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Author's Chapter Notes:

It's the day of the PC dinner party. Brian and Justin think they're prepared. We'll see. Read on and enjoy! TAG

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Chapter 15 - PC Preparations.


After the trying morning with the doctor, Brian thought it was best to simply keep Justin with him for the rest of the day. Fuck Vance and his directive to keep the PC out of the office. Besides, Cynthia had already said she would help them prepare for the PC dinner with Lapointe later that night, and since this whole mess had been instigated by Vance to start with, Brian thought the least he could do was deal with Justin in the office for one day.


Brian parked the boy on the couch as soon as they entered, placed a sketchpad and pencils on the table next to him in case he wanted to do anything, but didn’t give the kid any real work. Justin looked so fucking exhausted, that Brian hoped he would maybe take a nap instead. They were both going to need to be in tip top form that evening, so he should probably try and get some rest now if he could. However, if the kid was as nervous and wound up as Brian was, resting wouldn’t be very likely.


Cynthia strolled into the office less than five minutes after they arrived. Brian handed off the medical records he’d obtained from the Doctor’s office and instructed her to make several copies of the kid’s allergy list so he could have them on hand wherever needed. He also gave her the cryptic note about the psychologist and asked her to investigate further. If therapy could legitimately help the kid, Brian wanted to get him started on it as soon as possible.


The rest of the morning went by quietly. Justin actually did doze off for about an hour while Brian worked as noiselessly as possible on his computer. Thankfully, he didn’t have any appointments or meetings scheduled for that day, so he was able to just sit, plow through a ton of paperwork and use that as a distraction to keep his mind off everything else. That only worked for just so long, though.


Cynthia came in with lunch for all of them around one-thirty. The three of them ate while Brian and his assistant talked about nothing in particular. Justin seemed even more subdued than usual, which was saying a lot for a young man that never actually talked at all. By the time they finished up it was already after two. Cynthia seemed to think that meant it was time to start prepping for the coming dinner party debacle.


The ever-efficient assistant started off easy by running Brian through all the background information they had on Lapointe. Most of this they’d already been through the week before when they’d prepped for the auction. Cynthia had dug up a bit more over the intervening week, though, as well as a large quantity on Lapointe’s wife. Since they didn’t know who else was going to be at this soiree, that was the best Cynthia could do as far as the attendees. She did promise to be available for last minute assists all evening and instructed Brian to text her with the full guest list as soon as he could. That way she could at least give him a heads up on anything really important.


Next, they planned out some ‘safe’ topics of conversation that Brian could use if needed. They also talked about how to deal with any ‘unsafe’ topics that might come up. That part of the proceedings took a lot longer, because, as far as Brian was concerned there were a LOT of unsafe topics. Basically, pretty much anything dealing with PCs was going to be a hot button conversation for him and he wanted to be prepared in advance for how to deal with as many of these issues as possible. In a lot of ways, he felt like a litigant being prepared for court testimony or even a political candidate prepping for a debate. And he was grateful all over again that Cynthia was as thorough and knowledgeable as she was.


After wading through that morass for more than an hour, Brian decided he was as ready as he would ever be for whatever conversation he’d be subjected to, which prompted Cynthia to move on to the even trickier topic of PC etiquette. This was also the stage where, of necessity, Justin needed to be brought into the discussion. Brian got up from behind his desk and moved over so that he was sitting next to the boy on the couch, putting his arm around the hunched over shoulders, trying to provide whatever support he could while taking comfort himself in the solidity he found there.


“So, Justin, I assume you already know all this stuff, but I’m going to run through it anyway since Brian will need to know what’s going on as well,” Cynthia started out. “As for you, Brian, you should probably think of it as BDSM gone hardcore. I know you have some familiarity with that world, but you’ve never probably been exposed to anything like this, so it’s going to seem a little harsh.” Brian nodded, bowing to her greater knowledge. “To start with, you have to understand that Justin will need to act like your Sub and needs to be treated that way at all times. And while I know you don’t really want him to act like that in general, he’s going to have to at this dinner. If he acts any other way, he’s going to draw attention to himself, which we don’t want. And, conversely, you’re going to have act like his Dom.”


“I can do that. It’s not like it’s going to be a huge stretch. It’s not that much different than how the rest of the week has been,” Brian offered.


“Actually, it is a LOT different, Brian. You’re way too nice to Justin in your everyday life to pass muster with this set. I mean, just look at the way you’re sitting there right now,” Cynthia pointed to the two men where they were sitting together on the couch. “Just the way you’re holding Justin would be a major no-no with these people. You are not supposed to care about him or his feelings. You can’t show that you have ANY concern for him at all. Sorry to put this so bluntly, Justin - but, Brian, you’re going to have to treat him like just another piece of furniture. Don’t look at him, don’t speak to him, don’t even touch him more than necessary. Think you can do that?”


“Sure. I can do that. Whatever,” Brian asserted, although his tone betrayed the fact that it wasn’t going to be easy for him.


“Good. Justin, you, of course, will follow Brian any place he goes, staying one pace behind.” Cynthia continued with her instructions. “If you stop, Brian, Justin will be expected to drop to his knees, unless you order him to stand. I strongly suggest that you not let Justin stay anywhere without you, because you just don’t know what people will say or do and he wouldn’t be able to do anything at all to protect himself.” Brian had already planned for this and definitely would NOT be going anywhere without Justin. “While you’re around, nobody will be able to touch Justin or even address him directly. They have to get your permission, as his owner, for any of that. So, just to be safe, stay together.”


“So, now for your attire. Brian, I assume you will be wearing a suit. Nothing too fancy - you don’t want to overdo it - but your usual designer labels should impress.” Brian shrugged, already having planned his outfit for the night, and concurring with Cynthia’s analysis. Then Cyn reached down below her chair and brought out a small shopping bag that had been waiting there throughout the afternoon. “As for Justin, well . . . If this were a formal PC affair, all PCs would be expected to appear completely unclothed, except for their collars, of course. But, since this is just a casual dinner, I’m hoping that you can get away with having Justin dressed in this.”


Brian took the small bag Cynthia handed him and pulled out a very skimpy pair of leather shorts that looked like they wouldn’t cover a five year old, let alone the young man sitting next to him. Shit! Even if the kid could get them on, Brian thought it was likely they’d leave half his ass hanging out the back. And this was considered demure dinner wear?


Cynthia properly read her boss’ face and interrupted before he could complain. “I know they’re not much, Brian, but it’s really the best I think you can get away with. I told you, this is something you’ve never been exposed to and it’s not going to be easy.” Brian sighed and passed the shorts over to Justin, who simply let them sit on his lap where they lay. “As it is, I’m sure somebody’s bound to comment on the shorts. I thought you could just say something vague about them being ‘punishment’. Just don’t get into what you’re punishing him for. That excuse should also suffice to explain why you insist on having him follow you everywhere, I hope.”


“I hope you’re right about all of this, Cynthia. I have a bad fucking feeling about tonight,” Brian worried aloud.


He wasn’t reassured when Cynthia simply looked at the two of them with a small sympathetic smile and didn’t say anything.


********

Nothing much had been accomplished at VanGuard after that. Brian tried to concentrate on more paperwork but soon gave it up and decided to head home. Justin, of course, didn’t object. Not that being back at the loft was any better. Both men seemed completely at loose ends. Brian wandered aimlessly around the rooms and Justin sat in his spot on the couch and stared. It was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. When it came time to start getting ready, it was almost a relief.


Brian dressed himself in his Armani armor and then waited while Justin donned his leather boy shorts. They were just as small as he’d suspected they’d be. And considering it was fucking freezing out, the boy was likely going to be cold all night to boot. Brian grabbed the large black wool cloak that Justin had worn home from the auction and wrapped it around him, hoping that would be enough to keep him warm at least while they were driving around.


The last thing that Brian did before they left was to get Justin’s thick leather collar out of the kitchen junk drawer where he’d stashed it. He didn’t want to even look at the damned thing, and hated that he had to put it on the boy’s neck. Justin, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by this part of the proceedings and meekly bent his head forward to make it easier for Brian to latch the buckle. After the collar was on, Brian also clipped on the long leather leash, feeling stupid even as he started to lead his PC towards the door.


Brian pulled the jeep up to the brightly lit Lapointe mansion a little more than twenty minutes later. He was dreading going inside. What he’d prefer would be to turn the car around and just get the fuck out of there as fast as humanly possible. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Not without risking Justin’s life as well as his own lifestyle. But he couldn’t go in there without saying something reassuring to the boy who was depending on him. Not that he was all that good at reassuring pep talks. He’d never really tried one before. Now seemed a pretty good time to learn, though.


“I’ve never been a big fan of apologies, you know,” Brian started out, hoping to explain himself adequately even though his words sounded insufficient even in his own mind. “I always figured that, by the time you said you were sorry, it was too late to do anything about it. And the words alone rarely help anyway. They don’t make things better or take away the hurt. But, right now, I can’t think of anything else to say to you, Justin,” Brian reached over, his hand cupping the boy’s chin and forcing him to look up until their eyes met. “I AM sorry that you have to do this. I wish to holy fuck that there was some other way to make things right. And I promise you - I swear - that I won’t let anyone in there hurt you tonight. Just try to trust me, okay. I know that’s almost impossible for you at this point, but please try.” Brian leaned forward, his forehead gently resting against the other man’s, their noses almost touching and Brian’s breath ghosting against Justin’s lips with every word. “I need to know that you trust me or I won’t be able to do this. I won’t be able to take you in there. Not knowing how much this is going to frighten you. Not unless I know you believe that I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”


Brian held on and waited for a response. Giving the boy all the time he needed to reply. Unwilling to move until he got what he’d asked for. Ready to leave, if that was Justin’s decision. Finally, after a dozen shared breaths, the face Brian held in his hands nodded up and down twice.


“Thank you, Justin,” Brian said gratefully, not releasing his grip until he’d stolen one chaste kiss, then sitting up again with a deep sigh. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”


Brian got out of the jeep and went around to the passenger side to let Justin out. He reluctantly grabbed the leash and, with one last conspiratorial glance at the boy, set off up the walk to the front door, confident that the PC would follow along obediently. The doorbell was answered by an obsequious, elderly black doorman dressed in black slacks and a black shirt with a black bow tie. Even if Brian didn’t already know the type of people who lived here, this welcoming committee would have clued him in. The doorman greeted the guests, took Brian’s coat and Justin’s cloak, then ushered the man and his companion inside, leading them down a hallway to the room he called the ‘Salon’, announcing Brian to the assembly inside.


“Brian! Welcome! Welcome! Come on in and meet everyone,” Lapointe greeted him jovially, welcoming the AdMan and dragging him further into the room. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Aleta. Aleta, darling, this strapping young man is Brian Kinney. He’s the gentleman I’ve been telling you about. The one that I hope will rejuvenate our marketing efforts and help PC Clearinghouse corner the PC resale market for the entire east coast. Brian, may I introduce my lovely wife, Aleta.”


“Oh, Mr. Kinney. I’m just thrilled to meet you! Walt has been extolling your virtues all week,” the plump, garishly made-up woman tittered, grabbing onto Brian’s forearm and hanging there like a limpet. “I’m so happy you could make it for dinner tonight. I know your secretary said you were already busy, but I’m just tickled pink that you made room in your schedule. Especially since Walt neglected to inform me of the one virtue you possess that I, myself, find the most engaging - your handsome good looks.”


“Why thank you, Mrs. Lapointe. I assure you, the pleasure of getting to meet such a lovely hostess was more than enough of an inducement to get me here,” Brian responded, bringing out the Kinney charm and putting it to what he hoped would be good use.


“Walt did mention that you were a charmer. Now I see why he said that,” the buxom woman giggled at the over-the-top compliment. “But, please, Brian - it IS okay if I call you Brian, right?” Brian nodded acquiescently, “And you should call me Aleta. I just know we’re going to be good friends and friends should always be on a first name basis.” Brian bowed in a gentlemanly fashion without comment. “Wonderful. Now, Brian, let me introduce you to everyone.”


Looping her arm through Brian’s, Aleta Lapointe led the way into the middle of the elegantly appointed room which was filled with people. Brian immediately noticed the surreal dichotomy between the polished and fashionably dressed guests - all of whom were standing around with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces while they chatted inanely - and the surrounding phalanx of naked PCs who stood silently at attention or knelt at their owners’ feet. It was even stranger that nobody other than himself seemed to notice the strangeness.  It felt like he’d just walked into an alien world where he didn’t understand anything that was going on. But he also smiled and said nothing, because that was what was expected of him.


“So, Brian, I believe you’ve already met Howard and Jim,” Aleta simpered, dragging Brian’s focus back to the present with a sickening lurch as he recognized the two men. “At least there’ll be a few familiar faces for you here tonight.”


“Kinney! When I heard that Walter was having you over tonight I just had to invite myself along so I could see how you and my pretty little lost boy were faring,” Howard Bellweather greeted with a fakely affable smile before looking longingly down at the silent blond boy who had obediently dropped to his knees at Brian’s feet as soon as they stopped walking. “But, from the looks of him, I’d say you two are getting along famously. He looks even more tempting than he did the other night.”


Bellweather didn’t wait to hear Brian’s reply to this comment before turning to Jim Stockwell. “You know, I have always been attracted to beautiful boys. It’s a weakness of mine. Even before I started writing and had the means to purchase PCs, I just couldn’t stay away from pretty, little boys. And, not to toot my own horn or anything, but back then, they couldn’t resist me either. If you know what I mean,” Howard chuckled suggestively while he elbowed his friend jocularly in the ribs. “Those were the days, huh? Not that I can’t still pull them when I put my mind to it. It helps that I’m famous. You should see the way the boys flaunt themselves around me at my book signings sometimes. Basically, I could just point and yell ‘drop your pants’ and they’d fall all over themselves to oblige me. *Hahahaha*”


“You ARE a bad boy, aren’t you, Howie! Don’t you be leading my Jimmy astray, though,” an athletic, dark-haired woman who’d moved to stand next to Stockwell admonished Bellweather. “I have a hard enough time keeping all the women around from throwing themselves at him. I don’t need you tempting him with pretty little blond boys, too.”


“Now, now, Anne, you know how I feel about that. It’s fine for Howie, I suppose, but I would never . . .” Stockwell immediately corrected everyone, looking slightly scandalized by the very suggestion that he would be interested in anything of a homosexual nature - although, if those rumors that Cynthia had mentioned to Brian earlier were true, Jimmy wasn’t above indulging in a boy or two himself at many of the PC parties he was invited to by friends. “Anne, let me introduce you to Brian Kinney. From what Walter tells us, he’s the latest wunderkind of the advertising world,” Stockwell said, quickly changing the subject. “Kinney, may I present my wonderful wife of 23 years, Anne.”


“Charmed, I’m sure,” Brian intoned, accepting the woman’s proffered hand and then gallantly bowing over it to buss her knuckles.


“Oh, my! You were right about this one, Walter. He is a cad!” Anne Stockwell giggled, and was joined by a still hovering Aleta Lapointe.


“No fair monopolizing him, Anne, dear. I still haven’t introduced Brian to the rest of our group,” Aleta insisted as she shooed away the Stockwells and waved forward another pair of ladies. “Brian, this is Gail Barr - she’s Howard’s sister - and Amanda Hobbs - who’s one of my dearest friends from college. Ladies, come say hello to Brian Kinney, Walter’s newest PC aspirant.”


“Lovely to meet you both, ladies,” Brian shot his most Kinney-esque smile at the two women.


“Welcome into the fold, Mr. Kinney,” said the acerbic-looking Gail, who was gazing at Brian with more than a hint of antipathy as she fingered the leather leash of a small-statured, dark-haired twink PC kneeling at her own feet. “My brother has told everyone about what went down at the auction the other night. He was so disappointed to lose out on the item he was bidding on. Is this him?” The woman gestured towards Justin. “He is quite attractive. I can definitely see why Howard would want him. My brother has always gone for the golden, cream-filled twinkie type.” She twittered smugly at her brother, apparently enjoying her own teasing comment.


“I wouldn’t talk, Sis,” Bellweather replied. “Gail likes to try a twinkie herself every so often. Right, Gail?” The woman smiled and shrugged at her brother. “In fact, we share a lot of the same tastes in men . . . and sometimes even the same men . . . which, it turns out, is a great way to effectively double our respective PC stables,” Howard explained to their listeners. “Gail and I were always taught by our parents to share, you know, and we still do to this day.”


“That’s so economical of you,” was the completely inhumane comment from Aleta Lapointe, as she passed over the admission that Brian himself found utterly vile without even batting an eyelash. “But enough talk of PCs, please. Being married to Walter, I hear PC talk day in and day out. We can do without it for at least a few more minutes tonight, can't we? Besides, I haven’t introduced Brian to the rest of our guests yet. So you boys will just have to talk shop later. Now, Brian, let me introduce you to the Weatheralls. Sam. Diana. Darlings, come over here and meet our newest initiate.”


Brian endured another half hour of meeting and greeting the rest of the Lapointes' friends. Aleta Lapointe seemed to have attached herself to Brian and practically refused to leave his side the entire time. She insisted on making sure he had first a drink and then a plate of hors d’oeuvres, which were kept filled at all times. And she also made sure that he was the center of the conversation as much as possible, as if to show off her new attraction to all her friends. Brian put up with her attentions as best he could, trying to ingratiate himself with the wife, who he found at least marginally less repulsive than the husband. He also spread his Kinney charm around amongst the women as liberally as he could, hoping to win whatever allies he could in this pack of vipers.


By the time the last guests arrived the party consisted of six men and six women, many of whom were accompanied by their own leash-led PCs. It made for quite the crowd. Luckily, only half of them were allowed to speak, which kept the noise level down a bit. However, even through all the noise and bustle, and even though Brian never made it back around to the spot where Bellweather was holding court, he was hyper-aware the entire time of the way the oily man’s eyes followed Justin everywhere. It was bad enough that the room was crowded and stuffy - that alone was more than enough to cause Justin anxiety - but the never ending leers and overheard lewd comments from Bellweather, were even more nerve racking. Brian could feel the almost constant terrified trembling coming from the boy and couldn’t help occasionally reaching down and trailing his fingertips across a bare shoulder or through the thick blond hair, even though Cynthia had warned him not to be too demonstrative. But it was the only thing he COULD do to try and reassure the terror filled boy, so he did it anyway and hoped there wouldn’t be too many negative consequences.

 

Chapter End Notes:

10/17/16 - And that's just the beginning of the horrors of this particular dinner party, people. Ack! I hate these people so much. While I was writing this, I was constantly creeping myself out. Evil people. Hate them. Hate writing them. But it's going to be a good story, so I shall continue. TAG

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