Intro: What's a fairy tale collection without Cinderfella! More story/romance than anything hardcore in this one, sorry. I did quite a bit of research on fairy tale elements and different versions of Cinderella so I think I've come up with a nice mix and a unhealthy dose of QAF, of course! Please read and review and thanks to all my few fantasy fans that are doing so with my other stories. Your reviews keep my pen and fingers moving!

 

 

CINDERFELLA

 

By Bryton4ever71

copyright@Aug/2010

 

Once upon a time, a long time ago, far, far away there was a kingdom that was simply called The Loft.

The Loft was ruled by King Jack and Queen Joan and their son, the handsome Prince Brian. The royal family ruled The Loft in happiness and peace until Prince Brian's thirteenth birthday. It was then that Brian told his parents that he was a homosexual. It didn't go well. King Jack and Queen Joan tried for many years to "fix" Brian. This, of course, had no success. Then, in Brian's sixteenth year, such a calamity arose that Brian's sexual orientation was put on the back burner and the royal family reached an uneasy truce.

A terrible disease swept over the land. Much research was done but no cure was ever found. The disease grew into a plague and became known as FADES. It was known as such because an infected person grew transparent like a ghost and then vanished away entirely. Sometimes it was quick but sometimes the FADES lasted years and years.

Ten years passed. FADES grew worse and still there was no cure. Prince Brian was grown and had turned into a very angry and rebellious young man. He had adopted a fuck-em all attitude and become very promiscuous and uncaring. His motto had become "fucking is for queers, there's no such thing as love. This was very distressing to the king and queen and finally they had a serious talk. They still did not approve of Brian's orientation but they could see he was not going to change so they adopted a "if you can't beat them, join them" attitude and came to a grudging type of acceptance. This they told Prince Brian which he thanked them for but it was still many years before he could forgive them and due to the psychological damage, stayed angry and promiscuous for years after that.

Meanwhile, across town, far enough away so that the castle looked like a toy, there lived a young man named Justin Taylor. Justin came from a rich family. His father and mother owned a large condom company. When Justin was eight, his father died. Two years later, his mother re-married a man named Craig. Craig had two sons of his own named Michael and Ethan. Craig took over the condom company and something strange happened. He didn't run it into the ground but at the same time it stopped bringing in the profits that it used to. And two years after that, Justin's mother, Jennifer caught FADES and began to die. Jennifer's FADES lingered for a number of years but at last, when Justin reached 16, she could tell that her time was near.

Jennifer called Justin to her bedside and said, "My only son, for years I have been slowly FADE-ing, but now, I feel as if my time is near. If there is anything you need to tell me, now would be the time."

"There is one thing. Mother, I have been feeling it in my soul for a long time but I didn't want to say anything in your sickness. But, Mom, if you are on point of death then I want you to know...I'm gay."

"Well, Justin, had I known this before, I might have been a little upset. But I guess there's no point now. Be loud, be proud, be pious and good and it will go well for you."

"But Mother, can I be pious and good AND loud and proud? Is such a thing even possible?"

"Yes, my son. Being gay is who you are but being good is a choice. Choose to be a good boy for me, my son. Also, take this." Jennifer pointed to her treasure box and had Justin take out a small broach made out of hazel wood. She was so transparent she could not open it herself anymore. As it was, she hovered just above her bed, as solid objects had no effect on her anymore.

"A long time ago, your father was on a business trip and found a large piece of hazel wood and whittled this for me. He told me he was drawn to it as metal is drawn to a magnet, and I have always felt the same way. It is my most precious possession. I want you to bury it in the yard as a memorial to me as I fear Craig will do nothing."

"I know he won't. Mother, I know he's your husband but he has a black heart and he does not love me. His sons are also ugly inside and they bully me constantly when you're not around. I fear for my safety when you are gone."

"Plant my memorial, and I think some kind of help will come to you. Good bye my son..." Justin could barely see her as it was but now Jennifer faded away completely and with a ‘pop'! disappeared.

Justin hid the piece of hazel wood and went to inform his step-father that his mother had died. Up until that time, Craig had maintained a pretense of good will for his wife's sake but as soon as he heard the news, all this was dropped and his father showed his true colors.

"I'm going to give you a choice. You're going to work at the condom company and you'll work here or you can just get out and make your own way in the world."

"You're serious. You'd turn me out of doors without a cent?"

"I'm going to when you're eighteen anyway. What's two years difference?"

"My God! You really are a monster! However, since I'd rather not be homeless, I'll accept your terms."

Well, that the gist of the conversation anyway. The real one was filled with yelling and tears and Justin getting knocked around by Michael and Ethan a bit. In the end he had a black eye. Craig always had his sons do the dirty work so he couldn't be charged with child abuse.

And so, began a terrible time for Justin. His stepfather and stepbrothers took away his room and all his nice toys and books and sold them. They took away his nice clothes and shoes and only gave him a simple grayed out tunic, a rope as a girdle and ripped pants to wear. For shoes they gave him wooden shoes, which hurt his feet.

On weekdays, during the day, he worked at the factory doing everything from vacuum sealing the condoms into their packages to sweeping the floor to lighting his stepfather's cigar. Nights and all day on weekends, he was compelled to be the sole house servant. He cooked, cleaned, tended the garden, did repairs, chopped wood, washed the car, and took out the trash. Michael and Ethan did nothing but sleep and eat and read comics and attempt to excel in their singing and music lessons, both of which failed miserably. Michael's singing sounded like someone stepping on a cat's tail and Ethan played the violin in a shrill, screeching way that made Justin want to pull his ears off.

At night when he finally went to sleep, they provided him only with a straw mat in the basement where he slept near the incinerator. The soot and cinders coated him and eventually he tired of trying to wash them out and acquired a black or grey face nearly all the time. His yellow blond hair grayed out and his bright blue eyes lost their luster from all the abuse. He was tired all the time. And because he was covered in soot and cinders all the time, they called him Cinderfella. Despite all this, he bore his abuse with good humor and remained pious and good.

Meanwhile, two days after his mother's death, Justin obeyed her wishes and planted the piece of hazel wood at the back of the back yard. Winter came and snow covered the yard like a white blanket. When spring came a hazel tree grew up. Justin considered it a grave marker and went to visit it often. He was seventeen.

FADES continued to plague The Loft. More research was done and it was discovered that it was sexually transmitted. This meant more condom sales and the Taylors prospered. Do you think Justin saw any of that money that was his, anyway? No sir! His greedy step relatives kept it all, save a small, trust fund kept for him when he turned 18. Strangely enough though, even with the increased condom use, FADES continued to spread unabated.

Finally the time approached when Justin's 18th birthday approached. As he approached his age of ascension, Justin had grown up into a handsome young man. He was small, about 5'8" or so, but his muscles were hard and toned from all his hard work. He had creamy, fair skin, brilliant blue eyes, and short, yellow blond hair. Well, that's how he would have looked if ashes and soot and hard labor hadn't grayed him out. Despite all this, he was far more handsome than his stepbrothers who by this time also worked in the condom company, although in positions far above him. This was saying a lot, because, despite their evil natures, Michael and Ethan were both quite the lookers themselves. Both had dark hair and handsome faces. Ethan had a small goatee on his chin that he thought made him looked distinguished. Justin thought he looked like he'd dipped his chin in the toilet. Plus, he still couldn't play the violin. He screeched the violin so shrill, he attracted cats and he broke strings continually. As for Michael, he continued to break records (and windows) with his singing. His first love continued to be comic books.

Meanwhile, far away at the castle Brian was turning 29. As he grew older, Brian was still pretty promiscuous but he was forced to cut down because of the FADES. But that also made him resentful that he HAD to cut down. He was also accepting more and more ruling responsibilities, which he liked but he felt his parents were still holding out on him and keeping him a prince. One day he went on a tour through The Loft and saw all the misty, ghostly figures wandering through his kingdom living sickly, half lives. He knew something had to be done.

Brian asked for an audience with his parents and was it granted. He strutted into the throne room and cut a fine figure doing so He was an even six feet tall, with ropy, toned muscles and a handsome face that had a constant arrogant sneer on it. He had shiny, short brown hair and eyes that changed color from day to day. They were brown with gold flecks but every day when he awoke they would be gold with brown flecks. Then they would change back to brown. On his head he wore a simple circlet of gold.

"Mother, Father, something must be done. FADES is destroying The Loft. We must find the cause and cure or there will be nothing left when I take the throne."

"Yes, not to mention, that people are dying," said Queen Joan sarcastically.

Brian rolled his eyes. Here we go.

"And what makes you think you are going to take the throne?" asked King Jack, "You are still far too immature."

"Because...I have...a Plan!" said Brian dramatically.

"What is this plan?" asked Queen Joan.

"I have been checking with the FADES Research Foundation. They are nearing an answer. They have discovered that condoms are no protection and even might be instrumental in spreading the disease. I've already ordered testing. But in order to find a definite answer they need a final and rather large infusion of money."

"Of course," said the king.

"It always seems to come down to that," sighed the queen.

"And so..." continued Brian, rolling his eyes again, "I propose we hold a fundraiser. A three-day festival to raise the last of the money. Also, we could offer a reward to anyone who can discover the cause of FADES."

"What sort of reward?" asked his parents.

Why, a date and a stellar fuck session with me, of course," replied Brian arrogantly.

His parents held each other and laughed uproariously.

Brian frowned. "And just what is so funny?" he demanded.

"Oh, Brian! That's not a reward! That's a bottle of Jim Beam and a Saturday night," said Queen Joan, wiping away a tear. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"I think I have an idea that will fix everything," said the king, "Have your festival and raise your money. But you must use this opportunity to find true love and a groom instead of just another...date."

"Why don't you just ask me to grow wings and fly?" grumbled Brian resentfully, "I fuck. Love is for straights and munchers. There's no such thing."

"So you keep telling yourself. But it's not true. Love is simply fucking with maturity and commitment. Look, you know, your mother and I have come to a grudging acceptance to the fact you are going to choose a groom instead of a bride. The least you can do is give this plan a chance. And in return, if you manage to choose yourself a br - uh, partner...it'll show me you are mature enough to ascend the throne!

"Really! You'll let me take the throne? OK, you got yourself a deal!"

"Jack! Are you sure?" worried Queen Joan.

"Joan...quiet!" He whispered, "Early retirement!"

"Ohhh, good point," she said, "OK, I'm in."

And so, word of the festival was spread throughout The Loft. The first night was to be a White Party. The second night was to be a Leather Ball. The third and final night would be a formal Ball. It was decreed that straight and gay couples were welcome but all eligible men were especially invited for it was decreed that the Prince was seeking a partner in marriage. Furthermore, anyone with information leading to the cause of FADES would receive a handsome monetary reward and the title of Duke or Duchess.

The Taylors were delighted to hear the news and began to prepare for the festival at once. Of course, this meant Justin began to prepare them. He cut and brushed their hair, shined their shoes and laid out their clothes.

"Please stepfather, I want to go to the White Party too. Let me come with you. For once we could do something as a family."

The others just laughed as if that was the best joke they had heard in years. Which it was.

Michael and Ethan were advancing on Justin ready to give his kidneys a workout, when suddenly Craig held up a hand.

"Hold it boys! OK Justin, I'll make you a deal. The prince had ordered us to beef up testing our condoms for quality. I'll have a box of a thousand condoms shipped here and if you can inspect all of them in an hour, I'll provide you with a white suit to go to the Ball."

"What! That's impossible!"

"Take it or leave it," Craig said pitilessly.

"Fine! I'll take it!"

So Craig had the box shipped and Justin took it out in the yard and got started. He held each one up to the sunlight looking for pinholes but progress was painfully slow.

At last, he collapsed back in despair and leaned against the young hazel tree.

His blue eyes were bright with sorrow. "Oh Mom, I sure miss you. I wish there was a better way to do this. I sure need help."

Suddenly, a tiny spider dropped down in front of him on its silken thread. Then another. Then another. And then the air and tree and even his tunic seemed to be crawling with spiders.

At first, Justin was a little creeped out. But, being a guy, he knew he could take a few creepy crawlies without jumping around and screaming like a little girl. So he just swallowed his fear and let them ramble all over him and drop from the branches.

But wait a minute! They weren't just rambling. They were marching. The little spiders were marching in formation toward the box of condoms. Justin spread a few on the ground to see what would happen. Now the little spiders swarmed! They crawled all over the condoms and some of them found pinholes which they squeezed through and at the same time spun a line of thread as they went through. Justin picked up a defective condom with a hairlike but strong thread poking through it, showing the pinhole.

Justin spread more and more condoms from the box onto the ground and what seemed like hundreds and hundreds of spiders swarmed over them. Most of them were fine but whenever a spider found a defect, it would squeeeeze through and spin a thread, revealing it. In just under an hour, they were done. Justin stuffed the square condom packets back in the box.

The spiders climbed up the tree and spun a few strands of web out their backside and let go. The breeze caught the webbing and carried the spiders aloft and away into the world. Justin watched, fascinated. In a few moments the air was filled with silk and spiders. And a few minutes later, they were gone altogether.

Craig appeared out of nowhere. "Well!? Are you done?"

Justin stood. "I am. It's most distressing. I figure about 1 in every 3 condoms is defective."

Craig squinted at the threads poking through the condoms. "How did you do this?"

"It doesn't matter. I did it. Now you have to take me to the Prince's White Party. You promised."

Craig was enraged. "Oh no I didn't! I promised to give you a white suit! And I have the perfect one for a washed up, filthy, grayed out CINDERFELLA! Thanks for the help chump!

Justin moved to follow him into the house and basically walked into the fist that knocked his lights out.

Justin woke up about sunset. Ohhhhh! Man, he could feel that he was going to have a shiner.

He went into the house and in the living room was a white bedsheet with holes cut out for the head and arms to slip through and a pair of bleached out beach thongs. His white suit. Great.

His eyes filled with tears and he fell to his knees. He really wanted to go. Why did they hate him so?

After a few minutes, he shrugged. Well, he couldn't go to the ball, but at least it was a change of clothes. He shrugged off the tunic slipped on the bedsheet and slipped on the thongs. Ahhhhh! Compared to the wooden shoes, these were heaven!

Then he ran outside. He watched the sunset and looked over at the toy castle. Somewhere there, the White Party was starting. Slowly, he trudged over to the hazel tree. In the dwindling light, he looked like a ghost moving through the garden.

He dropped before the tree onto his knees and wept bitter tears that watered it.

"Oh, Mom, since you've been gone, I did as you asked. I've been good and pious, even though no one cares and if I had the chance I'd be loud and proud too. I so wanted to go see the Prince! I wish I had some help!"

"So, is this a private pity party or can anyone join in!?"

Justin whirled. There before him was a large woman with a red vest, red mouth, and frizzy red hair. All over the vest were Go Gay and Be Loud and Proud and PFLAG and My son is Gay buttons and dozens of others that Justin needed an hour to read them all. She wore a black T shirt with a white rooster on it and underneath that it said NEED COCK. A pair of black slacks finished her outfit.

"Who are you?" Justin cried, terrified.

"You asked for help. I'm help. I'm your fairy godmother. My name's Debbie."

"Good God help me!"

"The Good God helps those who get off their ASS! Now get up and let me see what I'm working with here?"

Afraid to do anything else, Justin obeyed.

"What the HELL!" she screeched, "You can't go in that!"

"I know that. My step -"

"I know all about it. I also know he gave you this." She reached out and pinched his cheek. Pain flared and he winced but suddenly it was gone. He stroked his face and knew his black eye was gone.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome Sunshine. But don't fuckin' thank me yet. We're just getting started."

"Started on what?"

On what! Why getting you ready for the White Party, of course! You still want to go, right?"

"Yes!"

"All right then! Go get me one of your wooden shoes and a white mouse from the mousetrap at the side of the house."

"How did you know about my wooden shoes?"

"Angel, I told you, I'm your fairy godmother. I've been watching you since you're mother died. But I wasn't able to help you until you asked. Now hurry!"

Justin ran. He went and fetched a shoe from the living room and went around to the mousetrap cage where there was indeed a white mouse in it. He brought the shoe and cage to the back yard where Debbie was waiting.

"Hmmm, not technically white, but what nobody knows, won't hurt me!" she quipped. She pointed a red painted nail at it and a red beam of energy hit the shoe, turning it white.

Then she set it on the ground, shot it with her beam and it grew and swelled into a white Rolls Royce.

"Open the trap," she commanded. Justin obeyed, wondering what was going to happen.

Debbie shot the mouse with her red beam. It grew and stood up in its hind legs and grew a white moustache and grew taller and suddenly a handsome chauffeur with white hair and mustache in a white uniform stepped forth.

"Hello," the chauffeur said, in a cultured accent, "Are you the young master, I'm to transport?"

"Uh, yes I am, thank you," said Justin.

"Very good. Oh no, this will never do. Good woman, this is a fine automobile, but there's no way I can drive it out of here."

"Good point. Get in the car and wait for him to come to you."

"Yes, ma'am. The driver got into the car and Debbie shot at it. The car disappeared.

"What happened to it?" cried Justin.

"Don't worry. I put in the driveway. Now my next problem is you. First the hair. She ruffled his hair and the cinders that grayed it vanished, leaving it beautifully blond once more.

"Now your clothes. She tapped her finger to her cheek, thinking for a second. All right I think I have it!

She zapped him.

The bed sheet rippled and molded to him, his ragged pants changed and formed to his legs and suddenly Justin found that he was wearing a wifebeater undershirt, a loose, open white dress shirt over it and tight, white, short shorts. On his feet were white loafers with a fringe on them.

"Not bad," Justin said, "But can we lose the fringe? I'm trying to get nailed by a tool, not look like one."

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Everybody's a critic." But she shot his shoes and the fringe vanished.

"Now..."she said, "A special touch to get you noticed."

She reached up and made a grabbing gesture. She opened her palm and there was some silver dust in her hand. "Some moondust to make you shine." She blew the dust onto his hair and clothes, making his hair and clothes glow silvery white, as if he were iced in moonlight. She pointed straight up and made a sweeping gesture downward. He felt something come upon his face around his eyes. "And some starshine to hide you from your brothers."

"What did you do?" asked Justin curiously.

You'll see. Well, I've done all I can here. OK, here's the deal. You have until 3 AM. On the stroke of 3 the spells will be broken and you will return to the state that I found you. The car and chauffeur will change back into a shoe and mouse so leave a little while before 3. Now get your sweet ass to the White Party and do everything I wouldn't, hear me, Sunshine?" She winked and vanished in a shower of sparks.

Justin grinned and ran to the front of the house and jumped into the back of the Rolls Royce.

"To the Castle and the White Party please!" he cried joyfully.

"Yes SIR!" cried the chauffeur, and they were off.

As they raced toward the castle, Justin looked into the rear view mirror to see his face and was delighted. A white bandit mask covered the upper part of his face. It flashed and sparkled with constant twinkling white pinpricks of light

The castle grew from a toy to real size in no time. The white Rolls zoomed to a stop and Justin got out. The turreted castle loomed overhead but Justin tried not to think about that. He walked up to the gate and up the stairs to the front door. All the guards thought the glowing man was royalty and bowed him in. One guard dressed in white armor for the night escorted him to the right ballroom. They escorted him to a ballroom with white double arched doors. Over top of the doors curved the words THE WHITE ROOM. Justin thanked him and went inside.

Inside, the room was packed with wall-to-wall men. Some were muscular and shirtless with shorts, white leather pants or jeans. Some wore wifebeaters or tee shirts and shorts. One wore a full tux. But whatever it was, it was white, white, everywhere was white. From a high stage, a laser generator zapped green laser bars just over everyone's heads. Strobe lights were going off everywhere. And on the stage was a large drag queen dressed as a bride. She wore blond hair and a fancy veil that went halfway down her back She wore formal white elbow long gloves and a hoop skirt type wedding dress sequined with diamonds and buttoned with pearls.

As Justin entered, the bride on the high stage threw a white bouquet, high and long. Justin followed it with his eyes as he walked down the stairs and as he reached the middle he held out his arms. The bouquet fell into them.

And overhead, a spotlight fell on him and it was as if he were standing alone in the dark under a streetlight. The light made his clothes and mask glow like the moon and stars they were made of.

The strobes and lasers continued. Everyone turned and looked at the newcomer and then went back to dancing to the thumpa thumpa music beat. All except one. A brown haired man with brown eyes was riveted to the glowing vision under the spotlight. He went forward to meet him. He wore a white dress shirt unbuttoned to show his bare chest and tight tummy and white jeans. He wore a circlet of white gold and several rings of white gold and diamonds.

Justin saw him and went down the rest of the stairs and went up to him. They were magnetized by each other's eyes.

Brown with gold flecks met blue and starlight. "Hi," said Justin, "I caught this but I want you to have it."

"You should offer that to the one you want to dance with," said Brian.

"You are the most handsome man here," said Justin, "I want you to have it."

"I am the most handsome because I am the Prince."

"I guessed," Justin said indicating the Prince's crown.

"If we dance together I will most likely end up fucking you."

"Time will tell," replied Justin. They began to dance, swaying to the thumpa thumpa music.

Justin and the Prince danced all night. If anyone tried to cut in on him or to take Justin away, he would say "Fuck off asshole, get your own dance partner. This one's mine." Justin was especially happy when this happened to both of his brothers, one at a time. Both had gone the formal route, earning Brian's scorn.

"That guy looks like he put his chin in the toilet!"

Justin smiled and laughed.

At one point, Brian asked, "How did you get your hair to do that?"

"I put moondust into it," Justin answered honestly.

Brian laughed delightedly.

"What's your name?"

"That I cannot tell thee."

"Come on."

"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, the only name I can leave you with is Starshine."

Much later, as the thumpa thumpa died down, Brian and Justin found themselves holding onto each other's butts and slowly bumping and grinding their crotches together.

"Let's go to the back room," said Brian, "We'll fuck like white rabbits."

"I'm loud and proud but I promised my mother I'd also be pious and good. Tell me you love me and I'll go with you."

"You're a strange one, Starshine."

"I know. But love is strange. I knew when I offered you that bouquet, I didn't want to dance with anyone but you, no matter who you were, whether the Prince of the Loft or the poorest pauper. I love you."

"All I know is I want your cute little butt. Fucking is for queers. No apologies, no regrets. I don't believe in love."

"Then I suppose I must go. What time is it?"

"About 2:15 AM."

"Oh, shit! I really do have to go! But I will come tomorrow."

Brian brushed the lightest of kisses across his rosy lips. "Sorry Sweetshine, I don't do repeats."

"Then, I pray you, give me a token so I'll remember you and this night forever."

So Brian took off one of his rings, a band of white gold and put it on Justin's finger. It didn't fit Justin's smaller finger so Justin bent his finger to keep it on.

"It's beautiful Brian. Just like you." Justin kissed Brian lightly, then deep. "I must go."

Lost in the kiss, Brian murmured, "Don't go."

"I must. Goodbye. You made this night as beautiful and pure as the white it's named after. Goodbye, my Prince."

Justin broke away and ran for the door. Brian chased him but the wall-to-wall men closed in.

Justin reached the stairs. He ran up them and away.

Brian fought the clawing hands. Finally, he shed his shirt and punched the rest of the way out. Far away he could see the glisten of moonshine.

Justin ran out of the castle and yelled," Car of White! Time for Flight!"

The Rolls Royce zoomed up and screeched to a stop right before him. He jumped in and they sped off.

Brian got outside just in time to see a white Rolls speed off into the night.

It was 2:30 AM.

Sighing, Prince Brian turned and went up to bed. He didn't feel like returning to that suffocating mob.

Justin arrived home just as the town clock boomed 3 times.

The Rolls evaporated. The chauffeur disappeared and a white mouse went running off. Justin was sitting there in the driveway next to a wooden shoe wearing a bedsheet and beach thongs. His face was gray with soot and there were cinders in his hair. From the pain, he could tell his shiner was back. It was over.

 

Sighing, he went in, gathered his gray tunic and other shoe, went to the basement and went to bed. Before he lay down to sleep, he found a loose brick in the wall and removed it. He put the Prince's ring in the hiding space behind there and replaced the brick. Then he went to sleep.

CINDERFELLA

Part 2

The Leather Ball

 

The next morning, Justin donned his bedsheet, ragged pants and thongs and went upstairs to cook breakfast for everybody.

The ashes were exceptionally dark last night so his hair and face were very black against the white bedsheet.

His relatives came down in a foul mood. The White Party had not turned out at all how they'd hoped.

"Good morning, said Justin pleasantly.

"Shut up!" growled Michael.

"What's for breakfast?" whined Ethan.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Craig asked.

"You know very well what it is. It's the sheet you left for me to go to the White Party."

They all snickered. "Don't tell me you actually went in that!" Craig asked disbelievingly.

"Of course not! But a change of clothes is a change of clothes."

"We'll see about that," Ethan said nastily. He and Michael put their heads together and began whispering. Uh oh. That was never good.

"How was the party, anyway?" he asked, hoping to distract them.

"Lousy! Some guy in a shiny suit showed up and monopolized the Prince. No-one else had a chance!"

"That's too bad," Justin said unconvincingly. He turned to wash the dishes. It was better than watching the three pigs eat.

He was nearly done when there was a terrible screeching sound right behind him. Justin covered his ears but it was no use. The sound ripped right through him like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Ethan was deliberately playing the highest, scratchiest, screechiest note he could on his violin. Justin screamed in pain. While he was thus incapacitated, Michael walked up and punched him in the stomach. Justin had a hard tummy and was not seriously hurt but the wind was knocked out of him.

As he gasped for breath, Ethan grabbed the thongs and then they both grabbed an edge of the neck hole and yanked sideways. There was a loud ripping noise and the sheet was ripped off him in half. He was left there, still gasping for air, in bare feet and only his grey pants with ripped leggings.

"All right boys! That's enough! Let Cinderfella get back to work," Craig said, from the living room.

" Later, Cinder-Soot!" said Ethan, punching him in the shoulder.

"Yah, laters, Cinder-Fella," laughed Michael, giving him a wet willy with dirty dishwater.

Justin dragged in a huge breath and just breathed for a bit. He looked at his ripped sheet sadly. "Ahh well, easy come, easy go," he thought. He finished the dishes, virtually naked. What was the difference?

Afterwards, he took the ripped sheets down to the basement. He threw them into the incinerator. The incinerator belched out a particularly foul black cloud that darkened his face and body and stuck in his hair like glue. He remained as black as his sheet had been white for the rest of the day. He sighed. He dressed in his grey tunic, tied the old rope around his waist and put on his wooden shoes like usual.

Justin spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon, working in the garden. The discordant tones of Ethan's violin floated out the window, but this was as far away as he could get from them on the weekend.

He thought and thought as he hoed and weeded.

Why did they despise him so? They were still family...sort of. Craig had loved his mother...once. And what was with the condoms? Justin had really been alarmed with all the defects. What was going on?

About 2PM, Justin put away the hoe and went inside. He could hear them getting ready for the Leather Ball.

"Stepfather, I want to go to the Leather Ball."

"They all looked at him incredulously and laughed. "You've got to be kidding," said Craig.

"Look, I don't know why you all hate me so much and right now I don't care! I've put up with a lot from you and you OWE ME! You made me miss the White Party and I want to go to the Leather Ball! There is plenty of leather here for all of us. You OWE ME!" Justin was breathing heavily as he finished his tirade.

All three of them stood there in shocked silence. Then Michael and Ethan moved forward to give Justin's kidneys a workout. This time, Craig let them for a minute, before waving a hand to stop. Ethan lowered his fists and Michael released Justin from the full nelson.

"I don't know what brought this on and I don't care. I'll make a deal with you. I'll have two boxes shipped from the factory. If you can do what you did before and sort 2000 condoms in an hour, I'll provide you with a leather outfit."

"Let's see it," Justin said distrustfully.

Craig showed him a black leather thong, some boots, chaps and gloves.

"OK?" he asked.

"OK. You got a deal," said Justin.

And so, the two boxes were shipped over and Justin took them out into the yard on the premise that he needed to use the sunlight to look for holes. This time, however, he took a wooden bowl with him.

When he was left alone, Justin knelt and touched the hazel tree and said, "Little spiders with your silk so fine, help me to again find the holes and reveal the truth. Help me again. Help me."

Again, a tiny spider dropped on its delicate thread in front of his face. Then another. And another. Soon, the area was swarming with spiders, even more than before.

Justin did his part, spreading the condoms on the ground, waiting for the spiders to check them, and the moving them aside to make room for more.

However, when there was enough, Justin filled the wooden bowl from the done pile. He could tell that again about 1 in 3 condoms were defective. He took off his tunic and draped it over the bowl, hiding it from view. The spiders crawled and spun, Justin kept condoms coming, and then packing them into the box again and suddenly the hour was up, and they were done. The spiders climbed the tree, spun a few strands of web and let go. As before, the air was filled with webbing and spiders as they flew off into the wide, wide world.

About 5 minutes after they had all gone, Craig appeared.

"Time's up. Are you done?"

Justin stood. "I am. I figure it's about the same as before. What is going on here? You're not selling these defective condoms, are you?"

Craig was enraged. "Never you mind! Mind your own business!"

"Funny...I thought it WAS my business."

Abruptly, Craig changed the topic. "Why are you naked?"

"The sun was hot, so I thought, I'd try getting a bit of a tan. I'm hardly naked. I have my pants on. Such as they are. Speaking of clothes, you owe me a leather outfit."

"You're right. Your suit will be waiting for you when you wake up. Thanks for your help chump!"

"I'm perfectly awake. You can get it for me now." Again, Justin moved to follow him into the house and again basically walked into the fist that knocked his lights out.

Justin woke up at sunset. Ohhh! He could feel that he was going to have a shiner on the other eye as well.

Justin retrieved his tunic and smiled to see the bowl of good and defective condoms was still there waiting for him. He picked up his tunic and the bowl and went into the house. It was deserted. His father and brothers had already left.

On the couch were a leather jockey cap and a leather jock strap along with a short note. It said:

A suitable suit for a CINDERFELLA!

Justin went down to the basement, removed the loose brick and hid the bowl of condoms along with the Prince's ring. When everything was replaced, he went upstairs again, retrieved the cap and jock strap and in nothing but his pants and wooden shoes, went out to the hazel tree.

"Debbie! If you're there, the time has come when I need your help again!"

There was a shower of sparks and Debbie appeared. She looked pretty much the same except now her t-shirt was black with a white stick figure of a man on it. The man's head was missing so of course underneath it said, NEED HEAD.

"Of course, Angel! I've been waiting for you to pull your head out of you ass and call me! What can I do?"

Justin gave her a quick run down of his stepfather's treachery and showed her the jock strap.

"Hey cute! You'll be one hot piece of ass with that on! Try it on!"

Justin looked at her like she'd lost it, but nevertheless complied. She looked him over but in nothing but a jockstrap and a jockey cap, she had to agree, "Hmm, I thing it needs a bit something more."

"Something more! Debbie, it needs EVERYTHING more!"

"Now don't get your panties in a twist, Sunshine, I'll take care of everything. But first, we need to get you transportation. Go get the mousetrap by the side of the house and bring me the lizard you find in it and a zucchini from the garden."

Mystified, Justin ran off in nothing but some leather underwear and a smile. There was indeed a small green lizard in the trap. He grabbed the cage and picked a large zucchini from the garden and returned to Deb.

ZAP! ZAP! The zucchini grew larger and larger and longer and longer and POOF! It transformed into a gleaming, black and chrome motorcycle. The leathery lizard grew up bigger and bigger and more and more leathery. He turned black and filled out even bigger and suddenly a huge biker in full leather, a Muir cap, and a bushy, black handlebar mustache that led into his muttonchops stepped forth.

"Wow!" he said, catching sight of the bike, "Sweet ride!"

"Glad you think so, Gearhead! You'll be using it to take Justin here, to there!" She pointed a red- nailed finger at the toy-sized castle.

"Mmmmmm, my pleasure!" The biker advanced on Justin and wrapped his gauntleted hands around his waist, cupping his tight bottom.

Justin gasped involuntarily at the feeling of the sensual leather seductively stroking his skin. He was unable to bite back a moan.

"That's enough of that! Back off boy, he's taken! Just wait for him in the driveway!" POOF! The motorbike and biker both vanished.

"Ohhh wow! Does all leather feel that good?"
Debbie just winked. "Judge for yourself!" she said. She pointed a red nail at his crotch and worked her magic.

The beam hit the jock strap and it sort of...bloomed. It spread up and over and down his body. His wooden shoes softened and encased his feet and spread up his legs. His hands glowed midnight black and he felt them being covered. And then it was done.

Justin looked down at himself. His wore black leather boots that reached up just below his knees. His legs were covered with black leather chaps. His jock strap had a silver zipper front and center. Behind him, he could feel the evening breeze on his bare ass. He wore a black leather vest with no shirt, showing off his beautiful, creamy chest. Over his hands were skintight, black leather gloves with elastic wristbands. A black leather armband was snapped to his right forearm. A leather bowtie finished the outfit.

Debbie looked him over from toe to top. "Not too fuckin' bad, if I do say so myself!" Then he looked at his blackened face and his black eyes. "Oh, Sunshine, not again!" she said sympathetically.

"I'm afraid so!" he grinned.

"She zapped away his shiners. Then she thought. "Hmm, you know, for once were are going to make those cinders and ashes work for you!" She ran her fingers through his hair and when she was done it was neat and parted to the right and black for real! She pointed at his face and Justin felt the ashes on his face concentrate and solidify and settle around his eyes. He felt up there and felt a shiny, latex infinity mask over his upper face. He put on the jockey cap, further concealing his identity.

"So, Deb! How do I look?" Justin struck a pose, his arms akimbo.

"Dark and mysterious and oh, so sc'rump'tious!" she said. "Now get going and knock the Prince's chaps off!"

Justin darted forward and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks for everything Debbie! I couldn't have done it without you."

"Any time sweetie!" Then she gave him a magic zap to get him moving. "Now get going! You're not getting any younger, you know. Oh, and remember! Same rules as before. You have only until 3 AM so make it count! And hurry back! You cut it kinda close last time!"

With that, she disappeared in a shower of sparks.

Justin grinned and hurried to the front where the motorcycle awaited. The biker looked at him appreciatingly.

"Ready to go, hot stuff?" he leered.

Justin climbed on the bike. "You bet!"

BAAARRROOOMM! They were off!

The motorcycle was a much faster ride than the Rolls. The biker was able to take corners faster, pass other vehicles, and even go through a few intersections he shouldn't have. In no time at all, they drove up to the castle and the biker let him off at the steps leading to the door.

"Call me when you need me!" he said and sped off toward the parking lot.

Justin went confidently up to the door and demanded to be shown to the Leather Ball. The guards bowed and showed him in. They took him to a different ballroom. The doors were double and heavy and painted black and over the doors were the words THE BABYLON BALLROOM.

Inside, the ballroom was huge. In the center of the room was an open area that was being used for a bondage demonstration. It formed a kind of theatre in the round. In this center area was a large, leather St. Andrew's Cross. Somebody was strapped by the wrists and ankles facing the cross. A large man in leather pants, studded harness, and executioner's mask was flogging him with a leather cat o'nine tails. Men and women, watched the show or just kissed, drank, talked, and danced primally all around it. There was a second floor wraparound balcony, where men were hanging over the edge watching the demo and, deeper in, were drinking and dancing. To the left and right there were tight metal spiral staircases leading to the second floor, four on each side. In each of the far, four corners of the room was a spanking bench, all of which were in use.

The ballroom was packed with both straight and gay couples, although there were more gay couples. The women were dressed in slinky cat suits and stiletto boots and dominatrix suits. Top men wore Muir hats, harnesses, chaps or leather pants, and tall leather boots. Many wore gloves or gauntlets but some didn't. Many just wore bracer type gauntlets. If they wore leather armbands they wore them on their left arms. Bottom men wore jockey caps, collars, leather shirts (or not), harnesses (if they were built well) leather pants or shorts, and boots. If they wore an armband, they wore it on their right arm. If a person was versatile they wore armbands on both arms. Some wore bandannas in their pockets or wore keys on their waists, left or right, according if they were top or bottom. The variations of the costumes were endless.

There was a spotlight on the center demo area, giving it good light. All around the rest of the ballroom, it was shrouded in darkness, lit up by flashing lights and eerie glowing blue bars. The result was that the ballroom was bathed in a flashing, blue glow.

Justin walked a few steps inward and took a few moments to look around, up, back, and around again trying to take everything in and found he could not. He was in sensory overload.

Justin looked around for Brian and couldn't find him. He decided to climb to the second floor and look things over. But before he could reach the stairs, his attention was drawn to the center area. There, he saw the large man in the mask and studded harness offering the cat o' nine tails to someone. It was Brian. He tested the whip and then gave the bottom on the cross a few ceremonial swats. Everybody cheered but Justin could tell by the look on Brian's face that he was not into it, instead a little bored and putting on a brave face.

Brian was very handsome tonight in a Muir cap, a leather t-shirt, a leather armband on his left forearm, belted leather pants and knee high black boots. He had on short, skintight leather gloves similar to Justin's.

Justin moved toward the center area. Brian continued to swat the guy's butt lightly and then finished. He released the submissive just as Justin got to the edge of the arena. Brian turned to go.

The masked executioner cried out, "Who's next?"

"I'll go next," Justin called. He stepped forward. "On the condition that I am topped by the Prince."

Brian froze. He recognized that voice. In a secret place, his heart leapt. Slowly he turned. Then it fell. It couldn't be the same man. This one seemed even younger and his hair was black. The previous night, even though his hair was silvered somehow, he could still tell that the man, whose kiss had affected him so deeply, was blond. Anyway, it didn't matter. He didn't do repeats.

Slowly, the two men approached each other from opposite sides of the floor. All around them, the primal beat went on. The light was bright on them and they knew some people were watching but that many drank and danced to their own beat as well. Either way, they couldn't see, from their point of view, the edge of the theatre in the round was blacked out. As far as they cared, they were alone. They met each other in the center of the floor.

Brian was fascinated but he hid it. The man had the same blue eyes behind the mask. "Go home, little boy. This is not for the faint of heart."

Justin was fascinated. Prince Brian's eyes were golden tonight. They were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. "That's good. Because my heart is not faint. It is strong and true and brave when I'm with someone I trust."

"There is no one here that you can trust. That is the whole point of the Leather Ball. To flirt with danger and party with strangers."

"Why do you think I asked for you?"

Brian grabbed Justin by the chin. He held him almost painfully tight. He stared deep into Justin's eyes and forced Justin to look into his golden ones. Then he slowly ran his hand down his neck. Justin savored the sensual feel of the leather.

"Go home little boy. You can't take it."

"I've taken more punishment than you can possibly imagine." Justin shrugged off his vest and let it fall.

Brian's hand moved down that smooth as silk, creamy white chest, tested a nipple, found it very sensitive by the excited hitch in the young man's breath. Then, like a striking snake, he grabbed his neck and jammed his face into the padded back of the St. Andrew's cross. As he strapped him in, he was dimly aware of cheering. He tuned it out. He wasn't doing it for them. Hell, he didn't know why he was doing it at all. But he liked this kid's moxy.

Justin was filled with a strange mix of fear and excitement as he felt the padded leather straps tighten around his wrists. Fear because he was helpless. Excitement because he wondered what Brian was going to do to him. And a large part of him couldn't wait to find out.

As Brian finished, he whispered, "You doing OK?"

"I'm a little bored. I'm kind of a rope man, myself," Justin answered cheekily.

He was self-satisfied when he heard Brian's sharp intake of breath of excitement.

Brian flourished the whip a few times for the benefit of the crowd. Then he snapped the many-tailed whip onto Justin's back in such a way that it looked like it was hard but when it actually connected merely felt like a bee sting, which quickly faded.

Justin did not have to fake the flinching reaction but he played along making out that it was much worse "Ohhhh! Owwwww!" he groaned.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! The cat snapped over his back, his shoulders, and his bare butt. The discipline stung but it was nothing compared to the real beatings he had endured at the hands of his stepbrothers.

Finally, he could tell Brian had had enough. He leaned against Justin's backside and grabbed his throat and yanked his head back "painfully" hard. Justin gave an excited intake of breath as he felt Brian's arousal straining through his pants against his bare ass. If it wasn't for that thin layer of fabric...Justin gave a shudder of excitement.

Brian felt it and gave a smug smile with his tongue in cheek. Out of sight of the crowd, he imperceptibly, stroked his leathered thumb in the hollow of Justin's throat. Justin bit back a moan.

"So...had enough, PUNK?!" he growled, loud enough for the crowd to hear.

Justin slumped in "defeat". He nodded. "Yes SIR!" he answered.

The crowd cheered. Brian ignored it as he untied Justin and retrieved his vest. "Thank you, Your Majesty," said Justin, letting Brian put on his vest.

"Call me Brian. You want to get a drink?"

"Thank you, Brian. Yes, I'd like that."

Brian grabbed an extra leash from the regular masked demonstrator's display and hooked it onto Justin's bowtie in a show of ownership. "Well then boy, come along."

Justin let himself be "dragged" away to the bar. It was a relief to be out of the bright lights at last. They got a couple of ales and rested for a bit watched the sights. Justin saw a guy in some leather pants with no ass like his and a black leather cowboy hat. He saw someone in nothing but boots, leather underwear, and a strange shirt completely made of large chain mail rings. And many other staggering combinations.

After they finished their drinks, Brian asked, "Wanna dance?"

"You bet!"

As they moved toward the dance floor, they passed one of the spanking benches. Justin was pleasantly surprised to see that Ethan was strapped down, his bare ass wiggling in the air.

He caught sight of Brian. "Oh Prince! Prince! Spank me! Spank me!" he squealed.

Brian whispered to Justin, "That guy looks like he dipped his chin in something from the toilet!"

Justin giggled slightly; relishing the secret that Brian had told him almost the very same thing the night before.

Brian ran a single leathered finger from Ethan's neck, slowly all the way down his spine to his butt crack. Ethan shivered in pleasure. Brian bent down close to Ethan's ear.

"I wouldn't touch you to spit on you," he whispered.

Ethan's face fell.

"I WOULD!" Justin cried. He picked up a black paddle with holes in it. "Mind if I have a crack at him?" he asked Brian.

"Be my guest!" said the Prince.

"No! No! I want the Prince to do it!" protested Ethan.

Justin indicated the straps and disguised his voice making it deep and gravelly. "Looks like you're in no position to argue, little boy."

And he proceeded to paddle Ethan until his asscheeks were bright pink.

At last, he handed the paddle to the next it line. "He likes it rough. Pass it on," He whispered in the mustachioed leatherman's ear.

Then he moved to the dance floor with the Prince and they began bumping and grinding to the primal thumpa thumpa beat.

"So what's your name?" asked the Prince.

"That I cannot tell thee," answered Justin.

Brian gave him a look. "What did you say?"

Justin looked into his golden eyes and wished he could. "I said, that I cannot..."

"I heard you." Brian pulled on his leash and grabbed his lush, tight, bare ass. Justin moaned at the incredible feeling of leather and ownership on his ass.

"I'm your master. I've captured you. I order you to tell me your name."

"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, the only name I can leave you with, is Ash."

Justin and the Prince danced all night. If anybody tried to cut in or take Justin away, Brian would keep tight hold of the leash and say, "Fuck off, asshole, this boy's ass is mine. Get your own slave!"

At one point, Brian danced Justin over to the edge of the ballroom. Justin was unaware until his back hit the wall. Brian's arms went up and his palms went flat on the wall on either side of Justin, trapping him in place.

"God, that mask is so hot! It's been driving me crazy all night!" Brian kissed him hotly, tongue fucking him for a long time. Justin didn't think anything could feel so good until slowly Brian's hands slowly framed his face and began to slowly stroke his cheeks with leathered thumbs. Justin whimpered. NOW, he was in seventh heaven.

As Brian continued to french him mercilessly, Justin felt those gloves slowly move down his face, down his neck, over his shoulders, down his chest, over his nipples where they pulled and twisted for a while turning Justin into a malleable mush. Then, slowly, those hands moved lower and lower and found the zipper with the hard member behind it.

"Well, well, well!! What have we here?"

Justin cheekily throbbed against his hand. "If I have to answer that, you're in the wrong room."

"True." Brian pulled the zipper down.

"Uh, Brian...It's not that I don't want you to...because I do...but we have an audience."

It was so. Jealousy permeated the air as a semicircle of men 3 deep surrounded them.

"I don't care, Ash. I WANT them to watch." Brian released his cock and kneeling before him, proceeded to give Justin a most artistic blowjob that had him writhing against the wall in mindless pleasure and, no doubt, a huge spectacle. In what seemed like no time (but it wasn't) Justin climaxed hard. He cried out in pure pleasure. Brian sucked greedily, swallowing every drop.

"Ok, little boy, your turn!" Brian reversed their positions and pushed Justin to his knees.

"Wait Brian, before we...OH...MY...GOD...before we..uhhhhh....what was I saying? Oh yeah, what time is it?"

"It's only 1:45. Why?"

"It's all right. But my time draws nigh. I must leave soon."

"You're not going anywhere, little boy. I'm going fuuu...uhhhhhh...uhhhhh.....ohhhh...MY...GOD.....ooooohhhhhhhh......"

And Justin was off, with his own artistic ministrations on Brian's enormous masterpiece of a donkey cock.

Fifteen minutes later, after driving Brian crazy, and earning the respect and awe of the entire crowd, which had now grown to a close semicircle of guys 5 deep and spawned several side orgies, Brian came in a gush.

"Ohhh....Ohhh...Ohhhh GOD!"

Justin was treated to his first taste of cum. It was thick and salty and not entirely pleasant but it was also Brian. Pure Brian. And that made it the most delectable nectar in the world. Justin swallowed every drop.

There was resounding applause for the man who had blown the Prince of The Loft.

Brian pulled Justin up by his leash and kissed him deeply again tasting his own self on Justin's tongue. Justin loved the way Brian sucked on his tongue and felt as consumed as it was.

"Come on Ash. Let's go to the back room. We'll fuck like creatures of the night."

"Tempting. Hey, wait a minute! Do all your ballrooms have back rooms?"

"Of course. Don't they all?"

"That I cannot say. What I can say is that I'm loud and proud but I promised my mother I'd also be pious and good. Tell me you love me and I'll go with you."

Brian's eyes narrowed.

You're a strange one, Ash."

"I know. But love is strange. I knew I loved you when you tried to warn me away from the cross three times. And you showed me your love right now with that incredible blowjob. Tell me what you have shown me."

"All I know is I want your cute little ass. Fucking is for queers. I don't believe in love." Brian spoke the line like...well as if he were speaking a line.

"Then I suppose I must go. What time is it?"

"A little after 2:00 AM."

"I really do have to go! But I will come again tomorrow."

"Sorry Ash... I don't do repeats." Again is was spoken but there was no feeling behind it.

"Then I pray, give me a token, so that I'll remember you and this night forever."

As if in a dream, Brian unsnapped his armband and snapped it onto Justin's left arm.

"Thank you Brian. I'll treasure it always." Justin kissed Brian's frozen lips. "I must go."

"Who are you? Who are you really?"

"I cannot say. For your protection. And for mine. I am only Ash."

"Ash, don't go! It doesn't have to end."

"Tell me you love me and it doesn't ever have to end."

"I - I - I...I can't."

Justin's expression was indescribably disappointed and sad. Slowly, with one hand he reached up and stroked Brian's cheek. With the other, he unhooked the leash from his bowtie and handed it to Brian.

"Then I must go. Good-bye. You've made this night as dark and erotic as the leather it's named after. Goodbye, my Prince"

Sorrowfully, Justin turned away and vanished into the crowd. Within seconds he was lost, camouflaged by the other hundreds of leathered bodies.

Brian zipped himself up and slumped against the wall. He tried not to care as he walked through the crowd, pretending to browse. But he didn't want to browse. What was it about Ash that affected him so deeply? And what was with that exchange? Was that Starshine? Holy Shit, did he just do a repeat? He looked at the leash in his hand and realized he didn't know and he didn't care. It just didn't matter.

With a wordless, primal cry, Brian dropped the leash and ran for the door. Far away across the room, he could see the door open and close.

"MOVE! MOVE FOR THE PRINCE!" he shouted as loud as he could, but it was no use. The thumpa thumpa beat drowned him out. A few people heard and moved aside but progress was slow. Again and again Brian shouted but it seemed to him as if he was swimming through a sea of black strap molasses.

Meanwhile, Justin began jogging through the halls being directed by guards to the way out. He decided not to waste a minute of time to get home before the curfew this time.

After what seemed like an eternity, Brian reached the door. He yanked on the heavy thing and darted through, out of the crush and the noise at last. The hallway was cool on his face after the heat in the ballroom. He breathed deeply a few times before running for the door. "Ash! Wait! ASH!"

Justin's primary mission was getting back before transforming back into a pauper. Dimly he heard his alias being called. He quickened his pace. He was at the door.

Someone was definitely calling his name. Oh, no, it was Brian! He could change back at any time and when he did Brian wouldn't even recognize him. Plus he'd be stuck here! He had to get away!

Justin ran out the castle doors and down the royal purple carpeted steps. He yelled, "Motorbike with man in black! I need you now! Take me back!"

A few seconds later, the man with the mustache zoomed his way around and screeched to a halt in front of the steps.

At that moment, Brian appeared at the door.

"Ash! Ash, wait! Don't go! Stay with me!"

"I'm sorry my Prince! I dare not linger any longer. I will come again tomorrow."

Justin got on the bike and they zoomed away.

Brian's gut twisted with something he couldn't figure out. Who was THAT guy? Why was Ash taking off with him? Was he being kidnapped? Were they an item?

Deciding he didn't like either scenario, Brian ran down into the outer courtyard where a number of motorbikes were parked. Picking one at random, Brian jumped on, pulled on a helmet, and revved the starter. He zoomed out the main gate, over the drawbridge, and down the road. Far away, he could see Ash's motorbike entering the city. He sped up.

Justin heard a buzzing sound and looked behind him. Oh no! Brian was chasing him! This wasn't how things were supposed to turn out at all!

He turned to the driver. "We're being followed!" Get away! Get home!"

"No problem, boss!"

The biker sped up and began taking a twisting route through the city. However, Brian was no slouch with a motorcycle and followed them. Fortunately, because it was so late, there was very little traffic and they basically had the roads to themselves.

Brian chased Justin for a half an hour. He was not able to catch up but he kept on their tail. Justin heard the town clock chime quarter to.

"We've only got 15 minutes to get me home! Do something!"

"I do have one thing up my sleeve! But I'll need your help, little master!"

"What is it!?"

The motorcycle zoomed through the streets turning, twisting, doubled back, went under a bridge they just went over and zoomed out of town. Suddenly, Justin realized they were headed for a huge, wide chasm spanned by a broken bridge. There was no way they could jump it. Brian was still behind them.

"You must give me some of your magic! Say you will give me your mask, your invisibility!

I'll have no use of it if we're caught! Yes! I give up my mask to you!"

Instantly, he felt the latex mask vanish from his face and he knew the black ash from whence it came had replaced it.

The motorcycle swelled, grew monstrously large, as big as an elephant. Justin held onto his driver as tight as he could.

Behind them, Brian's eyes grew wide with wonder and fear. The huge motorcycle sped up impossibly fast and jumped the gorge. It seemed to fly. Even so it just cleared the gorge. Then its wheels spun for a moment as the wheels tried to grip the road. When they did, the huge bike shot down the straight road like a bullet. They were gone in two seconds. The only evidence they were there was a trail of fire, which quickly burned away.

Brian screeched to a halt. He skidded to a stop just at the edge of the gorge. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. But that paled in comparison to the sadness and disappointment that ripped through his soul. Ash was gone. He was alone.

He turned around and returned to the toy-sized castle. He figured he'd have some explaining to do, but, hell, he was the Prince, he could make easy restitution. However, when he got back, he was disgusted that nobody had even noticed. Everybody was still in there, eating his food and drinking his liquor and nobody even noticed he wasn't there. Somewhere, the town clock struck three.

Snapping his fingers, he summoned an attendant and ordered him to refill the borrowed cycle's gas tank. He told him to tell the guards to inform everyone the party was over when he was done. The attendant snapped his heels and assured him it would be done. Brian went up to bed. His body and soul were weary as death.

Meanwhile, Justin's bike drove so fast, the entire world went by in a blur. The biker only drove for about 5 seconds before slowing down and stopping. Justin blinked. They were in a totally unfamiliar countryside just outside a small and totally unfamiliar village.

"Where are we?"

The bike shrank back to normal. "We' are seven leagues away, little master. We have lost him. We are safe."

Safe! But how am I to get home? I only have a few minutes."

Here. Take my boots." The biker kicked them off. They are seven league boots. Put them on and take one step...just one step, mind you, little master...and you will find yourself within walking distance of your home. Hurry though, for when the last chime of 3 sounds, they will vanish away like everything else."

Justin hurriedly pulled off his own boots and easily slipped into the bigger man's shoes. "Thank you. Thank you for everything!"

The unfamiliar village clock gave a strange tinny chime. DING!

"Hurry Master! Go!"

"I will. Goodbye!"

DING!

Justin picked up his own boots and took one step back along the road where they had come. There was a sort of blurred flash and suddenly Justin was on a different country road. In the distance, he saw a toy-sized castle. He smiled.

There was a distant BOOONNNGGG! The third chime.

The seven league boots vanished away, leaving him in bare feet. He was holding wooden shoes. He was in his tunic and leggings and his face, body and hair were black with soot. He was Cinderfella again. He looked down the road and smiled at the thought that somewhere there was a zucchini lying in the middle of the road and a green, leathery, lizard running blissfully free.

He put on his wooden shoes and started the trek home. In about half an hour, he got there. Dang! His father and brothers were home! Ah well!

Justin snuck around the house and lay down at the foot of the hazel tree. He reached under his tunic to his left arm and unsnapped the Prince's token armband. He stroked it with his thumb and thought of the erotic evening past. He thought of how Brian had called him back, had chased him. He knew he loved him. Why wouldn't he tell him so? Brian's voice echoed in his head.

"I don't do repeats...don't do repeats...don't do repeats..."

Justin caressed the armband and cried and cried.

 

 

 

  Eventually, he cried himself to sleep. He fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

CINDERFELLA

Part 3

Twists

 

The next morning, Justin awoke under the hazel tree at dawn. Despite the late night, he could not escape the sun. Besides, after the night under the stars, he was bitterly cold.

Justin stood up and faced the morning sun, stretching the kinks out. He snapped Brian's leather armband onto his left forearm and made sure the sleeve of his tunic went down over it, hiding it. But just having it on, filled Justin with a sense of purpose and power.

He went inside. The house was quiet, as he knew it would be. It was only about 6 AM or thereabouts. His stepfather and brothers had gotten in about the same time he did, which meant he had at least two or three hours to himself before they woke up and started to whine.

Justin went along to the bathroom quietly and filled the tub with blissfully hot water. He was still covered with that stubborn black ash that had named him the night before, and now added to that he was damp with dew and dirt as well. Well, no more. He barred the door (just in case), stripped and stepped in. Ahhhhhh! After the chill of the night, the warm bath felt amazing.

For a while he just soaked, soaped up his hair and watched the water get darker and darker until it was black instead of him. He soaped up and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed everywhere until he was as white as a pearl. He washed his hair until it was as golden as Brian's eyes. He stood and got out. He looked and felt transformed.

He drained the tub, cleaned up, dressed. Snapped on the armband, hid it. Filled with that same sense of power he went downstairs and started breakfast. After so many years of doing the same thing, he really didn't know what else to do with himself in the morning. But this time the same thing was going to go a little...differently.

Justin started his favorite, scrambled eggs, toast and ham and coffee. He hummed as he worked. However, he braced himself as he put the ham and coffee on. The smell would soon bring...

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! And here they came. Papa Bear, Screechy Bear, and ShitBeard.

"Good morning," Justin said pleasantly, as he did every morning. As they came into the kitchen, he turned. He timed it perfectly.

They all gaped and gasped. "What happened to you??" someone asked. (Who cares which one, I mean, really, do you?)

"I washed. I figured it was about time, don't you? Oh, and it'll be happening on a regular basis from now on. The name's Justin. Jusss - tiinnn...Tayyy -loooorrr." He spoke slowly, as if he were talking to halfwits. "So the next one who calls me Cinderfella will be cooking their next meal, because I won't be. Got it?"

They were still gaping at him like halfwits.

"GOT IT!?" He slammed the egg frying pan down against the burner. It made a terrific noise.

They all jumped and nodded.

"Great! Who wants coffee?" Ethan and Craig opted for coffee. Michael opted for orange juice. Or rather...

"I want orange juice! Michael whined.

"Beg pardon?"

"I want orange juice!"

"Still didn't catch that."

Dammit Cinder - Justin! He said he wanted orange juice! Now get us orange juice!" Craig yelled.

Justin ignored him. "For breakfast this morning, I made ham and eggs. Eat up!" He put them on plates and served them, putting his own plate down first and sitting down.

"What about my orange juice?" Michael whined.

"I want pancakes," Ethan whined.

"Justin, you heard your brother. Make us pancakes." Craig said in his imperious tone.

Justin closed his eyes. He felt the leather armband and drew strength from it. He remembered Brian's commanding golden eyes. "Go home little boy..." As his relatives continued to whine and bark he slowly stood up and drew himself up to his full height. He opened his eyes and they blazed with commanding fury.

"SHUT...THE HELL...UP!" he yelled."

The three men were shocked into silence.

"All right, you dishrags! Apparently you are too STUPID to get the simplest of hints so I'm going to spell it out for you. There are going to be some new rules here. I don't even know what they all are yet! But here are the first two. ONE...Since I do all the cooking, you are going to eat what I make...or you can make what you want yourself. TWO...if you want me to get something for you, you are going say please and thank you! Or...you can get it yourself! I don't mind working for my keep but I am not your slave, DAMMIT! Now...Michael, are your legs broken?" He looked Michael straight in the eyes, hypnotizing him.

N-no," Michael answered.

Still looking at him as a snake might look at a mouse, Justin said, "Then why don't you get off your ASS and use them to get your own goddam juice!"

"OK, Justin...Sure thing, Justin!" Michael knocked over his chair in his haste to comply.

Slowly, Justin swung around to fix Ethan with that same hypnotic stare. "Today for breakfast, I made scrambled eggs and ham," he said, in a calm, soothing voice, "Take a sniff, Ethan. It's sooo good. The ham is soooo sweet. I worked hard cooking it."

Almost against his will, Ethan sniffed.

"If you still want pancakes, you are of course welcome to make them yourself."

"But I don't know how!" Ethan interjected.

"Then I suggest you eat my breakfast that I made just for you," Justin said in that same, eerie, calm voice, "Because if you don't, I'm going to shove it down your throat until you choke." He smiled.

Ethan didn't move.

"EAT IT!!!" Justin yelled, smacking the table with his palm. It made an even better noise than the frying pan.

Ethan jumped and started shoveling food in his mouth.

Justin turned and faced his stepfather across the table. "You got any more smart remarks?" he snarled.

Craig stared at his stepson with blazing hate in his eyes but slowly he started to fork in his own eggs.

Justin sat and picked up his fork. "I didn't think so," he said pleasantly. He began to eat.

BJBJBJBJBJ

Later, Justin was on his knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor when Ethan began screeching away on his violin. He took a deep breath. His eye twitched. He closed his eyes, feeling the sound ripping through him. Ethan had been playing that fiddle since he had arrived when both he and Justin were ten and had never improved.

The brush dropped into the bucket with a splash. A drawer opened and closed. Justin came into the living room.

Ethan stopped and stared. "What do you want? Hey...what is that? What are you doing?"

Justin slowly advanced on Ethan, a maniacal smile on his face.

He carried a hammer.

"Don't worry Ethan. This won't hurt me a bit!"

Slowly he came closer and closer. Ethan backed away in terror but he tripped over a footstool. "Daaaaaaddddd!!" he screamed.

Justin raised the hammer.

Craig came running in just as Justin grabbed the violin out of Ethan's hands. "Justin what the hell are you doing? Get back to work cleaning the floor!"

Justin put the violin on the floor and smashed it with the hammer several times as hard as he could. Strings snapped. The body was crumpled in. The handle snapped off. Justin threw the pieces into the fireplace.

"I'm going green...Dad," he spoke the title with scorn, "I'm cutting down on noise pollution."

He reached over and snatched the bow from Ethan's shocked hands. He snapped it and threw the pieces into the fireplace after the instrument. The fire consumed them utterly.

"News Flash!" he said to Ethan, "YOU CAN'T PLAY THE VIOLIN! I've listened to you try for almost 8 long years and you've never improved. You will give it up and give me peace while I...work..." he threw a venomous look at Craig. "Or the next thing I hammer...will not be made of wood." He tapped the hammer into his palm.

"How dare you! Just who do you think you are?" Craig yelled. Get back to work or get out!"

"I think I am your stepson. I think that this is MY house! I think that I have been treated with a little respect lately, and I like it! And I am not going back!"

Justin did not miss the flicker of fear in his stepfather's eyes before smugness, anger, and hate filled them with full force. "I am the head of this household here! This is MY house since I am next of kin to your mother and you will obey me! Now get back to work!"

"And I am my mother's kin! Did you ever, in the smallest way love her or me? Why do you hate me so? Why do you treat me so, when I'm all that's left of my mother?"

"Yes. And she's dead," said Ethan.

Justin threw away the hammer. Something smashed but he didn't see. He advanced on Ethan and punched him so hard in the face that he was knocked off his feet before landing on his back.

"Oh my Gob! I tink you boke my node!" Ethan screamed, his face gushing blood.

"That's it! I have no idea what caused this insubordination but it stops now. You can spend the rest of the day in your basement and since you seem to have such reservations with cooking, you can go all day and the night without food. But even that will not save you from a sound thrashing. Craig advanced and pulled a fist back. Instinctively, Justin flinched and covered his head. Craig threw a punch.

It never landed. A palm came out nowhere and caught the fist inches away from Justin's cheek.

"Leave him alone, Dad!" Michael said.

"Michael what the hell are you doing?" Craig said incredulously as Michael easily pushed his fist back and squeezed it painfully hard, forcing him to relax and drop it.

"I'm with Justin on this one. Leave him alone."

Justin looked at Michael strangely. What was he playing at?

"Justin's right. Ethan can't play the fiddle. I've wanted to do that for years but didn't dare for fear that you'd send ME down to the basement too. He's also right in the fact that we never ask or thank him for what he does around here. I'm sorry, Justin. Oh, and I can't sing! I know that now! And it feels great!"

"Michael, what the HELL has gotten into you?" Craig demanded.

"Love. Pure and simple. I met someone at the Leather Ball. A knight named Sir Ben. He's kind, brave, noble...and he even listened to me sing. He stopped me after 5 words and told me I stunk. And you know what? He's right! I never wanted to admit it before but I always knew it was coming out all wrong."

"Um, nobe still boken ober ere, Ethan said. Everybody ignored him.

"Ben has FADES," Michael continued, "It's in its early stages and he says the physicians tell him it's a very slow case. We'll have years before...before...he's...gone. But he will be one day so I don't want to hear anything more about his mother...Ethan! And no more physical abuse! This goes both ways, Justin. No more punching."

"Hey, this was a one time thing for me." Justin held up his hands. "I think you know that. Anyway, I'm game." He started back to the kitchen. "Oh...and congrats Mike."

"Just where do you think you're going?" Craig snarled.

"To clean the floor."

"Didn't you hear me? You're spending the day in the basement!" Craig moved forward, grabbing his wrist and twisted it painfully behind his back. Dammit! He never should have let go of that damn hammer! "I may not be allowed to thrash you as I'd like, but I can still ground your ass into the next century! Michael...since you have become such a...champion of justice...YOU can finish the floor and make lunch and dinner! I have to get Ethan to a surgeon before he bleeds all over my rugs."

"But I can't cook!" whined Michael.

"Figure it out!"

Craig hustled Justin over to the basement door. Justin wanted to struggle but he thought better of it as he knew Craig would snap his arm without a second thought.

"Damn you!" he snarled.

And then he was shoved through the door and down the stairs. He clutched at the banister to keep from falling. The door slammed. The lock clicked.

BJBJBJBJBJ

And so, Justin was relegated to Cinderfella prison once again. He trudged down into the windowless cellar and sat on his straw mat as far from the hated incinerator as he could. He was NOT going back to being Ash if he could help it.

He lay down and prepared to endure his imprisonment. He made as little movement as possible to conserve his energy and stave off hunger.

A few hours passed. It didn't really work. By lunch he was really quite hungry. His stomach made all sorts of interesting and painful noises.

At about 1:00PM the door clicked and opened cautiously. Michael crept down with a bundle. "Here," he whispered.

Justin opened it to discover 2 baloney sandwiches and an apple.

"It's all I could smuggle out without raising suspicion. If it makes you feel any better this is all they're getting too."

"Thanks Michael. This is really decent of you. But why? And if you were all changed by this Ben guy, why were you such a tool at breakfast?"

"Aww, I dunno. It was early, I guess and you know, old habits and all that.... Yeah, lame I know. I'm sorry. As for the food and stuff, well this punishment is a raw deal and you don't deserve it. Father's always been cruel to you but things seem to have escalated since you've gotten older and I don't know why. And as for Ethan...well, he never should have said that about your mother."

"Thank you, Michael." Justin was touched and almost felt, dare he say it, close to one of his stepbrothers for the first time in almost eight years. "How is Ethan, by the way?"

"He's fine. The surgeon rebroke his nose back to normal. There's still a little...bump that can't be gotten rid of but father's convinced him it adds "character". He snickered. So did Justin.

"Well, I'd better get back. I told them I was going to pick vegetables. I'll try to come with some dinner but I can't promise anything. We'll be getting ready for the Prom tonight and I don't know if they'll leave me alone at all."

"The Prom?"

"Yeah. That's what they're calling the formal tonight. I guess the Prince never got one before."

"OK. Thanks again Michael. As Michael climbed the stairs, he said again, "Really, thanks Mike. I won't forget this kindness."

Michael looked at him oddly, then nodded and darted up the stairs. The door closed and locked once again.

Slowly, Justin ate his meager lunch but it did little to quell his hunger. And what was he going to do later? It was a looong time till 5 or 6 and even then, Michael might not be able to come. Justin did not want to think about that. Justin tried not to think about anything but of course when that happens, all sorts of things crowd in. Brian. The Prom tonight. Brian. Debbie. Debbie! She said she was always watching!

"Hey Debbie! If you're there. Hey I know this isn't exactly my mother's tree but I can't get there right now. If I'm going to get to the Prom tonight, I think I need some help. I'm going to need something decent to eat and a way out of here. Can you do anything to help? Please?"

No sooner was the word out of his mouth, then there was a flash of white and a shower of gold flakes. And from out of this golden shower stepped a most unusual being.

It was a man with what looked like transparent butterfly wings. He was tall and thin with sandy hair and a round face. He had a charming gap in his front teeth that added character to his face. He wore lime green pants with ruffles and a matching shirt that poofed out in the sleeves. He wore huge shoes with high heels and a green beret. He fluttered his wings and flew a few feet off the floor.

"Hello sweety! How marvelous to meet you! Oh but we haven't met yet have we? I'm Emmett. I'm Debbie's assistant and she asked me to come."

"Uhh, hello...Emmett. Thank you. But why didn't Debbie just come herself? Oh, not that I'm not glad to see you too!" he amended, seeing Em's hurt expression, "It's just...I'm more used to her, that's all."

"Well, she such figured that due to the specialized nature of your request, I would be the best fairy for the job. Plus I REALLY need the practice. That's what I am, a fairy, you know!"

"You don't say," Justin said drily.

"I DO say! I'm Emmett, fairy party planner and caterer, extraordinaire!"

"You are! That's fantastic! I've just been..."

"Hon, I've been all over what you've been doing and that's why I'm here."

"Oh, right. Well, then I wish I had a great big..."

"Hold IT! Whoa! Just stop right there, Mister Man!" Emmett's voice went up an octave if that was possible.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm a fairy, not a genie. I don't do wishes. Besides you don't want a genie anyway. They're oversized, oversexed and over here. Hmmm, wait a minute on second thought, where can I get one of those? Oh wait, what am I saying?! They smell, and they're tricky. You'd need a consultation with Ferry Mason just to get through a wish without losing your head. You'd..."

"OK, Emmett, OK!" Justin said soothingly, "Calm down! So you don't do wishes. What do you do?"

"Hoooo!!!" Emmett hooted shrilly. He took off and flew back and forth a few times, fanning himself with his wings. Then he lowered himself down and sat on Justin's mat.

Hooo!!!" he hooted again, "Sometimes I get so worked up! You know how that is!"

"Uhhhh...sure! So if you don't do wishes, what can you do for me?" Justin asked again.

"Well, honey, I can give you one of these," Emmett said, making a gesture and pulling a blue and white checked cloth out of nowhere.

It was a folded up tablecloth.

"Gee.... thanks Em," said Justin doubtfully.

"Oh, you! Now don't go giving me that face. This is no ordinary tablecloth!"

It's not?"

"Hon?" He fluttered his wings. "Fairy, remember!? When have you ever gotten anything ordinary from a fairy?"

"Good point."

"Of course it is. Now, listen carefully. All you need to do is clap your hands twice and say ‘I'm hungry, give me something to eat,' and it will unfold and a marvelous spread will appear, anything you want at that moment. When you're done, clap your hands twice and say, ‘I'm done, lay all away,' and the tablecloth will clear and fold itself up again. And it's yours for as long as you live, my muffin. I have a feeling it will come in handy for you during your life."

"You may be right. I'm soon getting chucked out of doors."

"Maybe so, maybe not," Emmett said mysteriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I can't say. Not allowed. I'm just a fairy, first class. I have all this knowledge, heaps and heaps of it, but I'm not allowed to interfere."

"What kind of knowledge?"

"Oh, this and that."

"Well, if I could know something that I don't," Justin said, "It would be why my stepfather is so angry and frightened with me. I've seen it in his eyes but I can't figure out why."

"Ohhh...Ohhhh...Ohhhh!!!!!" Emmett stretched his hand up way up high and waved it as if he were in school trying to get called on.

Justin looked around at the otherwise deserted room. "Yes...Emmett."

"I know why," Emmett said, but.... I can't tell you. I'm..."

"Not allowed to interfere," Justin finished along with him, "Right." His face was the picture of dejection.

"However...I AM a terrible gossip," said Emmett.

"You don't say," Justin said absently.

"I DO say! I just natter on and on and on and on and on...and the most...outrageous things...just slip out."

I see. Hmmmm...well, um, hmm. I don't really gossip much myself," Justin said. He could tell the fairy was bursting with news but he just wasn't sure how to get the ball rolling.

"Why don't you invite me to tea?" Emmett said suddenly, "I always do my BEST gossiping over a nice hot cup of tea."

Justin looked over the mounds of storage junk but otherwise empty basement. "Uhhhhhh...." He said stupidly.

"You know...tea." Emmett rolled his eyeballs pointedly and gestured not so subtly at the tablecloth.

"Ohh, right! Tea!" Justin was starting to get it. Besides that, he was dying to try that thing out anyway.

He clapped his hands twice and said, "I'm hungry, give me something to eat."

The tablecloth unfolded once, twice, three times, four times, and it was like a large picnic blanket on the floor. It was large and soft and although a great deal of food appeared there was still plenty of room to sit on it around the sides. A high tea appeared on the spread. There two teapots with steam rising out of the spouts. There were two place settings with small dishes and delicate teacups both made from delicate, white bone china. Each setting was equipped with one of those impossibly teeny spoons whose sole purpose in life was for stirring and a cloth serviette. There was butter and jampots and honeypots, and cream and sugar, and silver three tiered serving dishes laden with cakes, cookies, scones and bread. It all looked very lovely.

Justin commented on the fact and then said, "I hope this is not ALL it does. I'd hate to eat tea things for the rest of my life."

Emmett laughed his high, hooting laugh and answered, "Of COURSE not sweety! Remember, the tablecloth gives out anything you want at the moment. So just think of whatever you like and..." He clapped twice, "Activate!"

"Hey, you just told me that outright! Why can't you just tell me other things?"

"Darling! This is what I AM! This is what I DO! Caterer and party planner, remember. I can tell you anything you want to know about this cloth and food in general. It's just my other stores of knowledge...my vast, vast, stores...I'm not allowed to talk about. Fairies, first class are considered too immature to handle such responsibility. But in my opinion...well, let's just say, I've been first class for a long, long time. I'm hardly immature.

Justin gave him a look.

"Oh, you!" Emmett gave him a flapping wave and picked up a pot and poured from the nearest pot. "Oh goodie! Passion berry extreme, my favorite!"

"Justin poured out of the other one and was pleased to find Earl Grey.

"So!" Emmett gave a delicate sip from his cup, pinky up. "Have YOU heard any good gossip about?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Uh, no, I'm afraid I haven't. I..." Justin started to get it. "Uh, have YOU heard anything lately?"

"Why YES! Yes, I have! Now, this is just a delicious rumour, you understand..."

Justin nodded.

""But I heard there's an up and coming, and might I say dashingly handsome young man named Justin Taylor who's about to come of age and when his does he's due to inherit a faaaabulous estate. His house, a condom business, (I wouldn't mind getting into bed with that kind of business)" He winked. "And all the money, cars etc."

Justin gaped. But..."

"I also heard," Emmett continued meaningfully, "That the knowledge of this has been preying on the mind of his father constantly. It fills him with constant fear that little Justin will find out and is driving him quite mad. Quite round the bend."

"You don't say," Justin said shrewdly.

"I DO say," Emmett answered, "Of course, this is all just a crazy rumor."

"Of course." Justin filled his plate with edibles and munched on a cookie. "I don't suppose you've heard anything on how I'm...I mean he...is supposed o prove all of this?"

"Of course! You see the way I heard it...there's a will his mother updated two weeks before she...uh...passed on. It's supposed to be right where she left it, at the bottom of her keepsake box."

"But why haven't I heard about this! My God, this changes EVERYTHING! I mean...I don't even know where that box is anymore! For all I know he got rid of it along with all of her other stuff!"

"Well, the way I-I-I-I hear it," Emmett now was idly examining his manicure, the gay way, palm outward, "His father, as next of kin had to witness the will so he knew all about it. But before he could get his mitts on it, she hid it and he couldn't find it. So he just kept it a secret from everyone including young Justin. The box indeed was moved but since he figured it was just full of useless keepsakes, some of which he figured would increase in value over time, he just hid it his wardrobe. Left side. Bottom of the bottom drawer. Of course, this is all just a rumor."

"Of course."

They both sipped tea and ate cake and cookies while Justin digested this new infor....uh...rumors.

"What about the condom factory? I found out there are an awful lot of ones with holes in them. How is that happening? And he isn't selling them, is he?

Ooooooo, I've heard an especially juicy piece of gossip about that! It's TERRIBLE!"

"Tell me...uh, I mean, what's the rumour?

Well, of course there's going to be holes in them, if there's a small little room in the factory, where a employee is being paid to stick a pin through every third or fourth one that comes off the assembly line, isn't there? And of course he's selling them. Or so I've heard."

"This IS terrible! He's got to be stopped!"

"Oh, Justin, it's just a rumour! You shouldn't listen to me. After all, I'm only a SILLY FAIRY, FIRST CLASS," he raised his voice meaningfully to...someone.

"But still, it should be..."

"It's causing FADES, you know. Or...so I've heard. That and having sex on Thursdays. What is it with humans and getting plowed on Thursdays? It's simply the most wretched of luck!"

"Emmett...do you know the cure of FADES? I mean...have you heard anything?"

"Oh, yes!" Emmett yawned. The cakes and scones were making him rather full and drowsy. "All sorts of crazy, crazy things. You probably wouldn't believe it." He lay down on his back and closed his eyes.

Try me."

He rolled onto his side and leaned in, lightning-quick. "Well...first you need to get rid of all those broken condoms. Nasty, nasty, things, they are! Then all you have to do is have a healthy person have protected sex with a FADES infected person every Wednesday and only every Wednesday, and on the night of the full moon for four full moons. Then the person will start coming back. And he'll be cured." Emmett took a sip of tea. "Uh, so I've heard."

"That is the single most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"Well, I told you, you wouldn't believe me! But think about this. Isn't this whole disease pretty ridiculous in itself?"

Justin thought about it and had to agree. Horrible...but very, very ridiculous. And nothing else had worked.

"My God! I've got to get out of here and tell the Prince! Not to mention, I promised I'd see him at the Prom! Not that he'll know it's me, of course. Who would want a stupid Cinderfella? Besides, he doesn't do repeats." The words brought a fresh stab of pain.

"Oh honey, don't get yourself all down like that! I have a feeling he's going through a change of heart even now. That's not a rumor, just a hunch. But I think so." Emmett gave Justin a hug.

"Thanks Em."

"Hmmmm, we still need a way to get you out of here though. Hmmm...well, you know, whenever I get locked out of my place, I just use one of my credit cards." Emmett took a wallet out of his pants pockets. He rifled through it. "Ahhhh, like this one." He picked one out and showed it to Justin. It was a FOREVER...AFTER card.

"Of course, fairy credit cards are not to be trifled with. They can open any human lock in the world. Which makes them a great temptation for thieves. You're...not of that temperament...are you Justin?"

"Of course not!" Justin cried indignantly.

"No, of course not. You've got too much sunshine in that sweet soul, don't you honey?" Emmett ruffled his hair fondly.

"So, can you help me?"

"I'm afraid not. I can't actually give you this card. I'm forbidden to interfere."

"What??!!!" screamed Justin.

BANG!! BANG!! BANG!! "Hey, keep it down, down there! Go crazy on your own time!"

"Don't worry, you'll figure something out," Emmett said. He got up, turned and fluttered off. A golden shower appeared in the air. "Well, I should be going. You take care of yourself." Just before he reached the shower, he threw the credit card over his shoulder. "OOOOPS! I seem to have dropped my credit card and am unable to find it. I guess it's lost forever...after," he said in a horribly stilted voice. He winked. "Ahh well, it doesn't matter. It's maxed out anyway. I pity the fool who tries to actually charge it. Oh, yes, take it easy on the cloth over there. Be sure to say please and thank you once in a while or it'll tend to get...temperamental."

He paused, for a moment, listening to something...or someone. "Oh, Debbie says to save her a chocolate éclair. Hmmm.... she must have a sweet tooth....OWWWW! OK! OK! She's telling me to shut up and get my ass back, pronto! Gotta dash! Bye Sweety!"

And he flew into the golden shower and both it and he vanished away.

 

 

 

 

CINDERFELLA

Part 4

The Prom

 

 

For a few seconds, Justin just stood there, riveted to the spot. The sudden stillness and silence was startling.

Then he dashed forward and picked up the golden card from the floor and for a few seconds just turned it over and over in his fingers, marveling in wonder and thankfulness for this wonderful gift. Then he put it carefully away in his last remaining pocket.

He turned toward the tablecloth and saw that indeed, there were plenty of cakes and scones left including one dish with a pyramid of three large chocolate éclairs. He procured one and wrapped in carefully in an extra serviette and put it aside. Then he clapped his hands and said, "I am done. Lay all away. And...thank you." He felt a little strange addressing an inanimate object but there you go.

Everything vanished away. The now empty cloth folded itself up into a neat square and poof! As quick as you can say tickety-boo, everything was neat and tidy and ordinary again.

Justin marveled and thanked God and the fairies for his good fortune. He lay down on his mat, a little bored but no longer stressing about hunger or the future, which made things a lot better. He lay there for a few hours, mulling over everything he had been told and what he was going to do about it.

Soon the activity overhead began to increase. Thumpings and slammings were frequent. Feet ran back and forth, over and over. Excited and angry voices argued with each other. Justin chuckled. Looks like his step schleps were trying to get ready for the Prom Ball. Quietly, he crept up the stairs and tried to listen at the door.

"Where's my tie?"

"Where's my shirt?"

"Where're my shoes?"

"Where they always are! Your closet!"

"They're dirty!"

Well, clean them, fool!" Craig snarled. How's dinner coming!"

"I told you! I only know how to make cereal and sandwiches! Oh, Dad! Can't we let the Cinderfella out for a while? He'd help us if we asked nicely. Or I'll just ask him! You don't even have to look at him! He usually does all this stuff and I just don't know what to do!" wailed Michael.

"NO! He's going to stay down there until he learns who's Boss around here! If fact I may not let him out tomorrow, either! Not until he comes CRAWLING begging for a morsel of food and BEGGING for forgiveness, then MAYBE I'll let him out!" Craig yelled. He truly sounded insane now.

"Geez Dad, what's got up your craw?" Even Ethan was puzzled.

"Mind your own business! Don't you have a shirt to find?"

And on it went.

Justin listened for a while longer until it was apparent that they were gathered in the kitchen for a dinner of cold cereal, burnt toast, cheese sandwiches and apple pieces, which Michael had cut his finger on while cutting up. According to his word, he was not being left alone for a minute and was unable to return to the basement.

As soon as Justin realized this, he returned downstairs and went to the tablecloth. He thought of that lovely chicken parmigiana he had planned to make that night. He clapped his hands. "I am hungry, give me something to eat.... please."

The cloth unfolded and there it was. An elegant place setting for one appeared. There was a candle in a silver candlestick burning and a single red rose in a crystal vase. There was a flute of champagne and a tall glass of milk. There was silver cutlery on a cloth napkin that was so blue it matched his eyes. On a white china plate there was a large serving of chicken parmigiana, steamed vegetables, and a baked potato with a square of melting butter, just like Justin loved best. There was a roll of bread and on another smaller china plate was HUGE slice of devil's food cake.

Justin was delighted. He sat down cross-legged and dug in. He chuckled as he thought of the step relatives eating cold cereal, lame sandwiches, and apples as he ate this warm chicken and chocolate cake. He ate and drank until he was stuffed. Then he blew out the candle and stood. Clapping his hands, the thanked the cloth. "I am done, lay all away."

Obediently, everything vanished and it folded itself up.

Justin went up to the door and listened. There was a lot of scuffling, running around and last minute arguing and then finally the front door slammed and locked. They were gone.

Justin sat and breathed deep. He mustn't rush. Carefully, he counted slowly to 100. He listened. Nothing. They were really gone.

Taking out the credit card, he put it between the door and the jamb. He moved it down and wiggled the doorknob. There was a ‘click' and the door easily opened.

Justin moved quickly. He dashed upstairs to Craig's room. It was locked. Justin used the card on it and it opened obediently. He went to the wardrobe. It was locked. Justin slid the card between the two doors. ‘Click!'

Left side. Bottom drawer. Locked. Surprise! Surprise! ‘Click!"

At the bottom was his mother's treasure box. Justin teared up a little. He never thought he'd see it again. Quickly he searched through it, till he found a thick envelope at the bottom. He grabbed it and opened the contents and saw the large calligraphied letters: LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. Bingo.

Justin stuffed the will back into the envelope. He replaced everything else in the treasure box and put it back in the drawer. He replaced everything back in the drawer as he had found it. He shut the drawer and paused. He wondered.

He slid the card in and jiggled it around. There was a ‘click.' The drawer was locked. Fantastic.

Justin closed the wardrobe and locked it. He grabbed the envelope, got out of there, locked the door. Ran downstairs to the basement, removed the brick and stuffed the will and the Prince's armband into the hidey-hole. It was getting crowded in there. It now held: The white gold ring, leather armband, bowl of condoms, and the Will, but Justin figured he had room for a few more items. He closed everything up, hid the tablecloth under his straw mat, grabbed the saved éclair, and ran upstairs, out of the house and into the back garden at last.

"Debbie! Debbie! Are you there? Will you help me again?"

"There was a shower of sparks. "Of course Sunshine! I've been waiting for you."

"Oh good! Thank you! I had to...Oh, my! Why are you wearing that?"

Tonight Debbie was wearing valentine shaped red tinted sunglasses, red furry collar with a valentine clasp, a two toned red striped fur coat, a red skirt, and grey gloves. Ever present was the thick red lipstick and red frizzy hair.

"Because tonight's formal night baby! And although you're going in the flesh, I'll be there in spirit! And this is what I always wear to parties I crash!"

"Now that, I believe!" said Justin with an impish smile.

"Anyway, angel, what were you saying? What took you so long?"

"Oh yeah, I had to take care of a few things. That is - uhhh - I mean..."

"I know just what you had to take care of! That was pretty shrewd of Emmett to skirt the rules and tell you all that. He and I had a long talk and..."

"Oh, I hope he's not in trouble! Look, I'll take responsibility, I made him..."

"And I gave him his promotion!"

"Oh, that's wonderful! Thank you Debbie!" Justin sagged in relief.

"Funny! That's just what HE said!" Debbie quipped, "Now, back to you! Did you bring the chocolate éclair?

"Yes, I did. Here you go!" Justin held it up.

"Thanks but no thanks, Sunshine! Put it over there on the ground and then go to the mousetrap and bring me the black rat you find in it."

Justin hurried to comply. When he returned with the rodent, he found Debbie was already done and had transformed the éclair into a sleek, black, stretch limo.

ZAP! The sleek black rat grew and stood up and grew some more and POOF! He transformed into a chauffeur with a sleek black uniform with skintight black leather gloves.

After giving him the directive to wait, Debbie zapped them to the driveway.

She rubbed her palms together in glee. "Hang onto your edible underwear, Sunshine! We're going to make you live up to your name!"

With that, she held out her palms and blasted him with both hands. Justin was engulfed in a pillar of light that could be seen at the palace. (had anybody been looking) Justin felt himself change both inside and out. His tunic and ripped pants and wooden shoes were burned away and he felt his weary soul melt away as well. He felt rejuvenated and confident and sexy. The pillar of light moved closer and closer and suddenly he was the light. He was made of light. And he could feel it. The light pulsed through him. He absorbed the light and then they were one and the same. It faded and he stepped forth.

Justin was wearing a black tux, a white shirt, a charcoal blue bow tie, and shiny black, leather loafers. His teeth gleamed a lovely white. His eyes were piercingly bright, like blue fire. His hair was a beautiful part to the right. It was luminescently blond. It literally glowed like living light, as if that pillar now lived within his head. And perhaps it did. Justin felt that he could control it, turn it dimmer and brighter at will.

Debbie sniffed in happiness. "This is my crowning achievement. It really is. You are beautiful Sunshine. Tonight, you are Sunshine!"

"Yes. I feel it. I have never felt like this before. I can feel a well of untapped joy waiting for me to unplug it. I feel as if I did, I could light the world!"

You would. You really would. So you need to be careful Justin. Take it easy on the Prince and the other mortals at the party. Also, this is a formal, so there are no masks tonight. Instead I can give you a cloaking spell but there will be a price to pay. The spells will break at midnight tonight so you must get home by then. Agreed?"

Agreed."

ZAP!

BJBJBJBJBJ

The limo pulled up to the entrance to the castle.

"I'll be in the parking lot sir," the chauffeur said as he opened the door, "Call me when you need me, and I shall pick you up here."

"Thank you." Justin stepped out. He walked up the purple stairs for the third time and flashed the guards a brilliant smile and turned up his shine. The guards, dressed formally for the occasion were properly dazzled and thought he was royalty. They showed him to the right ballroom without question.

Justin was led to a third ballroom. This one was named THE GYM BALLROOM over the door. A guard opened the door and Justin was ushered inside.

This ballroom looked like a giant gymnasium with different lines painted all over it and a hardwood floor. The room was decorated with crepe paper and a flashing lights and a disco ball that reflected that light everywhere. It was of course, packed with wall-to-wall people, all who were in formal wear, Men in tuxes, women in ball gowns. There was a close gay/straight mix.

Up to that point, Prince Brian was very depressed. He was bored and lonely and he missed Ash. Or...whoever Ash was. He was also angry with his parents and himself. That morning, his father had reminded him that he had yet to find a true love and that he must make a choice at the end of the evening or their deal to have Brian ascend the throne would be null and void. But he was angry with himself because he didn't know if he could do it. The stubborn walls around his heart would not let him commit to one person. He still did not really want to do repeats. Although if that were true, why couldn't he get a certain pair of piercing blue eyes out of his head!

Since the ball began an hour or so ago, Brian had been looking and looking at the different men. Too tall...Brown hair...blond hair but green eyes. He was also pissed off because there seemed to be loads of blonds here but whenever he turned one around, there was something lacking. It wasn't...him. But who was...he anyway. And every time he poked someone, he was obliged to dance with him. But it was never him, it was always all wrong. They didn't fit together well. And his boredom, frustration and depression would rise.

And then HE entered. Everyone turned to look. Everyone was drawn to look. And Brian knew. Brian knew it was him.

The man who entered was about 5'8" and was about 18 years old. He was dressed in a handsome tux but what everyone noticed and marveled at was that the young man had blond hair that glowed with an internal light and sparkling, piercingly blue eyes.

The man smiled at everyone, basking in the attention. His smile lit up his face in rapturous joy and his hair glowed an even brighter gold. The light bathed his face golden and reached up off his head toward the ceiling. It created his own spotlight. Similar to the White Party, it was as if he was standing alone in the dark under a streetlight. Only this time it was a light generated from inside him.

The man scanned the crowded room until he found Brian. When he saw him in another blond man's arms his smile faltered a bit and his shine went down a little but he recovered quickly. Their eyes met and locked.

He strode across the ballroom and went up to Prince Brian. Everyone made way for him, as he knew they would.

He bowed before the Prince. "Good evening, Prince Brian, this is a wonderful Ball. I bow before you."

"It is I who should bow before you," Brian returned softly. Then he shook his head slightly. Where did that come from?

"The young man smiled brilliantly. "Time will tell," he said, I see you have a dance partner. However, if you get a chance, I would love it if you would dance with me."

"I -I..." Brian's throat closed. What the hell? Did he have a dry throat? What was going on here?

Justin bowed again and turned away. A little ways off he found a pretty girl about his own age with black frizzy hair and asked her to dance. Justin knew she would not refuse.

The girl's name was Daphne and she was in an honors scholarship education program that was being funded by the Prince and would allow her to become a physics teacher in another two years. Justin liked her immediately.

They danced a dance and were halfway through their second when Justin was aware of a presence behind them. He turned and smiled.

Brian was standing a short distance away. He wore a black suit and a black shirt with no tie. The shirt was open at the top exposing his throat and the top of his chest hair. Around his neck was a white silk scarf and on his head he wore a simple gold coronet with rubies set into it all the way around in a line.

Justin just stared, drinking the Prince's beauty. His eyes were brown with gold flecks tonight.

"Good evening your Majesty. How is your dance partner?" He tried not to sound jealous and succeeded. Mostly.

"Gone."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. You see...I was looking for you. And once you tap someone on the shoulder at these things...well, you have to take him once around the floor. But he is not my partner. You are."

"Time will tell. So what made you decide on a Prom?"

"What can I say? I thought I d recapture my lost youth."

He spoke to Daphne, but couldn't tear his eyes from the blue eyes he knew so well.

"You look hot Daphne. I'd fuck you. Mind if I borrow your date?" he said. His voice carried, assuring that her dance card would be full for the rest of the night.

"Sure." She curtsied. "You two have fun."

Brian hooked a finger through Justin's bow tie and led him onto the dance floor. A snappy song with a lot of acoustic guitar came on. Brian swept Justin into his arms. They fit together like a lock and a key. Brian was able to let go of his frustration and depression at last. He sighed with a deep contentment.

Justin was filled with joy. His sunshine grew brighter and created their own personal spotlight. Everyone stopped and gave them room to dance and to witness the beautiful wonder. But as for Brian and Justin...they were alone.

As they began to dance, Brian took off the scarf and placed it around Justin's neck He took his hand and twirled him once twice three times. Justin held an arm stiff behind himself, in the masculine fashion. Brian grabbed him about the waist again and their bodies mashed together, again in a perfect fit. Brian moved it for a kiss but at the last minute Justin moved away, teasing him. Justin spun him around so that he was pressed up against his back and pulled his jacket half way off, trapping him. Brian smiled delightedly play struggling against the bondage. Then Justin pulled it all the way off and threw it to Daphne who laughed delightedly. She had never seen the Prince so happy. She gave his coat to an attendant.

Justin took of the scarf and wrapped it back around Brian's neck and used it to pull him closer. They danced around again and Brian twirled Justin again in a masculine fashion, once twice, three times. They swayed and danced to the music a bit more and Brian dipped him back deeply. Justin smiled in supreme joy. When they came upright again Brian arm went round his waist and he grabbed him and roughly pressed him to him. They spun around and Brian lifted Justin off his feet. Before he put him down he moved in again and this time kissed him. With his feet of the ground, Justin was off balance and unable to pull back this time while Brian kissed the daylights out of him. And happily, Justin kissed the daylights out of Brian right back.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

Afterwards, Brian and Justin found a quiet corner and some punch. Brian began the ritual.

"What is your name? Your real name?"

"That I cannot tell thee."

"Please. You make me so happy. If you are afraid, I'll protect you."

"I'm afraid the only name I can leave you with is Sunshine."

Brian looked at him shrewdly. "But that is not you're name."

"No."

"Just like it isn't Starshine."

"I know who that is, but that is not my name." Justin answered honestly.

"Just like it isn't Ash."

"I know who that is, but that is not my name." Justin repeated.

"But you are the one and the same! Aren't you? Aren't you! I can tell by your eyes. You all have the same eyes!"

"We have many things in common," Justin said, also honestly.

"Like what?"

"We have a mutual friend."

"Who?"

That you must discern for yourself."

"Damn it Sunshine! You're making me crazy!"

"I know. And yet you love me. Don't you? Don't you?"

Brian said nothing. Instead he gave a strangled cry and mashed their lips together in a fierce need, grabbing the back of Justin's head, running his fingers through his sunshine hair.

He pulled back and his brown eyes asked questions his heart and mouth could not.

Justin pulled him toward the dance floor by the ends of his scarf.

Come. Let's dance some more for tonight my time is short. All too soon, this night will vanish like the dream it is."

Justin and the Prince danced stomach-to-stomach, chest-to-chest, cheek-to-cheek, all night long. If anybody tried to cut in, Brian would hug Justin close to him and say: "He is my partner."

Three dances in, Justin felt it was time to strike.

"My Prince, I know these dances are also an attempt to find out the cause and cure of FADES."

"Ahhh here we go! You are aware that there is a substantial reward for that don't you?"

"I do. But I seek no reward. And besides I cannot tell thee. But our mutual friend can. You must seek him out and find him. And when you find him you will find us. Starshine, Ash, and Sunshine, all together.

"Who is he? Who is this friend?" Where can I find him?"

"For both our safety, I cannot tell you."

"Is there anything you CAN tell me? Please! This disease will kill us all! And I want to see you again. Whoever you want to be, I don't care, I want to be with you again."

"Yes. I can tell you that I'm a terrible gossip!"

Brian was much more astute than he had been. He grabbed him around the waist and pressed their cocks together. As he swayed them gently back and forth, grinding their cocks together, he leaned close and growled, "Oh really! And what have you heard, little boy!?"

Justin smiled.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

Much later and many dances later:

 

In the dim and flashing lights, all around he ballroom, couples swayed gently and turned to the slow music. In the very center, illuminated with their own steady light, Brian and Justin danced slowly, turning, turning.

"My time grows short," Justin said. "I have time for one more dance but I must return home by midnight."

"Earlier than usual, Sunshine?"

"Regrettable but necessary, I'm afraid, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that. Not you. Call me Brian."

"It'd be my honor and pleasure, Your - Brian."

They kissed and swayed to the slow beat.

"This has been the best night of my life," said Justin.

"I must admit...it was ridiculously romantic."

They kissed again. Slowly. Deeply.

"Let's go to the back room. We'll fu-..."

Sunshine pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shhhh. None of that now. Not this time. Tonight is for romance, as you said. Just promise me. Promise me you'll remember me. Promise that you will remember what I told...uh...what we talked about. Seek out our mutual friend and you will find me."

"I will. I promise."

They turned slowly in place, smiling, kissing, nipping, and kissing more, reveling in their happiness.

"All right, no more about the back room. But don't go. Stay. Stay the night with me."

"Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and I'll never have to leave you again."

Brian looked at him. He opened his mouth. Then his eyes hardened in rebellion and pain. " That's not what I meant. Spend the night. We'll go somewhere nice. But I don't do repeats. There's no such thing as love."

"You know that's not true. Why do you continue to deny your feelings?"

But it was as if a wall had come down. "I'm a queer. Queers fuck. Love is for straights and munchers."

Justin felt his light dim to almost nothing. "Then I suppose I must go. A tear ran down his cheek. "I pray you, give me a token so I'll remember you and this night for always."

Slowly, Brian drew off his white, silken scarf and wrapped it around the back of Justin's neck. Justin turned to go.

Brian caught his hand. "Please. Don't leave like this. Why is me saying the words so important? Haven't I shown you love? Offered to fuck you? What more is there?"

Justin drew a hand across his cheek. Brian leaned into the caress.

"There is much, much more, my Prince. Remember what has passed between us. If you seek me you will find me. And when next we meet, you will know the answer to that question." A tear ran down his cheek. "Goodbye."

He turned and started to walk out of the ballroom. Brian was again left bereft and alone.

Remember what has passed between us...I love you...Tell me you love me...None of that now. Not this time...Promise you'll remember me...Remember me...Not this time...Remember me....Not this time...Remember...Not this time...Not this time...

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Brian yelled. Everyone looked at him but he was oblivious. He ran for the door, which was just closing. He barreled through. He caught sight of a slight figure, also running full out. He chased after him.

Sunshine! Sunshine, wait!"

Sunshine ran faster.

"Come back! I remembered something!"

Sunshine rounded a corner, ran down that hall and the door was in sight. But Brian was hot on his heels and before he could reach it, Brian tackled him. They both went down in a tangle of arms and legs and rolled over and over, Justin desperately tried to gain a few feet toward the door. But it was no use. He ended up flat on his back with Brian straddling him on top. Brian pinned him by his wrists. Sunshine struggled valiantly but it was no use.

"Let me go!"

Brian did no such thing. He leaned down and kissed him, long and soft, then deep, still pinning him. Sunshine struggled remembering the Leather Ball, and he moaned in pleasures and kissed back. His light turned back on a few notches.

"I remembered something. It WAS you those other two nights. You said, none of that now...not this time. Which means we HAVE done this before!" You are Ash! And Starshine!"

Sunshine struggled, and then collapsed defeated. He nodded. "Let me up?"

"Promise you won't run away?"

"Yes."

Brian let him up and then slammed him against the wall. He kissed him roughly again, bruising his rosy lips.

You cheeky bastard! You made me do a repeat! But why did you say you weren't the other two? Why did you lie?"

"I did not lie! I was them but I am not really Ash or Starshine. I am not even Sunshine! I am yet a fourth."

"Who? Who are you?"

"I am nobody! I am a son scorned and rejected by his family. I am a son made a slave in his own home! I am so many other things, so shameful, you cannot imagine and it is beneath you to even try! All I wanted to do was come to your balls but my father would not even give me suit. So I accepted some help...from a godparent." And Brian's skeptical glance he amended. "Yes...a magical godparent."

Brian dropped his hands. They hung heavily to his sides. "So...It was all a lie. All a lie."

"NO! The only thing about me that is not real is my outward appearance. I have never spoken or told you anything that is a lie. You're right. I m not Sunshine or dusted with moonbeams and Starlight! But I love you. Do what I told you! Seek who I really am, and you will find me!"

As he talked, Justin slowly moved toward the door. Step...by...step. He was nearly there.

Suddenly, Brian rushed at him and jumped on him again.

"I am Prince of the Loft! You don't tell me what to do!" He yelled. "I tell you! And I order you to tell me the truth! Who are you?!?!"

They were at the door.

Justin yelled, "Car of Black! Take me back!"

"Oh no, you don't! If you won't answer me, maybe a few days in the dungeon will loosen your tongue!"

"No! I can't let that happen! Justin ran down the stairs but Brian caught him before he got 5 steps down. Holding him by the wrists, he pulled him back. Justin struggled but it was not use. Brian easily pulled him back toward the door.

"Brian! Stop! Stop, Brian, please! Brian! Stop! All right! I'll tell you who I am!"

Brian stopped. He turned, waited.

"It's a secret."

Justin stepped up to the top of the stairs. He leaned against the Prince and whispered in his ear.

"Remember our gossip. Remember the Taylors. Forgive me for this my love. You've given me no choice. I love you."

Justin pressed into Brian and kissed him hard. He reached deep down inside him and felt that well of great love and happiness and let forth a burst of it for just a second, full force.

BOOOOOOMMM!!!! The night was lit up like day and there was a shock wave. The shock wave slammed Brian backwards and knocked him twenty feet back into the castle hallway. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Justin ran the other way, down the stairs, toward the waiting car. On the way, he met a guard.

"What was that noise?" asked the guard.

I don't know!" replied Justin, "But the Prince needs help! He's up there! Hurry!"

As the guard moved off to investigate, Justin jumped in the back of the waiting limo. The chauffeur slammed the door behind him and rushed around the front to his own door and hopped in.

"Home! Fast as you can!"

They peeled away. It was only then that Justin realized he had lost his right loafer. It must have come off in one of their scuffles.

They were only three blocks away from the castle when midnight started to chime ONE! TWO! THREE!

"OH no, I'm too late!" FOUR! FIVE!

"I can get us home, master! But I'll need your Sunshine! SIX SEVEN!

"Take it! Take what you need!" EIGHT! NINE!

The chauffeur stepped on the pedal. There was a strange whooshing sound; a blur and suddenly they were in the driveway.

"We're home little master. Good bye!" TEN! ELEVEN! TWELVE!

CRACK!!! Everything melted away and evaporated into mist and Justin was sitting in the driveway in front of a moldy chocolate éclair in his old clothes and wooden shoes and a black rat, which ran off into the dark.

Wait. There were two things more. The Prince's scarf and his remaining, black, beautiful leather loafer. Debbie had let him keep it as a souvenir.

Sighing, he went inside. He went downstairs rolled up the scarf, bricked it and the shoe up in the wall, and went to bed.

BJBJBJBJBJ

Meanwhile, back at the castle, Brian was unconscious for about 5 minutes. The guards attended him and put something under his head

"Ohhhh...who are you?...Tell me...Taylor!... Taylors! Who are...? Brian gave a shuddering gasp and woke up.

"Sire! Are you all right!?"

"Where is he?"

Where is who, my Prince?"

"There was a man here. We struggled. Where is he?"

"I remember someone," someone said, "He told me about you. He said you needed help. So I came running. He got into his car and left."

"He told you I needed help?"

"Yes Sire. He seemed very concerned."

"I see." Brian lay back for a moment.

"Sire. I have found something." Brian was handed a black loafer.

"Good work. OK boys, help me up."

"Are you well enough to return to the Ball, Sire?"

"No. Help me to bed. Tell everyone they can go home whenever they like. Oh and tell my parents I've made my decision."

"Yes, Majesty."

When he was in bed, he told the butler, "Summon my investigator!"

When he came, he bowed before the Prince. "How can I serve you, my Prince?"

The investigator was dressed all in black. He wore a low, black wide brimmed hat. Down his back he wore a deep black cloak. He wore a patch on one eye and had a scar on his cheek.

"I want you to find out everything you can about the Taylor Condom Co. Find out everything you can about the Taylor family. Where they live, who they are, how old they are, etc. I want a full dossier on my bedside table by the time I wake up."

"Master, it shall be done!" He clicked his heels. Swirling his cape, he ran out the door.

Brian shuddered. The guy was uber creepy but he had never failed him yet.

 

He put the loafer on the bedside table beside him, turned out the light and went to bed.

 

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 5

The Search

 

 

Justin awoke early. After years of practice, it was easy. He got up off his simple, straw mat and stretched.

He went upstairs and very quietly repeated his bathing ritual. Fortunately, he didn't need to take as long as last time and in no time he was scrubbed shiny and his hair was like shining, spun gold.

Dressing in his rags again, he went out into the garden and quickly picked a bowl of strawberries.

Then he went back inside and rummaged around in a cupboard. He found an apron with a deep pocket. He slipped the apron over his head and tied it around his back. Then he went to prepare breakfast for the three most grateful men on Earth.

He stirred and whipped cream, mixed and baked and soon all was in readiness. He started the coffee. He braced himself.

One minute. Two. Three. And....

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Here they came.

"Good Morning!" said Justin pleasantly, as he did every morning. He turned. He was scrubbed and bright and his apron read KISS THE COOK! HE'S GAY!

"What the HELL are you doing here?!" yelled Craig.

"Good morning, stepfather. Charming, as always, I see. I'm making breakfast."

"I mean what are you doing out of the basement? Who the HELL let you out?"

"I let myself out," said Justin as if it were the most reasonable answer in the world, "Who else was going to make breakfast? Speaking of which, this morning, I have made coffee, orange juice..." here he looked at Michael meaningfully and placed the OJ carafe on the table. "...and pancakes with fresh whipped cream and sliced strawberries."

With amusement, Justin noticed a line of drool run out of the side of Ethan's mouth and down his chin.

"I don't care if you made a breakfast fit for a Prince! You're supposed to be locked in the basement!" Craig snarled.

"Ohhh, I see. Well, that's too bad." Justin picked up Ethan's plate again just at Ethan was about to spear some pancake. His fork hit the tablecloth. "If I'm supposed to be down in the basement, then I'm not really here. And if I'm not really here, then I didn't make this breakfast. If I didn't make this breakfast, then I guess it doesn't really exist..." He held the plate of four pancakes topped with fluffy whipped cream and strawberries over the garbage can.

There was a kind of blur and the plate vanished out of his hand as if...by magic.

And then Ethan was back at the table, forking in pancakes as if his life depended on it. (After a day of nothing but sandwiches and cereal, perhaps it did) "Omm mogg na waaa naaaa," he said, his mouth full.

"What was that? Ethan, don't talk with your mouth full!" Craig yelled. He seemed to have two volumes lately, loud and louder.

Ethan swallowed. "I said, leave him alone Dad."

Michael dug in and poured some OJ. "Thank you, Justin," he said meekly.

"You're welcome, Michael," he said sincerely.

"Uh, ‘eah...anks, ustin..." said Ethan, his mouth full again.

Craig looked ready to explode. Justin ignored him and just continued serving breakfast. "You know, I really would think about changing your tone stepfather. After all, I turn 18 in a week and I can see 2 possibilities happening. One...I'm kicked out...or I leave...and you three are going to be left here alone to either fend for yourselves or hire someone to replace me. And believe me, if you're planning on treating them the way you treat me, you'll have to pay them...A LOT. Or Two...I kick YOU out of MY house. And we both know this house is really mine...Don't we stepfather?" Justin looked him square in his beady little eyes.

Craig looked back at him and snarled, "Oh yeah? Why don't you prove it?"

Justin smiled pleasantly in a way Craig didn't like and sat down to eat. "Where there's a will, there's a way," he said.

Craig's face went from red to white.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

Brian awoke late. After years of practice, it was easy. He sat up and swung his legs over his king-size feather bed. He stretched the kinks out.

The loafer was still on his bedside table. Only now, it was sitting atop a yellow file folder.

Brian picked up the shoe and traced a finger up and down the length of it a few times. He thought fondly of the last few nights and he thought hard about what he was going to do. He sighed.

Then he slowly put the shoe back on the folder. He went into the bathroom to shower and dress.

About a half hour later, he emerged again, feeling refreshed. He sat down at his desk with the folder and opened it up.

The Taylor Condom Company was the leading condom supplier for the Loft. Profits were fairly good. They supplied a lot of people with jobs. Because of the epidemic, they were currently under quality investigation. Results were still pending. Hmmmm. We'll see about that.

There were a few legal and technical documents and a floor plan of the factory. Brian gave these a cursory glance before turning them over. He'd have his lawyer look those over.

Next were four headshots and the vital statistics of the family members of this dynasty.

Craig Taylor. Widowed and single. 55 years old. Brian winced. Ughhh! What a troll! CEO of Taylor Condoms. Blue eyes. Brown hair. Blah! Blah! Blah! An address.

Michael Taylor. 28 years old. Single. Brown hair. Green eyes. Boy next door good looks. Kinda cute. Vice President. Same address.

Ethan Taylor. 18 years old. Single. Holy Shit! It was the guy on the spanking bench; the one Ash had paddled pink! Vice-vice President. Hmmmm, kinda young for that. Brian smelled the stench of nepotism. Same address.

Brian turned over Ethan's picture and gasped.

There he was. Justin Taylor. 17 years old. Single. Brian noted the birth date and was satisfied to note he would be legal in a week. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Thin. Cast down eyes. Look of.... Supreme...sadness. What was going on here? The damned picture looked like a mug shot. He looked for his position in the company. Varied and indeterminate. What the FUCK did that mean? Same address.

Bingo. His boy-o had a name-o.

Brian slammed the folder closed.

He put on a few chains including an impressive one with a large ruby in a gold setting and one of his more impressive coronets and went to go see his parents.

BJBJBJBJBJ

"So, my son, we are told that you have made a decision regarding your choice in a mate. Is this true?"

"It is, father," Brian replied.

"Who is it? Where is he? Can we meet him?" his parents eagerly asked.

"Not yet. There are...complications."

"What are these complications, my son?"

"The man I met at the festivals came in disguise. Every time I pressed him for his name he was evasive and then he fled. The last time he did, he dropped this." He showed them the shoe. "The man who fits this shoe, it is he who I will marry."

"His parents looked at each other. They tried very hard not to laugh and did an admirable job.

Brian winced. It sounded ridiculous out loud, even to his own ears.

"Uh, son? Are you sure you kept these events...uh...drug free?"

"Yes, dammit! He was real! Especially last night! I've never had a more magical night."

"OK. But even if he does exist, that's a pretty blanket statement. That shoe could belong to anybody. Fit any number of men."

"No. It is my belief that it is a custom fit. It will fit only one man."

"But then who? Why was he disguised? Do you have anything to go on?"

"I believe he disguised himself to hide from his family who are abusing him. During the last Ball he...told me some things about the Taylor Condom Co. They might be causing or at least spreading FADES."

"They are a large business, my son. That is a serious accusation. Do you have any proof?"

"Not yet. But I plan to get it. And to visit the Taylors. It is my belief that when I do I will find my groom. Also, in the meantime, it might be a good idea to institute a Loft-wide recall of Taylor Condoms."

""That's a very serious move, Brian. Without the proper proof, this could have very serious..."

"Dammit, father, this IS serious. I will get you proof. But in the meantime people could be fu - using faulty condoms right now and getting FADES! This is no time for bureaucracy!"

"Very well Brian! I'll issue the recall decree! But you better be right about this! Keep us informed. If you find...him...bring him along to meet us. I'd like to meet this young man who has captured my son's heart and still remains such a mystery."

"So would I, Dad. So would I. I'll be in touch!"

Brian strode out of the throne room.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

Brian's first stop was the condom factory. An oily, obsequious, PR man met him and gave him a tour of the factory. Everything seemed to be in order but Brian got the feeling that everything was a little too perfect. He demanded to see the quality control and inspection rooms and found everything to be in order. Dammit.

"Where are the Taylors today? Didn't they come in to work?" he asked brusquely.

"They all went to the Prom last night and decided to take the day off," the oily man said, "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Thank you for your time."

Brian left and got into his limo. "Take me here," he told his driver, giving him the address.

The oily man watched him drive off through the window. He picked up the phone.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

"Oh, shit!" Craig said, slamming down the phone. "You are never going to guess who's on his way over here! Prince Brian!"

Michael and Ethan gasped. Justin's insides did flip-flops but at the same time, he just had a deep, warm, gooey sense of relief. He was coming. He was coming for him at last.

"Who was that Dad?" Ethan asked.

"It was Mr. Gonzales at the factory. The Prince came looking for us there. Strange, he sounded a little upset. Like we should be worried or something. But I can't imagine why. OH...MY...GOD!!"

"What, Dad?"

"One of you must have impressed him somehow at his Balls!!"

Justin bit his tongue to keep silent. He just kept polishing, polishing.

"But Dad, he was with a different man every night! He didn't even see me at the White Party and then I spent the Leather Ball and the Prom with Ben!" protested Michael.

"Yeah! And he told me he totally wasn't into me at the Leather Ball!" said Ethan.

"Well, one of you must have done something! Michael! Go upstairs, and get changed into something nice!"

Justin just kept polishing, polishing.

"But Dad, I don't want to marry the Prince anymore! I'm with Ben now!"

"Nonsense! A Prince and a kingdom beats a knight any day! Besides, that zero has FADES! He might as already be in the ground!"

Michael's face contorted in rage. But there were no words to match his feelings so he just turned and stalked upstairs.

"ETHAN!!!

"I'm right here Dad!"

"Oh, right! Before you get dressed I need your help with a little....problem."

Justin felt the sudden silence before he heard it. Uh oh.

He turned to face Craig and Ethan standing there with their arms crossed. "Hi guys...what's going on?"

"You don't think we're actually going to let you embarrass us in front of the Prince, do you Cinderfella?" said Craig, "Now get your ass and rags down to the basement."

Justin took a step back. "Why don't you just let me dress in something decent?" suggested Justin, then turned and bolted. They gave chase. Justin managed to lead them around the house twice before they cut him off. Craig grabbed him in a bear hug from behind and Ethan gave him a tap to the solar plexus. Justin collapsed.

"Shit, he's here! Hurry up!" Craig carried him over to the basement and threw him down the stairs like a sack of garbage. The door slammed and locked just as the doorbell rang.

Justin rolled over and over down the stairs. He landed and lay gasping for breath on the floor. It was a few minutes before he could move. The incinerator belched out a bit of ash and soot, highlighting his hair with darkness and coating the upper half of his face with soot.

It was another few minutes before he made his way back up the stairs. He reached into the pocket of his apron and plucked out a golden card.

As he reached the door, he paused for a minute to hear what was going on.

"Look!" Prince Brian was saying, "What is wrong with you? I am not here for either of these two men! Besides the shoe did not even fit Michael! Doesn't that clue you in!?"

"Try it on me, Prince Brian," simpered Ethan, "Do you like music? If I had my violin, I'd play something for you!"

"Oh? Where is it?"

"Oh...uh...well, it fell. It broke."

"What a shame," Brian said mechanically, "Oh, very well! Here! Try it!"

Scuffling and grunting noises.

"All right! That's enough! Your heel definitely won't go in. Your foot's too big! And I hate fuckin' fiddle music! Now, for the last time, I'm here because I heard some serious allegations about your condoms being prone to break and spreading FADES! I want to talk to Justin Taylor!"

"Who? There's no -"

Justin slid the card and turned the knob. CLICK! It seemed to spring open twice as easy as before.

Justin threw open the door in a big TA-DAH! type reveal. "Did I hear someone call my name?" he called innocently.

There he was. Wow, Prince Brian just got more gorgeous every time Justin saw him. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a maroon tie. He wore a few golden chains including one with a large red ruby in it. On his head he wore a 5-inch thick gold coronet with a ring of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds set into it in an alternate pattern.

There he was. He had dirt on his face and soot in his hair but he knew those blue, blue eyes anywhere. He was wearing (what the hell was that anyway, sackcloth?) a tunic and wooden shoes and he was still the most beautiful man on Earth.

"I did, if you are Justin Taylor," Brian said, knowing very well he was."

"I-"

"Your Majesty, forgive me. This is my idiot stepson. We kept him down in the basement because he's a halfwit and we didn't want to cause a-"

"Prince Brian! Welcome to my home," Justin interrupted smoothly, "Would you like to sit down? Let me show you to our best chair. It is, of course, nothing like what you are used to at the palace, but it's the best we have. Can I get you anything to drink? Scotch? Jim Beam perhaps?"

"I love Jim Beam. But I'd rather keep a clear head right now, thank you. He doesn't sound half witted," he said to Craig.

"Well, I-I-I-I-I-"

"Do you know the penalty for lying to royalty?" asked Brian softly, dangerously.

"I-I-I-I-I-I-"

"Severe." Craig was sufficiently frightened into silence.

"I don't want to sit down," Brian growled, towering over Justin.

Justin gulped. "Yes sir."

"I like your apron message. It's hot."

"What?" (KISS THE COOK! HE'S GAY!) Justin blushed. "Oh yeah! Heh heh! It's just supposed to be - "

"Don't mind if I do," Brian moved in for a hard, closed mouth kiss.

"Oh, well, I was just wearing it for - mmmmphhhh -" The kiss was longer and the Prince's tongue flicked his lips before pulling back.

"Well, you are the Prince...mmmph...mmmmmmm..." A deep, consuming, killer kiss.

And then there was about a minute where time stopped.

"Just what the HELL is going on here!?" Craig yelled.

"Is he always like this?" Brian asked.

"Worse. Mostly," answered Justin.

"You three. Sit down and SHUT UP!" yelled Brian.

They sat down and shut up.

"So. Now you know. This is what I am. What I really am. As I said, a son...no, a stepson scorned and made a slave by his family. These are the only clothes I have to wear. Is it any wonder I accepted...outside help to go to your festival?"

"You did what?" Craig yelled.

Justin ignored him.

"I'm sorry Brian. I'm sorry I made you do a repeat. I'm sorry I had to knock you out for a few minutes. But I couldn't let you see me turn back into...into this. And most of all, I'm sorry I am ME!! I'm sorry I'm just a silly, cindered out, Cinderfella! You deserve the best."

"You're right. I do deserve the best!" Brian said.

Justin nodded miserably. He turned and began to walk back towards the dark maw of misery and despair that was the basement and his destiny.

He felt a pair of large, strong hands grip his shoulders. Justin froze and his heart stopped.

The large, strong hands turned him around. One hand snaked around his waist and mashed their crotches together. The other hand lifted his chin with a forefinger until he was looking into a pair of golden eyes.

Justin was hypnotized.

"The man I deserve gave me the three most amazing nights of my life. A night of beauty and purity. A night of dark and erotic kink. And a night of romance that I was looking for but would never let myself feel before. The man I seek, left a most distinctive shoe behind. I believe it will fit only him."

He held up the soft, leather loafer. "I believe this is yours."

"There's only one way to find out," said Justin softly.

"YAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! AND YOU'LL NEVER FIND OUT!!" With a burst of adrenaline and pure insanity, Craig burst up like an evil jack in the box. He broke between them, pushing them apart and off balance. He grabbed the loafer.

Michael jumped onto his father's back and tried to stop him. "No, Dad! It's over! Stop it! Stop it right now! "I'm not going to let you..."

But no one found out what he was not going to let him do because Craig threw him off and gave him a good roundhouse punch. Michael was thrown back. His head hit a wooden globe on the bottom of the banister. He was knocked unconscious.

Craig gave a shriek of triumph and threw the shoe into the fireplace..

"NOOO!" Brian grabbed the tongs and grabbed the flaming shoe. He carried it into the kitchen, threw it into the sink, and pumped water over it. But it was too late. With the combined fire and water damage, the shoe was a sodden misshapen lump.

"Why!? Why!? For once in your miserable life tell me why? Why are you so determined to make my life miserable! Why did you never show me the love and attention you show your own sons? Shouldn't the love and the memory of my mother be enough for you to at least let me be happy?"

"Why should it? I never loved your mother! I married her for her money, you idiot!"

"I knew it!" Justin screamed.

"And then she up and got FADES, so I knew she'd been unfaithful. I knew she'd gone outside our marriage. So I hated her all the more and you along with her. And then she died, and I was saddled with you even though you're not mine. How could I love you? Does a horse love a burr under his saddle? Can you love a rock that gets in your shoe?"

Justin nodded and ignored the knife of pain ripping through his gut.

"Wait a minute! FADES wasn't found to be an STD until after my mother died. How would you know if she got it that way unless...OH...MY...GOD! YOU KNEW! You knew FADES was sexually transmitted! You knew and you never told anybody! But how!?"

"I'd like to know that myself, said Brian.

"Please! You don't work in a condom factory without finding out a few things," was all that Craig would say.

"You...unmitigated...bastard! You'll come up on charges for this! And THIS!" he growled, holding up the shoe.

"For what! Ruining your outfit?" Craig laughed snidely.

"I am going to BREAK...YOUR...FACE!" growled Brian, pulling his fist back.

"Brian, wait! There's no need for that!"

"Oh yes there is! That shoe was the only physical proof as to who you are! Besides, this is going to make me feel sooo much better!"

"Granted. But you have my confession. And anyway, you don't need that shoe!"

Brian released Craig...for now. "And why not?"

"Because I have the other one here in my pocket," he said, reaching into the apron and producing it.

Rage. Stupefaction. Radiant joy. Guess which faces showed which emotion. Go on...guess.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

It was a few minutes later. Michael had come to and was lying on his back with an icepack and a cushion under his head. He had a headache and a massive goose egg.

Justin sat in a chair and Brian knelt before him and put the shoe on him. It fit perfectly.

There whooshing sound and a rush of wind. Justin's rags blew away; the soot vanished and was replaced with his tux. Both shoes were rematerialized. He was Sunshine once more.

He still wore the apron. It looked a little strange but there was a reason.

"Before I came back up from the basement, I took a few minutes to retrieve some items I had hidden there. If you like, you may have them back."

He reached into the apron pocket. "Here. Here is the white gold ring you gave me when I was Starshine." He handed it to Brian. "It's too big for me anyway."

His relatives goggled.

"Here is the armband you gave me when I was Ash." He handed it to him. Brian took it numbly.

"And here is the scarf, you gave me last night when I was Sunshine." Justin hung it around the back of Brian's neck. "My, you're handsome in it. There, you see, I told you, if you found me again, you would find Starshine, Ash, and Sunshine, all together."

"Why would you hide these in the basement?" asked Brian.

"Because that's where I sleep and stay. I knew they'd be safe there."

"You make him sleep in the basement!?" Brian asked them incredulously.

Craig suddenly found a curtain fascinating.

Brian stood and drew off a plain gold chain from around his neck. He undid the clasp and slipped the ring onto it. He redid the clasp. He put the chain around Justin's neck. "You can wear this here until I have another made in your size," he said.

He fit the leather band around his left wrist. "You can wear this in bed when the time is right...and you top me," he said.

Justin gasped in excitement.

Brian hung the scarf around his neck. "This looks handsome on you too." He pulled on the ends, pulling Justin up and kissing him hard. "Wear it while you marry me."

"We'll have to wait a week. But yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

They kissed hard again in celebration and great joy. Craig just sat there. Michael still lay there on the floor.

"That's great, Justin! Now let's get out of here and get your brother some help!" Brian turned to look at Michael.

"Just tell me you love me," Justin said softly.

Brian froze. "What did you say?"

"Look Brian, I'll come with you, I'll even live with you. Or I can travel and wander the world if that doesn't work out. But I can't marry someone, bind myself forever, to a person who doesn't love me and can't tell me."

"Justin, you know I love you! Don't you?"

A tear ran down his Sunshine cheek. "Yes. I know. Today. But what about in a week? Or a month. Or in a few years? If you never tell me, I'll never really know."

"But they're just words. I can't...I just can't say it. Not yet. Please understand."

"All right Brian. You have a week anyway. I'll wait till then. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"I may throw up! So, is this part of a sadistic punishment cause if it is I demand to know the charges!"

"OH, SHUT UP!!" they both yelled.

"Uh, guys...would you please take me with you? I don't want to be here anymore either. Could you take me to Sir Ben? He'll take care of me," said Michael.

"Sure, Mikey, no prob. You ready to go, Sunshine?"

"Oh yes! Oh, I do have to get a few things I left in the basement. Then we can get going."

Justin moved toward the basement door. At the same time Brian turned away and faced Craig. "OK, old man, GET UP! I'm placing you under arrest for withholding vital inform..." His gaze fell into a mirror on the wall. In horror, he saw Ethan appear out of nowhere with a large chunk of firewood.

"JUSTIN, LOOK OUT!" he yelled and turned.

Justin turned just as Ethan bashed him in the head with the chunk of wood. Justin was knocked right out his loafers and down through the basement door. There was a strange backlash and Ethan was thrown back into the coffee table, which broke under his weight.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" screamed Brian.

Craig saw his chance and bolted up and punched Brian in the stomach. Brian collapsed and Craig kicked him in the stomach 4 times. "Ethan! Grab him!"

Together they dragged Brian over to the basement and threw him down before he could recover. "Since you looooove him so much, you can starve and die with him down there!" The door slammed and locked.

"Come on Ethan! Pack some things for you and your brother! We're leaving here forever and going to Ibiza!"

"Ibiza? What the hell's that?"

"Never mind! Will you shut up and get moving!"

"I don't want to go with you! I'm not leaving Ben!"

"I'm not leaving you here to turn against us! You're coming with us!"

"Justin! Brian, help me!"

"Shut up, or I'll kick you in the other side of your head!"

But Brian had stopped listening. He was staring down in horror into the basement.

Justin was lying face down at the bottom of the stairs. He was back in his rags and bare feet, having been knocked out of his loafers. He looked so small as he lay there unmoving, as still as death.

 

TBC

 Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. Any references to Queer as Folk are for non-profit purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 6

Found

 

Brian stared down in horror into the basement.

Justin was lying face down at the bottom of the stairs. He was back in his rags and bare feet, having been knocked out of his loafers. He looked so small as he lay there unmoving, as still as death.

Brian dashed down the stairs to Justin's side. He scooped him up unto his arms.

"GOD! No! God!" Each word was separate, a harsh choke. "God! Justin! Please be all right! Help me! HELP ME! Justin, please be all right! Don't leave me!"

He cradled and rocked the smaller man like a baby. Miraculously, there was no blood. No head wound. But he was so quiet. So very, very still.

Emotions that Brian had never felt before ripped though him He felt raw, exposed. He felt as if a part of him had been bashed, ripped open and was dying along with Justin. Half of him was gone, dead. And he knew then, if Justin did die, he would not want to live either.

"Justin! Justin! Please wake up! Please! Don't leave me! Please..." Brian continued to rock Justin and he whispered nothingness into his ear for several more minutes. He continued to search for injuries but could find nothing except a big goose egg rising on the back of his head.

Overhead, the Taylors continued their dash for freedom.

Brian didn't know what to do, so he just rocked and rocked. His shoulders shook but there was no sound. His despair was total.

And then Justin gasped and sucked in a huge breath. His eyes fluttered and opened. Focused. He smiled.

"Good morning," he said weakly but pleasantly.

Brian burst into tears of joy and hugged him very, very hard. Justin slowly wrapped his arms around him. He hugged him back and rubbed his back soothingly.

"What's the matter hon? Did somebody hurt you? Want me to kick ‘em in the scrote?" Justin asked sincerely.

Brian burst into fresh tears of joy and sadness all at once.

"No...nobody's hurt me! Oh God! Now I know! Now I understand! Oh, Justin, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

"Sorry for what? What do you understand?"

I understand what there is to love beyond fucking. I'm sorry for the pain I must have caused you when I rejected you at the festivals. I didn't know! Oh God! I didn't know!"

"That's all right, Brian. You see I knew. I knew that you would get it eventually."

Brian hugged him tight and rested his chin on Justin's shoulder. He held the back of his neck and pressed them cheek to sooty cheek.

"I love you...I love you." he choked out next to Justin's ear.

"I love you too, Brian."

Justin's three tokens glowed. His rough grayed out tunic softened and smoothed out into white silk. His ragged pants likewise grew out and became white and new and silken. His rope belt smoothed out and darkened and turned into a black leather belt. Soft and comfortable casual, black leather shoes appeared on his feet. A wire thin headband of white gold appeared on his head. The cinders vanished. The glow faded.

Brian kissed him deeply and pulled back.

"Hey! You clean up good! What happened!"

"I'm not quite sure. I could feel it happen when you told me you loved me. I think this is me. The real me. The magical disguises are gone. I don't need them anymore. I have you."

"Forever and ever." They kissed again.

"Uh, Brian, why do I feel like I've been kicked in the head by a mule?"

"Oh Justin, I thought I'd lost you! Ethan hit you in the head with a big piece of firewood. He knocked you right out of your loafers! I'm kinda surprised you're not hurt worse. I'm so glad you aren't though!" Brian was babbling a little as he caressed and hugged his lover again. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I felt power go out of me. Tell me, was I wearing the loafers when Ethan hit me?"

"Yes. He knocked you out of them. The bastard! He'll pay for that!"

"Time will tell. I remember a flash of power. That must have been the blow. What happened to Ethan?"

"Hmmm. He did get knocked backwards into the coffee table."

"That must be it. I was still Sunshine when he hit me. My sunshine power must have protected me and created a mini shock wave. Unfortunately, I was back to normal when I hit the floor. Owwww!

"We'll get you checked out by a doctor when we get out of here. If we get out of here."

Justin pulled back. "Oh, we'll get out of here, never fear. But first I have something to show you."

"What is it?"

"Proof. Real proof that Craig has been negligent with his condom company and been spreading FADES."

"Uh, Sunshine! Maybe we should think about getting out of here first! Your relatives are getting away."

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"Nooooo! Leave me alone! I want Ben!"

"Shut up!"

Some thumpings. Scufflngs. More movements. Then SLAM! And there was silence.

"Yes, they're gone. Gone at last! I shall never have to deal with them again!" Justin said in peace and contentment.

"But they're getting away!"

"Don't worry, Brian!" Justin looked and sounded like an angel in his white clothes. "They won't get far."

He went over to the wall and pulled out a few bricks. He reached in and pulled out a bowl of condoms.

"Here. Have a look at these."

Brian did and with astonishment saw that many had silken strings through them, showing pinholes.

The day of the White Party, I asked my stepfather for a suit. He told me if I could check a thousand of those in an hour he would. So I did. He betrayed me. He knocked me out, took all the condoms and left me a bedsheet with holes in it and beach slippers."

"I worked for him the second night as well," he told Brian, "I was to examine 2000 condoms in an hour. Again he knocked me out and when I came to, I found he had left me a jock strap and a hat."

Brian was going red and he swore he could see it too.

"However, I also had a second motive for asking to work for my suit on the second day," Justin said, "You see, I expected the betrayal. On the second day I held some back. These represent a portion of those 2000 condoms I examined for a leather suit, which he swindled me out of. All of which, I'm sure he sold. If you look at these condoms you'll see that there are many with holes poked in them. I figured about one in three."

"How did you do this?" Brian asked, marveling at the spider strings.

"I had some help...from a few spiders. It's hard to explain. Anyway, all that really matters is that this is the proof you need to convict Craig, and legally issue a total recall on my condoms.

"Your condoms?"

"Yes. That's the other thing I needed to get." He reached in again and pulled out the last item left in the hidey-hole. The Will. "This is my mother's will. I'm pretty sure it proves I inherit everything including this house and the condom company when I turn 18. However, I should have a lawyer look at it. Do you know of a good one?"

"Yes Sunshine, I'll get you a lawyer. Can we get outta here now!?"

""Yes. I think that would be a good idea. Ooops, one more thing." He quickly reached under his straw mat and retrieved the blue tablecloth, picked a golden card from out of the apron pocket and picked at the strings. He pulled off the apron and dropped it on the ground.

"Ahhh, that's better! I shall never wear an apron again."

"But Justin! How are to get out of here? There's no windows and the door is locked."

Justin held up the golden card. "Let's just say I have the ultimate key card. Come on! Let's get the hell out of here!"

Justin strode up the stairs and Brian followed, a little puzzled.

Justin slid the card between the door and the jamb.

BLAM!!! The door was ripped off its hinges and broken into several pieces.

"Wow!" Justin said, as the dust cleared.

"Uh, Justin? I don't know where you got that card but make sure you always pay the bill!"

Justin smiled and kissed his prince hard. "Let's get out of here!"

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

In the limo, Brian used the in-car phone to call the sheriff. He told the driver to take them to the Taylor Condom Factory. The driver nodded and they drove away from that hated house forever.

"This is Prince Brian. I want an immediate APB out on the following: Craig Taylor, Ethan Taylor and Michael Taylor. They are trying to flee to Loft. Charge them with assault, attempted murder, unlawful imprisonment, child abuse, and negligence!"

Justin put a gentle hand onto Brian's strong forearm. He looked up at him with wide, beseeching eyes.

"Hold on a minute!" Brian barked into the phone.

Justin whispered into his ear.

"OK, sheriff, I have special instructions concerning Michael Taylor! Here's what I want you to do..."

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

A few minutes later, at the Taylor Condom Co.

 

"Prince Brian! And Justin! You're looking well!' said the oily Mr. Gonzales. "Wow, Justin! You really ARE looking well!"

"Thank-you, Mr. Gonzales."

"What can I do for you?"

"We're here to expose the illegal activities that are spreading FADES across the Loft," Justin said.

Mr. Gonzales' mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. He was struck dumb with outrage.

Justin pushed past him and went onto the production floor.

Finally, Mr. Gonzales found his voice. "I can assure you, I run a very tight ship here. There are no illegal activities going on here!"

Justin turned to him and smiled a spooky, knowing smile. "Time will tell."

He strode purposely to the end of the conveyer belt where finished condoms rolled into a slot in the wall to...where?

Justin looked around till he found a certain door marked Employees Only. He yanked it open.

Inside, was snot nosed geeky looking 18-year-old guy. He was grabbing the finished condoms that came through the slot and stabbing random ones with a pin. Behind him were two tubes that led into the floor. The good condoms went into the left tube and the stabbed ones went into the right tube.

WHAM!!! Justin slammed the door open and stood there, framed in the doorway.

"Hello," he said, "What do you think you're doing?"

No one had ever disturbed him in his work before. The kid was frozen in place in stupefaction.

Justin stood aside and a larger figure stood in the doorway. A figure in a tailored suit, a ruby the size of a robin's egg...and a crown.

"I believe my boyfriend asked you a question. I suggest you answer it," the figure said.

"Oh my God! Y-Y-Y-You're the Prince!"

"Why, y-y-y-y-y-yes I am! So I suggest you answer the question! Or I'll personally shove you down on of those tubes! And as skinny as you are, I still don't think you'll fit...all the way!" Brian smiled evilly.

"Brian!" Justin chided gently, "You're scaring the poor boy!" He smiled. "Do it again!"

Brian grabbed Justin and kissed him witless. "I love you!" he said.

He turned back to the stupefied-with-fear boy and smiled wider. It was even more evil, feral, insane. His hands were hooked into claws and stretched out.

The kid cracked like an empty coffeepot on a hot burner.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Justin was right. The Taylors did not get far. They were pulled over within an hour and arrested. Their car was impounded. They were taken to the castle. Craig and Ethan were thrown into a deep dark dungeon, far from the light of day. They were fed bread and water and a disgusting fishy chum paste. They were constantly threatened with torture and given a VERY detailed tour of the torture room. However, they were never actually tortured. Unknowingly to them, the guards were given strict orders to not actually hurt them.

Michael, however, received lighter treatment. He was separated from his father and brother and taken to the prison hospital. When it was determined he did not have a concussion, he was taken to a higher-level dungeon cell that had a window and guards that treated him in a minimum security type way. At first he had railed at the guards and screamed for his family and demanded to know why he had been separated. Until dinnertime. He was fed roast beef and vegetables and mashed potatoes. Besides, the guards would not answer any of his questions anyway.

Michael was given time out in the prison yard by himself every day. The prison yard was an entire courtyard with only two ways in and out. One was the door from which Michael entered, the way into the prison. At the other end of the courtyard was another door but a very high chain link fence blocked it off. There was no escape.

Two days into his imprisonment, Michael was led out into the yard as usual. At the far end, by the fence, he saw a small figure in white. Moving closer, Michael saw that it was Justin. He ran over "Justin! Justin! Help me! Help me!"

Justin looked inexpressively sad. He shook his head once. He wore a white silk tunic with a black leather armband on his left bicep. He wore white silk pants and soft, black leather shoes and wire thin headband of white gold. Michael had never seen him look so ethereal.

"You look good, Justin."

Justin nodded in thanks.

"Will you not talk to me?"

A shake.

"Oh. I'm very frightened. I suppose we're all to be punished or executed or something for mistreating you?"

Justin just stood there, impassive.

"Am I going to die, Justin?"

Nothing.

"Justin!! Am I going to die!!?"

Nothing.

Tears began to squeeze out of Michael's eyes. "Oh, Justin, no! I don't...I don't wanna die!" He sobbed. "Can I see Sir Ben before...you know. Is he doing all right? Can you tell him I miss him? Please? Please Justin?" A few more tears leaked out.

Justin nodded. A tear of his own leaked out. He waved and moved backward toward the door.

"No! Don't go! I'm - I'm all alone here! I don't know why! Justin! Justin wait! Just stay with me a bit!"

Justin waved and continued moving toward the door.

"I can see you're going then! Good-bye Justin! And....and I'm sorry...for all that stuff I did."

Justin waved. He nodded and went inside.

A high level security guard met him. "Did you find out what you needed to know?"

"Yes. Continue to treat him kindly and feed him well. Time out in the yard. Let Sir Ben see him but impress upon him not to tell him anything. Keep him separate from the other prisoners without making it seem like it's a punishment. This is not solitary confinement, do you understand?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Keep him safe. Keep him solitary. Keep him sexually abstinent. The first two are to make the third possible. But the third is the most important, the most vital. You must not fail."

"Sir, I will not fail you." The guard saluted.

"Good." Justin returned the salute carelessly. The guard left. Justin turned to watch Michael out the window.

When Justin left, Michael figured he might as well get some exercise. He began to run around the yard. But he couldn't stop his mind from working. All the times, he had yelled at or hit or treated Justin badly began to slideshow through his head. And now he was going to die for it. He would never get to live and grow old with Ben. And he knew he deserved it.

The heaviness of his heart weighed him down and he began to run erratically through the yard. Somewhere near the center, he collapsed to his knees sand covered his face with his hands. His shoulders heaved and shook as he cried and cried.

Justin watched. And wept along with him.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

The next day, Sir Ben came to visit. He wasn't able to tell, or didn't know anything about what was going to happen to him. So Ben just talked about how things were going at home and how wonderful their life would be when Michael was allowed out. They pretended Michael was getting out tomorrow and that Ben wasn't dying and that they were going to get married and everything was all right.

They sat at opposite sides of a wooden table. A guard blocked the door but he was impassive, virtually deaf, dumb, and blind except for escape attempts. They kissed. They held hands. Because of the FADES, it was like grabbing onto a goop of warm pudding but Michael didn't care.

"I want you. I want you so bad," Michael said.

"I know. But you're not allowed conjugal visits right now."

"I love you, Ben."

"I love you, too."

"Kiss me again."

They kissed until the visit was over.

 

Ben came every day after that. Michael came to savor these visits for the rest of the time he was alone. He ate alone. He was allowed in the yard alone. The rec room was deserted when he was allowed in. He didn't understand it. He was lonely. But he came to accept it because he figured it was a strange type of torture before his eventual sentence...and death.

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 7

Justice and Redemption

 

A week later...

 

The throne room was packed with curious courtiers. The King and Queen sat on their thrones. Brian stood behind and a little to one side of his father. All three were in full regalia. The King and Queen wore tall, jeweled crowns and deep purple robes. Queen Joan wore a red dress and King Jack wore a black suit. They both held jeweled scepters.

Brian wore a black suit with a white shirt and a maroon tie with a red furred cloak down his back. He wore a white gold ring on his left hand and a golden spiked crown.

The throne room door was thrown open and Craig and Ethan Taylor were led in, in leg irons and handcuffed in front. They were filthy and ragged and scared. They had prison pallor. Michael was led in next. He was not in chains and looked in significantly better shape than his relatives. He was clean and in a gray prison uniform. He was led in under heavy guard between two beefy guards. They hustled him over to a front row chair, a little to the right of the thrones and told him to be quiet. Michael was submissive and complied. He looked very sad and appropriately frightened. The guards towered on either side of him.

Three guards shoved Craig and Ethan forward until they were in front of the royal family. They were pushed onto their knees and then allowed to rise.

"Craig Taylor: Is it true you assaulted His Royal Highness, the Prince of the Loft, our son?" asked King Jack.

"Well, I-I-I-"

"And is it true, you locked him unlawfully in a basement with the intent of starving him to death?" asked the King.

"Well, I-I-I-"

"Choose your next words wisely," said the Queen, "for they may be your last."

"I had a lot of time to think it over," said Craig, "I was under a great deal of stress and felt trapped. I was trying to escape. I'm...very sorry."

"You would have been a lot sorrier had Brian died. Regicide is punishable by death," said Queen Joan.

"Yes Majesty," said Craig, "As you say."

"And why were you feeling trapped and needing to escape?" asked King Jack, "Did it have anything to do with these?" He reached behind him and produced the bowl of condoms. "These are your brand, are they not?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Craig said sulkily.

"Including the ones, with the strings through them.... showing the holes?" asked the King.

"Yes, your Majesty. There are defects in a certain amount, all the time."

"Yes, there are, said Brian, "Especially when you pay an employee to spike them with a pin!"

Everyone gasped.

Craig opened and closed his mouth in outrage and fear.

"Before you say anything, you should know we have said person on hand ready to testify," said the King.

"Why would you do such a thing?" asked Queen Joan, "You are aware that you have been spreading FADES? Perhaps you even started it?"

"Whoa! I did not! I don't know what started FADES! OK, I plead guilty to what has been proven but I'm not taking the rap for that! I don't know how it started!"

"Again, why?" asked the King.

Craig shrugged. "Profits. I didn't mean to spread it so extensively, just...keep it around. As long as people had it, they needed condoms. It just kinda started getting...out of control."

"OUT OF CONTROL!!!" yelled King Jack, "People have died! People ARE dying! Your own wife died of it! Have you no shame, no remorse?"

"What's the point of that? There's nothing I can do about it at this point. Besides, my..."

"SILENCE!!!!!" yelled the King.

"Ethan Taylor, is it true you attempted murder on my fiancé by hitting him with a blunt object? May I remind you, I was there," said Prince Brian.

"Yes, you know it is," said Ethan dully.

"Craig Taylor, you are forthwith stripped of your position of CEO of Taylor Condoms and the company will be given to its rightful owner. Furthermore, you will be executed and your horrible son will be sent to a penal colony and do hard labor for the rest of his life," sentenced King Jack.

"Ohhh, a penal colony! That doesn't sound so bad," said Ethan.

"That means prison, you idiot!" snarled Craig, whacking Ethan upside the head. "Majesty, please! You can see! He's just an idiot! Send me to the prison instead! Let him go!!"

"Hey! I'm not an idiot!" cried Ethan.

"You! Michael Taylor! Are they always this bad?" asked King Jack.

Oh God! The King was talking to him! It was his turn at last! His doom had come! "Uh, yes sir. Worse, mostly," said Michael meekly.

"Hey! What about him! He's obviously here in trouble here too! He - he helped at the factory!" yelled Craig.

"Yeah!! He's...he's an accessory!" cried Ethan.

"I didn't know anything about that stuff about damaging condoms!" Michael cried, needing to defend himself.

"Shaddap!" said a guard intelligently, slapping Michael upside the head. Michael flushed at the unfairness of it all.

"Michael will be facing his own charges!" Brian informed them, "Take them away!"

"Unless," piped up the Queen, "By some miracle, there is someone here who will speak for you!"

Both Craig and Ethan stood in their rags and prison pallor and scanned the room looking for a benefactor, a halfway friendly face. They saw many they knew but there was no help. There was only silence.

"There seems to be a distinct lack of tongue," said Craig, "I'm not sure..."

"I will speak for him!" said a familiar voice behind him. Craig froze. "He is after all, my stepfather."

Justin emerged from the back of the room and was now making his way up the central carpet. Courtiers bowed as he passed them by.

Justin was wearing a formal black suit with a white shirt and a charcoal blue tie. On his left ring finger he wore a white gold band that fit and on another finger he wore a gold signet ring. Around his neck he wore a long gold chain with a large onyx stone on the end in a gold setting. On his head he wore a spiked crown. Rubies and sapphires were encrusted in a ring all the way around in an alternating pattern. Each sapphire was the color of his eyes. On the tip of each spike was fixed a pearl.

As Craig turned and saw the crown he bowed, and pushed Ethan down too. It was over. They were doomed.

"Ethan, Craig," said Brian, "I don't think you've met my life partner and husband."

Justin walked up to Craig and Ethan who were now quaking in their boots. They fell to their knees and looked at the carpet. All they could do was beg for mercy.

"Craig, Ethan! Look at me!" Justin commanded.

They looked up.

"I want you to know that when you are gone from my sight, I will never think of you again. You, however, will think of me every day for the rest of your lives."

He strode past them and looked up at his beautiful husband and his family. And HIS family now too, he reminded himself.

"All I ask," he said, "Is to that you show them the same courtesy that they showed me." He turned to face them again. "For eight long years. I don't require blood, just the sweat and tears that they required of me."

"So be it! Take them away!" said King Jack.

"Wait! Please! You said my company was going to be given away! What will happen to it?" asked Craig.

"It was my 18th birthday yesterday," Justin said, "That's how I was able to get married."

"Congratulations," Craig said sarcastically, "What's that got to me?

Justin reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it. It was his mother's Will.

It means that when I did turn 18, I became the rightful owner of the factory, the house, and any assets you might have acquired using the profits thereof. This is your signature on the witness line, is it not?

"Yes. But I haven't seen that thing in ages. I never thought I'd see it again. Amazing. Where'd you find it, Justin?" Craig softened his tone and moved closer. He made a whip fast grab.

But Justin was too fast for him. He yanked it out of reach.

"Ah - ah - ah..." he said, "Look with your eyes, not with your hands!"

Craig's face twisted in hate. "Damn you!" he snarled.

"Yes," said Justin sadly, "and I fear in the days to come that opinion will never change." He told the guards, "I'm done with them."

He went over and joined Brian, who drew him into his arms and kissed him gently, then deeper, hotter, lustfully. Everyone clapped.

Four guards, beefy as bulls, grabbed Ethan and Craig. They lifted them bodily and carried them out of the throne room, out of Justin's sight, and out of his life forever. He knew what was going to happen to them but he never saw them again.

Michael watched them go and shivered in fear. He watched Brian and Justin kiss and his insides twisted in sadness, envy and regret. He had only met him a week or so ago, but he wanted that with Ben so much! But now his time had come. He would never see Ben again after today.

"Why so glum, chum?" asked a familiar voice beside him.

"Ben!" Michael's face lit up in happiness.

"I'm here for you, babe. Whatever happens, we'll go through it together." Ben's smile lit up Michael's insides. He features sagged and rippled and faded and then solidified back into the hunky shape that Michael knew was his real form.

"Thanks babe," Michael returned, and squeezed through his soft hand.

"And now," King Jack said, "Queen Joan and I have an announcement. In accordance with an agreement we made with our son, we are letting him ascend to the throne, effective immediately! There will be a more formal coronation ceremony later this week but for now, Queen Joan and I are taking early retirement and going off to...celebrate right now!"

"Ohhh...ewwww!! Pops!" cried Brian, grossed out.

"Ohh, get over it! Brian...Justin? I take it you can handle it from here?"

"Yes, we'll be fine!" Brian said.

"All right then! Good bye everyone!" Jack and Joan got up and ran out of the room, kissing all the way.

The room murmured in a wide range of emotions. There was shock, sadness, joy and excitement throughout the room. The royal gossips ran out of the room to spread the news throughout the kingdom. They had a new King! Two, in fact.

Holding hands, Brian and Justin walked slowly over to the thrones and sat down. Everyone cheered.

Michael trembled even more. Now, he had to face Justin, not just as his Prince, but as his King!

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Meanwhile, Craig and Ethan were escorted/carried downstairs, deep into the basement workings of the castle. They were given grey, itchy uniforms. They were put to work, doing laundry, weeding the royal gardens, peeling apples, onions and other food. They carried in sacks of sugar and flour and stocked storerooms. They did inventory. They fetched and carried water. Every day was a new chore, a new drudgery. They only saw the sun when they worked the gardens or when they had short breaks in the small servants courtyard. They were only given breaks for good behaviour so they quickly learned to obey. They had no days off. I'm happy to say that this is where they leave our story forever. Of course, they lived unhappily ever after.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

"Michael Taylor! Approach us!" intoned Brian.

Michael did so, in fear and trembling. This was it. He sat, kneeling, simply because he knew he would not be able to stand without his knees knocking and looking ridiculous.

"Michael, do you remember all the beatings and mental abuse you subjected me to over the last eight years?" asked Justin.

"Yes Justin - uh...Your Highness, I mean," answered Michael. There was a pause. "Oh, Justin, please! Whatever you're going to do to me, just make it quick!"

"Quick? Make what quick?" Justin asked him.

"Well, you're going to kill me now...for all that stuff I did. Right?"

"Michael, your father did all those things and more to me. He committed even greater crimes against my husband and the whole of the Loft and I did not execute him but saved him from death. You are not going to die. Well, not today. And not by my hand."

Michael finally found the courage to look up. "Really? But I don't understand. You put me in prison. When I saw you in the yard...when I saw you in the yard, I asked you if I was going to die...and you didn't shake no."

"I didn't nod yes, either."

"That's true. Why wouldn't you speak to me? Couldn't you see how much I needed a visit, just then?"

"I wanted to see how you felt about me without my interference. I've seen you changing since the day of the Prom, but I wanted to see if compassion and remorse were still with you, or if the short time back with Craig and Ethan had made you revert back into hate and evil. I'm glad to say, I liked what I saw."

"Then why'd you leave me in prison?" Michael asked sulkily.

"Because I wanted to impress upon you that you are still in trouble. But didn't you notice that it was a minimum-security facility? And that you were separated from the other prisoners?"

"Yes, I noticed that. I was very lonely. I thought it was some sort of revenge, some sort of torture."

"No Michael, it wasn't revenge or torture. I just wanted to keep you safe. And celibate."

"But why? Are you gonna make me join the priesthood?" Michael shuddered.

"Justin chuckled. "Hardly, Michael. No, I needed you celibate because you don't have FADES. And I needed to keep it that way."

"I don't understand."

"I know, Michael. But you will soon."

"Oh God, I'm scared!"

"Michael do you remember the day of the Prom when you protected me from Craig? And then later you brought me food when you didn't have to?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember I told you I wouldn't forget that kindness?"

"Yes, I remember Justin - uh, Your Highness. "Is that why you put me in the higher prison?"

"Yes. But that's only part of it. Because of that kindness and the others later, jumping on Craig and getting knocked out, asking for our help to take you to Ben, and for your changed attitude in prison, I have decided to give you a reduced and light sentence and participate in a most unusual...experiment."

"Experiment! Oh, God! What are you going to do to me?"

"Don't worry, Michael, it's nothing like that. You see, I know of a possible cure for FADES. But it is so unscientific and...improbable that many people including the scientific community (such as we have) would never believe it. So I want to have you try the process out and prove that it works. At the same time you'll be serving your sentence."

"And what is my sentence?"

"Four months in prison. But since you also need to be in isolation, you will be taken to a cabin, deep into the forest. You will be locked into the property."

"I see. Like a lonely rat in a cage."

"Yes, kind of like that," Justin said sadly. He brightened. "But a cage with a nice house...king-size bed...all the food you can eat...a garden out back. A conjugal visit every week. And on the full moon."

Michael brightened. "Really! You'll let me see Ben!?"

"Yes Michael. Every Wednesday. But be warned. At midnight, a guard will come to collect him, so make the most of your time."

"Why midnight?"

"Because then it'll be Thursday."

"I don't understand."

"Don't worry, Michael. It doesn't matter. Are you ready?"

"Yes. Yes, Justin, I'm ready. And thank you. This is a lot better than what I thought was going to happen. And if I have Ben with me, I can get through anything."

Justin gestured to a guard and two guards escorted Michael out.

As he was pulled out, Michael yelled, "Ben! I love you!"

"I know." Ben returned.

And then he was gone.

Justin leaned back in the throne and sagged. His face was pale and he looked drained.

Brian took charge. "Court is adjourned! We are leaving, so you may as well too!"

Everyone filed out of the throne room.

Brian and Justin went out a side door near the thrones. They went down a small hallway and found a bedroom they could sneak into. By this time Brian was practically carrying Justin along.

Finally, inside, they both took off their crowns and just held onto each other like they needed to hold each other up.

"Dealing with Craig and Ethan wasn't so bad. But Michael! Oh God, Brian, that was so hard! He sobbed. "Is he gonna be all right!?"

"He'll be fine, Sunshine. He'll be fine!"

They fell onto the bed and kissed tenderly for a bit. They looked deep into each other's eyes. And then more tears were flowing, clothes went flying and they were fucking, pushing the world away, fucking to forget, and when they came the pleasure was so intense it was almost pain.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

A/N: OK, so how are we all enjoying the rather...extended version of a beloved fairy tale? By the positive feedback so far, I hope so. ‘More is welcome. Please leave a good or bad review!

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 8

Trouble Settling In

 

Michael was hustled into a prison carriage in the grip of two beefy guards. He was seated in the middle of them and blindfolded. They took off.

The carriage twisted and turned. They drove for hours and hours. Michael grew more and more frightened. Where were they taking him? How could Ben possibly find him? The guards wouldn't answer any of his questions. They wouldn't let him talk. He lost count of the turns and corners they took. He wondered about his family. He hadn't seen them since the trial and hadn't talked to them since they were arrested. In a weird way he missed them. He knew he'd never see them again. He wondered if they were dead.

Eventually the motion of the carriage and the darkness of the blindfold lulled him to sleep.

Who knows how much later, he jolted awake. They had stopped.

"Wh - where are we?" he quavered.

"Shut up!" the guard snarled.

He was hauled out of the carriage and hustled along a bit. Then, without warning, he was shoved forward, hard. He stumbled forward blindly, tripped, fell, rolled. OOOOFFF!

A short distance behind him, he could hear iron squeak, clang. There was a scraping noise.

"What's happening!" he cried out, frightened.

"You can take off your blindfold now!" said a rough voice," Follow the white flint stones and you'll soon find the house. It is Sunday night. Sir Ben will come to your door in four days at exactly 6 PM. Make the most of your time because two guards will come for him at exactly midnight!"

Footsteps scraped and faded away.

Michael ripped off the blindfold at last and took a deep breath. His nostrils filled with the scent of pine and earth. He looked around and gasped at what he saw.

It was night. He was in the middle of a deep, dark forest. A large, waning, gibbous moon hung overhead, icing everything in silver. Huge pine trees towered overhead. He was on a wide footpath. On either side the thickness of the forest was black and frightening.

In front of him was a 20-foot high iron barred gate. Each bar was as about 7" thick. The top of every bar sported a wickedly sharp spike. On either side of the gate was a barred fence, also spiked. To the left and the right, the fence disappeared into the trees. The rat's cage.

Michael turned in the opposite direction and as the guard had said, there were a trail of flint stones on the ground, glowing white in the moonlight. They stretched away into the dark.

He was frightened. He was lonely. He was cold. Everything was so still, so silent, so black. Only the white stones were his guides as he slowly walked along the dirt path. He walked for about two or three minutes until he was totally disoriented. Finally however, the stones bent toward the right and he entered a large clearing. And in the center of the clearing was the house.

The moonlight lit everything up like day. Michael was charmed. It was like a fairy tale. The house was a stone cottage. The roof was thatch. The left side of the cottage rose higher than the right in an extra story giving it a sort of lopsided appearance. The second story had a small chimney and there was a larger chimney near the front of the house on the right. There were a few windows placed in logical places. There was a wraparound porch. There was a porch swing on the left side of the door and a rocking chair on the right side. The front door looked thick and sturdy and was made of oak.

A wolf howled. Close. AAHHHHHH---WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Michael jumped. Maybe this was a good time to test out that door. Quickly he grabbed two of the white flint stones and tested them. Good. Sparks.

He ran to the cottage. Onto the porch. Opened the heavy oak door. In swung inward. He ran through it. He slammed it shut. It slammed shut with a solid, secure sound. He felt around on the door and found the bolt. He shot it home. His heavy breathing slowed. He was safe.

It was pretty dark in the house but the moonlight shining through the front window showed an oil lantern on a living room table. Michael turned it up and the cottage was filled with a cozy glow.

It was all one room. The door opened directly into the living room. There was a fireplace set into the wall of the front of the cottage. Next to the fireplace was the big living room window that is to the right as you entered. There was a smaller window to the left of the door as well. There was a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. There was a couch and an easy chair and a coffee table. Beyond the living room there was a dining table. There was a back door. To the left was a staircase. Michael scanned the house carefully. There was something missing.

Michael decided to check out the back door later. He took the lamp up the stairs. At the top there was a door on the left and a door on the right. The door on the right led to a tub and a sink. Through the door on the left, Michael looked in and saw a bedroom. There was a king size bed, as Justin had promised. There was a wardrobe and a bedside table. There was a bookshelf. One shelf held a line of books and another a line of comic books. There was a window facing the front of the house. To the right of the door was a smaller fireplace, which explained the left hand chimney outside.

Suddenly, the events of the day caught up with Michael. The adrenaline of the flight into the house wore off. He did not want to go back down to that large, cold, empty room downstairs. He went into the bedroom and shut the door, feeling that extra sort of nesting security that comes from shutting yourself behind a second door and especially into a small, cozy room.

He put the lamp on the table and shed his clothes. He crawled into bed and under the sheets. He turned out the light. Suddenly he was bone weary. He was soul weary. The seriousness of his situation suddenly impressed itself upon his heart with the weight of a cinder block. He was the prisoner and at the mercy of one whom he had mistreated. He was unloved by all but one. His loved one was far away. He was alone in a dark forest. There were wolves. Hopefully, not in the confines of his cage. Justin wouldn't do that? Would he?

Loneliness squeezed his heart. He wanted Ben so much it hurt. He began to cry. And so doing, he cried himself to sleep.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

The next morning:

 

Michael woke up needing to use the facilities. He got up and dressed in his pants and went downstairs. He hunted around for a door he might have missed and was about to go into the back yard when he saw a door leading to a cupboard under the stairs. He checked it and found a mop, bucket, broom and, (OH THANK GOD) a toilet.

As he did his business, he wondered why there was a picture of a teenage boy on a flying broom chasing a small golden ball on the wall under there. How strange.

A few minutes later he emerged and washed his hands in the sink. He finished washing and took another look at his new home in the morning light. The light streamed in through the windows making it a very different place than the dark cold room of the night before. He went over to the front door and unbarred it and discovered it was a Dutch door. He opened the top half and let in even more light and air. He looked out over the lawn and graveled clearing and saw the path he came in on curving away into the forest.

He didn't want to think about that. He turned and padded over to the back door. It too, was a Dutch door. He opened the top half of that one as well. There was a rocking chair near this door as well and steps leading down from the wraparound porch onto a large green lawn. Michael went out and stepped down. The dewy grass felt wonderful on his bare feet. He walked over to the right hand corner of the property where a large garden had been planted. There were lettuces, beans, carrots, radishes, corn, and tomatoes and a few other vegetables; Michael would have a closer look at later. There was a composter.

Seeing all that food, made Michael hungry. He padded back inside; shutting the bottom half of the back door but leaving the top half to that one open as well. He looked around and then it hit him what was missing.

There was no kitchen. There was a sink with a pump, but nothing else. No icebox, no stove, no drawers, nothing that made up a kitchen. There was no food.

Michael felt a stab of fear. Oh, God, this was it. Justin had brought him here to die slowly. He had told him he would be fed but it had been a trick. He would starve and die like the dog he was.

In despair, Michael turned and sat down at the dining table and started in surprise. Up to that point he had just thought it was an empty table. But there were two items in front of him. An envelope was lying on top of a folded up blue and white tablecloth.

 

Dear Michael,

Since you are reading this, it means you are hungry and have noticed there is no kitchen.

That is because there is no need. Besides, as I recall, you cannot cook, anyway.

The tablecloth before you will provide you with whatever you wish. Just clap your hands twice and say:

‘I'm hungry, give me something to eat'

When you are done, clap your hands twice and say: ‘I am done, lay all away'

Oh, and Michael...I haven't experienced this myself but I was told to make sure to tell the cloth please and thank you once in a while. It could get...temperamental.

Your brother,

Justin

 

Michael put the letter back in the envelope. He did not understand at all. But he was so hungry now, and it seemed like he had no choice. He clapped his hands and said the words. The tablecloth unfolded.

Michael's eyes grew wide and round as coins in wonder and delight.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Four days later...

 

Michael had developed a very simple routine.

Wake up, go downstairs, open the tops of both doors, get some morning air. Have breakfast. Back upstairs to wash and dress. He'd take a book and take it outside where he d read a bit on the front or back porch. He'd start to read and think about Ben. It'd be lunch time and he'd realize he hadn't gotten more than a few paragraphs in.

He'd have lunch. After lunch, he'd go work in the garden, although after a few days there was nothing to do but water. Maybe he'd go for a walk in the woods, as far as he could, anyway without hitting fence. Go home. Read a bit more or just pace.

By this time it would be getting on toward sunset. So he'd bring in some wood from the pile at the side of the house. He'd go out and try to read some more. Watch the sunset and think of Ben. He wondered if Ben was watching the sunsets thinking of him. He doubted it. Well, maybe. Hoped so. Nahhhh. He had better things to do.

It got dark. Got cold. Mikey would take in his unread book and shut and bolt both doors against the night. He would use the flint stones he had picked up that first night to make a fire. He'd have dinner. Often he'd take whatever the tablecloth would give him and eat it by fire, on the coffee table. Take the plate back Clean up and thank the cloth. Then he'd try to read again but a lot of the time, he gaze would be drawn to the bearskin and a few times in those four days, he'd sink down onto it and revel in it's softness and pretend he was there with Ben in it, rolling around, making out, fucking in front of the fire. When he could no longer stand the silence anymore, he'd put out the fire and go up to bed and cry himself to sleep.

In short, he was quickly going mad.

Finally, it was Wednesday. He was unable to do anything but eat and pace and think about sex and Ben. He walked around the house till he collapsed in the rocking chair but once he was sitting, he couldn't stand being in one spot, and so he'd pace again. Finally, he went upstairs and took a bath. He got squeaky clean. Dressed in something nice but easy to rip off (there had been extra clothes in the wardrobe) and went to get some wood. (For the fire... he'd been carrying wood around all day)

About ten minutes later, a little while after he had started a fire, there was a knock at the door.

And there he was. So large and wide, he filled the doorway and twice as gorgeous.

"Come in out of the night," he said. Ben did. "Where are the guards?"

"I think they're waiting by the gate."

"Ahhhh." There was nothing else to say to that. Michael shut the door.

"I brought us some wine," Ben said.

"Great, great," said Michael, taking it, putting it on the coffee table, "We'll toast later. There's something else I'd like to drink first."

"What's that?" Ben asked.

"YOU!!" Michael pounced, kissing him fiercely. The two of them were slammed up against the door. Ben was a little frightened. He was the bigger man but Michael had the manic energy of a prisoner and Ben found that he could not fight him off. And after a few seconds, he didn't want to. He kissed back fueling the fire. Michael was in heaven. They kissed and touched and groped for several minutes. At last, Ben managed to move toward the couch and Michael let him. He joined him. His breathing was heaving, ragged, feral.

"I can see you're very pent up," Ben said, "But if you need to take things slower...maybe talk a bit...I'm here for...Michael? What's wrong with your eyes? They're all wide and dilated."

"Because I can't look at you hard enough," answered Michael.

Ben was dressed all mountain man style. He wore a red stocking cap, a red/black/white but mostly red plaid button up shirt and jeans. He wore hiking boots to complete the picture. With his muscles, chiseled jaw, and wide, flat nose, he was masculine and perfect.

"Michael? What's wrong with your nose? Your nostrils are flaring."

"I can smell your soap and your scent. It's masculine and musky. It's driving me crazy," said Michael. "Do you like that shirt?"

"Yes, I do. Do you?"

"Very much. I suggest you remove it, for in 5 seconds I'm going to rip it off you." His breathing grew more ragged in anticipation.

Ben looked into his eyes and saw he was serious. He took off the shirt.

Michael's eyes grew more dilated if that were possible. He ripped of his own t shirt and pressed up flesh on hard flesh and rubbed slowly, carefully. He mustn't over do it. He mustn't scare him. He smelled him again and the masculine scent drove him wild. He licked and tasted and nipped a bit. "Ohhhh, yes! You smell...absolutely magnificent! So delicious!"

"Michael? Are you feeling OK? Your breathing is a little irregular."

"So's my heartbeat. You're making it speed up. I've thought about this night since I got here. I think about you, holding you, all the time."

"Really? That's so sweet. I think about you all the time too. Especially at the end of the day. I look at the sun set and think of you."

"Say Ben? Do you like those pants?"

Ben got the message. He was stripped and naked in a matter of seconds. He reached for the red stocking cap.

"Michael's breathing grew more ragged, more feral.

"No, no..." he growled, "Leave it on. I like it."

He looked. He growled. Ben looked back like a deer caught in the headlights.

He pounced.

He pressed up against Ben with a ferocity that astonished even him. He kissed Ben deep, deeper, deepest, He couldn't get enough.

Ben felt consumed. He pressed back and fought. They fell onto the floor, writhing and rolling on the bearskin rug. Ben was used to being the top but Michael was just too strong for him. He ended up on his back, his wrists pinned against the floor in what felt like iron restraints. Michael kissed him deeply again, sucking, biting. Again, Ben felt consumed. Michael moved down kissed his neck, his shoulder. He nipped it and then bit, drawing a bit of blood.

"OW!" he yelled, "Michael, what the Hell!?"

"Shhhhhh! I know it hurts," said a growling voice that Ben didn't recognize. He struggled. Couldn't move. A pair of green eyes, hard as flint came into view. "Just a little reminder that you're mine. Only mine. I'm yours. Only yours. For my life." The eyes bored into his. He'd never forget this moment. It was terrifying and erotic all at the same time. "Do you believe this Ben?"
"Yes, I believe this," he told the eyes, half hypnotized. He realized he did.

Growling and snuffling happily, Michael licked and laved his way down to Ben's chest where he bit and pulled until Ben was a submissive, sobbing hunk of desire.

"Protection!" he demanded, and Ben grabbed some from his discarded pants.

Michael tossed the condom up in the air, caught it in his mouth coming down and ripped it open. In one quick motion, he sheathed Ben's cock.

"YAAAAAAAA---HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" Michael howled in joy.

Somewhere, deep in the forest, something heard and answered, "AAAAAAHHHHHHH---WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

Then Ben watched in astonishment as Michael's mouth opened wide, wider, wider.

And with one swift downward motion, Michael ate him (well his cock, anyway) ALLLLLLLL up!

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMB

Several rounds of amazing, animalistic (but safe) sex later...

 

Michael snuggled against Ben. They had moved up to the bedroom after the first round. Well, if you consider Ben throwing him over his wide shoulder and carrying him up, moving up. He felt sated and heavy and safe at last.

"You know what really set me off?" he asked, "It was when you told me you think about me at sunset. I've been doing that too."

"I' thought you've been thinking about me all the time," Ben said teasingly.

"Hmmm. That too. But notably at sunset, always. I love you, Ben."

"I love you too."

"Keep sunset open for me?"

"I will. You?"

"Yes, I will."

They lay there for a few more minutes.

"Well," Ben said sadly, "I think it's time to think about getting ready to go. It's nearly midnight."

"No! Stay with me! Stay the night! I cannot bear it!"

"Michael! You know I cannot. You know that's against King Justin's plan for us. They won't let us!"

"This is intolerable! I cannot bear it! You cannot imagine the boredom, the silence, the sheer ache of wanting you. You saw how I was after 4 days! Imagine what it will be like after seven. Ohh, this punishment is inhuman! Stay with me! I'll - I'll fight them! I'll take responsibility!"

"Michael! You can't fight them! You're talking crazy!"

"I don't care," Michael said sulkily. "I can't be given the whole world...and then be expected to give it up the next minute! I've got to try. I've got to..." He began to cry.

"Shhhhhhhh...Everything will be all right. I'll stay with you if I'm able. Shhhh. I'm here. I'm here..." Ben rocked Michael like a baby. Michael blubbered even more.

Midnight came and went. Very soon, they came. BAM!! BAM!! BAM!!

"OPEN UP!"

BAM!! BAM!! BAM!! "OPEN UP OR WE'LL BREAK OPEN THE DOOR AND YOU'LL HAVE NOTHING FOR THE REST OF YOUR TIME HERE!!"

Damn it.

"FINE! I'M COMING!" yelled Michael back, feeling taller than he was. He strode down the steps and threw open the door, still gloriously and defiantly nude.

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs. He's staying with me!" He wished it came out as brave as he meant it to.

"That's what you think! For God's sake! Hang onto whatever dignity you have left and put something on!" A soldier marched past them and up the stairs.

"This is my house! If you don't like it, get out! And I want him to stay! I'll - I'll fight you!"

The soldier just laughed. Within a few minutes, Ben was dragged downstairs, also nude.

"Get dressed and come with us immediately! You are breaking the rules of this visit!"

Michael was still defiant but he didn't see the point in staying nude in front of guys who didn't care. He put on some underwear and pants. Ben also put on his jeans but he stood in front of Michael defiantly. "He wants me to stay. I'm staying."

"Come with us now, or you'll risk a stay in the dungeon!" They grabbed his arms and started to drag him out.

But Ben had reached a stage where he could control his FADES. He concentrated and he went transparent and slipped out of their grasp.

He ran back to Michael. "NO! I‘m staying! And if you try to force me I'll just Fade again and run back! I'm staying! He needs me!"

"And King Justin needs you back after midnight! You might be able to pull that trick! But your boyfriend's solid! A soldier grabbed Michael around the neck and held his sword to his throat. "I'm under orders not to kill your little boyfriend here... but I can always pull out an eye! Or cut off an ear! He pointed at each thing with the point of the sword. Or finger...by finger...by finger..." He grabbed Michael's wrist painfully tight and pressed so that his fingers spread out. He raised his sword...

"ALL RIGHT!! Stop it!! Stop it!! I'll come with you! Just don't hurt him!" Ben yelled. He broke down sobbing quietly.

"Then put on the rest of your clothes and stop this foolishness!"

Ben obeyed and looked and Michael brokenly. Michael looked back steadfastly and nodded slightly. He understood. It was all right.

The soldier continued to hold him hostage until Ben was ready to go. The soldier pushed him out of the cottage ahead of him.

This time it was Ben who yelled back: "I love you, Michael!"

And Michael yelled back: "I know!"

At last the soldier released him. "Try this again, and you will be hurt! Oh, and the majesties will be informed!"

"Good! Then you can give them a message from me!"

"What's that?"

"Bring it on!" he snarled. And with that, Michael slammed the oak door as hard as he could in the smug bastard's face.

And he was left with the cold and the dark, once again. Slowly, he went back up to bed. He realized his was probably going to be in BIG trouble. Fear gripped his heart. He grabbed Ben's pillow and smelled his scent until he fell asleep.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 Disclaimer: I don't own Queer as Folk or any of its characters. This is a fanfic. It is for non profit purposes only. Viagra may cause a priapism. Beans may cause gas.

 

 

 

CINDERFELLA

 

Chapter 9

 

Hobbies and...Being Temperamental

 

 

 

The next morning, the incident was reported to Brian and Justin.

 

"Where is Sir Ben now?" asked Justin.

 

"He - he's in the dungeon, your majesty," said the guard, a little confused. Where else would he be?

 

"Release him! Immediately!" Justin said authoritatively.

 

"But Majesty! He - I-..."

 

"Immediately!" Justin's voice was quiet but firm. "Have him cleaned up and brought here within 30 minutes or less or you...will take his place."

 

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Brian asked.

 

"Yes. Michael is just acting out of boredom. And it's my fault because I've isolated him with nothing to do. Please Brian, let me handle this?"

 

"Hey, as far as I'm concerned this is your project. Besides," he leered, "the way you ordered around that guard got me hot!"

 

"Oh please! You get hot watching me order take out!"

 

"True."

 

Fifteen minutes later, Sir Ben was brought before them. The guard was instructed to wait outside. He bowed and scraped his way out.

 

"Now, Sir Ben, what is your account of all this?" asked Justin.

 

Ben told him. He finished off with: "Sir, he was distraught. I could not leave him. I could not refuse him. He complained of boredom, of the solitude. When I first got there he was - he was like an animal. Literally. He snarled and heaved and attacked me. He howled like a wolf. He bit me."

 

"He bit you? Are you hurt?"

 

"No, no! It was some sort of mating ritual." He showed them. "My point is, I think he was becoming unhinged. I couldn't leave him. I just couldn't. If that means I have to go back to the dungeon, then so be it. But I'm not sorry. I love him."

 

"I'm glad to hear that Ben. Don't worry; no one is going to any dungeon. You can go home and prepare for next Wednesday. I cannot explain everything to you, but the reason you MUST leave at midnight is because if you have sex on any other day, except the night of the full moon, ESPECIALLY Thursday, it will wreck all I am trying to do. So no other partners for the next 4 months, all right?"

 

"I assure you, Michael is my one and only. But Sire, what ARE you trying to do?"

 

"I'd rather not say right now. I'd like you to trust me for now. If what I am trying to make happen does happen, you will know. And both you and Michael's joy will be full."

 

"All right, King Justin, I'll trust you. But what about Michael? He's still in the same position he was before I got there. And what are you going to do to him? Please don't hurt him."

 

"Michael's position is my fault. It seems I did not think things through. I will have a think and fix it. He will not be punished."

 

"Thank you Sire."

 

"Now go in peace and send the guard back in when you leave."

 

Ben did so.

 

"I want you to go and take a companion guard with you and stakeout Michael at his cottage. Do not let him see you. Watch over him and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Gauge his moods and actions and bring me a report."

 

"Yes Sire!" the guard hurried away, anxious to regain Justin's favor.

 

 

 

That night...

 

 

 

"Sire, I have returned."

 

"Good, what is your report?"

 

"The prisoner did not seem to be suicidal. He kept an eye on the path up to the path a lot and otherwise just seemed depressed. He sat, and ran around and then sat some more. He ate. He sang at bit..."

 

Justin winced. Oh dear.

 

"...it wasn't bad but it mostly ended up with him crying and wallowing in depression again. At sunset he got quiet and watched the sun set. When it got dark, he shut himself up in the house and there was no more to see, so we came back. That's it."

 

Justin leaned forward. "Did you say, he was singing well?"

 

"Y-yes majesty. I mean, he was a little off key but otherwise he is quite a good tenor."

 

So...Michael had found his voice and stopped stepping on cats' tails. Interesting.

 

"Uh, Sire?"

 

"You may go." Justin dismissed him.

 

Justin went to Brian. "It seems I've made a grave error regarding Michael. Also, he's waiting for the boom to fall. I need to go visit him tomorrow. Would you like to come?"

 

"Do you need me to?"

 

"Except for company, I believe I can handle it."

 

"It's your project. I trust you to do just that"

 

Justin grinned his sunshine smile. "Thanks Brian."

 

"No problem. Say, c'mere a sec."

 

"What is it Brian?" Justin went over to the bed.

 

Brian grabbed him and threw him down on the bed. "I just had a question. Would you like to cum?"

 

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

 

The next day...

 

 

 

At 9 AM Justin took off in the royal limo for the forest. A contingent of guards followed him. He leaned back and had a drink and relaxed, luxuriating. It was nice to be in a car that he knew would not vanish away. They rode into the forest for 2 hrs and by 11:AM they arrived at the gate.

 

In reality, Michael was much, much closer to the castle than he thought. True, he was deep in the forest, deep enough for him to get seriously lost if by some miracle he managed to get over the fence. But he wasn't a day away either. He had been blindfolded and just driven around all day and then driven to the house Justin had prepared for him.

 

Justin quietly unlocked the gate. He and two guards went inside while two more guarded the gate. They went along a little way. About halfway to the turn, Justin heard singing. Justin called a halt. He gave the coronet he was wearing to a guard and commanded: "Wait here until I come back. I want to see and deal with this myself."

 

Justin crept along the path, went into the forest and looked out between the trees. Michael was sweeping the porch free of non-existent dirt and singing. Indeed, he was singing as a good tenor although a little off key.

 

 

 

I love a knight in bright armor

 

My bright knight loves me

 

But his armor is fading,

 

So I'll never be free

 

 

 

My days are so lonely

 

At night comes my groom

 

But my knight, he is fading

 

So my house is my tomb

 

 

 

If I had one wish, dear

 

I'd spend all the night through

 

With you in my arms, Ben

 

The whole long night through

 

 

 

I never will marry

 

I'll be no man's groom

 

These woods are my temple

 

This house is my tomb

 

 

 

He sang it a second time through before the depressing weight of the song drove him to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and broke down weeping in heartbreak. The broom fell forgotten.

 

Justin stepped out from the trees and walked softly toward the house. He stopped a little way away from it.

 

"You've improved a great deal," he said in his gentle voice.

 

Michael jumped as if he'd been burned and stared as if he were seeing a ghost. Desperately, he tried to compose himself.

 

"What are you doing here? Where did you come from?" he asked roughly.

 

Justin ignored him. "Although, the song is all wrong. You will not die here. And you will marry Ben when the time is right."

 

"Until you decide I've served my purpose. Or if the cure doesn't work. Then you'll leave me here to rot."

 

"No, Michael. Whether it does or not, I will free you and you can marry Ben for the rest of your days. Although, I'm very sure it will."

 

"Oh. Well, thank you. So, why are you here? To punish me for not wanting Ben to leave? I only wanted him to stay the night, you know. Well, my answer's still the same...Bring it on!"

 

Justin stepped closer, one step. Ever so slowly as one might approach a wild bird he didn't want to scare away.

 

"No Michael. I came here to apologise."

 

"You what?"

 

"I came to apologise."

 

"For what?"

 

"When I designed this prison, I made a flaw. I included all the creature comforts to keep you alive but nothing to occupy your time, your mind. No wonder, you're so depressed, so bored. I gave you nothing to do but think. And so your imagination's taking off. I'm so sorry."

 

"You have no idea. I can't even read because all I do is think and wonder about Ben. I miss him every minute. And then you dangle him in front of me for one evening like a meaty bone in front of a dog and expect me to just give him up without a fight? I couldn't do it, Justin, I just couldn't do it!" He broke down again.

 

Justin made it onto the porch. He enfolded Michael in his arms and they sat on the porch swing. "I'm so sorry, brother. I'm so sorry."

 

For a while they just swung and Justin thought.

 

"So what can we do to make this better?" he asked, "What do you like to do for a hobby?"

 

"I don't know, really. In the days...before...all I liked was singing and comics. God, that sounds pathetic. But I was no good at the singing and I think I was only doing it to make Father happy. As for the comics, well, I still enjoy them but I've been looking through the ones here (thanks by the way) and I never realized how simplistic the storylines are. Hell, I could write a better comic!"

 

Justin's face lit up. "That's it! Michael, you shall!"

 

"I shall what?"

 

"You shall write a better comic. Or stories. Or a book. Or whatever you wish. You shall write."

 

"Oh Justin, I was just kidding! I can't write."

 

"Time will tell. You can try."

 

"Yes, I can do that."

 

"It'll help you ignore the silence, make the time pass, and occupy your imagination to keep the bad thoughts away. It's perfect. Will you try?"

 

"Yes, I will try. But who would read my drivel?"

 

"I will read it. As for whether it's good or bad, time will tell. I'll have a typewriter and paper brought to you tomorrow." Justin stood. "Will you walk me out?"

 

"All right. Justin, thank you for being so cool about...well about the other night. I'm sorry."

 

They started slowly through the clearing and along the path.

 

It's all right Michael. I forgive you. But I cannot impress upon you the importance of sending Ben home on time. If you make love at all on Thursday unless it is the full moon, it will wreck all. I've also impressed upon Ben the same thing. Oh, but I haven't told him that we're trying for a cure. I thought it would make for a good surprise. Besides, I thought it would be better for him to hear it from you. If you decide to tell him."

 

"I think I'll let him be surprised too," said Michael.

 

"Good."

 

"So Justin...what's YOUR hobby?"

 

Justin stilled. "What?"

 

"What's your hobby?" he repeated.

 

"My great love now is pleasing my husband."

 

Michael squared his shoulders and planted his feet. "Well, how fun for him!"

 

Justin turned. "Be careful, Michael!"

 

But Michael was beyond caring. Justin was leaving and he was still a prisoner. "I'm serious! That's not a hobby! That's an amusement park ride! For him! Come on, Justin! I know the pleasure of lovemaking with Ben myself, but that's not my hobby! That's my heart! What do you like to do that makes YOU happy?"

 

Justin thought about it. "You know, I'm not sure. Growing up, I never was given much opportunity to develop any," he said pointedly.

 

Michael had nothing to say about that.

 

By this time they had come within sight of the guards.

 

"I'd better go from here on my own. Good luck on your new project Michael."

 

"Thanks. Good bye then."

 

He watched Justin accept a crown from a guard and they all left. He watched Justin turn a key and lock him in. He recognized the scraping noise from his first night and realized what it was now. And to hear, to watch Justin do it, he felt as if the key was scraping and cutting into his heart as well.

 

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

 

As promised, the next day a typewriter, three one foot high stacks of paper, a roll of pencils, and a pencil sharpener were delivered by 4 guards. Michael sat on the couch like a statue until they were gone. He told them to put everything on the dining table. They did so.

 

"King Justin wanted you to know that the typewriter has been enchanted to be self correcting. He said to he will send more supplies with your knight and to give him anything you are finished with."

 

Michael nodded mutely to show he understood. They left. He listened to their footsteps crunch away. And then there was nothing.

 

He sat there a while longer looking at nothing, listening to nothing.

 

Finally, he ran his hands down his face and gave a ragged sigh. Then he got up and went over to the typewriter. He put in a piece of paper. He sharpened a pencil. He took another piece of paper and closed his eyes. He imagined Ben's broad frame and hard muscles. Solid and warm and firm. As they should be. As they would be. They would. They must be...they must. He imagined him hooded. No. Masked. Better. He drew this. He closed his eyes. He imagined him in his favorite hero's costume, as Captain Astro. Then he began to change the colors. Different colors switched and changed. Faster and faster. Then faster still, like cards shuffling.

 

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBMB

 

Next Wednesday...

 

 

 

This time when Ben knocked on the door, Michael was ready but not desperate. He opened the door and slowly took Ben's large and transparent hands and pulled him inside. He was dressed formally and he had a fire burning in the fireplace. On the dining room table, the blue tablecloth was spread out and there were two serving of linguini with white sauce and two wine glasses and the bottle of wine Ben had brought last time. The typewriter and other writing supplies had been long since moved to the counters near the sink.

 

"Oh, Michael, this all looks lovely!" Ben exclaimed as he let himself be drawn inside and Michael shut the door.

 

"Thank you, Ben. It helps when you're not obsessing about sex 24/7."

 

"The writing's going well then?"

 

"Yes. I'll give you something to take back later. But first, I thought you might like something to eat. And we could have some of that wine you brought last time. We never did...we never did get to drink anything last time. I'm sorry about..."

 

But then Ben was behind him and his large arms were tight around his waist and he was kissing his neck, making him crazy.

 

"Shhhhh. Don't say any more. It started out rough but it was erotic as hell. What is that you're wearing? It's making me hot."

 

Michael turned in Ben's arms and they kissed deeply. "I found it in the wardrobe. I thought I'd wear it for the dinner."

 

"Then let's eat. Because I can't wait to take that off you...stitch...by...stitch."

 

"I like the way you think." They kissed again.

 

They ate. They drank. They looked into each other's eyes. But they hurried for they knew their time was short and because the looks they were giving each other were making each other hotter and hotter.

 

Finally, they were done. Tonight, Ben's FADES was a little progressed, making him slightly transparent. Because he couldn't actually tonight, Ben looked deep into Michael's eyes and said, "I just picked you up and threw you over my shoulder."

 

"And now you're carrying me up to bed," Michael finished.

 

And as they ran up to the bedroom, Michael thought, "And someday you shall....every night. Justin, you better be right about this."

 

As promised, Ben undressed Michael inch by tortuous inch, kissing and licking and loving him the whole way down. This time it was one long languorous make out and lovemaking session.

 

Afterward, Michael clung to him and whispered, "Ben, don't leave me."

 

"Mikey, you know I can't stay. We both..."

 

Michael placed a finger over his beautiful lips, shushing him. "I don't mean now. Please...don't leave me...ever."

 

Ben smiled. "Ohhhh. Now that I'll do. Or not do." And then there was nothing but kissing until the knock on the door.

 

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMB

 

The next day...

 

 

 

Justin sat down in a quiet space and pulled Michael's first installment of his creation toward him. He began to read.

 

Michael had started off with a description of the hero and his villain counterparts. The hero was named Rage. He wore a bandit mask and Michael described him on wearing purple tights with a ripped slash across the chest. Justin continued to read. First panel...second panel...

 

My God! This was good! Justin could see it. He could see everything in his mind. He read the first panel again. He closed his eyes. He could see...everything. The colors. The skyline. The cityscape Michael was describing.

 

There was a pad of writing paper on the desk. Justin pulled it toward him. He kept reading. As he did, his right hand found a pencil and without really thinking about it, began to move it across the paper...

 

 

 

Several hours later...

 

 

 

"Sunshine! Where are you, Sunshine!?" Brian called. He hadn't seen Justin all day. It had felt like a year and he'd been wandering over the castle for an hour looking.

 

Finally, he found him in a small office. He was at a desk, looking out the window, facing away from the door. He was staring out the window, but his right hand was busy. Occasionally, he'd look down but then he stare back up and zone out again, his pencil in his hand, busy...busy...

 

"Justin, where you been, man? I missed you!"

 

Justin didn't respond.

 

"Justin? Sunshine?"

 

Nothing.

 

Brian came up behind him. "Justin, what are you doing?" He tapped his shoulder.

 

Justin jumped about a foot. "What!!? Who's there?? Oh, Brian, it's you! What's up?

 

"Justin, what are you doing? How long have you been here?"

 

"I was just reading Michael's stuff and doodling I think. It's only been a few minutes or so...I think..."

 

"Justin, I haven't seen you all day! It's nearly dinnertime. What have you been...Wow! This is good stuff! Hey! Is this...ME!?"

 

"Whaa-Did I do all that?"

 

"You sure did!"

 

Justin had drawn out two pages of Michael's comic book in stark, penciled detail. Much of it was, angular, rough, but still very good, clear and clean. Rage was of course, Brian, with a fuller chest, bumpier but not overly defined muscles, and an impressive package showing through his tights.

 

"Sunshine, I didn't know you could draw!"

 

Justin looked at the comic and back to Brian with wide, wondering eyes. "Neither did I," he said.

 

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

 

A month or so later: Cottage...

 

 

 

And so, Michael fell into a new routine, one that was much more fulfilling. He's get up, eat, have some exercise and think about new ideas. He'd check out the garden, maybe harvest a few vegetables for a homemade salad. Then, when he ran out of things to do and the silence started to become deafening, he'd pull out the typewriter and continue where he'd left off, retype some edited stuff or just outline new ideas. He loved it when he was typing; especially when he was looking at a blank wall because he could almost see the images and scenes in his head being played out like a movie. When he got hungry, he d put the typewriter on an extra chair and let the tablecloth feed him. He'd clean it up and type some more until he got tired or finished a scene. Take a walk in the woods. Pick berries or flowers or just enjoy. Head home. Sit on the porch, eat the berries, and watch the sunset. After it had, he'd go in, shut the doors against the night and light the lamp or fireplace. Then he'd revise or work on an outline until bed. Sometimes he'd type a little, but he found he didn't like to type too much when he was tired. Then he'd go to bed.

 

Justin was right. This kept him occupied, and his imagination stimulated and instead of constantly missing Ben he was able to look forward to his visits and prepare for them and come up with new ideas to greet Ben at the door that would make his trousers tent at the sight of him. Once he greeted him in a western theme in jeans and a cowboy hat...no shirt. Once, in the chaps he had worn at the Leather Ball...and nothing else but a smile. (Which he also found in the wardrobe.) He swore that thing was enchanted as well...every time he opened it, there seemed to be something new in it.

 

Time passed. He wrote. And he lived for those five times a month when there would be a knock on the door.

 

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBMB

 

Meanwhile, at the castle...

 

 

 

"What is it, Brian?"

 

"It's a new bathing device. The inventor calls it a rainmaker box."

 

"Hmm. Weird name."

 

"That's what I told him. Well, actually what I said is that he should stuff his head...uh, that is, that it was a weird name. So, he had a queen out and flounced out saying we could name it whatever we wanted."

 

They were in their private bathroom. Against one wall were three glass walls, forming a square glass cylinder. A chrome nozzle pointed out of the wall and downward and below that at chest level was two knobs.

 

"How does it work?" asked Justin.

 

"You undress like you were getting bathed and then...just step in." Brian was rubbing up behind him, rubbing his chest, kissing his neck, making him crazy. I thought you might like a crack at naming it. Get in." A thinly veiled command.

 

"But I'm not undressed. I'm not ready for bathing." Justin protested.

 

Brian yanked his shirt from behind. All his buttons had been undone. His pants fell down. In a move that would forever remain a mystery to mortal men, Justin found he had been undressed in a single move. He stepped forward completely nude.

 

"Looks like you're ready now," Brian said smugly.

 

"How do you DO that?" Justin cried.

 

"Do what?" Brian asked innocently, "So...go on...Get in."

 

"Hmmmm...OK." Justin was beginning to smell a rat. But he found the door and stepped in.

 

"The left knob is for hot water. The right one for cold. Just turn them both on and you'll get a nice mix."

 

Justin did so. Water sprayed out of the nozzle in thin streams. He adjusted it so that it was warm but not too hot.

 

"Oh, Brian, this is fantastic! He looked over at Brian in his nice suit and smiled his sunshine grin. "It really is like rain! It feels like a spring shower! Only warm!"

 

"Hey now! There's a good name!" said Brian, enjoying the view, "We'll just call it a shower!"

 

"Mmmmmm!" Justin answered. He let the water run over his face, rubbed his eyes for about 5 seconds and looked over again. And Brian was NAKED! How DID he do that?

 

But before Justin could get a word out, Brian was opening the door, was inside, was kissing him, pulling his tongue, licking, sucking his neck, making him melt, lose control as the water ran down the both of them, making them slick and slippery.

 

"What do you say...we christen it!" Brian said wolfishly.

 

Justin found himself spun around and pressed against a glass wall. His chest and cheek were smushed up against the glass.

 

He gasped. "You planned this!" he managed.

 

"You're very astute. I love that about you."

 

And then there was no more talking because Justin was swept up in a torrid wave of conflicting sensations and emotions. The glass in front of him was slick and smooth with falling water. Brian's body behind him was bumpy and contoured with muscles. His cock was silk and steel. There was soap and water. It made lather and lube. Brian pressed forward and entered him gently and slowly. There was a bit of pain. He gasped in air and swallowed water. He lost his balance and slipped but Brian caught him and held him and pressed him back against the glass. The pain vanished and then there was only his fullness. He thrusted harder and faster and Justin pressed back to meet him. Justin lifted his head up and back and Brian moved his forward and down, licking and nuzzling Justin's neck. He was in control. Brian was in control. He was raped. He was cherished.

 

And then there was only pleasure.

 

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

 

Sometime into the 2nd month...

 

 

 

Michael was grumpy.

 

He had writer's block and something was wrong with the tablecloth. He hadn't eaten decently in a week. It had been putting out a decreasing quality of food lately and Michael was getting fed up. Or not getting fed up, if you wanted to look at it that way. Hamburgers. Hotdogs. Baloney sandwiches and an apple. Franks and beans. On and on it was going. And all that was not helping his writer's block.

 

Dinnertime. Time to try again. He clapped his hands and said: "I'm hungry, give me something to eat!"

 

The tablecloth flapped a corner twice and did nothing.

 

Michael repeated the ritual. Again, the corner flapped upward as if to say, "And??"

 

"Look, you! I am in no mood for this! I'm tired and cranky and I don't think I've eaten a vegetable for 3 days!" He clapped. "I'm hungry! Give me something to eat! NOW!!"

 

The tablecloth flipped open sharply...One! Two! Three! Four!

 

"Uh oh!" thought Michael.

 

A large, stainless steel cylinder of a soup pot appeared. Inside, was a pea/broccoli green, thick soup and a ladle. No bowl. No spoon. No napkins. No nothing. Just the soup drum.

 

Slowly, Michael raised the ladle to his lips. He tried to take a small taste but as he did, he felt if move on its own, surge into his mouth, over his tongue, and down his throat and he got a whole mouthful of the concoction instead.

 

OH!! OH, HOLY HELL!!! Oh, that was disgusting! It was like peas and broccoli, and cabbages and stinky cheese and cum and they had all gone rotten. Michael rushed to the sink and pumped water into his mouth gargling and spitting, spitting and gargling, desperately trying to get that taste out of his mouth. It didn't really work. Desperately, Michael scraped at his tongue.

 

BLORP!!

 

Oh, God. The thing had made a noise. Slowly he turned.

 

BLORP!! BLOOP!! The soup made a wet bubbling pop and another and every time it did, the level in the pot grew.

 

BLOOP!! BLOOP!! BLOOP!! The pot was full to the brim.

 

"Oh no!!!" Michael breathed in horror. "Oh Stop! Stop, stop, stop!!"

 

But it didn't stop. Still BLOOP-ing, the soup began a slow popping boil and overflowed the pot, onto the table, over and onto the floor.

 

Michael made a run for it. He ran for the back door first but just as he got there, SLAM! The door closed and wouldn't budge.

 

He ran for the front door. SLAM! He was trapped inside!

 

The pot was now at a merry rolling boil and the gunk was creeping all over the floor.

 

Panicking, Michael ran upstairs to his room. The door SLAMMED in his face. He was knocked backwards and he rolled down the stairs.

 

SQUELCH!! He landed full length in the green goo. His face was coated and colored green. He tried to stand but it was impossible to stand. He slipped in the mess and fell full length once more. SPLORT!!

 

He rose to his knees and looked around. The stuff clung to him and stretched as he pulled away from it like melted cheese...or snot. Oh hell, this was disgusting, intolerable.

 

Oh no! As it reached the door, the stuff somehow congealed and grew thicker blocking the bottom crack, sealing him in. The pot was merrily bubbling away now and had risen up into a foot high geyser. The bear rug was ruined. It had splashed uncaringly onto his manuscript and typewriter. And the level was rising.

 

Why was it doing this? What had he done? Or not done?

 

"Oh stop! Please stop!"

 

The geyser only rose up to 2 feet. The level in the room was now a few inches high and rising fast.

 

Michael crawled toward the table but he slipped again. SQUELLCHH!! This time he fell in and splashed. He lifted out with difficulty and some got in his mouth again. He tried not to puke. It was thicker, if that were possible and he pulled up with difficulty. It was in his hair, matting it. The sticky strands that pulled away were gluey.

 

Michael tried to think. What was causing this? What could he do? He thought back to the instructions. Be sure to say please and thank you once in a while...it could get...temperamental.

 

Michael tried to remember the last time he had said the magic words to the tablecloth and came up empty.

 

"Look, I'm sorry! I guess I just got busy! I was writing! I forgot! I'm sorry!"

 

The geyser shot up several feet. The level rose up even faster.

 

The goop ran over his knees. Up to his thighs. It got stickier. Oh God, he couldn't move!

 

Temperamental! The thing was going to kill him!

 

"He tried again. "Look, I'm sorry, please stop! Please stop!"

 

It wouldn't stop. It rose to his waist.

 

"I don't know what you want! Please stop!"

 

It didn't stop. It rose up to his chest. He couldn't move at all now. He watched sadly as the goop sloshed over the nice couch that Justin had picked out for him to use. He thought of Justin. He thought of Ben. He had failed them both. But most of all, he had failed Ben. It rose to his shoulders.

 

With difficulty, he raised his hands out of the goop with a loud sucking noise. He clapped twice. This was his last try, his last hope.

 

"I'm done! Lay all away! Please! Please and thank you!"

 

It was up to his chin.

 

He clapped twice. "I'm done! LAY ALL AWAY! Please! Lay all away, please! Please and thank you! Please and thank-blub...blub..."

 

The goop continued to rise. It rose past his mouth. It closed over his head.

 

Michael closed his eyes and thought of Ben. His life flashed before his eyes. Since he was only 28 it didn't take...too long. Most of it was watching himself beat up Justin with Ethan in some way. And then there was the Leather Ball. And then there was Ben. And then there was only Ben.

 

Wait a minute! Those were real flashes! The level was going down!

 

The green goop was being sucked back into the drum. The level went down and uncovered his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Michael sucked in a huge breath. The goop continued to be sucked back into the soup drum. The entire sea of goop was flashing, green and bright, brighter, and even brighter with each flash. The goop was sucked back and then his arms were free. There was a flash and BOOM!

 

Michael covered his head and closed his eyes. There was a terrific flash and an enormous BOOOM!! Michael fell onto his face full length on the floor. And then there was only silence.

 

Wait a minute! He was on the floor! Which meant...

 

Michael slowly raised his head and then pushed himself to his knees. He looked around in wonder.

 

It was gone. It was all gone. The floor was clean, he was clean, the couch was spotless and even the bearskin rug was fluffy and clean. The typewriter was just as he'd left it and his manuscript was back on the table in a neat stack. The soup drum had vanished and the tablecloth was folded up as usual.

 

Michael jumped to his feet and rushed to the door. It opened now. He ran out onto the porch, leaned on the railing and just breathed for a bit. The cool night air felt good on his skin after his stifling, near death experience. He thought of everything he had seen as his life flashed before him. Ordering Justin around. Punching him. Holding him down while Ethan worked him over. His father yelling, always yelling. Everything. Only this time he was seeing it from his point of view and from Justin's. He sank into the porch swing, overcome with remorse. For the first time he was sorry, truly sorry for everything he'd done to Justin. He held his head in his hands. My God, he could have died, here and no one would have known! And he was here for being a total dick! He deserved this! He was lucky that Justin had only sent him here for four months! My God! Looking back on it, he knew if the positions were reversed, he would have sent Justin here for years. He still didn't like being here but he knew now that's what he deserved as well.

 

Slowly, he swung in the deepening night and cried for a while, real cleansing tears of sorrow and regret, regret of his misdeeds, regret for his family's misdeeds, regret for two childhoods lost.

 

 

 

A while later...

 

 

 

Michael re-entered the cottage. He felt...better. He wished he could say he felt airy, light and free. But he couldn't. He wasn't free. But at least now he knew why he wasn't. And that he shouldn't be. And maybe that he wouldn't be ever again.

 

The cottage was quiet, serene, everything as usual. Everything was showroom clean, as brand new as when he first arrived.

 

He went up to the table. "I'm sorry I took you for granted." He clapped. "I ‘m hungry. Give me something to eat, please."

 

The cloth opened at once and served him a dish of chicken parmigiana on a bed of wild rice, a green salad and chocolate cake with a glass of champagne.

 

TBC

 

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 10

FADE OUT

Next Wednesday night...

 

Ben noticed a change in Michael that night. He was passionate, anxious for sex as always but tonight it was tempered by...something else. He was calmer, more relaxed somehow. He was much more interested in kissing and talking and eating than actually getting to bed. Finally, Ben gathered him up and kissed him and wouldn't let up until he felt Michael go weak in the knees in compliance.

"Mmmm, what was that for?" Michael asked, all heavy lidded and turned on.

"To get you in the sack. In case you've forgotten, I'm on the clock here. Not to mention, I spent all week on the hunt for a dragon so I'm tired and incredibly horny. I'm tired of talking! Let's get to the action!" And he kissed him again, hard and ruthless until Michael was a quivering mass of mushy desire and Ben yanked up his shirt.

"Now, get upstairs...NOW BOY!" he said in that special voice that he had used on Michael at the Leather ball that had made Michael turn his head in the first place.

Michael recognized the voice and remembered and so did his cock. "Yes SIR!' he said and ran up the stairs. Ben chased him.

 

One round later...

 

"Ben?" Michael asked drowsily.

"Yes, love?" answered Ben. He expected an ‘I love you' or other declaration of monogamy so when he heard Michael's next words he nearly fell out of bed.

"I want to top you," Michael said.

"Wha - what? You know I'm a total top!"

"Yeah, I know, I know... But I just...well, I want to feel you...want to feel what it's like to be inside you...just this once," Michael moved to straddle Ben. He kissed him, long, slow, and deep, working Ben's tongue over.

"Michael, what's got into you? You've never wanted anything like this before. I thought you were a confirmed receiver!"

"Just once. Just this once. Just in case...just in case...please Ben." Michael kissed him and moved down to a special spot just below his ear. This never failed to arouse Ben and melt him into a puddle at the same time. This time was no exception.

"Ohhhh...ohhh God! Oh, wow! Just in case...what, Mike?"

"Oh, just in case...I never get around to asking again. Please, Ben?" He assaulted the special spot again.

"Do you even know what do?" Ben said weakly.

"No. I need you to show me. I want you to be the one to show me. Now and forever. Show me what to do, Ben." He latched onto that spot and hung on, sucking like a vampire bat. Ben arched in pleasure. And all the while, Michael was whispering in his ear, "Show me, Ben. Show me. Show me. Show me Ben. Show me..."

Ben showed him.

MBMBMBMBMBMBMB

The next day...At the castle...

 

"And that's the story, King Justin."

NO, Ben had NOT gone into detail about their sexcapade. What kind of sick, twisted fairy tale did you think this was, anyway?

Instead, Ben had just described Michael's weird change in habits and his mentioning about just in case he never got around to asking again. It worried Ben. It made it sound like Michael was expecting a time when he wouldn't or couldn't ask again.

"And then, when it was time to go, he gave me his manuscript and made me promise to personally deliver it to you. Here it is, by the way."

"Thank-you, Ben," Justin answered in his calm fashion, "Is there anything wrong about him asking this?"

"No, Sire, it was just the way he did that concerns me. He just kept asking and asking. Make sure...Make sure... he kept saying. He never asked that of me before. Something's happened to him, Sire, I just know it. Something's changed, and it scares me!"

"I can see how much you love my brother," Justin said, "That pleases me a great deal, Ben. If things go well, we may soon be able to drop the formalities."

"I'd like that, sir."

"In the meantime, don't worry about Michael. I will discern what has changed even if I have to go visit him again. Go in peace, and thank you for his work."

"Thank-you, Sires," Ben bowed to Brian and Justin and went out.

"What do you suppose has got into him, Sunshine?" Brian asked.

"I'm sure I don't - oh, wait, here we go. This is why he had Ben hand deliver it." Justin had turned the first page and stuck in deep where it wouldn't fall out (with too much handling) was piece of paper folded in quarters. JUSTIN was written on it in pencilled calligraphy.

"Shall I leave you alone with it?" Brian asked.

‘No. I'm going to share everything with you later on anyway. You might as well read it with me." Justin unfolded the paper.

They read:

 

Dear Justin...and Brian.

Yes, if you love my brother like I love Ben, then I suppose you are reading and I must say hello to you as well,

A few days ago, I had an incident with the tablecloth. It got...temperamental. Everything's all right now and I won't bore you with the details. However thanks to that incident, it made me think about my life. About my past. About where I am now and how I got here. And about my future, should I have one after this house.

Due to the...incident, I was forced to take a hard look at my past and all I saw was Father yelling at you, the lot of us ordering you about, beating you up, taking you for granted, and worse. Worst of all, I did all that. I saw it all again, from my point of view...and from yours, Justin. All I can say is that I'm sorry. I really am, well and truly sorry for everything I've done to you now. And I understand why you want me here in this prison now. And I accept it. I can accept it and thank you that you only made it for four months. I can tell you, if our situations were reversed, I probably would have locked you in here for a few years. In fact, if that's what you'd like to do...to extend my punishment, to take Ben away from me, I understand now and I am prepared. I enjoyed my last and possibly very last conjugal visit very much. I have come to accept and love my forest cottage as my new home for as long as you desire...even if it is for the rest of my days.

Your loving brother,

Michael.

 

"Good Grief! Is there anybody in your family who isn't a drama queen?" asked Brian.

"Hmmm, I think I'll be the one to write back to Mikey," said Justin, ignoring him. "Now, let's see what he's come up with here."

The first page was a description of a new villain. THE OOZE: The all-consuming Green Menace!

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

 

Dearest Michael,

I'm so, so proud of you. You have learned something that your relatives never will...remorse. I knew you would see this day, ever since that day when you stopped stepfather's fist with your own and told us you had discovered love.

I think the time has come for me to be frank with you. I have no desire to punish you at all. I never did, ever since you jumped onto stepfather to try and save my loafer and got knocked out for your trouble. I knew then that your loyalties had changed and that love had changed your heart. I heard you from the basement tell your relatives to leave you alone, that you wanted Ben, but they didn't listen and kidnapped you anyway. That is why I had the police separate you from them when you were arrested and put you in the better jail. I explained why you were alone there and on a larger scale, that is why you are at the cottage. I am not locking you in there, not really. I am locking everyone else out. You mentioned a rat in a cage. That is what you are, on a larger scale, of course. I needed you in a controlled environment. I needed you safe. I needed you celibate except for Ben. At the same time though, I wanted you to feel imprisoned so that eventually your breakthrough would happen. And now it has so there is no need for you to be in delusion any longer. The fact that you are sorry and your heartfelt apology are all I require of you and all that I ever wanted. If I had put you in any other prison, there would be the constant possibility that you would be raped or gotten FADES or both and for the cure to work I couldn't have that. As for the cure, it is simply this: If a person with FADES makes love safely with a healthy person every Wednesday and on the full moon for four months, he or she will be cured. That's it. That's why Ben must leave at midnight, and that's why you must be at the cottage for just a little while longer. As I said on that day of the sentencing, it is so strange and simple that I want to prove it with you and Ben first. And when Ben is cured, you will come home at last, and the both of you will be national heroes.

So, no Michael, I am not going to deprive you of Ben. I am not going to leave you there past the fourth month, much less the rest of your life. In fact, you can expect me to come for you on the last Thursday morning of the fourth month.

I forgive you, Michael. Now, forgive yourself, and be happy.

And now, I believe there is a hunky messenger man waiting for your attention. Good night.

Your loving brother,

Justin

PS. Both Brian and I are enjoying your writing very much.

 

"What does it say?" asked Ben, "Justin would only say to deliver it to you and under no circumstances read it."

Happy tears dropped out of Michael's eyes. He folded up the paper and dropped it in the fire.
"Just some boring family stuff. One thing in there I'll tell you later. But mostly that everything's fine now. Everything's going to be all right!" He hugged Ben and a few more tears dampened his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing. It said you should take me, right here, right now and make sweet, safe love to me, here on the bear rug."

"Ahhhh!!" Ben smiled wolfishly. "Now, that I'll do." He kissed Michael hotly. Tongues duelling, they lowered each other down in front of the fire and ripped each other's clothes off.

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMB

The 3rd Month...

 

And so began a period of great joy for Michael. He knew he was loved both by his partner and by his brother and brother in law. He knew he was not a prisoner but a person of great value. He was able to stop looking at his cage as a prison which was a huge load off his back. Instead, he saw it as a shell, a security blanket, a safe-house. This made him feel much better. It was still quiet and boring at times, but at those times, Michael would throw himself into his writing and the hours would fly by. His writing got even better, if he did say so himself. The action got wilder, more intense, and was full of joyful eroticism.

Ben continued to come every week. (And cum...and cum...) As time went on, his FADES began to fluctuate wildly. One week he arrived and was almost solid. Still very squishy, and soft but almost completely solid. The next week he came, he was barely visible. That week was difficult, because he was so scared he was going to pop out it was very hard for him to get aroused at all. Michael discovered that when he put his hands or body through Ben's, it generated an intensely erotic sensation, the likes of which both of them had never felt before. After they did that for a while, Michael put a blindfold on him and very slowly, sensually, and carefully topped him. He whispered sweet nothings in his ears and ran his hands constantly through his broad, transparent chest, over and through his cock, eliciting such intense feelings that Ben had a spontaneous orgasm. As for Michael, it was like fucking a bubble, only whenever he thought it was going to pop, the membrane came back and squeezed him even harder.

The next week after that, he was nearly solid one moment and then flickered out almost down to nothing the next. He kept flickering like that, as a tired light bulb all evening. It made love making difficult but they managed. Michael knew he must persevere. He must. Justin, he thought that week, you'd better be right about this!

 

The 4th Month...

 

It got colder.

Michael was now quite sure the wardrobe was enchanted. One day he opened it up and there was a thick, white parka with lovely soft lining and white fur edging around the hood and cuffs in there. He had never seen it before. Pinned to the coat was a note in curly writing:

 

Dear Mikey,

It's getting along in the year and the frosts are coming so I thought I'd send this along for you to snuggle up in when you have your walks around the woods. Besides, Justin would absolutely kill me if I let you get the sniffles. Stay toasty, sweetums!

Your Auntie Em.

 

How strange. Mikey was quite sure he had no idea who this Auntie Em character was but he thanked her nonetheless and the coat too, just to be on the safe side. He had long since stopped taking possible or confirmed enchanted inanimate objects for granted.

The coat was indeed wonderfully warm for when he needed to get out of the house for a bit. It was now for pleasure walks or to get wood; the garden had all but died off or frozen by now. Inside, the Dutch doors were both closed now and the fireplace was almost always going. Michael spent more and more time writing. He still kept up the comic but he tried out a short story or two as well.

Michael was excited about this month. Not only was it his last, it was a five week month and not only that; the last Wednesday was also the full moon. He didn't know what all that meant but what he did know is that he would get to see Ben 5 times that month. And that made him very happy.

Ben continued to fluctuate wildly. But even at his dimmest, he would never actually disappear, so eventually they just stopped worrying about it and took it easy when they needed to.

Time passed. Michael wrote. The cottage got cosier inside as it got colder outside. He moved the typewriter to a special spot nearer to the fireplace. And dreamed of Wednesdays.

 

The last Wednesday of the fourth month...The castle...

 

"Sire, we are about to take Sir Ben to your brother. The same instructions as always?"

"Yes, yes...Wait! No!"

The guard waited.

In his mind, an off key voice sang through his mind:

 

If I had one wish, dear

I'd spend all the night through

With you in my arms, Ben

The whole long night through

 

"Sire? What are your orders then?"

"I want you to drop Ben off at the cottage and lock them both in. Wait until he's out of earshot until you do so. Then just come home. Let them have the night together. Whatever is supposed to happen tonight, will happen. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Either way it won't matter if they spend the night together. So just leave them alone. I'll go myself to fetch them tomorrow."

"It shall be as you wish, Prince Justin."

The guard snapped his heels together and went out.

 

The Cottage...6:00 PM...

 

"Hello, Mike. How are you doing tonight?"

"Same as always. Horny and missing you. But it makes for good writing. Come in. Are you cold?"

"A bit. Nothing a bit of YOU, won't fix." He smiled wolfishly.

Michael drew him in and shut the door against the cold and the dark.

He sat him down by the fire. "There is that better?"

"Mmmmm, much! But I still prefer a little BODY HEAT!" Ben crushed him to him and kissed him one of his patented killer kisses. Michael could feel his willpower slipping away.

"Wait! Don't you want some dinner first?"

"The only thing I want to eat is rather high in...protein!"

"Ben, no! Wait! This is our last night together here. I want it to be special. And besides...after tonight...things might...change."

"Change? What do you mean?"

"Remember that letter you delivered for Justin? Remember I said there was something in there that I would tell you about later? I should tell you now."

"Well, the way I see it you have a choice... You can tell me about some boring family letter..." Ben began to unbutton his shirt one...button...at...a time. "Or you can watch me do a private strip show for you...while I give you a lap dance. Your choice."

Michael gulped. Well, really, which one would you pick?

 

One lap dance and several rounds of fantastic sex later...

 

"God, I can't believe it's almost midnight already!"

"Yeah." Michael felt that familiar stab of pain that came whenever Ben had to leave.

"What's the matter, babe?"

"Same old...same old. Oh, Ben! This is our last night together before...well, before Justin said my time is up. Oh, can't they leave us alone, just to sleep, just once?" Michael sat on the edge of his side of the bed and buried his head in his hands.

Ben came up behind him and put his arms around him. He started to lazily play with his nipples something they both knew that drove Michael crazy. This time was no exception. Michael threw his head back, revelling in the sensations and Ben kissed and sucked on his neck right where he knew it got to Mikey the most. Michael groaned.

He enjoyed it for another few seconds and then pulled away abruptly. "Now, now, big boy, don't go starting something you can't finish."

"Ben stilled his busy hands. "Yeah, you're right. But remember what we agreed on a long time ago, Mikey. No matter where this crazy world places us, as long as I'm in here..." He placed his hand on Michael's chest over his heart. "...and you're in here..." he took Mike's hand and put it over his transparent chest. "...we'll never be apart. Not really."

"Oh God, how did I get so goddam lucky!" Michael cried, kissing Ben passionately for several more precious minutes.

Suddenly, Ben broke away and yawned hugely. "I'm sorry, Mike. I have no idea where that came from."

"That's OK. Are you feeling OK?"

"Yeah...I think so. But I think I'd better get my shit together. I have a feeling I'm going to fall asleep on the way back to the castle."

"OK."

Ben dressed a little sluggishly and Michael packed his knapsack that he always brought with him. They went downstairs. Michael packed in his finished writing as always and they sat down to wait.

As midnight approached, Ben yawned more and more frequently. He dozed. Midnight came and went and there was no knock.

"That's odd. They're usually so punctual." Michael shook Ben awake. "Ben! It's time!"

Ben awoke but his eyes were dozy and glazed with sleep. "Is it time?"

"Yes! But no one's come! I'm going to check!'

Michael went to the door and opened it. He went out on the porch. The porch was empty, the yard was empty, even the path leading into the forest toward the gate was empty.

The cold blast of air was enough to finally shake Ben out of his stupor. "Brrrrrr. Is anyone there?"

"No. How strange. They're usually banging down the door, not letting us have a single extra minute." Michael came back inside.

With the cozy warmth back, Ben began to get dozy again.

He yawned hugely. P'raps they're not comin'."

"Of course they're coming. They always come."

Ben shrugged and yawned. They sat on the couch and waited. Ben rested his head on Michael's shoulder.

"Love you Mikey," he said. He fell asleep again.

"Love you too, buddy," Michael returned fondly.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael decided, what the hell, if they were going to be late, he was going to take advantage.

He shook Ben. "Ben! Ben! They haven't come! Let's go to bed!"

Ben didn't wake.

Michael shook harder. Nothing. He shook and yelled. Ben opened his eyes sleepily, smiled widely, goofily, and then fell back asleep again.

More than a little alarmed now, Michael opened the front door wide open and came over to shake Ben awake. But this time it was only enough to rouse Ben to a state of semi-consciousness.

"Is it time yet?"

It's past time. I'm taking you up to bed! If they want us bad enough, they can come and get us!"

"Yeah! You tell ‘em Mikey!" He heaved himself off the couch and lurched toward the stairs. "Is it time yet?"

"Time for bed." Michael said.

"Mmmmmm...Like the way you think, Miiisster Mike." Ben gave Mike a big sloppy kiss.

Michael was puzzled. This was odd. Ben was behaving almost like he was drunk, or too sleepy to think straight. He closed and barred the door quickly and before Ben could fall back asleep again he propelled him toward the stairs. "Up to bed, big guy."

"Feel strange Mikey. So tired. Help me up?"

Michael did, with an arm around Ben's back. Strange. Ben felt almost like he was heavy.

At last, they made it to the top and into the bedroom. Ben's eyes widened briefly at the sight of the bed.

"Ahhhhh!!! I never realized how beautiful that bed is until just now, Mikey!" He flopped down on it. "Ohhhh, and how soft and deeeep it issss. Soooo niiice..."

He was practically asleep again.

"Ben! Wait! Don't go to sleep yet! Help me take off your clothes first!"

"Mmmmm...Always tryin' to get me outta my drawers aren't you...Miiisster Mike!?"

"Yup! That's me! Help me out here!" But Ben was too clumsy to work any laces or snaps or buttons or anything, so Michael just ended up taking off his shoes, socks and pants and leaving his underwear and shirt. Finally, Ben flopped back onto the mattress again.

"Ahhhhh!!! So soft! So good! So good! Mikey...'m scared..."

"What is it buddy? What's wrong? I'm here!" Mikey lay beside him.

"Somethin's...wrong. So...tired. He sighed deeply. "Never...been...this tired...Something...wrong..."

"Ben! What do you mean? What's wrong!!?"

"I...I don't...know....Can't...stay...awake anymore....What's...what's...happening......to me?"

He put his hand on Michael's chest again. "Remember...I'm...always.......in...............here..." He passed out.

"NOOOOOO!!!!! Ben!! NOOOOO!!!" But this time, no matter how much Michael shook him, no matter how much he yelled, Ben wouldn't wake.

Michael screamed in horror.

Without warning, Ben Faded to the lowest he'd ever gone and at the same time, he...whited out. It really was the only way to describe it. His entire body and the clothes he was wearing lost all color and distinction. He looked like a 3-D version of an uncoloured colouring book picture or even a big hunk of glass. Michael had never seen this before.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!" he screamed again. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!!

But Ben wouldn't wake up. He lay there, clear as crystal, as still as death.

Michael panicked. He hyperventilated. He didn't know what to do. Help. He had to get help. He forced himself to get his breathing under control. He tried to pinch Ben's nose to see if he was breathing. His hand went right through as if he wasn't there. He leaned right in. There was a bit of a pause and then a light exhale. Oh, thank God! He was alive!

That fact alone helped Michael calm down a great deal. As long as he was alive, he could get through anything.

Michael grabbed his parka. He leaned over Ben. "Stay alive! Whatever you do...just stay...alive! I'll be back, my dearest!"

He ran down the stairs, pulling on the parka as he went. He ran out the door and into the yard. He ran across the yard and down the path.

It was déjà vu all over again. His last night was his first in reverse. The full moon lit up the forest like it was day and iced the trees in silver. He was even amazed to see that the white flint stones were still there to guide his way. But why shouldn't they? He had never gone down this path except with Justin and so they'd never been removed.

Michael ran full tilt all the way down to the gate. There was no one there.

OK. Maybe they were a little ways away.

Michael grabbed the bars and shook and rattled them noisily. "HEY! HEEEEEEYYYYY! IS ANYBODY THERE! HELLLLP! HELP!" Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! "HELLLLLP! IS ANYBODY THERE! I NEEED HEEEELLLP!"

There was no answer. The forest was still and silent. There was nobody there. He was alone.

And then, behind him, he heard a growl.

Slowly, he turned around.

Standing in the centre of the path was an enormous white wolf. Disturbed by all the noise, it was investigating and growling. It showed its teeth. Saliva dripped from its mouth onto the ground.

Michael was terrified. He couldn't and didn't move a muscle. So, he thought, you're the one I've been hearing all this time.

The wolf growled louder and bared his teeth even more.

"YAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" Michael howled.

"AHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" the wolf howled, sitting down.

Very...slowly, Michael began to make a wide circle around the wolf.

The wolf stood up again and moved toward him but again, Michael yelled "AHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

"AHHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" howled the wolf back.

Slowly...oh, so slowly, howling, Michael made it around the wolf. "AHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" he howled. He stepped back Stepped back again.

"AHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOO!" the wolf sat at howled to the moon again. Then he stepped toward Michael. Stepped again.

"AAAHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOO!!!!" Michael howled.

"AHHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOO!!!! " the wolf howled in joy sitting down. As it did, Michael took two slow but big steps back toward the house. Once it was finished though, the wolf matched Michael step for step toward him. It moved when he moved and stopped when he stopped.

It was at this point that the white wolf went transparent. It came back solid. It flickered. It went transparent again for several minutes.

The wolf had FADES.

"AHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Michael howled in terror, his eyes wide with fear.

"AHHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" the wolf howled back in joy.

Michael used the time to back away. He stopped.

The wolf got up, jogged forward, stopped.

Howling and backing up, howling and backing up, Michael followed the flint stones back toward the house. It had become a trail of terror. The wolf matched him step for step. It wouldn't leave him be. It was a nightmare.

It took forever. All Michael could think about was Ben lying up there, whited out, comatose, possibly dead. And he couldn't get back. Not without moving very...very...slowly....very...very carefully. He wondered if the wolf was responding to his white, furry parka. He thanked God and Auntie Em, whoever she was, for it wholeheartedly.

"AHHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

"AHHHHHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" A few more steps. Oh God. Was it starting to turn?

He howled again. Bought himself a few more steps. It was turning. He was almost back.

He howled again. The wolf howled back. He was in the yard.

The wolf caught sight of the house. He didn't like the look of it. He'd been avoiding that man-house for a long time now. He growled.

"AHHHHHH-WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" howled Michael.

The wolf just growled louder. He realized he'd been tricked.

Oh Shit! That wasn't going to work any more! Michael tensed and counted to himself...1...2...3!

He bolted.

Snarling and barking in rage the wolf chased after him.

Michael ran as fast as he could toward the house. But he was no match for the wolf. Even as he ran, he could hear the wolves enraged barking get closer and closer to him as he ran across the yard.

Across the yard. Onto the porch. The wolf was at his heels. Through the door and SLAM! But it was too late! The wolf was there and he managed to get his head in the door. Snapping and snarling, and viciously barking, the wolf made it impossible to close the door.

Michael pressed the door as hard as he could and at the same time desperately kicked out and kicked the wolf's head. The wolf whimpered and drew back and Michael was at last, able to slam the door shut. He barred it. He looked outside. The wolf was pacing the porch, a little dazed but not seriously hurt.

Michael took a few deep breaths and began to relax. He took off the parka and sat down in front of what was left of the fire. For a few seconds, everything was fine. Then, all of a sudden, Michael caught sight of some movement out of the corner of his eye.

The wolf had Faded transparent again. And in this state, snarling and foaming at the mouth, it came slowly through the door.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

Author's Note: Did I tell some of you this was going to be the last chapter? Oooops. I mean NEXT chapter is the last chapter. I promise....Well....cross your fingers.

 Disclaimer: This is fanfic any and all references to Queer as Folk and its characters are for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

 

CINDERFELLA

Chapter 11

Time Will Tell

 

 

The wolf was about halfway through the door when it went solid again. Suddenly there was a snarling, foaming wolf stuck halfway in and out of the door. This made the wolf even angrier. It snarled and barked furiously. It struggled mightily but it was no use.

Mikey grabbed the poker from the fire and ran to the dining table. He might have a few minutes but who knows, he could only have seconds.

The wolf continued to bark and foam and struggle.

"OK, look! I know you're used to serving me whatever you want and it's been great! But this is an emergency! If you can hear me, understand me, I need something that a wolf would love to eat! Please and thank you! Pleaseandthankyou!" He clapped twice. "I'm hungry, give me something to eat!'

The wolf Faded. He realized he could move. His voice was a low, single, sustained snarling as he slowly came the rest of the way through the door into the house. Foam dripped off his mouth in big gobs.

Michael was terrified. He picked up a chair and held the poker straight out.

Meanwhile, as if it sensed the danger, the tablecloth opened, opened, opened quickly. A huge, red, raw, bloody T-bone steak appeared.

The wolf's focus changed. Its snarling changed into a low growling as it slowly approached the table. He tensed. He pounced.

But the wolf was still Faded. He jumped right through the table and the steak.

The wolf didn't like that. He snarled and barked wildly at Michael. He slowly began to stalk Michael instead.

"Get back!" Michael cried desperately. He brandished the chair legs. It had no effect. It only enraged the wolf further. It barked harder and snapped at the chair legs which had no effect while it was Faded.

Then, in mid-snap, it solidified. Its teeth connected with the chair leg and he bit through it like a carrot stick. He lunged at the chair again. He bit more of it to smithereens and pulled and yanked. Suddenly, Michael found he was in a desperate tug of war.

The wolf barked furiously and lunged again. He bit into the chair again and pulled and pulled. This time his grip was too strong and he pulled the chair away from Michael. Snarling in triumph, the wolf pounced and leaped onto Michael. And for Michael there was only whiteness and teeth and foam and the blackness of its maw.

The wolf bit Michael in the arm and shook it. Michael screamed in pain and fear. He didn't know what else to do so he hit the wolf over the head with the poker a few times. It had no effect. Finally, having no choice, he reared back and gouged the wolf with the poker in the side, wounding it.

The wolf let go and whimpered. He had a wound in his side that was bleeding but then again so did Michael.

As soon as the wolf let go, Michael jumped up and opened the back door. He grabbed the red, raw steak and ran out onto the porch, out into the yard and shot-putted that bad boy across the yard. Thankfully, it landed near the edge of the woods.

The wolf ran/limped after Michael and the steak, its wound bleeding, leaving a trail. As Michael threw the steak, he ran past him after the meat, like a big dog playing fetch with a bone. But this was no dog. As soon as the wolf ran after the steak, Michael ran back inside the cottage, slammed the door and locked it.

He watched through the window. The wolf attacked the steak a bit, ate some, licked its wound, and worried the steak a bit more. He licked his wound some more. Then, whimpering pitifully, he picked up the steak and slunk off into the woods.

Michael breathed a huge sigh of relief. He sat down on a chair and checked out his arm. It was pretty bad. The arm of the shirt he was wearing was red with blood. He ripped off the shirt and washed off the blood as best he could but he was still bleeding pretty badly. He pumped water over it a bit more before deciding that wasn't really going to help. He wondered about the bathroom upstairs. Maybe it would help him like the wardrobe and tablecloth. The tablecloth was still spread out. It was ugly with bloodstains from the red, raw steak.

Michael went to clap his hands. His wounded arm wouldn't lift. It was dead, like a block of wood. Uh oh. Must be some kind of shock or something, he figured. He smacked his good hand into his bad one. "I'm done. Lay all away. Thank you...so much."

The blood disappeared and the cloth folded itself up.

Michael left his bloody shirt in the sink and slowly went upstairs. He was so tired, just bone-weary. He reached the top of the stairs. Every fibre of his being wanted to turn to the left and be with Ben. But his arm was still bleeding and despite being completely dead and useless, it was also throbbing with a dull pain. He put his hand on the knob of the door to the right.

"Please," he whispered, "I've been injured. If you are anything like the wardrobe or the tablecloth, help me. I need help. I am alone. I'm - I'm scared. I don't know what to do. Please help me if you can." He turned the knob and went into the bathroom.

Oh my! This really was lovely. There were fat scented candles everywhere and the sink was full of water that was just the right temperature. Along the sides of the sink were four short, fat jars filled with different colored creamy ointments and at the top right corner of the sink was a large roll of thick, wide bandage tape.

Michael dipped his arm into the sink and again washed his arm free of the blood. The water caused the blood to flow into the water a bit more but Michael didn't mind. He felt a calming and cleansing sensation. He picked up a few of the jars as his arm was soaking and saw they were all weird herbal potions to be rubbed on in sequence.

Finally, he lifted his arm out of the water. It was still bleeding slowly but now he could see the four fang puncture wounds. He slathered on the first potion, which was green. It was sucked into his skin greedily. He slathered on more. It too vanished into his skin. The bleeding stopped entirely.

Michael slathered on the blue ointment. There was an immediate cooling sensation and the throbbing pain stopped. This was instructed to be left on for ten minutes and then washed off, followed by the red ointment.

Michael waited the appropriate time and washed off the blue ointment in the sink. The skin on his forearm was now delightfully smooth.

The red ointment tingled and burned pleasantly for a bit before settling down and then being absorbed by the puncture wounds. The dead, numb feeling was decreased by half.

The yellow ointment was instructed to be dressing applied underneath the bandaging and to be re-applied every time the bandage was changed. Accordingly, Michael slathered it on liberally and then wrapped the bandaging over it, covering his entire forearm.

Finally, he was done. He blew out all the candles (just in case) and decided to take the yellow ointment and the rest of the bandages with him. He left the bathroom, telling it, "Thank you," as he left.

Ben was just as he left him. Clear as crystal, still as death...almost.

Michael turned out the light and lay beside his boyfriend. What on earth was wrong with him? Justin said he'd be cured? Why wasn't it happening? What was going on? And where was everybody? Would anybody come at all?

All these questions made Michael dizzy. No, he thought, Justin promised. He promised he'd come the day after. They just had to make it till tomorrow. Tomorrow...tomorrow...

Michael grew dizzier. He felt a little sick. He tried to get up but he grew still dizzier. He collapsed back and fell into a deep sleep beside his boyfriend.

Ben continued his hibernation in his crystal cocoon.

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBM

 

Justin was pacing.

"Will you just get in the fucking bed?" Brian yelled for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

"It's no use. I can't sleep." Justin said.

"I know," Brian leered suggestively.

"Brian!" Justin paced. "What if it doesn't work?"

"It'll work! It'll work! Just get over here!"

Justin paced to the bed. He sat down. He put his head in his hands.

Brian pulled a maniacal face and began to steal toward Justin from behind. His hands could feel that creamy smooth skin. He was inches away.

Brian lunged. Justin stood and paced. Brian missed him by inches. He fell ass over teakettle and landed on the floor.

Justin didn't even notice. He walked over to the window, looked at nothing, turned around again.

"What are you doing on the floor?" he asked, confused.

"Fuck if I know," answered Brian.

"Maybe I should have gone and got them," he worried, pacing across the room again.

Brian got up and went over to Justin. He put his arms around him from behind. "You're the one who wanted them to have a night together."

Justin grabbed his hands. He turned in his arms and began to sway, too hyped up with nervous energy to stand or sit still. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Wrong for them to have their last night together?" Without even thinking about it they began to dance.

They were both naked. They were in their master bedroom. And yet, they were back at the Prom. They were both in tuxes. Each one looked devastatingly handsome to each other. Brian twirled Justin across the room, one, two, three times. Justin held his arm stiff behind him in the masculine fashion, as he was wont to do.

"No, that's not wrong. But I can't stop thinking about Michael."

Brian dipped him. "Should I be jealous?"

"Of course not!"

"Good." Brian danced him around the floor again. "Cuz if I'm ever given a reason to be jealous, I'd like it not to be about your brother!"

Justin dipped Brian. "You will never have a reason to be jealous of me. I promise." Brian smiled, his devastating, shit eating, sexy grin. "I'm going to hold you to that, Sunshine."

Justin pulled Brian up...or though he did. The window called to him again. He pulled away and walked toward it. Brian was pulled three quarters of the way up and stood teetering on one foot. He pinwheeled his arms for balance. He was going to make it...he was going to make it... His fingers missed the bedpost by inches. He crashed heavily to the floor.

"I have this terrible feeling that...that...oh, I don't know what. I feel like everything could come crashing down around me."

"Somehow...I know exactly how you feel."

Justin turned. "What are you doing on the floor?" he asked.

"Fuck if I know," answered Brian.

"Something's terribly wrong."

"I quite agree."

"But I don't know what."

"I know exactly what!"

"You do!?"

"I do!!" Brian growled.

"Oh, Brian what is it? What could it be?"

"Well Justin, you see, I have a little twink, blond tempter who keeps dropping me on my ass and won't get into fucking bed! That's what's wrong!"

"Oh, Brian, I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you up!" He helped Brian to his feet, and then caught sight of the window. "No, that's not it!" He paced to the window again.

Back on his feet, Brian moved to bear hug Justin, gather him into his arms and missed him by inches. He overcompensated, twirled around and fell on his ass.

"Oh, God what if it doesn't work?" Will this night ever end? What am I going to do?! Brian, what are you doing on the floor?"

"Fuck if I know," answered Brian. He got up. "Look, Justin, we'll go first thing in the morning, OK?"

"First thing!? You promise!?"

"I promise! I will promise that and anything more if you will just get in the fucking bed!"

"Oh, that's no use. I can't sleep."

"Well that's OK, I know the perfect sleep remedy!" Brian strode over and grabbed Justin and lifted him up off the floor in a cradling position. He kissed Justin deeply, madly, passionately.

"You - you do?" Justin asked, his undivided attention caught at last.

"Yes!" Brian carried him over to the bed and threw him down. He jumped in after him. He raised Justin's legs up in the air by the ankles. "A hot beef injection!"

And whadda-y'know? That really DID do the trick!

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Michael was dreaming.

It had to be a dream because in it he was entwined in the limbs of a solid, muscular, warm man and that man was entwined with his. As if they were one entity, they were joined, legs wrapped around each other, pressed groin to groin, chest to chest, arms entwined, his head on the man's hard shoulder.

The shoulder was so hard, so real. Michael ran a hand down that huge arm, feeling a pleasing bump of a bicep. He shifted, rested his head on a huge, solid pec.

Wait! That bicep was real! That chest was real. Michael jerked awake. Somehow in their sleep, Ben and Michael had shifted, found each other, and grabbed hold. Michael slowly opened his eyes.

Ben was back. He was in full, living color and he was solid, warm and real. He was hard. (In more ways than one) Michael noted in satisfaction. But more importantly his FADES was gone. Really and truly gone. He was solid and hard...and...and...and everything! He was back. He was cured!

"Ben! Ben! Wake up! Wake up!"

Ben's eyes fluttered. He stretched and awoke. He looked at Michael. "Geez Michael, what the hell happened?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"It's a long story. There was a wolf. He bit me in the arm. But Ben...look at yourself! Look! Look! Oh, I wanted to tell you last night but I never got the chance. Ben, look! You're solid...you're whole again! You're cured!"

"Why, so I am! That's fantastic! I'm so happy about that! But Michael..." he said, still staring at Michael strangely. "I think you should have a look at yourself too."

"What do you mean, Ben?" Michael asked. "What's wrong?"

MBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBMBM

A few hours later, at 9:00 AM, Justin was standing outside the gates to the forest cottage. He was fidgeting in nervousness and anxiety as the gate was being unlocked for its final time.

The instant it was, he shoved it open all the way and ran full speed down the path. Brian and a retinue of guards followed at a more sedate pace. He had dressed for the occasion in a white shirt with poofy sleeves and a tie up front, black skintight leggings made from fine silk, and thigh high leather boots.

Justin was too excited for all that. He had dressed quickly in a casual but nice blue suit with a cream colored tie.

He ran full tilt down the path to the cottage. "Brother Michael! Sir Ben! Are you there? Are you well? Michael, are you there!? I've come to take you home!"

The door to the cottage opened almost at once and Sir Ben stepped out. Justin gasped.

Ben was whole and solid as ever. It had worked. He was cured.

"Good morning, King Justin. As you can see, I'm quite well."

"That's fantastic, Ben. So, Michael has explained to you what we were trying to do?"

"Yes, Michael has explained everything to me. It's a wonderful surprise." Ben sounded glad but reserved.

Justin walked up to the porch. "Aren't you glad? Is anything wrong, Ben?"

Ben held up a hand. "Wait, King Justin. There is something you should know before you come in."

"No Ben," came a voice from within, "We might as well get it over quickly." Michael came out onto the porch and stood beside Ben.

Justin's eyes widened and he gasped again. Michael was transparent. He had FADES.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Michael walked Justin out to the back yard and showed him the trail of blood. They followed it to the edge of the yard

"I'm so sorry, Michael. I should have come for you! I had premonitions all night that something was wrong."

"No Justin. Don't blame yourself. I'd been wanting a night...a whole night with Ben since I got here. No one could have known what was going to happen on the last night." Without thinking, Michael reached for Justin's hand and again it passed right through.

"Dammit! I keep forgetting. I've pictured walking with you like this a thousand times since your letter, and now that I am, I can't even hold your hand."

"The time will come, Michael. Remember, you know the cure now. Is this where it...went?"

"Yes. Follow the trail and I suppose you will find it. I shouldn't wonder if these infected wolves are the ones who started the disease in the first place."

"Perhaps you are right, Michael. Time will tell."

He summoned a few guards. "Follow this trail and kill the wolf at the end of it. It's infected with FADES so don't let it bite you. It must be culled."

"Yes, Sire!" They ran off into the forest.

"But Justin! This is only one. Who knows how many wolves are in this forest? I assume that one slipped through the fence when it was transparent. At least, I hope it did. This has been nagging me since day one. You didn't intentionally shut me up in here with a few wolves, did you?"

"No, of course not, Michael! I'd never do something like that to anybody."

"I didn't think so," smiled Michael. But I could always hear them. "There may be a whole pack. What if they all have FADES?"

"We'll cordon off the forest and hunt through it. We'll get them all, don't worry."

"Will that be possible? I remember the day I was brought here. It seemed to take so....so long."

Justin looked uncomfortable

"Justin? What is it?"

"Well, Michael I have something to confess. The forest isn't... isn't really...that big. I just had them drive you around a lot blindfolded."

"I wondered what that was for! My God, that means...I could've..."

"No, Michael," Justin said sternly, ""You couldn't have. It's still very big. You would have gotten hopelessly lost...even fatally so. But let's just say, you'll find the trip home...a lot shorter."

They walked back to the cottage. " I see. So...you still want to take me out of here...even though I'm sick?"

"Yes! Oh, yes, Michael! I wanted you here because you were healthy! It would serve no purpose to have you here alone...like this. You'll come out of here with us as soon as the guards get back. You'll want to stay with Ben, of course."

"Of course."

"And in four months, you'll be as healthy as you once were. I meant what I said in my letter, Michael. You'll never have to be alone again."

"Oh...Oh, that sounds...so good, Justin!"

The guards soon came back. They reported that the wolf was dead when they found him.

They all went back into the cottage. Justin had a few guards carry out Michael's typewriter and extra paper etc.

"What about my clothes?" Michael asked.

"Go on up to your room. You'll find a small bag packed. Otherwise everything in the wardrobe will be transferred to Ben's castle.

Michael went on up and found suitcase and the wardrobe empty, just as Justin had predicted.

He came back down. "You're right. But I'll need someone to carry the bag now."

"I'll get it." Ben said and trotted up the stairs.

"Anything else from this place, you'd like to keep?"

"If I had one wish, I'd keep the bearskin rug."

It vanished.

"I wish I had discovered more about this cottage, when I had been staying here. How much of it is enchanted anyway?"

"Nearly all of it. I'd hoped you'd discover it on your own. You didn't think I'd leave you here unloved and unprotected, did you?"

"Michael smiled shyly. "Well...not after your letter I didn't. So where did the rug go, anyway?"

Justin smiled. "It'll be at Ben's when you get home." He picked up the tablecloth. "There! I believe that's everything."

"Wait! What do you need that for?"

"Why, Michael! Who do you think left it here for you in the first place?" Justin asked, smiling at him cheekily. "Now let's get outta here."

So they did. At the gate, Justin had another surprise for Michael. His very own car to drive home in. It was a golden Miata.

"May I drive you home, my love?" Ben asked.

"Oh yes. Please." Michael replied.

Ben threw his bag into the trunk, opened the door for Michael and then jumped into the driver's seat.

"See you back at the castle!" Ben yelled, gunning the motor. Brian and Justin laughed as gravel sprayed and the little car peeled away with a squeal.

BJMBBJMBBJMBBJMBBJMB

The next evening...

 

The four of them were at the castle, enjoying a nice port or wine and fine chocolates in Brian's very favorite study after dinner. Ben had port. Michael didn't have anything as it went right through him. Justin had a nice white wine and of course, Brian had Jim Beam.

"That was a wonderful dinner, Justin and Brian," Michael said, "Thank you. Do you think they'll accept it?"

"It may take some time," Justin said, "But they couldn't deny living proof. And once more and more people start their treatment and get healed, the more people will start hooking up. Eventually, I'm looking at a fully FADES free Loft. At long last we'll be free of my stepfather's evil legacy."

"Yes," Michael said sadly. Evil or not, he still missed his father and brother. "Justin...If Ethan had found love at one of the Balls...or repented the way I did, would you have spared him too?"

"I would have given him the same chance as you, in the better prison, to see. But don't worry Michael, they're really not that bad off. Although they don't notice it, they are fed well, and they'll never be homeless. Their only real punishment is doing the chores that I used to do. If you want, I can take you to see them, during a break. They won't see you, but at least you'll know they're all right."

"I'd like that. Thank you, Justin."

"You're welcome."

There was a comfortable silence as they enjoyed their wines and Brian copped a feel.

Justin slapped his hand away but not seriously, "Brian...we have guests!"

"No, Brian has the right idea, Ben said, running his hand up and down through Michael's palm intimately. Michael shuddered in pleasure. Even now, even though that he was Faded, Ben knew just what to do to him to drive him crazy.

Ben looked deep into Michael's eyes. "In fact, there's no one is this kingdom I'd want or trust to treat you for your FADES...except me. Let me heal you, the way you healed me."

"Of course, Ben," Michael replied.

"Well then..." Ben took a deep breath, "Would you marry me? Preferably...this Wednesday?" He produced a ring. It was gold and encrusted with tiny diamonds all the way around the band.

"Oh, Ben! Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! I've been waiting for you to ask for ages. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't - well, I didn't think you'd want to...when I was...when I was...when there was..."

"No hope? Oh, Ben...I would have loved any time we would have had together. Don't you get it, you big lug? I love you. You're stuck with me."

"And now you two will have all the time in the world," Brian said. He slowly unlaced the top of his shirt. You could now see a suggestive amount of pec. He was wearing another white, lace up the front, poofy sleeves number that drove Justin wild and he could tell by the way Sunshine's breath hitched it was having the desired effect. He flexed a pec. He moved in for a sweet, long kiss. And Justin let him since it was apparent that Ben and Mikey were busy doing the same on the opposite brown leather couch.

When they came back up for air, Justin felt a bit fogged. He took a deep breath and tried desperately to get the thread of polite conversation back on track despite his husband's erotic attempts to derail it.

"So, Mikey, how did you like your comic?"

"It was fantastic! That was a wonderful surprise Justin. I'd never thought I'd ever see it outside of my imagination. And you did such a good job! It seems you found your hobby as well!"

"Do you ever get the feeling we're just eye candy to the two of them?" Ben asked Brian over their heads.

"Yes, I love drawing!" Justin enthused, ignoring, them both completely, "I thought I'd leave out the ink and painting till you got home and had a chance to collaborate."

"Frequently," Brian answered Ben drily.

"I must admit I always envisioned Ben as Rage. But I understand why you made him Brian. It worked out wonderfully."

"What do you do about it?" asked Ben.

"Oh, usually, something like this!" Brian answered, reaching up Justin's shirt in a lightning move. The tweaked his nipples mercilessly. At the same time, he moved in with a super duper killer kiss.

Ben followed suit with his own beta turning Michael into a helpless mess of desire.

Justin was in an absolute haze of pleasure. But he finally pulled away and said, "Shame on you! You, Sir, are supposed to be charming!"

"And we are supposed to live happily ever after!" returned Brian, "Which in my book, means kissing you as much as possible and non-stop fucking!"

"MMMMMM!!" Justin dreamed in anticipation. He lifted his face to Brian's for another kiss. "Well...Time will tell."

 

THE END

 

A/N: Well, there we go. Done at last. Sorry about the weird quickie ending but after the exodus from the cottage I couldn't think of anything else and all the loose ends just sort of tied themselves up in neat bows and Boom! It was done. I'm planning a short epilogue, if that helps. Please review chapter and story in general. Cheers AND Jeers are welcome.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Disclaimer: This is fanfic any and all references to Queer as Folk and its characters are for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

Epilogue

One year later...

 

Justin leaned back against the bar in peace and contentment. He looked out over the ballroom with the confident, proud air of one who has planned and accomplished something well and knows it.

It was their anniversary Ball. Brian had put him practically completely in charge of designing and organizing it. And Justin had risen to the challenge and done a damn good job of it, if he did say so himself.

Justin considered a country and western theme, then a denim theme but thought this might be a bit constricting to people's imaginations (and groin area) so he settled on blue. It was, of course, called The Blue Ball. To get in, you had to be wearing something, anything of blue. Of course, denim abounded. But there were also peacock feathers, spandex, formal ball gowns, all in different shades of blue. Denim skirts and cut-offs. Mmmmm - so many muscles and cut-offs... Denim vests. One brave soul came in nothing but blue runners, blue spandex shorts, a blue bike helmet and blue tinted sunglasses. The ballroom was decorated with dozens and dozens of bunches of blue balloons. There was blue crepe paper, blue strobes, and intimate areas lit only by long, stacked horizontal bars of glowing blue light.

When Justin had approached Brian and asked if he could invite his fairy godmother, Brian pulled a blank face.

"What? Are you telling me we live in a land full of sprites and fairies?"

When Justin hastened to explain, Brian burst out laughing. "Oh, Sunshine! I remember you telling me about her. I'll be glad to meet her and anyone else she wants to bring along. I told you. It's your show! Do as you like!"

And so, the very first magical/mortal creatures mixed dance was born. Justin got in touch with Debbie who spread the word among the rest of the magical community that any friendly magical creature was invited to attend.

Justin looked up toward the ceiling where a number of sprites, fairies, genies, and pixies had set up their own community. Occasionally, a mortal would catch one of their eyes and be invited up for a dance with the help of a sprinkling of fairy dust. Justin waved to Debbie and Emmett. You two having a good time!?" he yelled. "Is everybody having a good time up there?" There was an appreciative yell.

Debbie's hair looked like a white frizzy cotton ball. She wore blue tinted heart shaped sunglasses and her lipstick was wet and icy blue for the occasion. She wore a two toned, blue furry muumuu with white edging. "Everything's Ab Fab, darling!" she yelled.

Emmett had got another promotion. He was now class five and he was in uniform, blue of course, with short shorts and short sleeves and half top that exposed his midriff. He wore tight blue boots. As a level five, his wings were wider and elaborate and a translucent blue. He danced in the air with a muscular genie dressed in blue silken slippers, a blue turban, and seven silken veils worn in strategic locations. And nothing else. When they had arrived, Justin had arched an eyebrow and given him a look. Emmett shrugged and said, "Well, if you can't beat ‘em, join ‘em. And I was beatin' Em wayyy too much and besides...they really are oversexed, if you catch my meaning!"

Now, he happily sipped his cosmo (tinted blue for the occasion) and waved. "Just super duper sweetums!"

Justin himself had dressed western style. He wore tan cowboy boots polished to a high gloss. He wore tight, blue jeans and a blue denim shirt with silver snaps and a black leather bolo tie with a silver cow skull on the end of it. A white cowboy hat completed his outfit. He sipped a blue beer as he waited and contemplated the last year in happiness.

FADES had been eradicated from the land. Emmett's "rumourous" cure had been a complete success. As Justin had predicted it took a while to catch on but results didn't lie. Matchmaking and BFF (Beat FADES Forever) parties became all the rage to hook people up with healthy counterparts. Weddings, both gay and straight began to spike through the roof. The Loft became a happy and enchanted place to live once again.

The forest was combed through from one end to the other and then back again. Many FADES infected wolves were found and culled but there were a lot that weren't infected as well and left alone. Still, it was unknown if they had gotten all of them, so warning signs were posted at all entrances to the forest, warning to avoid wolves at all cost.

Justin saw Michael and Ben dance by. He waved and shouted a greeting. They waved back but soon became too wrapped up in each other to care much about Justin or anyone else for more than a few moments at a time. They were each other's world. Mike and Ben had decided on a superhero theme of course, and were dressed in blue superhero costumes complete with full blue silk capes. Michael was right, Justin thought, Ben looked good as a superhero. Very good. Justin sipped his beer and waited.

Michael and Ben had been married that following Wednesday, just as they'd planned. And thanks to Ben's weekly "hot beef injections" Michael was, of course, completely healed four months later.

Justin and Michael had begun collaborating with each other on the comic almost right away. Ink and painting had begun shortly after that. They gave a few copies away as a test. The comic was an immediate and wild success. It dealt with many issues, homophobia, infidelity, rape, gay/straight tolerance and others. But through it all there was also a good strong dose throughout of fucking and gay sex. When they began to charge (an extraordinarily small fee) the sales went through the roof and both Justin and Michael found themselves in possession of more money they knew what to do with. Together, they had founded an official BFF Foundation to help the FADES infected find appropriate mates for free.

As promised, Justin had arranged for Craig and Ethan to receive a two hour break in the servant's courtyard. During this time, he brought Michael to a window a story above them to watch them and see that they were OK. Craig and Ethan both had shifty eyes and quick, shifty movements as if they expected their treat to be taken away at any time. But they were well fed and even in good shape due to their constant physical labor.

Justin stayed well to one side of the window. He had no desire to even look upon them. He told Michael: "There they are. After this do not ask to see them again. Think of them as lost...or even dead. This is their punishment for the rest of their lives. Remember that I saved them from death and hard labor in a fierce prison and leave it at that. They are unchanged, Michael. They did not have the chance to evolve like you did, so they are the still pitiless, uncaring people who entered their prison."

"But will they never get the chance to change? Never get to develop caring, the way that I did? Can they even do so, if they are treated as prisoners, day in and day out?"

"It was the first time Michael heard Justin speak in such a hard, pitiless voice. "Your father helped further the disease that you, yourself, are afflicted with, the disease that killed my mother...and many others to boot. Ethan nearly killed me with a blunt object. For these crimes, my sentence stands Michael. There are many ways in everyone's life, small and great that they can commit caring acts. They never do. So, like I said on their day of judgement, I'm done with them. Do not ask me again. Enjoy your visit." He walked off and left Michael alone with his family, tears running down his cheeks as he watched them through the glass for the full 2 hours.

Now, back at the Blue Ball, Justin wondered if he had been too hard on Michael. He still wanted to see his stepfather and Ethan punished but not if it was going to punish Michael as well. He had come to truly love his elder stepbrother. He decided that he would let Michael see his family every three months and even let him come up with tests that would test their morality. If they did have the chance, and passed enough tests, well then maybe...well, they'd cross that bridge when they got to it. If not, well, Michael would eventually give up and leave them to their fate. He'd tell Mikey of his decision after the Ball. He sipped his blue beer and waited.

The reward of cash and a dukedom was lost on Justin as he was now king. Therefore, for their hardships and being the first people to be cured of FADES, Justin and Brian passed the money and title onto Michael and Ben. Michael took the title but it was so new and strange that he soon forgot about it and let Ben worry about it all. As for his share of the money, he gave half of it to the BFF and the other half he secretly was giving in instalments to his brother and father's jailers to provide in some small way, treats and gifts and small comforts they otherwise would not have.

A large denim clad cowboy walked up to the bar next to Justin. He wore shiny black leather boots and his jeans fit him like a second skin. He wore a shirt similar to Justin's. His black cowboy hat was pulled low over his face.

"Howdy, pardner," he greeted Justin.

"Howdy, stranger," Justin replied, "What can I do you for?"

"You can up and dance the two step with me," returned the cowboy.

"Sorry. I'm waitin' for my husband," said Justin.

"Your husband's a powerful lucky man. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you having just once dance with a cowpoke like me."

"Do you know who I am?" Justin asked haughtily.

"Shore nuff. Yore King Justin."

"Then you know I could have you thrown in the dungeon for such talk."

"I'd risk it for a taste of those sweet lips," said the insolent cowboy with the dangerous dark hat.

"My husband would thrash you if he heard you a talkin' that way."

"I think he'd find that powerful hard to do."

"And why's that? Who are you anyway?" Justin reached up and pulled up the man's hat. He gasped. The cowboy leered. He snaked a hand around Justin's smaller waist and pulled him flush against his big chest. At the same time he pulled on Justin's shirt and ripped the silver snaps open, exposing his smooth white chest.

"I'm your husband," Brian said and mashed their lips together.

Many two steps later...

Brian and Justin held each other on the middle of the dance floor. They swayed slowly back and forth and ground their cocks together. Their shirts had long ago been unsnapped and untucked.

"Let's go to the back room," said Brian, "We'll fuck like two shepherds on a forested mountaintop."

"I'm loud and proud but I promised my mother I'd also be pious and good. Tell me you love me, and I'll go with you."

Brian smiled. "You make me so happy. I loved you a year ago so much, my heart felt full to the brim. Now, a year later, I love you so much more that...that...I can't explain it."

"Like it's like your heart grew in your chest and is overflowing, pressing against your chest?"

"Why yes! That's a good way to put it! How did you know?"

"That's how I felt a year ago."

""Oh. Sorry it took me so long to catch up."

"Who said you've caught up? But you love me. And so I'll go with you, husband."

They made their way to the back room.

"Justin? Are we living happily ever after?"

"So far. Ask me again at the Ball we have next year."

 

And so he did. And so doing, year by year, they lived happily ever after.