting still and just looked at me but didn’t express much surprise.

Dr Spencer did the introductions. “Andrew, this is Marcus, one of my students at the university. Marcus, Andrew is a good friend of mine; he’s staying here for a couple of weeks.”

That didn’t make much sense to me, but I felt it would not have been polite to pry. “Nice to meet you,” I said instead.

“Hi,” Andrew came over to shake hands. “Are you coming to stay too? I haven’t seen you around - whose Brat are you?”

I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Dr Spencer frowned at Andrew but I could tell he was hiding a smile. “Andrew,” he remonstrated gently. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and take a shower. Go on now.”

Andrew turned and obeyed the instructions, unquestioningly and without a murmur. I stared for a minute before my eyes flickered up to Dr Spencer’s face and saw that he was smiling at me. “Thank you for coming by with the book, Marcus.”

“That’s all right,” I stammered.

He walked me to the front door and stood waiting till I had got into my car. As I drove away, I kept looking at him through my rear mirror, suddenly feeling terribly lonely.


Phillip was already seated when I entered the restaurant.

“You’re late,” he said without heat.

I grinned. “I know I am, sorry! I had Andrew to deal with; I think he is coming down with the flu or something. If he does not improve this afternoon, I should get him to the doctor’s.”

“And how is that going?” Phillip asked as he signaled to the waiter.

“Better this time round. He doesn’t do changes well, and it helps to have been with me before.”

“I’m sure. Still, he should have settled by now. You shouldn’t have to take him again so soon.”

“That’s fine. I love Andrew; he is a lamb if you know how to handle him.”

“And doesn’t that apply to all of them?” Phillip said sardonically, lifting an eyebrow. “What’ll you have? He asked as the waiter approached.

We ordered and then resumed our conversation.

“You know, Ryan needs to also be a little more forthright, firmer.” Phillip said. “I may have to have a word with him when he is back in town.”

Tops were more Phillip’s line up, while I dealt mostly with the Brats. That was how it had worked from the beginning and while the roles were interchangeable, that was always the preferred arrangement. If a Top needed Top advice, they usually called Phillip first. If a Top struggled with a Brat, they called me first.

“My feeling is that Ryan feels guilty for uprooting Andrew, and now he is over compensating.” I offered. “Andrew is probably aware of it as well and taking full advantage of that. He is a very accomplished Brat, if you care to think about it.”

Phillip tutted. “Definitely a chat with Ryan is due then. Have you heard anything from Lowen’s people lately?” He asked, suddenly changing subjects.

“Lowen?” I frowned. “No, have you?”

“He’s sent in another application to join, which I rejected on both our behalves. Thought you should know. What’s this I hear about you tutoring his protégé?”

Marveling at Phillip’s information sources, I replied coolly. “Marcus? Yes, he is in one of my classes at the university.”

“Private sessions too?”

I raised an eyebrow. “He comes to me on Wednesdays because he had been falling behind. I am helping him; I do that sometimes.”

“Lowen’s boy?”

Somehow I hated the sound of that. I asked, “Do you know that for a fact?”


“That he is Lowen’s boy!” I couldn’t help spitting that last bit out like it tasted foul in my mouth. Which it did.

Phillip shrugged. “Possible, probable in fact. The kids been with that crowd for a few months at least, from what I hear. He has the perfect profile – cute, young, naïve and impressionable. But then again, I could be wrong. I wouldn’t trust anything I hear about them. Much too dicey for my taste.”

“Hm,” I said, beginning to feel rather unhappy.

“Why the Friday face?” Phillip asked serenely.

There was no hiding much of anything from Phillip. He would worm it out of me eventually, and besides, I wanted his help. “What can you find out about Marcus?”

“Why the interest?” he countered.

“I would hate the thought of Lowen feeding him to the dogs.”

Phillip looked unconvinced. “He made the choice himself, I don’t believe he was forced into it in any way.”

“He’s a college kid!” I protested.

“And almost certainly not the first one to fall prey. Why the interest?” he asked again, more pointedly.

“I don’t know,” I finally replied, not quite sure of my own motives. “He is really rather engaging, and I guess I like him.”

Phillip regarded me appraisingly but didn’t say anything. Our food arrived and we ate for a while in silence.

“I would tread carefully, Stewart. Lowen can be a dangerous man to cross and we don’t know what his intentions are with the kid.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” I protested. “I am his lecturer; I just feel I have some level of responsibility …”

Phillip looked at me. “And what else did I mean?”

I glared at him. I started to give him a sharp retort, and then shut my mouth. Honestly, I wasn’t too sure myself.


It was a week night and I really didn’t want to be at the party. Final exams were looming and I was way behind. I knew I needed to hit the books.

I tried one more time to tell Christian. “Can I not come, Christian? Please?”

His eyes were steely; he looked displeased. “And I said I want you here.”


“I need to study tonight! In fact I need to study this whole week. I’m falling more and more behind ...” Just the thought made me desperate. “Look, I promise I won’t go anywhere. I will be at home, I won’t leave the flat at all.”

Christian spun me around and landed a heavy smack on my bottom. “Quiet! No more arguments. One night away from your books is not going to kill you.”

“You are impossible!” I almost shouted at him, rubbing at the smart on my bum. “Why can’t you understand?”

Christian grabbed me by the arm and shook me. “And why can’t YOU understand?” he demanded coldly. When he got like that, I usually subsided. I had given in to him time and again, always letting him have his way. But not this time. This was important to me and I was frustrated like hell that he would treat this so callously. He was being unreasonable, and my temper was beginning to snap.

“You can’t make me!” I said, the first challenge I had ever issued to Christian. In fact, the first act of defiance I had ever displayed to him.

Christian’s eyes blazed with fury. Pulling me over to the sofa, he sat down and pulled me over his lap. Trapping my knees in between his legs, he kept me in place as he landed his palm on my backside, smack after smack.

I gripped my mouth shut, refusing to cry out or yelp with the pain. He was a well-built man who worked out often; he had a strong arm and he was not holding back. This was not the first time Christian had spanked me. He had swatted me before, sometimes even on the bare. But mostly quick swats; this was the first time he had spanked me so hard and so long. I could only be thankful it was with my pants on.

Finally he stopped, pushing me onto my knees in front of him. He put his arms around me and hugged me tightly, and then held me away, looking into my face. I turned away, refusing to look at him.

“Look here!” he commanded. When I didn’t comply, he held my chin and tilted it back. Our eyes locked, mine probably shining with unshed tears. I felt so ill-treated. Where was the kind and gentle Christian who used to coddle me and made me feel like a million bucks?

The anger was quite gone from Christian’s eyes. Instead, he looked calm and even faintly amused and to my surprise, he suddenly laughed. “Do you know how your eyes sparkle when you are angry, Marcus?”

“Let me go!”

He wouldn’t let me get up, holding me easily. I cursed and Christian laughed again. “What?” he asked, reaching behind me to pat my heated backside. “Still defiant?”

“You hurt me! You had no right!” I blurted out.

“Didn’t you enjoy that?”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

Christian pursed his lips. “Some people get off with being spanked,” he informed me, as if that was the most normal thing to say.

“Well, I am not one of them!” I spat.

“Ho! Don’t tell me you didn’t find it thrilling!”

“You are – sick!”

“I’m sick?” Christian’s eyes gleamed with sudden fury. “You think I am sick? Ha! You should talk to that fine professor of yours!”

“What?” My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“What an innocent you are. Are you pretending again, or do you really not know?” Christian’s eyes watched me closely. “Your Dr Spencer is an expert on this subject!”

I stared at Christian in shock, and then twisted to get free.

He smacked me again and this time I yelped. His eyes narrowed and he said, “I should paddle you, and perhaps one of these days I will!”

Somehow, I didn’t think that was an idle threat.

“Obedience, Marcus! Now will you be good and do as you are told?” Christian asked in a much too cold voice.

Slowly, swallowing my tears, I nodded my head.

“Good boy,” Christian said, as he leaned down to kiss me. “You will learn that the best thing for you to do is to obey me. That’s all I ask of you. Now go get ready for the party. I want you to look nice for me. Wear that new shirt I got you, with the leather pants. You look so damn hot in them.”

I silently got up. I had put those items at home, in my own flat, and I would need to go home to get changed. I quietly let myself out and got into my car, my hands trembling. Then, instead of driving home, I drove straight to Dr Spencer’s house.


I knew something was wrong the minute I set eyes on Marcus.

“Marcus? Come in!” I said, and led him into the living room.

He sat down and I waited for him to speak but he just sat there, staring at the carpet.

I automatically switched to Top mode. “Marcus, I’m going to go get you a drink, just sit there for a while and wait for me. Okay?”

He gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement and I quickly went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Soon I had two cups of steaming lemon tea. I handed one to Marcus. “Here, careful, it’s hot.”

I could see his hand shaking as he held the mug. “Try to drink some, Marcus.”

He blew on it and sipped it cautiously. After a while, he seemed to calm down. He placed the mug on the side table and glanced at me. “I’m sorry for – bursting in on you like this,” he apologized softly.

“That’s all right. What can I help you with, Marcus?”

He remained silent.

“Tell me what happened? I can see something has upset you.”

“Can I talk to you about something – personal?”

“Of course,” I replied without hesitation.

He drew a long breath before he spoke. “Remember that night I saw you at the restaurant?”


“I was with these people, in particular this one person …”

“Go on,” I encouraged him, wondering where this was headed.

“His name is Christian Lowen.” He looked at me searchingly, waiting for a reaction.

I nodded. “I know who he is – who doesn’t? He has quite a reputation ...” I let the sentence hang, also waiting for a reaction.

He flushed and averted his eyes. He fell silent.

“So what is your relationship with Christian Lowen?” I prodded.

“He’s … he is … “Marcus choked on the words.

“Its okay, Marcus,” I said, moving forward to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

He shook his head, looking embarrassed.

I said very softly. “I won’t judge or censure. I just want to help.”

I watched with deep sympathy as Marcus struggled. How much did he trust me? How well did he know me in the first place? Why would he trust me at all?

But he had come to me; that had to count. I am sure he had other friends, college kids his age, older friends he could go to for advice. Relatives even, maybe the occasional uncle or cousin. But he had chosen to come to talk to me and that was a very positive sign.

“Can you trust me, Marcus?” I asked.

He looked at me, his face twisted. “I – need to ask you something. Oh God, I am so confused!” His head dropped into his hands in a gesture of despair.

“Marcus!” I called him, a little more sharply this time. “Look at me. Now tell me, what is your relationship with Lowen?”

“He is my – boyfriend.” He whispered, barely able to raise his eyes. “We are lovers … does that disgust you?”

I let go of a breath. “No, Marcus. I am not disgusted with you. I don’t applaud your choice of a partner, but I don’t think any less of you than I did before. Your being gay is of no consequence.”

He nodded and I could see he was immediately less jittery. Getting over the first hurdle could sometimes be the hardest. Once he had let his defenses down, taken that first step, he should find it easier to let go and be more open.

“What happened today?” I asked, as nothing more was forthcoming.

“We had a fight, and he – he hit me!”

“What?” I said sharply. “Are you hurt?” I looked Marcus over quickly, unable to detect any sign of injury. “Where did he hit you?”

Marcus blushed red. “He spanked me,” he whispered. “On my butt, like a little boy!”

“Oh,” I said, momentarily taken aback. “Why did he do that?”

“We had an argument, like I told you, and he didn’t like me opposing him.” His teeth ground together and he spat out the words, “So he – put me over his knee …. and …”

“I see.” I had to tread carefully; he was obviously traumatized and would be in no mood to understand. “Well, is this something you engage in …?”

Marcus turned to me and asked in a harsh whisper. “Is this what some people do?”

“Marcus,” I started to say, “Calm down. Finish your tea and …”

“Fuck the tea. Is this what YOU do?” He flung the words at me.

Christian & Stewart


“Where is he?” I snarled as I barged into the room. Chester was face down on the bed, with Chad deep inside him.

They both looked startled and Chad cursed, breaking the momentum of his movements. “Dammit Christian! Jesus, can’t this wait?”

“Have you found him?” I ignored Chad’s question and hardly took in the two entwined bodies. I had seen them fuck too often to take much notice.

With a grunt, Chad slid out of Chester and began to clean himself with a tissue. Chester rolled onto his back and began to slowly stroke himself.

“He’s not been home, and we have no idea where to look.” Chad threw the tissue into the waste basket and pulled his boxers on. “He doesn’t mix around much.”

I sat down on the bed, next to Chester. “Classes? He has to attend classes.”

“It’s a long shot, but I’ll see if I can plant someone there … he knows that will be the first place you will look.” Chad replied, rather sourly. “He’ll be sure to stay away if he does not want you to find him.”

“He won’t miss his precious classes!” I scowled, remembering Marcus’ obsession with his studies. “I think he said he had exams coming up; he won’t miss those!”

Chad took a few turns about the room, and then came to stand in front of me. He looked troubled. “Christian …”

“What?” I snapped.

“Have you thought this through? He’s just a kid …”

“He’s not just a kid!” I said angrily. “He is MY boy!”

“Well, whatever … You’ve had boys before … what’s so special about him?”

He didn’t understand; no one understood. There was something about Marcus that had always been special. “Just bring him to me!” I growled.

Chad clutched his hair in frustration. “Say we find him. Then what? If he does not want to come with us, we can’t force him.”

“Why not?”

“That’s abduction!” Chad exploded. “Ever heard of kidnapping? It’s a felony, for chrissake. We could go to jail for it!”

I looked away, not interested to listen further.

“If word gets out … look, people are bound to talk, and if they know you are doing this …” Chad trailed off. “Its too risky for someone in your position.”

“I’m just looking for what’s mine.” I stated calmly.

“Is he worth it?” Chad asked softly, as Chester began to moan. We both looked down at him; he looked like he was about to shoot.

I stood up and swiftly made for the door, in no mood to witness Chester’s orgasm. “Just find him!” I snapped, before I flung out of the room, slamming the door.


“I’ve got a – situation,” I said into the telephone, and then went on to explain to Phillip what had happened.

I listened to a long tirade before Phil allowed me to respond. And when I did, it was not what he wanted to hear.

“What is happening now,” I explained tiredly, “is that Marcus is afraid to return to his apartment and I have offered to let him stay here a few days. Temporarily, till the dust settles.”

As expected, Phil exploded.

I’ve known Phillip for over fifteen years; we grew up together more or less, same school, same neighborhood. Discovered we were gay and came out together. We founded the Fraternity together too. But there was never a time he could make me do something I didn’t want to, or change my mind when it had been made up. I didn’t intend for that to change now.

“Phil,” I said firmly. “This is what’s best. And it’s done, so let’s figure out how to move forward.”

There was a pause and when he next spoke, Phillip was once again his usual composed and objective self. “Does he know about The Fraternity and Christian’s interest in it?” Philip asked.“No, and I haven’t told him.” I said.

“Have you considered the possibility that this could be a ruse? To find a way in, find a chink in our link, a weakness?”

“Yes, though I think that highly improbable. Still, I intend to be watchful and will be careful.” I didn’t blame Phillip; I would be concerned too if I were in his shoes.

“Are you sure the boy has nowhere else to go?” He sounded disbelieving.

“He came to me, Phil,” I said as patiently as I could. “And I am not going to turn him away. If you could see him, you would understand.”

“Its not that I doubt you or your judgment, Stewart,” Phillip said and I smiled. “God knows there is no one else better able to handle these unpredictable young ones …”

“Don’t worry, Phil. I’ll get this sorted out. I just wanted to update you and let you know Marcus will be with me for a few days. He says he’s done with Christian but I would not put too much faith on that declaration. At least not right now.”

Phillip snorted rudely. “Me neither. I’ll come by tomorrow – have dinner with you guys.”

“I thought you said you trusted my judgment?”

“Of course I do.” He replied at once. “What’s dinner got to do with anything?”

“Yeah!” I laughed and hung up.


I had been furious when Marcus did not return for the party. Then livid when he didn’t pick up my calls, and finally concerned when he couldn’t be found. I feared he might have been in some accident. Or mugged, or something – God knows this city was crawling with lunatics who would do anything for a quick buck.

Whatever had prevented him from showing up must have been something important, I told myself. He wouldn’t just not come; he wouldn’t dare. Even if he had been in a fit of temper when he left, he should have cooled down by now. There was no reason for him to stay away for so long. Where the fuck was he? Why was he nowhere to be found?

Maybe he got called home urgently, I thought. Hm, family emergency perhaps? But he could have called to let me know if that was the case. It’s been a week since he disappeared. What family emergency could be so great that he could not pick up his phone and make a call?

Maybe he fell, knocked his head, and was in some hospital somewhere, with amnesia. You saw that in the movies all the time.

Yeah …

The thoughts swirled in my head. All these possibilities and none of them seemed even remotely convincing.

My heart leaped as I caught a glimpse of a silhouette in the bathroom – then realized it was just the new boy Chad and Chester had brought to me the night before. He appeared, standing in the doorway, aware of the effect the light from the bathroom would have on his naked body. He had obviously just finished taking a shower and he stood toweling his wet hair, his buttocks taught and his muscles rippling under wet skin, glimmering with water droplets.

I eyed him coldly; suddenly angry that he had tricked me for a moment into believing it was Marcus I had seen. I beckoned to him and he walked confidently forward, letting the towel drop onto the floor. He stopped at the side of the bed, where I was sitting, with my back against the bed head.

His cock began to rise as I threw the sheet off, opening my legs wider. He grinned and slowly climbed onto the bed, in between my thighs. He fluttered his eye lashes at me and licked his lips seductively and I reacted with irritation. I slapped him on the side of his thighs and again on his buttocks when he tried to shy away. Both times very hard.

Marcus never tried such tricks on me.

“Suck me!” I ordered, ignoring his sudden gasp of pain.

He immediately dropped his head, opening his mouth to obey. I watched his head bob up and down as he swallowed me. He was obviously very experienced and I closed my eyes and waited for my cock to harden – which it did within minutes.

I didn’t bother to use any lube; his saliva would be all he would get. I entered him roughly, pleased to hear his cries of pain, pleased that I wasn’t the only one suffering.


I was just about to leave the house when Marcus’ call came through.

“Hi Ma-“I got cut off.

“Dr Spencer!” Marcus sounded panicked.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He was breathing hard.

“What happened? Where are you Marcus?” My voice had sharpened.

“On my way to your house,” he said and hung up.

I made a few calls to push out my appointments as I waited for Marcus to show. He sounded scared enough to convince me something was wrong. I didn’t have long to wait; the screech of tires reached my ears and I went out to greet him.

Marcus drove right up to the garage, signaling that he wanted to park inside. Marcus had stayed with me for almost a week and I had let him park inside the garage – to ‘hide’ his car from view. He obviously wanted the same arrangement.

His face was pale as he came into the kitchen, after making sure the garage door was let down and his car well out of sight. He flopped into a chair and groaned.

“I saw them, waiting for me,” he said hoarsely.

I had put the kettle on earlier and now began to make some tea; it looked like we were going to need it. During the week when Marcus had stayed with me, we had drunk endless cups of tea, talking and discussing plans. He had been confused, hurt and scared. Scarred as well. I had done my best to explain to him the nature of a discipline partnership, and to convince him that what Christian had with him was definitely not one.

Bringing my mind back to the present, I placed a cup in front of him and asked. “Christian’s men?”

He nodded, his eyes misty. “He is never going to let me get away.”

“What happened?” I sat down at the table with him and pushed the cup towards him, signaling for him to drink. He picked up the cup and obediently took a small sip. I had noticed since getting to know Marcus well that he was mostly pliable and took instructions well; he exhibited strong classic Brat signals and yet he was appalled by the idea of submitting to discipline.

“I went back to classes today, as we discussed.”

I nodded. We had decided that he should resume his schedule so that he could try to make it for the finals, though privately I thought that was a long shot. Still I wanted him to return to some normalcy, try to go back to his life. His life before his entanglement with Christian Lowen.

“I saw him – hanging around the lecture halls. He looked suspicious.”

“Christian?” I drew my brows together.

“No, of course not. Someone I didn’t know, but he looked suspicious!”

“It could have been just anyone … “ I started to say.

“No!” Marcus insisted. “I could tell. I stayed hidden and followed him, and I was right. Chad and Chester were waiting in the car.”

I had heard about these two cohorts of Christian’s – his faithful followers. They did his dirty work for him, and in return he took good care of them. Even sharing their boys. The bastards!

“So what happened next?”

“I think they saw me – so I ran.”

“Marcus,” I said as evenly as I could, “you can’t keep running from them. They can’t force you to go with them – especially if you are in a public place. Remember what we talked about – keep to open places and be with friends. They can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Marcus clutched his hair.

That had been one of the hardest things to get across to Marcus – that he could make a decision, that he could have a choice. He didn’t need to submit to Christian if he didn’t want to and he didn’t have to run away from him. Six months with the man and Lowen had robbed a promising young man of his self confidence and self-reliance.

“You don’t know Christian.” Marcus muttered.

I looked at Marcus, who was starting to fall apart the first day I let him go. And for whatever reasons I had hidden or otherwise, my heart ached for him. “Okay, what do you want to do now?” I wanted to see if he could articulate that.

“I want to … stay here.”


“So he did return to classes!” I said with grudging satisfaction. “He would,” I said with a sneer.

Chad looked at me. “He was too quick, ran the moment he spotted us. We tried to tail him but the traffic …”

I cast him a look of disgust. “You are a bunch of ass-holes!” Chad grimaced but did not say anything. “Do you have any idea at all where he went? Did you see where he was headed?”

Chester shrugged. “It’s a big campus and he is more used to it than we are.”

“No matter – at least we know he is still around then. We’ll get him, eventually.”

Chad and Chester exchanged a look, which I caught. “What?” I said.

“We – ah, got a nice surprise for you tonight.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A really nice piece, I think you will like this one.” Chad said, with a sly smirk.

“Oh yeah,” Chester agreed, smiling broadly. “Not too tall, great butt, and very very shy. Just the way you like ‘em. And the best part of all, he’s straight so far but willing to try anything – for a price.”

My ears had pricked up. “Virgin?”

“Oh yeah – definitely untouched there.” Chester laughed.

“And we thought – since it’s been a while since we had some fun,” Chad continued, with a meaningful glare at me, and getting excited at the same time, “what do you say to a good old-fashioned foursome fuck tonight?”

The thought held sudden appeal to me. I recalled the memory of Marcus writhing under me, when I had taken him for the first time. How he had choked back the pain, so keen to please me, so willing to give me pleasure.

I could see Chad and Chester were raring to go, eager with the plans they had made. They had bitched about Marcus long enough; and I guess they were glad to see the last of him. I couldn’t really blame them – I would play along with them for now. I would take this fresh piece they proffered and I would pass him to them when I was done. I was more than willing to share – anyone except Marcus.

I can be patient.

Plus there was no reason in the world not to enjoy myself a little while waiting.

Stewart & Marcus


In the end, I gave in and we went back to his place and packed a bag. Marcus insisted on staying hidden once we came back to my place, jumping at every sound, sure Christian would find him and drag him back. I had him help prepare dinner with Andrew, and pondered on how to break the news to Philip.

Having two jumpy young men together wasn’t the best combination by any stretch of the imagination. After dinner, I left Marcus downstairs watching TV and went up to Andrew’s room. He needed handling.

He was sitting on the bed, his eyes red and unhappy. I took the straight back chair from the writing desk and swung it around, then straddled it. I sat down facing Andrew, folding my arms on top of the straight back.

“I’m sorry Ryan got delayed,” I said, coming straight to the point. “I know you are disappointed.”

“I am,” Andrew murmured. “And now you have another Brat staying with you. I thought he was gone. Why did he come back? I will be in your way and I hate that.”

I looked at Andrew sternly. “Andrew, how many times have I told you Marcus is not a Brat? Not in the way you are a Brat to Ryan or to me. And you are not in the way so there is no reason for you to feel bad.”

A mulish look came into Andrew’s eyes and he lowered his lashes, saying quickly, “But he is … don’t you see it? I can tell …”

I shook my head at him. “I don’t think we are here to talk about Marcus, are we?”

Andrew remained silent, his eyes on the carpet, probably disappointed that he could not turn the conversation away from its intended topic.

“So what do you think we should be talking about, Andrew?”

“I don’t know …” He shrugged, “perhaps … um … m-my outburst?” Before I could answer, he continued. “I was looking forward to Ryan coming home this weekend. He said he would be gone for two weeks only!”

“I understand you are disappointed, Andrew,” I repeated. “But does that excuse your behavior just now?”

“But he broke his promise to me!”

“Was it really a promise, Andrew?”

Andrew’s head tipped further down, till his chin almost touched his chest. He was the picture of dejection; a less resolute Top would find it difficult to discipline a Brat like that. I could see how Ryan would struggle with him.

“You had eyes only for Marcus,” Andrew muttered.

“That. Is. Not. True.” I said slowly.

“Well, I felt ignored.”

“I am sorry you felt ignored; that was not my intention. Now listen to me. My rules are very clear. There will be no tantrums, for whatever reasons. I believe Ryan has that same rule too?”

“Yes?” Andrew peeped up at me. “Ryan is very patient and kind. He understands that sometimes I need to let my emotions out … b-because I am still adjusting … he listens to me when I try to explain to him …”

I cut him off brusquely. “No, Andrew. No excuses. Misbehaving because you are unhappy about a situation is simply not acceptable. Every time you throw a tantrum, you will be punished. That is the rule, clear and simple. Did we not make that clear?”

“You did.”

Those wide puppy eyes almost made me break my resolve. I looked at him for a moment longer, weighing my options. With Marcus downstairs, these were limited. “All right then, you can spend the rest of the evening in here writing lines. Fetch the writing pad, please.”

“You are not going to – spank me?”

“No, Andrew,” I said. “Just lines this time.”

“Okay,” Andrew shrugged, as he went to retrieve the writing material.

“You can write 500 lines for me – ‘Every time I throw a tantrum I will be punished’. Got it?” I got up and placed a light kiss on Andrew’s head. “Write it neatly, and number it as well. I will come check on you in half an hour.”

I re-joined Marcus in the living room.


I smiled at Dr Spencer when he came and sat down beside me. He looked really nice, in his beige slacks and a casual t-shirt. But best of all were his eyes, when he looked at you. They seemed to pierce into your soul, making you feel as if everything would be all right.

“How is Andrew?” I asked. “Is he still feeling unwell?” Andrew had complained of stomach cramps throughout dinner, and Dr Spencer had sent him up to his room to rest.

“He’s fine.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I caught a glimmer of humor in Dr Spencer’s eyes.

“Is he upset about Ryan not coming home this weekend? He wasn’t very happy when he got the call, I noticed.” And then I thought of something that had been at the back of my mind for a while now. “Why does Andrew have to stay with you when Ryan is away?”

Dr Spencer replied easily, “Andrew just moved out here a few months ago as you know, so he doesn’t have many friends. Ryan thought it would be better for him to be with someone he knows, in case he feels lonely.”

“You’re not related are you?” I inquired curiously. They seemed rather close; I had seen Andrew hug Dr Spencer openly a few times, or Dr Spencer muttering stuff in Andrew’s ear – something private that they didn’t want me to hear. I felt an unexpected surge of exclusion and jealousy.

“We are friends. Close friends.” Dr Spencer didn’t want to elaborate and out of politeness I kept silent.

We watched TV for a while, then my mind got diverted and I blurted out. “Dr Spencer?”

“Yes Marcus?” There were those eyes again, smiling into mine. My heart jumped.

“I cant finish college or graduate this year.”

He didn’t say anything so I pushed on.

“I – I can’t go back to finish the semester or ... or to take the finals. There is no way I can do it, with the thought that Christian could appear any time. He knows where I live; he would send his people to get me if I went back.”

Dr Spencer seemed to consider my words, his face unreadable.

“I don’t know w-what to do …” I keenly felt the helplessness of my situation. “If only I can get away for a while – maybe find a summer job somewhere else? Do you know of someone who might need to hire help for the summer? I – I think if I can get away for a while, this thing with Christian might just blow over?”

“Is that really what you want to do, Marcus? Get away for the summer?” Dr Spencer asked, studying me seriously.

“Yes!” I replied emphatically.

“What about your parents? Can’t you go back to them for a while?”

I shuddered. “My dad doesn’t know what is going on in my life. If he did – he will probably kill me.” And I was serious! He was bound to ask questions if I went home early or stayed through the summer.

“Relatives or friends?” Dr Spencer asked.

I shook my head. “Can’t think of any.” I suddenly realized how destitute I sounded. I had no one I could turn to for help. Now that really sucked. “I am so pathetic!” I said, which was not too far from the truth.

Dr Spencer frowned a little, and his eyes narrowed, but not like he was mad but more in the way as if he was thinking of something.

“Do you have a – any suggestions?” I asked hopefully.

He ignored my question. Instead he asked one of his own. “And what are you planning to do about your degree? You’re so close to graduating, it would be a waste to give it up now.”

“Um … Can’t I apply for a leave of absence? Can the university grant me a repeat?”

“If they could, would you come back when term starts so that you can finish your degree?”

“Yes, I suppose …” I said uncertainly.

Dr Spencer looked sternly at me. “Marcus, yes or no? I want a firm answer.”

My stomach fluttered. Dr Spencer made me feel that way when he had that look in his eyes. I squirmed in my seat. “Yes.” I said as firmly as I could.

His eyes pinned me to the seat. “I will hold you to your word then.”

“Okay,” I said, a bit timidly. Jeez, that man could be so … intimidating. Maybe this was part of what Dr Spencer had explained to me earlier when we talked about discipline partnerships. He said there were some couples who practiced this in their relationships. Where one partner made the decisions and had the authority to rule the other partner; more importantly where the junior partner GAVE the authority to the senior partner.

Dr Spencer had stressed that the kinds of things Christian did – the rules and the control, the mind games, the spankings and the sex – were not in the true make-up of a discipline partnership. Far from it, he said.

We had talked some more during the week I spent with Dr Spencer, but I was still not very clear what DPs were about and how one could actually work. I suspected though that Andrew was what would be termed the junior partner – and that Ryan was his Top (that was the term Dr Spencer used). But why Ryan would place his junior partner with Dr Spencer I had no idea. And I did not dare to ask.

I gazed at Dr Spencer expectantly.

“Give me a few days to work on this,” Dr Spencer finally said. “No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

I almost jumped into Dr Spencer’s arms when he said that. “Really? You can help me?”

He grinned at me. “I said I will TRY to work something out.”

But I knew better. He would find a solution. I had absolute faith in Dr Spencer.


I stood at the end of the bed, looking down at Marcus sleeping. He was on his side, a hand under his face, the other loose and relaxed on his chest. It was a protective posture, coiled and uninviting. I wondered if he always slept like that out of habit or was it a manifestation of his current state of mind.

At least, he looked peaceful now. I remembered the blaze of relief that had spread over his face when I had said I would help him. Remembering the trust reflected in his face, I was determined not to disappoint him.

After checking in on Andrew, who was soundly asleep as well - tired from his tantrum and his lines - I went into my study, firmly closed the door and skyped Philip.

“Don’t tell me …” he said in his lazy drawl.


“The Brat’s back!”

“You are as bad as Andrew,” I complained.

“Am I wrong?” His eyebrows rose.

“Well,” I said carefully, “first of all, he is not a Brat.”

“Technicality. So?”

“So - No you are not wrong, and Yes he is back.” I saw Philip’s smile before I head his snort.

I sighed. Philip had said this would have far reaching consequences. But that was not the point of the call. I needed to bounce an idea off him.

“Phil, Marcus needs to get away for the summer.”

“To get away from Christian’s tentacles, no doubt.”


There was a pause before Philip asked incredulously. “Are you suggesting we send him to Willcott, to Aimes? For the summer?”

“Yes, I think that might be a good idea.”

This time, Philip groaned.

Willcott was a small village about 300 kilometers up north. We had a place there – a somewhat rambling farmhouse - next to a large fishing pond, something that had been set up a few years ago by the Fraternity. Each year, during the summer months, we opened the house for members who wished to spend time away from the city. Most went for a short stint, to grab a few weeks of vacation time, as an easy, no-fuss get-away. It was actually very beautiful up there; with plenty of woodlands and good fishing ground during the warm months, and great walks and gentle snowfall during winter. In summer, we usually organized some great barbeques and campfires as well.

Over time, the Fraternity began to make more practical use of the place, besides just for relaxation. Since a large group had gathered, a couple of group meetings were conveniently held one summer. The following year, more sharing sessions were organized. Someone came up with a workshop one time, for the benefit of new Brats. Tops and Brats converged there, finding the social freedom alluring.

Over time, it had evolved into a retreat for our Fraternity. An annual affair we all looked forward to. Once my classes were done for the summer, I had time on my hands so I usually made it a habit to spend at least a few weeks at Willcott. If Marcus ever needed a place to disappear, that was an ideal location. Only Fraternity members knew of its existence and only Fraternity members were allowed to visit.

“Marcus is not a Fraternity member,” Philip commented dryly.

“I know.” I chewed my lip. “That’s what I wanted to consult you about.”

“Stewart, you can’t be serious!”

I rolled my eyes at Philip. “Of course I am serious,” I said. “I haven’t told him about it so it’s still up for discussion; don’t feel you are forced into a corner Phil. But I think Willcott will do him a world of good. Besides, Aimes will appreciate the extra help this summer – I believe we will be quite busy this year.”

Philip did not look thrilled. “This is not about Aimes! You aren’t bending the rules, Stewart, you are breaking it!”

“Nonsense,” I countered. “You and I have the right to review and waive this rule. We’ve done it before too, and you know it. How the hell did Aimes get to be there in the first place?”

Philip pursed his lips, still unmoved. “Aimes is different!”

“How so?” I demanded. “He was not a Fraternity member when he first went there.”

That shut Philip up for a bit.

“Look Phil,” I coaxed, “the kid needs help. He’s practically alone, no friends, family who wouldn’t understand the predicament he is in. He is very vulnerable right now. Let Lowen get his talons into him again and that would be the end of him.”

“Who is sponsoring him then?” Philip asked. “Are you willing to do it?”


His eyes bored into mine through the LCD screen. “I see.”

“I don’t want to do this without your agreement,” I said, sincerely meaning it. “If you are seriously against it, say so and I will find another solution.”

Philip glared at me and inquired grudgingly. “Has he been told the Code?”

“No, but of course I will do so once we have reached an agreement.”

“Do you think he will be willing to accept it?”

“I don’t know for sure Phil. He is still spooked. But in all honesty, I think he just needs someone to take him in hand. Andrew swears he is a Brat; they say it takes one to know another instantly and Andrew spotted him right on.”

Phillip’s mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace. “How did he take Ryan’s delay?”

“Only Marcus’ presence saved him from the paddle tonight, although I suspect he may have secretly preferred that to the five hundred lines I made him write.”

“I’m going to make sure Ryan takes time off and bring Andrew there this summer, at least for a couple of weeks. That couple needs strong reinforcement!”

We chatted a bit more about Fraternity business, primarily about the coming summer arrangements, and then hung up. No further reference was made to Marcus’s sojourn in Willcott. We had tacitly agreed and Philip would trust me to take care of the arrangements. He always did.


I walked nervously into Dr Spencer’s study. “You wish to see me, Dr Spencer?”

He looked up, gesturing for me to take a seat opposite him. I felt suddenly like a recalcitrant student, who hadn’t handed in an assignment and was now facing the headmaster. He didn’t look too mad though, so I smiled at him, sat down and waited.

“Marcus, I spoke to your dad this morning.”

“W-what!” I almost jumped out of the chair.

“I got the contact from student records and called him.”

“You spoke to my dad?” I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Its okay, Marcus, calm down. We only talked about school.”

“What … what did you talk about?” I squeaked.

“I told him I was your Engineering professor and that I was offering you a summer job. I said I would need you the entire break, so you would not be going home at all.”

I sucked in my breath, battling with a few different mental threads all at the same time. I picked the one with the top priority. “You got me a summer job?”

“We will get to that in a minute. Let’s talk about your dad for now.”

“O-kay …” I wondered where this was leading. The thought of my professor speaking with my dad made me slightly sick.

“I also told him you weren’t ready to take the final exams this year, which means you aren’t going to graduate as scheduled.”

The words punched me in the stomach; I gripped my lip with my teeth and managed to choke out, “and what did he say?”

“He’s not pleased, but he knows he has no choice but to accept it. In fact, he now agrees that it’s better for you to defer one year rather than drop out altogether. You are going to finish your degree and graduate. Isn’t that what you promised me if I could get you away for the summer?”

“Yes,” I nodded, wishing he would hurry up and tell me about the plans he had made for summer instead.

As if reading my thoughts, Dr Spencer smiled and said. “You need to call your dad after this, and give him your assurance, okay?” He waited for my nod, and then continued. “Now, about that summer job.”

I sat up, my body tensing instinctively.

“Every summer, I go to a place up in the north, and I spend a couple of months there. Sometimes at a stretch, sometimes over several trips. Some friends and I have a – kind of summer home, which we also open up for other friends to visit. I thought you could go there too, help around with chores. Very few people know about it; you’ll be quite safe. There’s always some kind of work to get done. You’ll also be paid an allowance; nothing grand, just some pocket money in exchange for your time.”

“What kind of work?” I asked, my stomach abruptly churning uneasily. My heart was in my mouth. I didn’t want to get into another situation like what I had faced with Christian. I had experienced enough friendly gatherings - miserable excuses for free sex and orgies. Parties which made my skin crawl. The only thing Christian had not subjected me to so far was a partner swap, but I had seen enough of that happening in his circle, and I guessed it would only be a matter of time. I had detested the way Chad and Chester looked at me.

Suddenly I felt ashamed that I could think that of Dr Spencer. He was nothing like Christian! How could I even suspect him of such low behavior? I flushed and bent my head.

He didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. Instead he smiled and explained, “There is someone there I want you to meet. His name is Aimes, and he is … rather reserved. Aimes lives there full-time and he runs the place all year round, which is fine when he is alone. But when we visit during summer, he has more than he can cope with. I thought you could give him a hand. You know - preparing meals when a group is expected. Keeping the place clean and tidy. That sort of thing.”

It sounded decent enough, not too difficult. I was sure I could do it; besides I was desperate to do anything to get away. Well, almost anything! And did Dr Spencer say he would be there as well? That was a definite plus point.

I inquired politely, “Is this some kind of hotel?”

His eyes crinkled at the sides, making him look incredibly sexy. “Well, you can think of it that way. Only difference is the clientele is very select. For one, it’s not open to the public, which is what I need to talk to you about.”

I stared at him, my attention fully caught. It took me a while to digest what he said.

“Fraternity?” I was a bit dazed. “Like some secret society?”

Dr Spencer sighed but said patiently. “Let’s just say we share a lot of things in common and we like our privacy.”

“And you started this? With Philip?” I asked. I had met Philip the other night when he came over for dinner; he was very nice too, but not as nice as Dr Spencer of course.

Dr Spencer nodded. “Yes. We live within the confines of a DP – which we already talked about - and we have a code of conduct which we all obey. Remember what I told you earlier?”

“Yes.” There were rules, and expectations, and consequences. It felt oddly exhilarating.

“Marcus, what I’ve just told you must be kept in strict confidence. Not because what we do is wrong or illegal, but because we value our privacy. We do not divulge such information to people outside the Fraternity; we keep our lives very private and sharing this with you is an extremely special exception, for which I have to seek permission and take full responsibility.”

I gulped. It seemed like a heck of a lot of trust to be placing on me. I felt compelled to reassure him. “I totally understand, Dr Spencer. You can trust me.”

“I know, Marcus, and I do trust you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this.” He smiled. “Now, one final detail.”

“Yes?” My head was already swimming.

“Because you are not a real member, you will be there under my sponsorship. Don’t misunderstand; you are not there as my … partner, or in our terms, as my Brat. But you will be held accountable to me.”

I flushed and looked away. I wasn’t quite sure why I felt such a sharp stab of disappointment.

“Are you uncomfortable with that, Marcus?” Dr Spencer asked quietly.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes lowered, afraid to let him read my thoughts. “No, sir.”

He paused, studying me. “I know it will take some time for you to get used to our rules and arrangements Marcus. Do not worry too much, its not as intimidating as it sounds.”

I nodded. “I’m fine, really. I am not worried.”

“All right then. Apart from the code, the Tops will likely set up other rules for their own Brats. That is totally acceptable and very common within our group. For you, I will stand in place as your Top since you are unattached, and you will need to follow my rules, if I decide any are necessary.”

I felt an unexpected thrill run down my spine; obeying Dr Spencer’s rule didn’t sound half bad.

“Any questions, Marcus?”

“Um … well, yeah … if a Brat,” and my tongue tripped over the word, “broke the rules, then they get p-punished right?” He nodded. “Well, what about m-me?” I asked, suddenly feeling rather shy.

“I am glad you asked, Marcus. The rules stay in place for all Brats. Their Tops, whether they are their real life partners or stand-in Tops, like what I am with Ryan and what I will be with you, have the same authority.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I see.” I had a fleeting image of being draped over Dr Spencer’s lap and my face flamed. “So, w-what you are saying is …. that …” I could hardly look him in the eye.

Dr Spencer’s face was perfectly serious, though I thought I caught a glimmer in his eyes. “If you break a rule or disobey me, I will have the right to punish you, and that will include a bare-bottomed spanking.”


The arrangements, once I started to put them in motion, were accomplished rather speedily. The only snag was that I had a couple of meetings I could not push out, which meant I would not be able to bring Marcus with me to Willcott. I would have to send him up alone, ahead of me.

My phone call to Aimes went as expected. He listened without saying much and when I finished speaking, grounded out a curt agreement to my plans.

“I will be up in about ten days, Aimes. In the meantime, take care of Marcus for me. He is to help you out in whatever way you choose. We are going to be busy again this summer, Aimes, so you best stock up well.”


Marcus had much more to say when I broke the news to him.

“But why can’t I go up with you, Dr Spencer?” He asked in dismay.

“I can’t leave for at least another week,” I explained.

He looked torn.

“It’ll be all right, Marcus. I’ve got your bus ticket here; its for tomorrow. Aimes will meet you at the bus stop when you arrive, and he will take care of you, show you the ropes. By the time I get there, you will be able to show me all the improvements Aimes has put in over the months. He usually keeps himself busy with all kinds of projects. He will appreciate an extra pair of hands.”

Reluctantly, Marcus nodded. “All right, Dr Spencer.”

Marcus spent the rest of the day putting his stuff together. He didn’t have much, everything fitted into a backpack. He refused to call his landlord about his apartment; he just enclosed two months’ rent in advance in the mail and requested me to send it off for him.

The next day, I drove him to the bus station. From the way his eyes darted around, I could see he was still nervous about being spotted. I guess he wasn’t going to under-estimate Christian Lowen’s reach in our little town.

“Well, Marcus,” I said as I killed the engine and turned to look at him. “Are you all set? Any last minute items left behind?”

“No,” he said shortly.

“No worries, I can bring whatever you may have missed, as long as it can wait a week or so,” I said with an attempt at lightness. He seemed much too tense. “Listen Marcus, this is going to work out, okay?”

Marcus started to say something, and then stopped himself.

“What” I asked.

He flushed. “I just wanted to say – thanks for doing this for me. I really appreciate all you’ve done, Dr Spencer. I didn’t mean to put you to so much trouble.”

He looked very young and rather scared. “No trouble, Marcus,” I said reassuringly.

He rushed on. “I don’t know what I would have done if …”

I reached out and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Hey, didn’t I say it’s going to be all right? Trust me?”

He nodded shyly, a little smile peeking out from his dimpled cheeks. “Yes,” he said softly.

My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of what must have attracted Lowen, and I could understand why Lowen had been so obsessed.

Clearing my throat, I said with as much composure as I could. “Anything you don’t understand, you can ask Aimes. He may not say much but he will be able to help. Don’t be afraid of his gruffness; he is a kind man underneath. And you can always call me.”

I was surprised when Marcus leaned over and put his arms around my neck for a quick hug. “Thanks Dr Spencer,” he repeated, his cheeks turning an attractive pink.

“I think it’s time we drop the title and just keep it to Stewart,” I said. “Don’t you agree?”

His thick lashes fluttered in quick surprise and then he broke into a smile. “Yes, Stewart.”

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