Chapter 9

The Offer

6 AM…

Beep! Beep! Beep!......Beep! Beep! Beep!......Beep! Beep! Beep!.....

Brian opened his eyes. He felt instantly alert and rested, unlike last time when….

He reached over and silenced the offending phone, which had once again had been placed within easy reach. Then he fell back, in that strange place where you have just woken but can’t quite remember how you got there.

Sonofabitch!!! Brian jackknifed up, remembering everything. That little elfin bastard! He had done something to him! He had…had hypnotized(?) him. Martial art whammied? Something!! Brian couldn’t figure it out.

And then his breath caught in his throat. Surrounding the sides and end of his bed were 8 canvases all filled with colorful, breathtaking art. Each pair of shoes was laid out neatly underneath its own posterboard and the ideas were really good.

A knot of tension that Brian didn’t even know was there, untied itself and floated away. He gave a sigh of relief. For the first time he could see a light, a way out of this hole that Vance had put him in, hoping he’d be dead and buried forever.

Brian smiled ferally. He couldn’t wait for his Resurrection Party.

As usual, there was no blond boy elf ass in his bed. Justin had vanished with the Sunshine that bore his nickname.

There was a note on one of the easels. Brian opened it up.

It was an IOU for the same amount as last time plus $200. Since Brian had brought two more posterboards home, he found this acceptable.

Underneath was written: Please pay in full. If you do, your breakfast plus tip will be comped.

Brian burst out laughing. That cheeky little elf!

He jumped out of bed and strode to the closet. He wondered if he had a “teach a cheeky elf a lesson” outfit….

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

At the Diner….

The eggs fried, the bacon and sausage sizzled, Debbie yelled and swore. All usual sounds.

The door banged, the bell tinkled, just as usual.

And as usual, all eyes turned to see who walked in. Usually, they’d see the hottie (or not-so-hottie) and turn back to their breakfasts in peace.

But this time, the diner was shocked into a few minutes of total silence. Debbie was speechless. (and Debbie was never speechless!) What sounds there were, were small strangling noises of astonishment and lust. The frying bacon was now clearly audible. Emmett gasped dramatically and sucked in a piece of sausage. He began to choke.

Justin eyes were wide and impossibly blue as he viewed the spectacle. Then they clouded in annoyance. He snatched a glass of water from out of thin air and grabbed Emmett from around the back and gave him the Heimlich maneuver in a tired, almost casual way, as if he had been waiting all day for it to happen even though he’d only been on duty for an hour.

In due time, Emmett spit up the sausage. It flew across the Diner and landed on the floor 3 booths away. Emmett began to lose the most unattractive blue color it had become and resumed its healthy pink glow.

“Dammit Brian! What the hell are you doing? Don’t you see you nearly killed Emmett!?” Justin concentrated on his annoyance to mask how turned on he was and unsuccessfully willed his boner to go down.

“I doubt he was in much danger with our little…superhero…in the diner,” replied Brian in full asshole mode, “Besides, I didn’t do anything that the cholesterol in that piece of pig meat he’s eating will do to him anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you Brian,” Emmett croaked as he drank some water and then grabbed Justin in a non-threatening buddy hug, “Thanks baby!” he said in quite a different tone. His eyes narrowed at Brian as he hugged Justin. He knew what he was doing. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Brian sucked in a deep breath through his nose and breathed out between his teeth. It made a terrible noise. He deliberately stepped over the piece of sausage to sit at the counter.

“Watch yourself, Honeycutt,” he growled.

Emmett stuck out his tongue, let his hand wander and pat Justin’s tight denim-ey ass and then took a big bite of sausage.

Brian was dressed in full leather, chaps over his slacks, leather shirt, black, leather tie, leather vest, tight, form fitting leather gloves, leather jacket and Muir cap. On his feet were black, tall, leather boots. He sat on the stool with his back to the counter.

He snapped his fingers twice. “Waiter! Oh waiter! I need…service!” The last word was full of innuendo.

Justin was across the diner, noisily bussing tables, clinking the dishes and clanking the silverware loudly. He flipped Brian the bird. “I’m busy!” he said defiantly.

“Boy! Come here! Now!” Brian’s voice projected loudly and carried a serious and deadly authority.

Justin’s head whipped up and met his gaze and that’s where the battle was lost and over. Brian held his gaze unwaveringly and hypnotized him from across the room. Justin stared and the world fell away and found he couldn’t look away.

Brian crooked a leathery finger. “Come here. Now, boy!”

Against his will, Justin felt himself walk over to the leatherman as irresistibly as if a lasso had wrapped itself around him and reeled him in.

He stood before Brian. Brian continued to stare at him, boring into his very soul. “Yes Sir. What do you wish?” he heard himself say submissively.

“I told you. I desire….service. I’ll have the all whites omelette with hash browns and brown toast. Coffee. Black.”

“Yes Sir.” Justin still couldn’t look away. “May I suggest some green and red pepper in the omelette for flavor?”

“You may. Make it so.”

“Yes Sir.” Justin wrote all this busily on his pad and turned to leave.

Brian almost let him escape. At the last second he caught hold of his creamy white wrist with his coal black leathery hand.

“Not so fast, Boy!” he intoned.

“What is it?” Justin asked annoyedly, “I thought that was your order.”

“It was indeed. But I told you…I require…service. And you will not fight me boy!”

“And what service could you possibly desire. That’s legal,” he added meaningfully.

“Just this…” And with that, Brian grabbed his ass with one hand and the back of his neck with the other and bent him back and smashed their lips together. There was no romance about the kiss this time. He plundered Justin’s coral lips, his teeth and tongue, a taking, a ravishing, a raping of Justin’s mouth. At the same time he kneaded Justin’s ass proprietarily, his eyes shifting to meet Emmett’s briefly. Then they closed to enjoy the kiss and the spectacle.

Justin groaned, grabbed Brian’s shoulders and hung on for dear life. He’d only admit it under pain of torture but the leather hand kneading his ass felt sexy as hell and like heaven on Earth.

Finally, Brian released him and set him upright. “Such a good Boy. And such a good boy deserves a present. Reach into my pocket.”

“Yes, I’m sure there a gu – hmmm maybe not…let’s say…a pickle in there for me. But I‘m on duty.” He reminded Brian needlessly.

“My jacket pocket,” Brian amended.

Justin reached into them and shakily pulled out a leather collar with studs on it.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Later…

Brian walked into the conference room, still in his full leathers.

“Jesus!!” Cynthia yelled.

“No, Cynthia, It’s just me, Brian. But I can see how you’d make that mistake,” Brian quipped.

“Asshole…” she muttered.

“The rest of you must be wondering about my appearance as well. You may be shocked, startled….maybe even a little turned on? No? Well maybe you should be. Because this is, as a large part who your target customer is going to be. Recognize these boots? Well, you should.” He stamped a big boot into an empty chair to display it. “You’re the ones who gave them to me.”

There were thick swallows and “ahems” and wide eyes from the bootmaker reps sitting with Cynthia in their suits and ties. Brian smiled ferally. They had thought this was going to be another ordinary, boring conference meeting. They needed to think again.

He walked to the front of room with his audience in the corner of his eye. A few disapproved strongly, steely eyed looks, pursed lips. All were well over 50. Huge surprise there. A few were amused or at least entertained by his antics. And there was one, a young 20 something (the son…((grandson?)) of the clan?) who followed his every move with wide eyes and Brian knew when this was all over they’d be fucking in the washroom.

The young man watched with wide, blue eyes. Brian never faltered in his speech but somewhere he sighed.

Make that a handjob.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Earlier….

Justin looked at the collar and the studs.

“Geez, Brian these aren’t…these aren’t…” He couldn’t say it.

“Whoa, Sunshine, let’s not go crazy here. I’m not that rich…yet. They’re cubic zirconium. But if anyone asks…well, they don’t have to know.” He winked.

“But…but why…”he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Someone told me recently to make sure I keep you around….even if I have to put a ring on your finger.”

The silence in the diner was total. Eyes were round, mouths were open everywhere as if to receive a fat cock. Even the young fry cook came to the order window to see what had happened. A fork hit the floor somewhere but no one retrieved it and it made a loud sound.

Brian ignored everything and everyone. “Anyway, I like my idea much better. Its still a ring…around you…is it not?”

Justin gulped. “I – I guess so.”

Brian gave a feral, throaty, growly, evil chuckle. He grabbed the collar and placed it around Justin’s neck and then slowly buckled it on just the right amount. “You know what this collar means, don’t you boy?”

“Uhhh…no, not really…” Justin answered shakily.

“It means you’re mine. I’m keeping you. No more hypno tricks at home. No more skulking off into the night after work. And if anyone wants to mess with you…they’ll mess with me. Got it?”

“Got it.” Justin said.

“Good. You know, I seem to remember a really thorough little shoe polisher a while back. I’m going into presentation and these boots are a mess.” (They were a high gloss.) “Get down there boy! Lick ‘em clean!”

“Brian, you can’t mean that! I’m—…”

“That didn’t stop you last time,” Brian pointed out.

“That was a joke. I was in a certain mood. It won’t be the same…if you make me. Please.”

Maybe it was the wide, imploring, blue eyes, or maybe it was him saying “please” like that, but in either case Brian relented.

“Oh fine. Go get me my breakfast boy! And don’t forget the peppers!” He gave his ass a swat to get him moving.

Justin gave him a million watt smile. “Oh yes! Yes Sir!” he said, still in character.

Brian sat there, facing the diner, in full Dom and asshole mode. He put his elbows on the counter and just watched the activity or lack thereof. Finally, Deb gave herself a shake and got back to work. There were hungry fags to feed, asshole or no asshole.

And gradually, slowly at first, as if a clock had been wound up, mouths closed, motion started, everyone turned back to their own conversations and breakfasts. The hum of conversation and life returned to the room. And Brian sat over it all, like a king on his throne, presiding over all. He was aware of every lustful look, every innuendo, and every hushed whisper that was about him, Brian Kinney, the Dom, the most fabulous fag in all the land, who apparently had decided to leap into the leather scene and bag himself a Boy.

Mikey was sitting with Emmett, Ted, Lindsay, and Melanie in their customary booth. He looked like he was going to explode. His eyes were narrowed in jealousy and he was squirming like his seat was on fire. He opened his mouth to speak…

“Got something to say, Mikey!!?” Brian projected loudly, looking straight into the other man’s eyes.

Mikey’s troubled eyes looked straight into Brian’s defiant ones that challenged him to butt into more of his business. Then they dropped downward to stare into his half eaten eggs and hashbrowns.

“No Brian.” He said softly.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Later…

One boring meeting and one wild, leathery, makeout and handjob in the bathroom later, Brian was assured that he had the bootmaker’s business. The son also slipped him his phone number and the card of another contact since he knew his grandfather would never do it.

He had begged Brian to fuck him but thanks to his own blue eyes, that was not to be. Brian had refused. At first, the young man had thought it was part of the game and dropped to his knees and begged shamelessly. But Brian had lifted him up and whispered: Safe word…since they didn’t have one. Then the young man stilled and realized Brian was deadly serious when he whispered that nothing was going to happen except the best handjob of his life. And so the young man, who was a closeted gay and was stuck around a bunch of hetero old codgers all day, relented.

Afterwards, Brian went into his office, went into the small washroom there, stripped, showered, and dressed in the suit he kept hung up on the inside of the door for just such occasions. Then he walked, neat as a pin, into his next meeting, right on the stroke of right on time.

“Jesus!” Cynthia yelled again, her hand over her heart.

“No, Cynthia, it’s me…Brian. But I can see how you’d make that mistake,” Brian smirked.

“Asshole…” she muttered.

Brian brought out Justin’s canvas for this meeting and the corresponding shoes and the meeting for the second shoe company began. And they loved him and the art and the pitch and they were sold yet again. And at the end of the meeting, Brian received yet another contact, this one a struggling, middle end haberdasher that sold clothes, hats, and (you guessed it) shoes.

This went on all day. Fortunately, he stayed in his suit so there were no more outbursts involving Our Lord. And with each and every meeting, eight in all, he received at least one contact, and a few gave him two or three. And by the end of the day, he had a total of 22 clients, all clothing and shoemakers.

In the privacy of his office, Brian hung up on his last contact number after bringing them into the fold. All thanks to a blond, blue-eyed elf. He would ask him again but if he refused him again, Brian knew it was time to hire in a full time artist, maybe two. And he could afford it now.

He smiled ferally, looking at the phone. He was imagining phoning Vance to personally invite him to a bogus meeting. In reality, it would be to his Resurrection Party.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Earlier…

Justin brought out his breakfast, with a permanent million watt smile on his face. He knew Brian had not said the important words, maybe he never would. They were fags after all, and not commitment seeking lesbians.

But he also knew this was a huge step for Brian. And if it wasn’t for that twist of fate, that casual turning and seeing the canvas on his first time, they might never have gotten here. Hell, he may never have seen Brian again, just been another notch in his bedpost. And that would have broken his heart.

However, as it was, he had seen Brian again, and moreover, Brian wanted to keep him. He wanted him. Well, quite probably, he needed him too. But that made no never mind to Justin. For he knew the secret. Like most comedians, soap operas and Scheherazade of old, the teller of the Arabian Nights fairy tales, he too knew the secret.

The omelette had just the right amount of green, yellow and red peppers. The coffee was hot and black and the toast was perfectly toasted and unbuttered. Brian was pleased.

But Justin gave a secret smile. Pleasing your man was not the secret.

Brian ate till he was satisfied (well, as satisfied as an all whites omelette could satisfy) and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. He summoned his Boy to his side once again.

“Yes Sir?” Justin said with just the right inflection.

“Thanks to your help, my business will grow once again. If all goes well, I’ll have the means to hire on an artist full time. So no more beating around the bush. Even you cannot design and finish all the work that will come in, in one evening. And at this point, you don’t need to. So…come work for me at Kinnetic….or I’ll have to hire someone else… maybe two.

Justin’s million watt smile dimmed considerably.

“Oh Brian, there’s nothing I’d like more…but…well art is still nothing more than a hobby for me. I have no formal training. You have heard how my father kicked me out. I went into the army. That is my education. I would have loved to go to PIFA or perhaps somewhere in New York but it never happened. You could hire me on, I guess, but I have no diplomas or qualifications to back up such a job. And no financial hope to get the training either. My father drained my college fund and added it to Molly’s. She’s my sister.”

“The way I picture your father, I’m surprised she’s not the family cat. I’m aware of your background Boy. We’ll work around it. Come to my office around 4 and we’ll hammer out the details…in private, hmmm?”

“Ummm…OK.” Justin was flummoxed. What had just happened?

“Good Boy. Now, say your goodbyes to Debbie as this will likely be your last shift slinging hash. And then…”

“Hey! We here at the Liberty Diner do not “sling hash”!” Debbie yelled indignantly. She consulted her pad. “Now…who had pink plate specials with extra hash browns?”

Two men at the counter raised their hands.

With deadly accuracy, Deb slung the two plate piled high with hash browns down the counter. They slid past Brian and stopped exactly in front of the two patrons.

Brian looked at her pointedly.

“Ohhhh…..I don’t wanna hear a word from you mister! Anyway, that’s not alllll we do here! And wipe that look off your face!” She flounced off into the back.

“Are you at last ready for me to take you away from all this?” asked Brian.

“Yes. Yes, if you can. If you still want to.”

“Oh, my little elf. I’d probably be arrested if I recounted all the things I…want to do with that hot little ass!” Brian hooked one finger through his collar and pulled him forward for another bruising, all consuming kiss. “I’ll see you at 4:00. Be prompt. Got it, Boy?”

“Ye -yes S – Sir!” Justin managed. He was trying to figure out which way was up.

Brian laughed and then abruptly released him. Without another word, he got up and walked out, leaving Justin’s arms feeling empty and his soul bereft. In full Dom mode, he strode arrogantly out and in a few moments he was gone as suddenly as he appeared. And when he did leave, he left a vacuum and a void as black as his leathers.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Later…4 PM…

Someone nervously cleared their throat.

Cynthia looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The eyes were attached to a gorgeous young face of 18 that made Cynthia feel ancient and atop that was a thick mop of buttery yellow hair, carefully combed.

“Jesus!” Cynthia gasped as she put her hand over her heart and because she felt like she was staring into the face of an angel. The angel wore a blue sweater and a black collar with diamond studs.

“Ummm…no…it’s Justin actually,” the young man said, genuinely shy. “Is Brian…I mean is Mr. Kinney here? This is Kinnetic, right?”

“Cynthia glanced behind her where KINNETIC was spelled out on the wall in bronzed letters.

“Yeah. I think that’s a safe assumption,” she said.

“Oh, right. Well, I’m his 4 o clock.”

Cynthia decided to let him off the hook. She smiled. “Yes Justin, I know you are. He’s been impatiently waiting. Just go on down that hallway and it’s the first door on the right.”

“Oh…OK…Thanks.”

Justin made his way down but before he was even a quarter of the way there, the first door on the right yanked open and Brian was coming out to greet him. He was enveloped in a crushing hug and the empty feeling that Justin’s arms had been feeling all day was at last filled.

“Justin! At last!”

“But I’m right on time!”

“Well, I’ve been waiting forever,” Brian leered.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Oh brother!”

Brian ignored that and led him down the hall with his hand on his shoulder. “So! How d’ya like the place?”

“It’s…nice…but..why is that room all made out of tiling? And were those…fixtures? Was this a shower room?”

“It was,” answered Brian.

But why would there be a shower room…wait was this a gym? No…that can’t be it…”

“Nope,” confirmed Brian.

“Wait…greeting area…anteroom…shower room….hallways…” Justin gauged the size of the offices and burst out, “Oh Brian! Did you build your offices out of an old bathhouse!?”

“Sure did!” bragged Brian, missing the point entirely.

Justin pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head as he allowed himself to be led into Brian’s offices which had to be eight rooms and a sling room with their walls and beds removed. Facing the hallway was a picture window over which were vertical blinds. A door led off to one side which Justin assumed had been made into a small toilet. Brian’s desk was to one side and facing it were a few chairs and behind those and against the opposite walls was the biggest, blackest, most sinfully leather couch Justin had ever seen. And…in one corner, Brian had kept a remnant of the former business in the form of a big, black, leather sling.

“Very tasteful,” Justin said sarcastically, “Who was your decorator? The Marquis de Sade?”

“Mouthy little shit…Mouthy….” And then Brian’s mouth was upon his and they were crushed together, melded into one and for a long, long time there was no more talk, only primal pleasures, and incoherent thoughts, and raging boners.

Brian broke off only long enough to yank at Justin’s belt and jerk his pants down around his ankles. Justin made short work of his shirt and the unbuttoned Brian’s starchy shirt.

“Mmmmm….What did happen to those delectable leathers?” Justin asked.

“I had a few meetings that didn’t include them. I could…” Brian trailed off suggestively.

“Nahh. Maybe next time. I need you…now. I don’t want to wait.” And with that, Justin bent down submissively and took Brian into his mouth and deep throated him.

Brian threw his head back and let the pleasure coursing through him. It grew and grew and crashed in ever increasing waves until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He gripped Justin’s shoulders to let him know he was about to cum. Justin acknowledged with a squeeze to his leg and then looked up at Brian with his too-blue eyes that were Brian’s undoing. He refused to let go.

“Justin…I….fuck!!” he gasped out and came in a gush.

Justin swallowed every drop.

He stood, wiped the side of his mouth and licked the last drop of Brian’s cum and then kissed Brian hard so they were both able to taste him on his tongue.

B*J*B*J*B*J*B*J*

Afterwards, they both sat on the couch together with Justin up against his chest. But they weren’t cuddling. Brian Kinney didn’t do cuddling, Brian told himself as he lazily played with Justin’s sensitive nips.

“So, how exactly is this supposed to work?” Justin asked lazily.

“I’ll hire you on as one of the artists I need to hire anyway. I’ll pay you ridiculously well and you’ll keep a discreet eye on what the others are doing as secretly you’ll be head artist. At the end of the day, we’ll go home, you can have final say on everything, we’ll fuck, and go to sleep. Then we’ll do it all again. You’ll save, I’ll save and in a few years we’ll see what we have to send you to art school so you can start everything for real.”

“Brian….This is horribly wrong. I can’t be secretly in charge. I shouldn’t even be hired. You know I have no training or experience.”

“You have life experience. It’s quite obvious you know what you’re doing. If it wasn’t for your assho---uh..father…you’d be in school right now. And I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve saved my company. More than that, you’re making my company, right now. That’s better than any resume and that makes you better than anyone I could hire after you. So please let me do this. Let me do this for you. So your credentials will be switched around a bit. Someday, when you’re a famous artist painting landscapes on the bank of the Seine, who’ll care?”

“You’ve quite the imagination there, Mr. Kinney. I still don’t like it. However, you make a lot of sense and I can’t think of anything better, so we’ll try it your way. And what about…the personal aspect of our relationship?”

“What about it?”

“What if we break up? Wasn’t that long ago we already had one big blow out. What if it happens again? And it sounds suspiciously like you’re asking me to move in. Suppose that doesn’t work out. Would I be fired? Fired and homeless? Or something else?”

“Good grief, what else is there?”

Justin shrugged. “You’re right. I think that covers it. So…?”

“Well, you don’t have to move in. You just don’t have to…rush off. If it makes you feel better having your own place…for now, we can keep your place as well.”

“Well then…if that’s the case…then I will accept your very generous offer Mr. Kinney.”

Brian tucked his lips in and smiled.

TBC