THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie
Greywolf
Chapter 25 ~ A
Wee Small Voice
Children's Prayer
Evenings when I go to sleep,
Fourteen Angels watch do keep,
Two are standing at my head,
At my feet two softly tread,
Two stand on my right side,
Two upon my left bide,
Two who cozy make me,
Two from sleep awake me,
Two who guide my steps aright,
And lead me on towards heaven’s light.*
Part I ~ Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief
For all practical purposes Chief was completely moved in with us.
He decided his weekend with me could just as well be in his room
on Mt. Washington as it could his old apartment. His heart was on
the mountain anyway. He belonged on the mountain with his family.
The Dungeon Master and I made a couple of trips in the evenings
with Master Jeb’s old pickup truck to help him. Chief had a fairly
new Ford 3/4 ton Ranger pickup truck. Even Dad Jake helped us one
afternoon and had a ball. He sat and drank beer with us afterward
until eight o’clock. I phoned his wife, to tell her he was all
right, and was with us. We were catching up, talking, and having a
beer. We’d send him along in a little while. She recognized my
voice and was glad to hear from me. She wanted to know how I was
doing. I told her fine, we kidnapped her husband and were enjoying
seeing him again. She was gracious and seemed to be grateful I
called. Dad thanked me later, she was so touched we thought enough
to call, she wasn’t the least upset with him.
It was Chief’s week. Everything was going his way. He was happier
than a clam in deep water. To top the week off he went by the
Harley shop to ask Dirk’s advice about his bike and saw a brand
new Harley Super Glide like the one Master Wolf bought. Dirk
called Chief the next day and made him a deal he couldn’t refuse.
He’d sell Chief the Harley at dealer cost if they got the Norton
as trade in. Chief jumped for it.
Chief had savings he hadn’t touched for years and could write a
check for the bike. He didn’t. He went to the bank and got cash.
He carried it around in his pocket all afternoon at work. He made
the Dungeon Master and I promise we’d go with him to pick it up.
He wanted Master Jeb to go, too, but he wasn't feeling all that
well. It was Thursday afternoon and Sam let Chief off a little
early to go get his new bike.
Chief didn't ask to get off early. Sam, brotherly, kicked his ass
out the door. “Go, get your new toy!” Sam barked at him as he put
his arm around Chief’s shoulder and patted him on the back.
Chief took the Norton to trade and Big Jim and I rode on Big Jim’s
Harley with him. We got there about four o’clock; however, after
signing papers, money changing hands, titles to bikes taken care
of we weren’t out of there ‘til six.
Dirk was happy for Chief and showed him everything about the bike.
It was a handsome machine and Chief looked equally as handsome
riding it. We headed out of the place and went South on Brand
Boulevard into Atwater. To celebrate, Chief invited us to dinner
at his favorite Mexican Restaurant, Casita Del Campo. The
restaurant opened in the middle sixties. Chief knew the owners and
most of the waitresses. He tipped well and always got the best
service. Word gets around among waitresses, who tips and who
don’t. I’d been there several times but Big Jim never had. We
pulled into the parking lot and two men dressed in leather were
arriving at the same time on another Harley.
In the lot, leaning against his bike was my master. He saw Chief’s
new bike and gave him the okay thumbs-up sign and was smiling ear
to ear. Chief didn’t say anything to us but called Master Earl
from home before we left asking if he would join us for dinner in
celebration of his new bike. Master Earl knew the two men
who pulled up at the same time and was shaking hands with them as
we parked. They were good friends of Chief’s as well, but he
didn’t invite them. It was coincidence they were coming to dinner
at the same time. Everyone was complimenting and raving about
Chief’s new bike, telling him how good he looked riding it. He
invited the two men to join us.
The master’s name was Alex Hanson and his slave’s name was Glenn.
Alex was a well built, smaller man with an attitude twice his
size, but Alex had a corresponding heart to go along with the size
of his attitude. He was a cocky little motherfucker but lovable.
He would talk on an equal basis with master or slave and enjoyed
everyone's company. He neither talked down to his slave nor
humiliated him in public. He demanded manners and thoughtfulness
and got it. His slave, Glenn, was a bit fey but a fine looking
young man. Chief introduced us as his new house mates.
“Alex, Glenn, this is Master Jim and his slave, Beau. Master Jim,
Alex Hanson,” Chief introduced the men.
Alex stuck out his hand to shake Big Jim’s. “Pleasure to meet you,
Alex,” Big Jim shook his hand.
“Pleasure’s mine, sir. I love big people,” he said genuinely. Alex
grabbed me and hugged me unexpectedly, but what the Hell, I went
along with it. Glenn and I shook hands.
“You know Master Earl, Chief?” Alex asked.
“Yes, Alex. I invited him to join us. He’s a good friend of mine,”
Chief said. Master Earl smiled in agreement. “Won’t you
gentlemen join us. My treat all ‘round. I rarely celebrate; but, I
have lots to be thankful for, and I feel like sharing with those I
love,” Chief invited them.
“Thanks for the invite, we’d be delighted to join you, Chief,”
Alex replied.
Alex couldn’t get over Big Jim. He kept looking at him, trying not
to be obvious. The harder he tried the more obvious he became. He
was so impressed with his size, I thought he was going to
embarrass Big Jim. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and
looked at Big Jim and said in the most sincere tone of voice. “I’m
sorry, sir. Please forgive me. I only meant to compliment you on
your size. As you can see I’m not a very big man. I’ve had to deal
with small jokes all my life, and it’s not pleasant. You’re on the
opposite end and for a minute I forgot you have feelings, too.
Please forgive me,” Alex won Big Jim’s heart in that moment.
“Young man, there’s only two people in my life what’s ever been
sensitive enough to understand the concept of your analogy. The
first was a childhood friend, who later became my lover, who knew
me like his own soul. You are the second. Of course I forgive you,
Son,” he said. Big Jim hugged Alex and they were friends.
“You’re a fortunate slave to have this man for a master, Beau,”
Alex said.
“I count my blessings everyday, Master Alex. He’s as good as he is
big. He has a heart to match his body,” I replied.
“Indeed, he does, Alex,” Master Earl agreed.
Alex was bright. He picked up on everything. Nothing went over his
head. He could contribute something intelligent to almost any
topic we talked about. His slave, Glenn, on the other hand, was
somewhat shy and retiring but would respond intelligently if
spoken to directly. He seemed to have good manners. They made
delightful dinner companions. During the evening, Alex noticed
Chief referring to Big Jim as ‘Master Jim’ and then ‘dungeon
master.’ Then a couple of times I jokingly called him ‘Master Ox.’
He heard Master Earl refer to Big Jim as the dungeon master and
was fascinated by the title.
“Slave Beau, how many names do you and Chief have for your
master?” he asked.
I laughed and reminded him of affectionate cognomen people give
each other as a sign of respect and love. He nodded his
understanding. “I call him Master Ox because he’s hung like Paul
Bunyan’s big blue ox,” I said softly into Alex in his ear. He
started laughing so hard we worried he was going choke on his
food.
We had a wonderful dinner. As we finished and began to leave Alex
mentioned to us the following Sunday afternoon he was going to be
in a Mr. Leather contest at Jim’s Corral in Long Beach. Could we
come and root for him? He would love for us to come down to see
him and Glenn. Chief didn’t elaborate when he told Alex he was
having a house guest for the weekend, but if he could get away and
bring him he might. Not to count on him, but he would try.
As Alex shook Big Jim’s hand he looked directly into his eyes. “I
would be most honored and proud, sir, if you and your slave could
come down,” he said.
To my surprise Big Jim replied, “We’ll try, Son. No promises, but
if possible, we’ll be there.”
You could have knocked me down. I didn’t expect that from Big Jim.
I never knew he went to a gay bar. I found out there were a lot of
things I didn’t know about Big Jim. Alex shook Master Earl’s hand
and invited him to come to Long Beach as well. “Earl D., old
friend, we don’t get to see enough of you. We would be honored and
thrilled if you could join us as well. Come down with these
wonderful men. Make an afternoon of it,” Alex urged. Master Earl
assured him he would try.
* * * * * * *
Friday night came and I cleaned up looking forward to the weekend
with Chief. He got home from work around five, was cleaned up and
looking sharp by six. He told me to put on my leathers we were
going for a ride. He was very mysterious with everyone and
wouldn’t tell Big Jim where we were going. He confided in Master
Jeb and asked him not to tell until we were gone. We rode into
Hollywood and straight down Hollywood Boulevard past Vine a couple
of blocks. We stopped in front of an old looking Italian
Restaurant, Musso and Frank's. Chief told me to watch the bike, he
would be right back. He returned with a small wooden basket with
two handles and handed it to me to carry. Off we went. Chief
headed west on Hollywood Blvd. and turned right on Highland. We
rode north about a quarter of a mile and Chief signaled to turn
left into the tall palm trees with a large parking area.
We pulled into a bike parking area that had a security guard
watching the bikes. We were the third or fourth bike there. The
man asked Chief for a parking/bike check ticket and he pulled one
out of the pocket of his leather jacket. The man tore it in two
and gave Chief the other half. The man then tied the other half to
the handle bars of Chief’s new Harley. Then he wrote the license
number, make and model of the bike on a pad attached to a
clipboard.
We walked to an entryway where people were going and Chief
produced two tickets. He handed them to the man at the entrance.
He directed Chief to our seating section. We walked up a flight of
steps, got to the top and, my God, it was the Hollywood Bowl. I’d
never been to the bowl before. We went all the way down
front. Chief bought box seat tickets, front row center, for the
night’s performance. I was awestruck, not because of the grandeur
and history of the place but by Chief’s thoughtfulness.
He knew I would enjoy something like this. He opened the basket
and in it was a small table cloth, napkins, plastic forks and
knives, two plastic wine glasses and a bottle of Cabernet. There
was a small antipasto, which was more than enough for two, a
wonderful Lasagna and a side of spaghetti with meat sauce. A feast
at our own table at the Hollywood Bowl. What an unexpected
treat. Romantic to the max. They even included a corkscrew
for the wine.
We got set up, and Chief poured the wine. People were arriving all
around us and doing the same. Some brought theirs from home
and had elegant settings. Ours was best, because it was from the
heart. It couldn’t have been more special. It was a perfect, warm
summer’s night. We ate and talked quietly. I was so impressed with
what Chief did I told him no one ever did anything this nice for
me since I’d been in L.A. We finished our meal and cleaned up the
box with only our wine glasses left. We finished the bottle of
wine during the concert. What a joy. It was a magical evening.
I asked Chief what he planned for tomorrow and he told me it was a
surprise, too. After the concert we were on the bike and gone. No
waiting in long traffic lines. He gave the man our ticket, he
matched it with the one on the bike, and we were off. We rode down
Santa Monica Boulevard East to Vine, parked in an underground
parking structure and took an elevator to the 'Top Of the Mark,' a
Bar and restaurant that revolved 360 degrees every hour to see all
the lights and views of Hollywood and Los Angeles. On a clear
night they say you can see all the way to Catalina.
We had an after dinner drink at a small table for two. We sat for
a couple of rotations of the room, enjoying a couple of drinks and
talking quietly of our past, present, and dreams for the
future. Chief paid our tab and we left. A perfect ending to
a wonderful evening. We rode back to Mt. Washington and my heart
was as full as my belly. I never had such a wonderful night. God
willing, and the creek don’t rise, I was going to have the extra
treat of of serving and providing comfort for this warm,
thoughtful, giving human being; my brother, the red man, the man
to whom, I owed my life. Who would've thought, all these years
later, I would be lying in his arms tonight. "Thank you, Wes," I
whispered under my breath as we climbed the hill to the house. A
little will-of-the-wisp blue light shot in front of the bike and
danced around us like it was trying to say, 'I heard you! I heard
you!' Chief pointed it out as we drove into the drive.
“Wes?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I said, “I just thanked him for bringing us together, and
he’s letting me know he heard.” I broke into tears and Chief
held me until I was okay. “I’m sorry, Chief. After such a magic
wonderful evening, I didn’t mean to put a damper on it,” I said.
“You didn’t. It was a perfect touch for the evening to have Wes’
blessing. Those were as much tears of joy as they were sorrow,” he
said.
He was right, I had to admit, they were tears of joy. We went in
and ‘Mom and Pop’ were waiting up for us. We were glad to see
them. Master Jeb laughed at me. “I don’t think his boots have
touched the floor yet,” Jeb told the dungeon master.
“How was it, Little Beaver?” Master Jim asked.
“Now I know how Cinderella must have felt,” I replied.
They laughed at me, but Chief knew I was serious. It was totally
unexpected. I launched into a minute by minute account plus
descriptions of the music played. They looked bored. I told them
not to worry it would all be in my journal. They laughed again. We
went up to Chief’s big new room with windows on two sides. It was
the biggest bedroom on the upstairs floor with its own bath. He
spent every night fixing it up. He was going to have his own phone
put in. Chief seemed happier than I ever saw him.
There came a knock at the door and a deep voice said, “Room
service for Mr. Red Feather.” He opened the door and there was Big
Jim with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket and two
glasses with a card. He set it on the small table in the room.
Chief ask me, jokingly, if he should tip him. “On the house,
Gentlemen,” the dungeon master replied, laughed, turned and left,
closing the door behind him. Chief looked at me and shrugged his
shoulders. He hadn’t planned this. He read the card and tears came
to his eyes as he handed it to me. The card read: 'We’re glad to
have you with us, Chief, as a member of our family. We’re blessed
to have two fine young men share our home and our lives. With
love, Jeb & Jim.' What a nice sentiment. We had to hold each
other for a minute.
“I won’t cry,” I told him.
“Why the Hell not, I am,” he said and laughed. We shared a laugh.
We enjoyed the wine and spent a wonderful evening making love. We
shared the most wonderful unhurried sex. I didn’t have much time
to spend with Chief since I met him due to my training schedule,
but he was always there with a good word, and his support. This
was quality time with my hero and we both drank each other up like
sponges. Of the many sexual partners I experienced over the years,
Chief could make the most tender yet strongly masculine love to me
anyone ever has. There was no one else to compare him with. He was
unique. Sex to him was getting what he needed but his strength was
to provide his partner with the spirit of knowing what they
brought to the feast was greatly appreciated. He had no intention
of sharing equally, but to receive as much in giving as he
received in the taking. When Chief drained me it was total and
complete. He drained me from my body and my soul. What more could
you ask of any master.
I never spent a more magic night than that evening in his arms. I
told him I envied the slave who would one day call him master. I
would know the love they were getting, be happy for them, but
reserve a little envy for myself. He laughed and kissed me again.
God, he was a fine lover. That evening we bonded as brothers
forever. He whispered the words as we lay there spent, “My thanks
you, too, Wes,” he said softly. Through the open window the tiny
blue light appeared circled his head three times and bussed him on
the cheek and was gone.
"He must have a job in the area," I said. We both laughed.
That night I had another visit from Wes. It was in a dream. He
told me we must to go to the bar Sunday afternoon to meet Alex. If
we didn’t, a good man was going to die. He included Chief, Big
Jim, and Master Earl in my dream. The next morning I was quiet at
breakfast. It was unusual for me not to join in the conversation.
I picked at my food I usually couldn’t get down fast enough.
Everyone else got quiet. I didn’t notice until I looked up and
they were looking at me with concern, sort of like your mother
just before she got out the rectal thermometer. Master Jeb saw
this mood before, and it rang a bell with him. “Wes told you
something last night, and it wasn’t good,” he said.
I swear that old man could read my mind, but only because I knew
he loved me enough to try. I nodded my head affirmative. “He told
me it was very important the three of us and Master Earl attend
the function at the bar in Long Beach Sunday afternoon or a good
man will be killed. We are to rescue him, help him, and keep him
hidden, but it was in a dream, not like he usually comes to me,” I
said.
“We saw him twice last night,” Chief added.
“Then his spirit is agitated and wants you men to intervene,” said
Master Jeb.
“You woke me talking to someone last night, Beau,” Chief said,
“All I could make out was, ‘how will we recognize him?’”
“Wes told me we would know when ‘it’ starts. Whatever ‘it’ means,”
I said.
“Then you must go,” said Master Jeb, “Whether it comes true or
not. If there’s even a chance you men’s presence might prevent a
death you must go,” said Master Jeb.
“I agree with Jeb,” the dungeon master said.
“Then we go,” Chief said.
“I’m sorry, Masters, but I feel strongly about this. Wes even
showed me what he looks like. I’ll recognize him when I see him,”
I apologized.
“Don’t be sorry, Son,” said Master Jeb, “These men believe you and
so do I. We know you wouldn’t lie to us, especially about
something as serious as a man’s life at stake,” he said.
“Absolutely, Bro,” Chief said, “I have something for us to do
today and we need to get ready and go shortly or we’ll be late.
We’ll be gone for the evening, Gentlemen, but we’ll return
tomorrow morning in plenty of time to pick you up, Dungeon Master,
and ride together," Chief said.
“Should we bike it or take a truck?” Big Jim asked.
“We should take Chief’s truck, but we have to wear our leathers
and look as mean as possible. I’m not to wear my slave collar for
some reason. I’m sorry,” I apologized again.
“Beau, we trust you, now stop that. That’s an order, Son,” Big Jim
said with the voice of authority.
“Yes, sir, Dungeon Master,” I replied, “We need to put the shell
on Chief’s truck and put something comfortable to lie on in the
back like the big foam pad rolled up under the stage in the
auditorium,” I continued.
“How did you know about the truck shell? It’s at work and you
never...oh, never mind,” Chief said bemused.
“How’d he know about the foam? I put that under there six months
ago, and I know no one’s been under there since. I have the only
key,” said the Dungeon Master, shrugging his shoulders at Chief.
“Okay, Guys, lets do it,” Chief said.
Chief got on the phone to Master Sam to ask permission to go in
the lot to get his camper shell. Beau and Big Jim were gonna’ give
him a hand. Sam told him it would be fine. He knew Chief had a set
of keys to the yard. Did we need any help? Chief told him he
thought the three of us could handle it.
“We need to get the camper shell now,” Chief said, “Lemme’ make a
phone call and tell my friend we’ll be about an hour late,” he
said.
“I’ll take you guys in Jeb's truck. We’ll put the shell on and you
can go from there. I’ll drive back here. Then we’ll be ready
for tomorrow,” Big Jim said.
“Sounds good to me,” Chief said.
“Me, too, Master Ox, and thanks for believing in me. I promise,
this will come to pass,” I said sounding like a prophet.
Chief went to use the phone to tell his friend or friends, we
would be a few minutes late, an emergency arose and we would
explain when we got there. We got the shell on the camper and
waved goodbye to the dungeon master and went on our way.
“We’re only going to be about thirty minutes late, Beau,” Chief
said and smile at me.
We headed west up Sunset and turned at my master’s turn. Chief
looked at me, grinned, and sort of shrugged. “You know, Beau, he
was awfully generous and made me feel welcome that first night I
met him with Dirk and Allen. It’s the least I can do for the man,”
Chief said.
“I’d hug you right now if I could, Chief,” I said with tears in my
eyes.
“Wait ‘til we get out of the truck, okay?” he laughed as he pulled
into the carport. Master Earl came out the kitchen door in all his
leathers.
He hugged and kissed Chief on the cheek. “You didn’t have to do
this, Chief,” he said.
“Are you kidding, Master Earl, as good as you’ve been to me? You
welcome a total stranger into your home and make me feel like a
respected member of your family. I’ll never forget that, sir,”
Chief said.
“Where’s the new Harley?” Master Earl asked with concern.
“We’re on a mission for Wes, Master Earl, we brought the truck. We
were told to go by work to pickup the camper shell on our way
here. We’ll tell you about it,” Chief said as we walked into the
house.
I fell to my knees, kissed each of my master's boots, found his
hand waiting, kissed the back and heard him say, “Rise troubled
slave and show your master your love,” he commanded. I was in his
arms in a flash, hugging and kissing him. He knew from my
demeanor, something was wrong. “Spill, our good Slave!”
Master Earl said firmly to me as he poured us both a cup of
coffee. I told him the upshot of my dream and the things that came
to me this morning.
“You men need me to go with you or meet you down there?
Sometimes flashing a badge can get cooperation from other cops.
They may or may not be involved,” Master Earl said.
“Aren’t you afraid of being seen in a gay bar, Master Earl?” Chief
asked.
“I used to be, but after Wes died, I’ve gone to functions every
now and then. If it happens, it happens, but I believe Wes won’t
let it happen,” he replied.
I hadn’t thought about Wes protecting us, but why not? I could
tell, Chief didn't think about it either.
“You might be of help, then,” Chief said.
“Am I suppose to go, Beau?” Master Earl asked.
“Yes, sir. You and Chief ride your bikes down and the dungeon
master and I will follow in Chief’s truck. We’re gonna’ have to
take him to Yoshie,” I said.
“Let’s do it. Beryl and Blaine are big friends with Alex. I’ll
call them and see if they’re planning to attend,” Master Earl
said. He got on the phone and got Beryl immediately. “Hey, old
friend, this is Earl,” he said.
“How’er you, Son?” Beryl asked.
“We’re fine, here, Dad. Say, you guys are good friends with Alex
Hanson, right?” Master Earl asked.
“Yeah, we got a call from him this week asking us to join him at a
bar in Long Beach tomorrow afternoon. He’s in some leather man
contest and wanted our support. I told him we’d try, but we
decided yesterday afternoon not to go; however, we done had us a
surprise visit from a little blue light last night. It was very
agitated and upset about something. We went to bed, Blaine had
this vivid dream and woke me sitting up in bed talking to someone;
only, no one was there. Blaine told me he saw us, you, Big Jim,
Beau, and Chief in the bar. Blaine tells me we have to go and with
all I’ve seen happen in the last couple months, that’s good enough
for this old man. Is that why you’re calling? Did Beau get a
visit, too?” he asked.
“Yeah, Dad, he did, same thing, we have to go. He and Chief are
gonna’ shit when I tell them. I don’t have to, I just saw that
knowing smile, he knows. The thing starts around four. See you
there, Dad,” Master Earl replied.
“We’ll be there, Son, see you then,” Beryl said.
* * * * * * *
Part II ~ The McInnis Clan Posse
Chief planned to leave and let my master and I be alone. Master
Earl wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted Chief spend the afternoon
and evening with us. He called Beryl back to asked if they wanted
to ride up, stay the night, and we’d ride down to Long Beach
the next day. They said it sounded good to them and would be up
later.
We talked about a lot of things but conversation kept drifting
back to what was going down tomorrow. We had no idea. I knew the
person, a slave, who would become very important to our family
would be involved. How, or why, wouldn’t come to me. Master Earl
left Chief and me alone, went to his favorite Italian place for
take out, and got vast quantities of food for everyone’s dinner.
Chief and I heard two Harleys in the lot next to the car port.
Beryl and Blaine arrived. We went out to greet them, and they were
as glad to see us as we were to see them. Blaine started crying
when he hugged me.
“Oh, Beau, I saw and spoke to Wes. He looked great he was so
buffed. He told me the name, and I couldn’t remember until a while
ago, but he was in Nam with us. His name is Will Blake.
Remember little Will who used to tag around everywhere with your
two buddies, Windsor and Smith?” Blaine asked.
“Yeah, I remember him. Wes didn’t tell me who he was. Guess he
thought you’d remember him better. I saw the face of a young man
about our age, but now I think about it, you’re right, it was Will
Blake’s face. Wasn’t he in your platoon for a while?” I asked.
“Yeah, for a while, but he was reassigned just before we went on
that disastrous junket. I heard he was shot up pretty bad and got
sent home. I think he was in Cochran’s platoon,” Blaine said.
“Did you know him, Chief?” I asked.
“No, I don’t recall the name. Hell, there were so many kids
through there I might know him. I couldn’t tell you unless I saw
him,” Chief said.
“He must be pretty important for Wes to round up the troops. Well,
there’s always strength in numbers. You worried about it, Son?”
Big Beryl asked me as he pulled me into him.
“Not worried, Dad. Perhaps a little apprehensive. If we go down
there, it turns out okay, fine. If we do nothing, the kid will die
and the queen who kills him will get off Scott-free. Poor Alex
will think we’re coming down there for him. He don’t have to know
otherwise,” I replied.
“Alex is a good man. You’re right, he won’t know we have
precognition of something about to happen,” Master Earl said, “No
need to burst his bubble.”
“I’m not to wear my collar and Wes said to dress as mean as
possible. Did you get that Blaine?” I asked.
“Look at us. Neither of us has trimmed our beards or staches. I
always do dad’s ever Sunday morning, and he trims mine for me.
We’re wearing bandannas instead of our usual helmets. We’re
wearing more leather that Gloria Vanderbilt. Don’t we look mean
enough?” Blaine asked. Dad Beryl saw a glint in my eye and
flashed.
“Blaine, you dummy, you just had to ask?” laughed Big Beryl.
“Well, Blaine, Dad looks mean enough, you look more like Gloria
Vanderbilt,” I said and winked at him. Everyone laughed including
Blaine. He called me an asshole and everyone laughed harder. It
was a moment of comic relief everyone needed.
Master Earl returned and we sat down to dinner. Master Earl bought
a lot of food. We thought to save some for Master Jeb and take it
to him tomorrow. The five of us sat in the hot tub, and I
recounted my wonderful Friday night with Chief to my Master, Big
Beryl, and Blaine. They were impressed by Chief’s thoughtfulness.
We wanted to get to bed early to be fresh for the next day.
“What say we take brunch over to the dungeon master and Master Jeb
tomorrow? We can leave from there. I can stop and pick up food on
the way,” said Master Earl.
“Sounds great to us,” Big Beryl said. We all agreed.
Beryl and Blaine retired to one of the upstairs bedrooms, and I
set clean towels out for them. Chief took the downstairs bedroom
with the attached bath. I stayed with my master. We had the most
relaxed sex we ever had, and he seemed satisfied. He ordered me to
go crawl in bed with Chief in case he should wish to use me. I
kissed and hugged him, told him goodnight, and he was the best of
masters. He patted me on the butt and sent me on my way. Chief
wasn’t asleep. He was so happy to see me, I thought he was going
to cry. We made love, and got a peaceful night's sleep.
We were up early the next morning. Master Earl called to give
Master Jeb and the dungeon master notice they were about to be
invaded by a pillaging hoard. Their reaction: bring it on. Master
Earl told Beryl and Blaine to go on up to the house, we were going
to stop by the big supermarket at the bottom of the hill to buy
brunch fixings. We did our shopping and carried the groceries out
to Chief’s truck.
Master Earl followed us up the hill. We parked Chief’s truck on
the hill in front of the big house. We carried the food into
the kitchen, and I went through the ritual greeting with Master
Jeb and the dungeon master who hugged me awfully tight. Chief,
Blaine, and I got busy with brunch and the four masters had coffee
and talked. Master Jeb was wowed by Blaine’s visitation and agreed
this must be something important.
Then, suddenly, it came to me, like the clouds parted, and I knew
who and what this kid was about and why? He was, indeed,
important. I got quiet again fixing brunch and seeing to the
masters at the table. Big Jim was watching me like a hawk. I was
trying not to look at him, because if I did, he would know in an
instant. I wasn’t sure I wanted everyone to know. I got him
another cup of coffee and some more sugar as the bowl was empty. I
returned it to the table, and he grabbed me. He set me in his big
lap and looked me in the eye. He knew. The other three masters
turned to look. “Spill!” he commanded.
“Am I that obvious, Master?” I asked meekly.
“I can read you like your slave journal and so can your master. He
knew, too,” Big Jim said and winked at Master Earl.
“He’s right, Beaver,” my master agreed.
“Okay, I don’t know whether I’m suppose to tell yet or not,” I
said with some frustration.
“Hell, Son, if you know something, tell. It might make things
easier for us.” Big Beryl said.
Master Jeb had a little different insight. “This doesn’t have to
do with what’s going down at the bar, does it, Son?” he asked.
“Naw, sir, it doesn’t Master Jeb,” I said.
He mused for a minute. “Can you generalize?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, it’s who the kid is, why he's important, why we must to
do this, and what he will mean to us personally and the family in
general,” I said.
“I don’t think you would have this revelation now if you weren’t
meant to share it, Son,” Big Beryl said and added, “It would come
later if you weren't meant to tell us now,” he added.
The old man made a good point, one I hadn’t considered. “Damn good
point, Dad,” I said as I jumped in his lap and hugged his
neck,“You’re absolutely right. This man is to be Master Zack’s new
slave, the love of his life," I told them.
Every man at the table gasp. They became very quiet thinking of
the significance and ramifications. “What about Button?” Everyone
wanted to know.
“He’ll stay with Master Zack and his new slave. They’ll be good to
him, he won’t be left out. Master Zack won’t abandon him, he
truly loves Button, but Button will never be what he needs.
Then after about a year – no, less, six to eight months – Sarge
will buy Button from Master Zack, and he will become a houseboy
slave to Sarge and Titus. Sarge will take him own as a project and
Button will mature and grow strong under that old hard-ass's care.
Titus will become a big brother icon to him and Button will strive
to be like him. Button will be happier than he’s ever been.
They’ll shower him with love, sex, and attention. Sarge and Titus
will spoil him rotten,” I said.
“Nooo!” Big Beryl said incredulously, “I’d say that was pert-damn
important, Son. If anyone deserves a little happiness it’s Zack,
and the slave we save couldn’t be getting a finer master," he
allowed.
Hear, hear’s, went around the room. I had to agree.
“This is the 'happening' I saw for Master Zack. I told him his
life was going to improve ten fold very shortly. I couldn’t see
everything then, but it hit me in the kitchen a minute ago,” I
said.
“Come to think of it, did you guys notice the way Sarge doted over
Button all afternoon at Master Earl’s?” Chief asked. “Button was
all over Titus, playing with his cock and plug. Titus seemed to be
enjoying his attention as well.”
“I damn sure noticed,” Blaine agreed.
“Yeah, me too,” Master Earl said, “I didn’t think anything about
it then, but I know under that gruff, hard nosed exterior of
Sarge’s beats a heart of tulle,” he allowed. We laughed at Master
Earl’s somewhat unusual description of Sarge.
“We’re suppose to look mean and everyone wear bandannas so there’s
no doubt we’re together. Dad, you and Blaine were sent for
strength of numbers and you need to plan on staying over tonight,
here on the mountain. There’s something you have to help with
later this evening or tomorrow. I’ll make up one of the bedrooms
for you after brunch,” I said.
We carried our food outdoors to the picnic table under the huge
Avocado tree. It was a nice warm summer’s morning. We ate, drank,
and enjoyed each others company. During coffee it hit me,
“Did anybody call Yoshie to make sure he’s gonna’ be on duty at
the hospital this afternoon?” I asked.
“I’ll do it now,” said Master Earl. He returned in a minute and
confirmed Yohsie would be on duty from two ‘til ten in the
evening. “I didn’t think it would hurt to tell Sam and Yoshie the
details, and they have no doubt we’ll be at the hospital. Sam
asked if we needed him. I thanked him, but told him we have enough
troops to clear the damn bar. He said if we had Jim and Beryl that
would be enough,” Master Earl said. Everyone shared a laugh.
I went upstairs and fixed up the bedroom across from the Dungeon
Master’s. Chief and Blaine gave me a hand. Hell, in this family
everyone pitches in. Things get done. You have fun doing it.
Big Jim unrolled the large six by eight piece of foam and set it
in the sun to air. I vacuumed it good, and Chief and I put it on
an old blanket Master Jeb gave us to use. He gave us a couple
extra to cover the pad and as a throw if it got chilly. We were
set and ready to roll by four o’clock. The dungeon master removed
my collar and plug and Big Beryl removed Blaine’s.
We were wearing our bandannas. All colors. But we tied them
all the same so there was no doubt we were together. For some
reason, it was important. I reminded Master Jeb of the Italian
food I left in the fridge for him. All he had to do was warm it
up. He wanted to go with us in the worst way. He hugged and kissed
me for luck. “You won’t need it. What you guys are doing is right,
you’re saving a life. Wes won’t let anything happen to you; vaya
con Dios, Gentlemen. Give my love to Alex,” Master Jeb said.
We left right at four o’clock. We didn’t want to arrive too early,
but fashionably late to make an entrance. I rode in the truck with
the dungeon master. We followed Beryl, Blaine, Master Earl, and
Chief down the freeway. The off ramp was near the bar and we were
there in about thirty minutes. Big Jim was in a randy mood,
but he was serious about what we had to do. We designated him to
grab the kid and let us do the rest.
We arrived and paid the entry fee for a charity of some kind. Alex
and Glenn saw us walk in and Alex lit up like a Christmas tree. He
insisted on buying us a beer and sent Glenn and me to get them.
Glenn paid and I helped him bring them back to our group. Beryl
and Blaine had a beer. Master Earl and Chief had a Coke. The
dungeon master and I had Calastoga Waters. I wanted to be sharp,
and I think the other guys did, too. Beryl and Blaine were more
used to drinking than we were. The afternoon progressed and Alex
couldn’t thank us enough for coming. He complimented us on our
leathers and bandannas.
“You guys look mean but hot. Every queen here is pissing their
pants,” he said. We laughed. “Dungeon Master,” he spoke to
Big Jim, “I'm so proud and honored you and your slave came today
and Master Earl, what can I say but 'thank you,' sir.” They patted
him on the back and put an arm around him. Alex was in heaven.
Blaine and I kept looking. We didn’t have to wait long. Will and
his master were checking in at the door. Blaine recognized him
first. I pointed him out to Chief, but he still didn’t recognize
him. We carefully pointed him out to our group. His master walked
by us. Alex knew him and introduced him as Brad. I shook his hand.
He took my hand like he was offering a dead fish, and got a
feeling he was a self-centered, mean spirited little bastard. He
wouldn’t introduce his slave. To our group’s delight, I pushed.
“And who is this fine looking young man with you, Brad?” I asked.
“Oh, him, he’s nobody, he’s just one of my slaves,” he tossed off.
He wasn’t going to introduce me. I was determined to do a run
around the end zone. I pushed the self-important little queen out
of the way and stuck my hand out to his slave. The smaller
handsome young man took my hand, “Hello, Blake, long time no see.
Remember me, ‘Br’er Rabbit’?”
“Beau? Beau James? Is it really you?” he asked. He looked at me
and a big smile came over him. He threw his arms around my
neck and kissed me.
“Attention, Corporal Blake!” he turned and saw Blaine.
“Lieutenant Kelley? Oh, my God!” he exclaimed. He jumped into
Blaine’s arms, hugged, and kissed him, too.
“Master Brad, these guys are the men I told you about who were in
Nam with me, sir,” he said to his master with enthusiasm and joy.
“Did I give you permission to speak to them, Slave?” the asshole
barked at him.
“Well, no, sir, but master...”
“I asked you a question, Slave!" Brad shouted, "I didn’t give them
permission to speak to you, and I didn’t give you permission to
speak to them. Did I slave?” Brad looked at Will with a look of
irrational hate filled meanness.
Will lowered his head, tears ran down his handsome face, and he
answered meekly. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” he said like his heart
was broken.
“You’re sorry about a lot of things, Slave. You’re a sorry slave.
As a matter of fact you give the term ‘sorry’ new dimensions. You
can’t do a damn thing right. I’ll take care of you later. Come
on,” Brad commanded.
“For Christ sake, you pompous little asshole, he was my friend in
Nam and this man was his commanding officer. I didn’t fight over
there and shed my blood to come back, and allow some phony,
little, two-bit cocksuck'n leather fairy tell me whether I can
talk with my friend or not. Unless you missed a day in
history class, this is America where all men are free. You gotta’
lot to learn, fuck-face, but not on my time,” I growled at him
with a voice that intimidate even me.
“Obviously you know nothing about master/slave relationships.
Allow me to tell you about the facts of life you missed, you dime
store, imitation scooter trash. This is a man’s bar where most of
the men own slaves. He’s my slave and you better fucking learn to
respect it if you know what’s good for you. He gave up
non-essentials like you when he became my slave. He doesn’t need
you for a friend, and I sure as Hell don’t either. If you don’t
like it, find yourself a fluffy sweater bar where you belong.
Leave us real men alone.” Brad hissed.
“Real men? Where? Other than my family, I don't see a one,” I shot
back looking all around. “Surely you can't be talking about
yourself, Shirley?" I laughed, "All that imitation leather drag
you got on don’t make you no man, you piss-ant. I could kick your
Naugahyde covered faggot ass with one hand tied behind me. Why,
you nelly little piece of shit, you give the term ‘Puss in Boots’
new dimensions.”
Everyone broke up on that one, and Brad knew he’d been bested. He
turned on his heel like a pissed queen with his nose in the air
and stomped off. To add insult to injury, everyone laughed at him.
Will turned and had an apologetic look on his face. I waved,
smiled at him, and Blaine blew him a kiss.
Beryl was laughing his ass off. “Woah, fuck, Beau, Darlin,’ that
tongue of yours should be registered as a lethal weapon. I’m sure
you drew blood. She looked just like that witch after Dorothy
threw a bucket of water on her. She was one pissed off lady,”
Beryl allowed. He was really enjoying Brad’s discomfort. Our whole
group was laughing hardy. Everyone around us was laughing at Big
Beryl. I loved that old man. He just shook his head still laughing
muttering, “Doesn’t know anything about master/slave relationships
my ass,” then he laughed some more.
Alex apologized for his friend and said he was a temperamental
guy. Alex was not amused. Brad was rude to his friends. Alex went
to talk to him. Glenn tagged along.
Big Beryl broke us up again, “Fuck! Let’s just kidnap the little
shit and get out of here. What could that faggot do about it? That
queen don’t know what he’s got nor does he care to find out. He’s
a user,” Beryl declared. We laughed nervously.
Everyone around us was patting me on the back saying, “Way to go,
Tiger! Way to tell that prissy queen off!”
“Let’s move closer to their group,” Master Earl said.
We moved closer to them within earshot. Queen Brad raised his
voice so everyone could hear what a strong, in control, master he
was. “I don’t give a shit who your asshole friends are, Alex. They
don’t fuck with my slave without my permission,” he yelled at
Alex.
Everyone in our group patted me on the back and said, “Well
done, Beau! Way to go!”
I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing. The afternoon wore on, and
the contest began. It was strange. Rather than have judges,
the winner was the man who got the loudest reaction from the
crowd. We were a party of six, loud men. The crowd joined in our
loudness because we were so enthusiastic for Alex to win. We
yelled, whistled, stomped, applauded for Alex, and he won. He was
thrilled and we were complimenting him on how well he did.
“You men know as well as I do, I wouldn’t have won if you hadn’t
come to cheer for me. I’m really grateful," he said. He bought us
another round of drinks. Blaine and Glenn went to retrieve them.
One of Brad’s friends entered the contest, but even though his
little group yelled and screamed for him, they were no match for
our clique. Besides, the crowd heard the earlier encounter and
were with us to see Alex beat Brad’s friend.
Brad was not a happy camper. (It's difficult to 'camp' in leather
drag and is so not-butch.) Alex stood with us after he won the
contest and all sorts of old friends came around to congratulate
him and wish him well. Some, he said, hadn’t spoken to him in
years. He said they were trying like Hell to wrangle introductions
to us. We laughed and put our arms around him. Out of the corner
of my eye I saw Brad giving Will money to buy beers for him and
his friends. I leaned to our dungeon master and spoke, “Brad is
sending him for beers. You have to go in and tell Will something
while he’s inside the bar.”
“What’ll I tell him, Beau?” he asked and look at me like he just
jumped out of a plane without a chute.
“What you have to tell him will come to you, I promise. Trust me.
You’ll know,” I said with conviction. Big Jim shrugged like, ‘I
believe you’ and walked into the bar to wait for Will. When Will
walked into the bar Big Jim approached him, “Beau sent me to talk
with you for a minute, Son. Come over here out of the crowd,” he
said taking Will’s arm to lead him.
“But, sir. My master...” Will started to protest.
“Fuck your master, Son. He ain’t no real master, but I am. Now
listen to me, you little shit, what I’m about to tell you is
important,” he growled. Big Jim physically lifted Will and carried
him to the corner. Big Jim set him on a beer crate high enough to
look him directly in the eyes. “Listen to me, Son, listen very
carefully. I mean you no harm, I won’t hurt you, I’ve been sent to
help you, maybe even save your life. If I should ask you a
question this afternoon under stressful conditions you must answer
loudly, “Yes, Master, I do! Got that?” Will nodded he understood.
“Trust me, Son, it may save your life to say those words. Do you
understand me?” he asked forcefully.
“I think so, sir, but...” Will started to protest.
“No buts, Son! This is important! If you want to live, you’ll do
exactly as I say when the time comes, and you will know when it
happens,” Big Jim stressed then added, “Now, go on with you and
remember, I’m the good guy with the white hat and horse,” he said
gently, patted him on the butt, and sent him on his way. Will was
visibly shaken. A giant man just scared the crap out of him.
But there was something about the giant he wanted to know more
about. There was a peace about the big man Will had never known,
and he desperately wanted it for himself. Was this giant a huge
angel in leather? Will started to walk away. He took several
steps, turned, paused for a moment to look into the eyes of the
giant and saw only goodness and compassion. He ran back to Big
Jim’s arms and hugged him. “For some reason, I trust you, sir. A
voice in my head just told to listen to this man and obey him. I
will obey you, Master. Thank you, sir,” he said.
“Good for you, Son,” Big Jim kissed him gently.
The dungeon master returned to Beau and stood next to him for a
minute without saying anything. “I don’t know why I said
what I said but...” Big Jim said and shrugged his huge shoulders.
“Did you tell him to say, ‘Yes, Master, I do!’?” I asked.
Big Jim’s knees almost went out, and he sat down on a nearby bar
stool. “Damn, Beau, how do you do that?” he asked.
“It came to me the minute you walked away, but I knew Wes would
tell you the right thing to tell him,” I replied.
“That’s exactly what I told him,” Jim said.
Brad and his four buddies had quite a lot to drink. I was
counting. Will returned with the drink order and passed the beers
around.
“Did you get the matches for my cigar, Slave?” Brad asked.
“I forgot, sir, I’ll go right now and get them, sir,” Will
apologized.
“Fuck you, you worthless piece of shit. On your knees, Slave,”
Brad commanded.
Will knelt before Brad and lowered his eyes. Brad handed his beer
to his buddy and brought his knee up as hard as he could into
Will’s chest. I heard Will’s ribs crack from the force of the
impact. It knocked the air out of Will’s lungs, and he fell
over in pain. “Please, Master, I’m so sorry, it won’t happen
again. Please have mercy, Master,” he cried out in pain.
Brad used his big heavy steel toed boots and started kicking Will
in the ribs, his groin, and his head. Will tried to protect
himself by rolling up into a fetal position and covering his head
with his arms. His attempt to protect himself only enraged Brad
more.
“NOW!” I yelled to Chief and Blaine. I put my heavy boot squarely
in Brad’s butt and shoved him into his buddies. Two fell down with
Brad, and the other two moved out of the way. I saw the dungeon
master go for Will. He scooped him up in his arms to get him out
of harms way and comfort him.
“Let’s see how you like some of that abuse you fucking nelly
queen,” I yelled at Brad as he went flying, ass over teakettle,
into his friends.
The worst thing you can do is call a self-important leather fairy
a 'queen.' Brad saw red, which is exactly what I wanted, because
when they get mad they can’t coordinate. He yelled at me, “Nobody
does that to Brad Parker and gets away with it!" he hissed at me
like Medusa Gorgon.
“Bring it on you two-bit faggot. I’ll rip your Goddamn head off
and shit down your neck,” I growled at him.
Were did that come from? Hell, I almost scared myself. Brad rushed
at me and took a huge hay-maker of a swing. I was collected and
ducked. I went straight for his nose and broke it. I heard it
crunch when I hit him. His buddies collected themselves, set their
beers down, and moved together like they were getting ready to
back up Brad. Chief and Blaine moved in behind me. Master
Earl and Big Beryl were on the other side of them.
“If you gentlemen are looking to get you asses kicked, bring it
on,” Master Earl said in his best Officer Masters commanding
voice, “Just remember, when we put you down, you’ll stay down.”
Impressed the shit out of me. Shivered me timbers, he did. I was
proud of my master. They looked at each other and the leader
spoke, “Naw, this is Brad’s fight. He always was an irrational hot
head.”
Brad got up, glared at his friends, and saw the dungeon master
holding Will. “Put my slave down, right now, you big piece of
shit. He’s my property. He’s my slave. Put him
down...now! DID YOU HEAR ME?” Brad asked enraged, his face
blood-red with anger.
Big Jim looked directly into Will’s eyes and in a loud clear
voice, so all could hear, “You wanna’ be a real master’s slave,
Son?” he asked loud and clear.
“Yes, Master, I do,” Will replied. Will came through and said it
loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Tough shit, pussy-lips, he’s my slave now. He ain’t your slave no
more, you low life cowardly bastard,” the dungeon master growled
at him like a mother Grizzly protecting her young.
Brad pushed his luck and ran at the dungeon master screaming. I
simply put my boot out and tripped him. He made an emergency three
point landing on the concrete which knocked the wind out of him
and ushered more blood out of his already amply bleeding nose. The
idiot got up and ran at me again. That’s why I love to get someone
enraged in a fight. They can’t think straight and overreact. I
stood still until he almost got to me and side-stepped him.
Brad fell from his own miscalculation. I was on top of him in an
instant pounding him in the face with my fists. His nose was
already bloody, but I was determined to give him two black eyes to
sport for his friends. He started crying, begging me to stop. I
started mocking him. “Why you crying, cunt-face? Don’t you like
abuse? A big man like you ought a’ be able to take what he dishes
out,” I yelled at him. Whaap! I hit him a good one. I’ll
admit I was enjoying this.
“You didn’t stop when Will cried for mercy, you low life son of a
bitch. Why should I stop for you? How do you like being on
the other end of abuse, you phony faggot? You want me to stop, ask
me like a slave you coward,” I demanded. Whopp! I hit him again.
“Please, sir,” he managed to squeak out like the rat he was.
“I didn’t HEAR you, pussy-lips,” I said. Whaop!! I hit him
again.
“PLEASE, SIR!” he yelled.
“Like a slave I said!” I yelled back. Whoaap! Damned if his
head bounced on the pavement on that one.
“PLEASE, MASTER, SIR!” he yelled.
“That’s better, Slave,” I replied.
I felt Master Earl and Blaine on either side of me lifting me off
him. “Come on, Beau, he’s the worst kind of human filth. He’s no
more than a piece of dog shit. He ain't worth the effort. Don’t
dirty yourself anymore. He’s a poor excuse for a man,” Master Earl
said.
“He’s NOT a man,” Someone in the crowd said, “He’s a fucking
prissy queen in leather drag. They just pulled the real man
off of him,” he said.
I turned to the guy and said, “Thanks, Friend. Listen carefully,”
I spoke to the crowd, “This man you’re looking at is the slave to
that real big man holding Will,” I pointed to Big Jim and smiled,
“he's my master, I'm his slave, and I’m damn proud it. So, queeny
here, the leather dress-up fairy just done got her effeminate butt
stomped by a ‘slave’ who made her call him ‘Master’! Let the son
of a bitch live with that,” I crowed.
I said it loud enough for Brad and his buddies to hear. The crowd
that was left laughed at Brad getting his ass kicked by a slave.
It just wasn’t Brad’s day. That’s really Hell for a control
freak. Someone in the crowd, I swear it was Alex, started
applauding. Another picked it up. Then another until the place was
going nuts applauding for us. Brad was bleeding pretty bad and
still yelling at me, “I’ll sue your ass off, you son of a
bitch!” he yelled.
“Your next slave better be a rich one then, ‘cause a queen like
you ain’t got two nickels to rub together,” I replied. Everyone
laughed at Brad.
“Ouch, that was a good one, Beau,” Big Beryl laughed, “You’d think
the the ignorant piece of shit would learn to keep his mouth
shut,” he said shaking his head as he laughed.
The Long Beach Police arrived. Master Earl flashed his badge and
proceeded to tell them what went on. They said they couldn’t take
Brad to jail unless Will agreed to press charges for assault and
battery. “He was trying to kill the kid with steel-toed
boots,” Master Earl pressed the Cop.
“You got steel-toed boots on, Mister?” the Cop asked Brad.
“Yeah, what of it?” he snapped back.
“Hands behind your back. You’re under arrest for assault with a
deadly weapon,” the officer commanded.
“You’re crazy. My Boots? Deadly weapons?” Brad sputtered.
“You should check the law before you attempt to kick someones head
in with those, sir,” the officer said as he locked the cuffs
behind Brad’s back.
The dungeon master was still holding Will and the Police wanted to
talk with him. The main officer walked up to them. “Do you
wanna’ press charges, Son?” he asked.
Will looked at the the big man holding him and our Dungeon Master
nodded. “Yes, sir, I will,” he said. The officer took his name,
address and phone number. Big Jim gave them ours. “He’ll be
staying with me, Officer. He’s hurt, we have to get him to a
doctor as soon as possible,” Master Jim said.
“We’ll need a full medical report from the examining physician,”
the officer said.
“You’ll have it, sir,” the dungeon master assured him.
They led Brad away and people started leaving the bar in droves.
They wanted no part of the police. The police were good men. They
knew the score and didn’t give a shit. They were there to do their
job.
“Beau, bring the truck around to the side,” Big Jim handed me the
keys. I ran to the back lot and got the truck. Chief opened the
back for Big Jim, and he gently laid Will out in the bed of the
truck.
One of the cops looked in the back of the truck. “Looks to me like
you men were ready for this,” he observed correctly.
“Coincidence,” the Dungeon Master shrugged and smiled at the
officer. He turned and spoke to me, “You ride back here with him,
Beau, and I’ll drive. I know how to get to Queen of Angeles.
Find out about medical insurance and whatever. You know the
drill,” Big Jim commanded.
God, I loved that big take-charge man. Dungeon Master was the
perfect appellation for him. Beryl, Blaine, and Master Earl
were saying goodbye to Alex and apologizing for leaving, but they
wanted to see the kid to the hospital. Alex asked if he and Glenn
could ride along. “Sure,” said Master Earl, “Glad to have
you.”
There wasn’t much traffic for a Sunday evening and we made it to
the hospital in good time. Poor Will was suffering but didn’t say
anything. I wanted to check him out, but he was too sore. I
covered him with a blanket. “Just like old times, huh, Beau?" he
asked, "I’m sorry you and Kelley found out I’m a slave.”
“So are we, Dear-heart. Blaine and I are slaves, too, Will. That
big man with the gray-white beard is Blaine’s Master and my
master’s driving the truck. My other master was the good looking
man with the violet eyes. The one up front will be your new master
for a while. You’re gonna’ be my little brother now,” I smiled at
him.
“That’s too good to be true, Beau; nothing good ever happens to
me,” he lamented.
“Well, your lucked just changed, Will. You got family now. You
won’t understand right away but you will. Now, lie there and be
quiet unless you start to hurt really bad. Then let me know,
okay?” I asked. He nodded to me.
“You serve two masters, Beau?” he asked.
“Three actually. You’ll understand after a while, and it’ll all
make sense to you, I promise,” I tried to ease his mind.
“Damn, I can’t even serve one,” he said and started crying
“It weren’t your fault, Will. That fairy ain’t no master. None of
the masters I know are like that. None of the masters in my
family would do what he done to you. Being mean spirited and cruel
is not what being a master is about, Will. Brad and his ilk are
pretenders. They have no concept of how we live our lives,” I told
him
“You and Chief were both Navy corpsmen?” he asked.
“Right,” I replied.
“You came for me today, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Right again, Sprout,” I said.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“How did you know we came for you?” I asked in reply.
“It just popped into my head. A voice but not a voice; I don’t
know how to explain it. I heard the voice before somewhere, long
ago. The voice of someone I once knew, and the big man told me to
say those words if I wanted to live. How could he know what I
should say if he didn’t already know?” he asked.
“Well, that’s how we knew. I heard a small voice in the night. It
just popped into my head. Ever since Nam its happened to me. I
thought I was going crazy. I’d hear voices telling me to do this
or not to do that. Well, I had a dream last night about you dying
in a gay leather bar in Long Beach. That bar was the only
leather bar down here. Tell me, did the voice you heard have a
Southern accent?” I asked.
“Why, yes, Beau. Now I think about it, it did. You know who it
was, don’t chu?” he asked.
“Uh-huh, I’ll tell you later, but let’s get you taken care of
first,” I said.
“You have a good master for me, too, don’t you, Beau?” he asked.
“One of the best men on this planet, Will. You need him, and he
needs you. He’s a man I love and admire very much. I would be
honored to call him my master. You will fall in love with him at
first sight, I promise. You will become the pride of his life, and
he will cherish you like no other,” I told him.
“Is he a real master, Beau?” Will asked.
“He is, indeed, Cowboy. A strong, demanding, but compassionate and
protective, loving man, the very best kind of master. You would
never find him in a bar like that,” I assured him.
Will started crying, and wanted me to hold him. I did as gently as
I could, but he was hurting bad. We were on the downtown
interchange, and I knew it wouldn’t be long to the hospital. We
arrived at the emergency entrance, and Yoshie was there with a
gurney. We slipped a carry sling under Will and four of us lifted
him out of the truck onto the gurney. Yoshie was all business. He
wanted to know exactly the time Will’s wounds occurred. I told him
and he made a note of it.
“Can Master Jim and I come in with him, Yoshie?” I asked.
“Sure, come on. Your his family now,” Yoshie said and grinned.
“You know this doctor, Beau?” Will asked.
“He’s my brother, Will. Just like you,” I said.
“Oohh!” Will got the message.
“He’s got VA and Blue Cross, Yoshie,” I said and handed Yoshie his
card. I had Will Blake’s thin wallet.
“No problem then. Let me take a look and get some X-rays. You guys
stay with him, and I’ll get the resident to give me a hand. Yoshie
returned with a fine looking big man about our age. He looked like
he could be a linebacker for the Rams. He checked out Will’s eyes
and mumbled something to Yoshie. He was leaning over him and
checking the bruises on his face.
“You leather boys play pretty rough, Son. I’d never treat my slave
this way, I garan-damn-tee-ya,” he said like it was the most
natural comment in the world for him to make. Yoshie rolled his
eyes toward heaven, looked surprised and just shook his head. I
chuckled. Big Jim turned his head the other way, laughing. They
took x-rays and got them back. The two doctors made copious notes
and then talked to us and Will. “He’s got three broken ribs on his
right side and four on his left. It’s a wonder one of them or more
didn’t puncture his lung. Whoever did this, if they kicked him one
more time, he wouldn’t be alive right now.
There’s not a lot we can do for broken ribs but tape him up tight
so they're forced back together. For the first week he will
be in Hell. It will hurt him bad. Agony type bad, but we’ll give
him enough pain medication to see him through the first week then
he has to come back for more x-rays to see if he’s knitting
properly. He’s going to have one Hell of a black eye on his left
side and probably a blood filled eye around the whites of his
right eye for several days. Keep him in low light, and if the
blood doesn’t start to go away after three or four days bring him
back immediately," he said.
Since there was a police report filed on the case they took
numerous color photos of Will’s head, chest and groin. His wounds
turned a nasty, dark purple color with yellowish tinges.
“His left arm is also broken. We’ll have to set it and cast it.
He’s going to be here several hours, but we don’t think he needs
to be admitted. He probably would feel better and more comfortable
with you men. Which of you men is his master?” Big Jim raised his
hand. “You didn’t do this to him, I know. You’re his new master,
right?” he asked with a grin.
“Yes, sir, as of a couple of hours ago,” Big Jim replied.
“I’d say you found yourself a fine new master, Son,” the doctor
said.
Yoshie couldn’t believe this resident was being so open. The man
knew the score. Maybe he was a master himself or had friends in
the leather community. He didn’t give a shit. He seemed to enjoy
us. He found out I was a corpsman in Nam, and he instructed me
about Will’s care.
“Out of curiosity, how did you know Big Jim didn’t do this to
him?” I asked.
“Big men don’t do this kind a’ shit. I’m one, as you can see. We
don’t have, too. We don’t have anything to prove that way. Small
men? Well, that’s different,” he said. He winked at the Dungeon
Master who nodded his agreement. “We’re gonna’ shoot him up with
Demerol to fix him up so why don’t you gentlemen go have dinner,
come back in a couple of hours, and he’ll be ready to go home with
you,” I could see Will began to get frightened.
“Can I stay with him, Doc?” I asked, "We's buddies in Nam,
together."
“Sure, just have your friends bring you back some take out, and
you can eat while someone else holds his hand. I get the feeling
he don’t want you men out of his sight,” he said.
Damn, I thought, this Doctor was a considerate and caring man. Not
my experience with the doctors in Nam. Most were pompous,
self-centered assholes. They didn’t want to do anymore than they
absolutely had to. Big Jim wanted to stay too and told everyone to
go home. We would stay and bring him home after he was fixed up.
Earl D. had to go to work the next day and Big Jim would call as
soon as we got home. He thanked Alex and Glenn for coming, but
they may as well go home, too. He took their phone number and
promised to call. Big Jim gave everyone the run down on how Will
was and asked Beryl and Blaine to stay at Mt. Washington because
we might need help to get his things before the bastard changes
the locks.
They gave Will a shot of Demerol, and he was out of it. Demerol
doesn’t really stop the pain. You know the pain is still there.
You just don’t give a shit. ‘Tape up my broken ribs, sure, no
problem. Gee, you’re cute. What was your name again? Ouch,
that hurt! I don’t care. Go ahead. Do it again, Doc. God, is he
big or what? Linebacker for the Rams someone said. Wonder if he’s
my new master? Wheeeee! Don’t know what this shit is, but I
want a doggie bag to go.’ Will thought to himself.
Yoshie came to us every now and then to give us an update. They
set his arm, and Yoshie did the cast. He said it had to be left on
at least four weeks. The dungeon master and I were impressed with
Yoshie’s professional manner. He was going to be a damn good
doctor. “Is he going to be able to go with us to get his stuff
from that bastard’s house?” Big Jim asked Yoshie.
“Once the Demerol wears off, he should be in pretty good shape.
He’s gonna’ be sore, but he should be able to walk around and tell
you what’s his. If it’s not for too long. The major pain probably
won’t set in until tomorrow morning. Be sure and give him one of
the pain pills before he goes to sleep, so he’ll have some in his
system come morning. Don’t wait ‘til morning to start because he
isn’t going to be able to move in any direction without severe
pain. Broken ribs and back injuries can be excruciating,” Doctor
Yoshie explained.
“I just called dad to give him an update,” Yoshie said, “He
doesn’t doubt you anymore, Beau. I never did, you found me waiting
by the door, didn’t you?” Yoshie gave me a hug right there.
“We really appreciate you and the other doc’s help,” I said.
About that time the resident bear came strolling up and squatted
down by Will in his wheelchair. “Now, young man, as for you,
you be a good slave and mind this big man, your new master. Stick
with big people and their friends and you won’t go wrong,” he
admonished the young man. He patted Will on his good arm and
smiled.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Will spoke softly, “you’ve been awfully good
to me, sir, and I appreciate it.”
“It’s my job, Son, but sometimes taking care of a handsome young
slave-boy in distress is more pleasure than work. As for you,
heroes,” he motioned toward us, “take him home and give him what
he needs, lots of love and attention. I promise he will heal twice
as fast, you’ll see, mark my word,” Doctor Bear said to us. They
finally finished with him and wheeled him out to the side entrance
where we had the truck waiting.
Will was just beginning to come down from the Demerol high and was
feeling pretty bad. We put him in the back. He told me he wanted
to sleep and for me to ride up front with Master Jim. I told him
'no,' I was going to ride with him. Chief had a small, sliding
window in the back of the truck cab you could open to pass things
through to the camper shell. Master Jim opened it and we were able
to communicate. Will drifted off to sleep as soon as we got
underway.
“If we can manage, we should get Jeb’s truck, Beryl, Blaine, you,
and I go over to his place and get his things for him. Maybe he
doesn’t have that much,” said Big Jim.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk with him about what he has or
where. Let’s get him back to the mountain, get him a cup of
coffee, and talk with him,” I said.
We were about halfway home and Will woke up. He was confused,
disoriented, and frightened. I held him in my arms and talked
softly to him. He started crying, and I soothed him. God knows, I
had the same done for me so many times by these big men who never
once told me real men don’t cry. I came to find out that real men
do, indeed, cry.
“Can you answer some questions for me, Will?” I asked.
“I think so, Beau,” he replied.
“Do you have a lot of personal possessions at Brad’s place?” I
asked.
“No, he made me get rid of most of my things. I have about a box
full of things important to me; oh, yes, and my bike’s locked in
his garage. He wouldn’t let me ride it. Said slaves don’t ride
bikes. I have keys to the house, but he never would give me
a key to the garage,” he replied.
We arrived at Mt. Washington and everyone came out to help us. Big
Jim and I helped him ease down from the truck bed. You could tell
he was in a lot of pain. “Come on, Tiger, I’ll give you a lift,”
Big Jim said, and lifted him easily into his big arms. The dungeon
master stole a kiss as he carried Will into the living room where
Master Jeb was waiting. Will was focusing on the room and the men
around him. Will saw Master Jeb. He never laid eyes on Jeb before
but saw a good looking, strong, masculine face with piercing blue
eyes that was hurting for him, held out his one good arm to him
and Jeb had him in his arms holding him as he cried.
I remembered how it felt to cry in those big forgiving arms. Our
hearts were breaking but Master Jeb neither told him to stop nor
scolded him for crying. He let Will get it out and held him like
he would never let him go. He didn’t let go of Will until he
couldn’t cry anymore. I got him a cup of coffee. He seemed to know
it would clear his head. He had to hug Chief, Blaine, and Big
Beryl, and of course, his new master. He thanked us and wanted to
walk into the kitchen where Chief and Blaine were dishing up more
take out for us. He even managed to eat a little.
Finally he told everyone what he told me in the truck. He had one
box of personal stuff and his bike. He told us his bike was locked
in Brad’s garage, but he didn’t have a key. He knew where he kept
the keys for his bike but not for the garage. He had a key to get
in and out of the house.
“Can you go back over there with us this evening to get your
things? We’ll throw your bike on the back of the truck and worry
about it later. We can get into the garage, don’t worry
about that,” Master Jim said. Will assured us he thought he could.
Afterwards, he wanted to come back to the mountain and collapse.
“If that’s all right with you, Master Jim,” he added respectfully
looking at the giant.
“Of course it’s all right with your master, Son. You’re welcome
here. No one will hurt you. You’re safe now. These men are only a
small part of your new family,” said Master Jim.
Will thought he could make the trip to his old residence and
wanted to while Brad was away. He was afraid of Brad and well he
should be. The son of a bitch almost killed him. Could he ride in
the back like before? I told him yes, I’d ride with him. Chief
wanted to go even though it was going on ten o’clock and he had to
go to work the next morning. I told him we had enough people with
the four of us, but he insisted. So, off we went to Silverlake
with both trucks. We found the place easily enough and quietly
entered. Brad was still in jail and probably having a hard time
raising bail on a felony charge. We got Will’s stuff and found his
bike keys.
Big Jim took his big bolt cutters and cut the lock to the garage
like it was a piece of hot butter. We opened the garage and there
was Will’s bike. A brand new, white Harley Sportster, a
beautiful bike. We rolled it out to Jeb’s truck and the four of us
had no problem lifting it on. Brad’s big Harley was in the garage.
“Blaine, Honey, run in the house and bring me a bottle of syrup or
as much sugar as you can find,” Master Beryl commanded his slave.
Blaine returned with a full bottle of black strap molasses. Beryl
poured the entire bottle in the gas tank of Brad’s bike. We got
all of Will’s leathers, boots and riding gear. He didn’t have a
lot or just didn’t feel like taking a lot. We got everything
loaded and drove back to Mt. Washington. We arrived at the
mountain about midnight. Chief excused himself and went to bed. I
helped Will into the house and into one of the downstairs
bedrooms. The other men got his bike and personal stuff out of the
truck and into the garage.
Blaine and I already made up the bed in the downstairs bedroom. It
had its on bathroom. We thought it would be easier for him if he
had to get up during the night. I was going to stay with him. Big
Jim insisted on staying, too. We got our clothes off and took his
off. He was so tired from emotional exhaustion and the pain, he
could barely hold his eyes open. Big Jim and I looked at the small
bed, then looked at each other. “Come on, Beaver, let me carry him
up to our room, we’ll be more comfortable there,” the Dungeon
Master said. I had to agree. Big Jim swept him up in his arms and
we paraded naked through the house and up the stairs to the Bear’s
Lair.
When Will saw the huge bed and got a good look at the two muscular
hunks who were going to sleep with him he asked, “Am I dead? Is
this heaven? Are you guys angels?” he asked.
I answered ‘no’ to all three questions. “Then I must be dreaming.
I’ve never seen two more gorgeous men in my life, and I get to
sleep between them. It was worth every broken rib,” he
said. The dungeon Master and I laughed, kissed
him, and told him to go to sleep.
I said a prayer of thanks for Wes warning us to save this
beautiful young man. Will was good looking, blond hair, blue eyes,
average height, nice equipment, which was admirable and was in
goodly proportion to his perfect young body. He had a sweet
personality, polite, and well mannered. How anyone could be cruel
to this treasure was beyond me. I hoped Brad rotted in jail for
what he did. He almost killed Will. I laughed to myself as I woke
once during the night to check on him and found him curled up in
the giant’s arms feeling safer and more loved than he had in three
years.
I warned everyone to say nothing about who Will was other than the
fact we rescued him. If something happened between Master Zack and
him I wanted it to be from their own hearts they discovered each
other and not because of suggestion. Surprisingly, everyone agreed
nature should take its course. My next weekend was to be a good
one. I was really looking forward to it. Will should be healed
enough to go with us and meet the family. They will take him to
their hearts. They will help heal his body and spirit with
their love. I had that much faith in them.
Their hearts went out to those in pain or sorrow. They never told
anyone in discomfort to stop feeling sorry for themselves. They
put their hand out and helped pulled them out of the
quagmire. They gave of themselves. They knew the meaning of
the word ‘family.’ You don’t have to be wealthy to give the most
precious of gifts to another human being, the gift of yourself. By
giving that small gift you earn yourself more fortune than the
wealth of any king.
End Chapter 25 ~ The Ties That Bind
Copyright ~ © ~ 2000 ~ 2015 ~ Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
All Rights Reserved ~
WC = 14263
06/01/2015
* Children’s Prayer: from the operatic masterpiece “Hansel and
Gretel” by Englebert Humperdink