Boys at the Seaside 1

Boys at the Seaside

Chapter I

“Well, at least the place is nice,” Rick gave his verdict after examining his surroundings.

Rick had exuded disapproval since the moment Johnny had announced his intention to accept Milton’s invitation to spend a week with them at a seaside resort on the French Riviera. Milton had mentioned that as far as he could understand it was intended for those in power exchange relationships and John had found it to be a good idea to escape someplace where he and Rick could abandon themselves to the full extent of their chosen life.

Rick, of course, had met the idea with resistance, and Johnny, in order to nip any fight in the bud, had declared that any argument from Rick would be swiftly dealt with in the most unpleasant way. After that, Rick had resorted to silent resistance, expressing his displeasure with gloomy looks and sulky glances, but had mostly cooperated.  

John just grunted at Rick’s remark, unwilling to start any conversation with a tired and obviously annoyed Rick until they were in the privacy of their room. The resort might be intended for like-minded people, but it didn’t mean he felt ready to bring Rick down in front of an audience consisting of strangers.   

They walked to the reception desk, and while Johnny was dealing with their reservation, Rick’s eyes kept wondering around, observing the surrounding area.

“Do you know if Milton will be here with his entire harem?” Rick asked, feigning innocence, his slender fingers playing with the long pointy leafs, sticking out of the floral arrangement decorating the front desk.

John’s hand immediately grabbed Rick by his elbow and squeezed it so tightly that Rick squeaked. “You will not make inappropriate remarks about Milton or his submissives under any circumstances,” John hissed into his ear.

“I just asked if they were coming,” Rick exclaimed vehemently. “How was that inappropriate?”

“Quit the innocent act,” John let out a whispered growl. “I mean it, Rick, one word, gesture or look that is less than civilized for my standards and I will take the skin off your back. You’re here as my submissive, and your behavior is a reflection of my dominance. I will not have it mocked.”

“Sheesh,” Rick pulled his elbow away from John. “Is this place some kind of arena for dominants to beat their chest and show themselves off? I should have guessed it.” There was something else Rick wanted to say, but as John’s heavy hand settled on his buttocks, Rick’s mouth immediately closed.

Johnny grabbed their key from the young receptionist who gave them a knowing look and marched Rick upstairs.

“The brochure with the rules are in your room, sir,” the receptionist called after John, who nodded his understanding. Power exchange parties always had rules, but getting Rick to agree to rules was going to be problematic, if Rick’s mood didn’t improve.   

 “I’m sorry, I’ve been a brat,” Rick mumbled as they started to climb the stairs.

John turned around abruptly to look at Rick, stopping for a moment and raising an eyebrow.

Rick shrugged his shoulders and went on, “I know I’ve been at your throat all week. It’s just I was looking forward to having a week with you and you went ahead and made arrangements that meant having to split your attention with others.” Rick’s voice trailed off as his eyes dropped to the plush red carpet decorating the stairs.

John pulled Rick into a hug and held onto him. “Angel, you always have my full attention when we’re together and not having to worry what others think will only allow us to have a better time. Besides, I know you like Milton and his boys, at least Mike and Sheldon,” he amended, thinking that they had yet to meet two of Milton’s boys. As for Austin, the boy was so young that it made John uncomfortable, despite the fact that during the short time he’d known Milton, he came to trust and respect the man. Intellectually he understood that Milton would never cross any lines, but Austin’s youth was something that made John uneasy.

Rick rolled his eyes, pushing his palms deeper into John’s hard chest. “They think I’m certifiably crazy. What I think of them hardly matters.” Rick tilted his head up, puckering his lips and demanding a kiss from Johnny.

“Correction, angel, they think we’re both certifiably crazy.” Johnny grinned at his boy and bent his head to place a harsh kiss on Rick’s soft lips. “Yet, they still like us. They can’t be all that sane themselves.” John beamed once more at his angel. He pulled Rick against his chest and started to walk them both to their room.

“Sooo,” Rick crooned from where he was pressed against John’s chest, “being around Milton will not give you ideas?” Johnny looked at Rick uncomprehending. “Like starting a harem?” Rick explained with a funny look of stern disapproval on his face.

Johnny laughed at that and gave Rick another kiss. “No, beautiful, it won’t.”

“All right, then,” Rick said indulgently. “You can play with them.”

Johnny gave Rick a hard pat on his rump and propelled him forward with a slap to the same anatomic region. Their light tussle was interrupted by a blond man, who looked to be in his early thirties, sliding down the stair railing right by their side and almost landing on his face.

Rick’s eyes turned as big as saucers. John was speechless, trying to figure out what had just happened. It wasn’t every day you that you saw a thirty something man sliding down the stairs at a five star hotel.

“What the hell?” Rick’s rant was cut short by a tall, dark-haired man with stern features.

“Swearing is unacceptable behavior, young man.” He measured Rick from top to toe and turned his attention to the younger blond who looked like a schoolboy caught red-handed. “Joshua Emanuel Stevens, you stay right there and wait for me.” The man barked at the blond. “I highly doubt that Quentin finds this sort of dangerous behavior acceptable,” the man continued his stern speech.

Rick’s jaw was close to hitting the floor. Johnny couldn’t remember any other time that his boy was rendered speechless.

“Oh my God, Johnny,” Rick said, recovering from his shock. “We’re in a loony bin!” Rick’s eyes were still perfect circles.

Johnny shook his own stunned state away and putting his finger under Rick’s jaw pushed it close. “To each his own fantasy, Rick. We are not to judge others.” He pulled Rick after him. “Come on, I need a shower and a change of clothes.”

Rick snorted at that. “After that?” He jerked his head after the retreating couple. “I need vodka, at least. Pure alcohol sounds even better. The only good thing is that apparently you saw it too, so I wasn’t hallucinating,” he mumbled under his breath and followed Johnny. “Let’s get to our room, before I see a grown dude in a diaper with a pacifier.”

Johnny had to laugh at that, but deep down a feeling of uncertainty started to rise in him. Were there dudes in diapers walking around the place? It started to sound like a possibility.  

“Ahhhh,” Rick let out a blissful moan as he plummeted on the bed. John couldn’t agree more, the shower stall with hydro massage was perfect. He sat down by Rick’s side and smiled at the look of heavenly peace on Rick’s face. It had been a tense couple of weeks for Rick and seeing him finally relax and enjoy himself was really nice. Johnny hoped he would see more of that expression on his boy’s face this week.   

“I need to install something like that at home; only I will never leave the bathroom if I do.” Rick grinned mischievously at Johnny, stretching his arms out and inviting Johnny to join him.

John bent down, covering Rick, but keeping his weight on his hands. He kissed Rick deeply, but briefly.

“In a second, angel. Let me undo our luggage and then we can have fun,” he promised before pushing himself off the bed and starting to pull out their things from their small suitcases. Both of them were very unpretentious travelers, which meant their entire luggage consisted of two small cabin baggage sized trolley bags.   

While John was arranging their things Rick was busy roaming around in the bedside nightstand. “Rules?!” Rick exclaimed like it was the most offensive thing he had ever heard.

John stopped what he was doing and without turning to face Rick said in his most calm, yet authoritative tone, “Rick, all BDSM events have a set of rules the participants are to abide by. You have attended enough of Arthur’s parties to know that what the Master of the Dungeon says goes. It’s for safety and it cannot be bypassed. It’s expected they would have rules here as well.” He sensed Rick getting ready to say something, so he turned his head to Rick and fixed him with a stern glance. “You will abide by them, Rick! No arguments.”

“Really? I hope for your own sake that you are not familiar with this bizarre piece of literature because if you are and you brought me into this nest of lunatics, I’m going to turn your life into complete hell for a week. And you are welcomed to beat me as much as your heart wants,” Rick finished, his eyes blazing green fires.

“Rick,” John growled his warning.

“Oh, let’s see.” Rick ignored John and started to read the rules loudly. “It is strictly forbidden to run, jump or slide down off the roof,” Rick announced thunderously and gave John a quizzical look. “Or the stairs,” he continued. “This establishes that the lunatic out there earlier was not a singular occurrence. Ah, another good one,” Rick said cheerfully. “It is strictly forbidden to swim beyond the lines marking the swimming perimeter. All brats should be accompanied by their tops at any time during their stay in the water.” The last sentence was accompanied by another look from Rick that bordered on murderous. Johnny felt his stomach tighten in knots. He silently vowed to kill Milton if he’d known what particular kink this community served and still set them up for it. It was something that would not go well with Rick, who still struggled with accepting and understanding different types of submission, and submission that had a heavy dose of relinquishing every day rights, would not sit well with Rick.  “BRATS?” Rick practically shrieked the word. “And that’s not all; it goes on and on. There is another two hundred forbidden activities, that no one of sound mind would actually try. But the fun part just starts here.  Apparently” -He made a pause for dramatic purposes– “we have fixed mealtimes and bedtimes as well. I wonder if the menu is fixed too,” Rick chirped with joy.

John was now sitting on the floor, his head gathered between his hands, his task abandoned.

“Oh, looksy,” Rick said with mock enthusiasm. “There’s more. They even have an appendix. It’s for the TOPS this time,” he said giving John a pointed look. “Instruction for the care of a sick brat.” He read the title of one brochure and put it by his side with exaggerated care. “Instructions for dealing with a spinning brat,” he read another one. “There are more. Would you care for me to read them all? Or is it too un-brat of me to actually know how to read?” he said acidly.

Johnny said nothing. He was definitely going to murder Milton. He was just too busy fantasizing about different ways of doing it.

“Congratulations, you ape,” Rick snapped, jumping off the bed and striding to stand above John’s head. “You have dragged us into a sanatorium administrated for the insane by the insane.”

John snarled and leaped to his feet. His beast was too wound up as it was; he was not going to give Rick any more leeway than he already had. He pushed Rick against the wall, captured his wrists, and pulled his hands over his head, trapping Rick between the hard surface and his own body.

“Doesn’t matter where we are, you will treat me with respect, boy,” John growled right into Rick’s face. “Or I will give this people a show of dominance that will crumble their little, neatly organized world.” Rick went limp under him, eyes lowering in submission.

Johnny claimed Rick’s mouth thoroughly, before biting down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. Rick whimpered and let his legs fall apart, allowing Johnny access to his body. John devoured the burning, wanton body trapped under his own superior weight.

“I’m pretty sure, there was a rule about no sex as well,” Rick panted under him. John pulled the boy off the wall and bent him over his knee. His heavy paw descended on Rick’s upturned bottom with merciless speed and power. Rick yipped and howled.

This still could prove to be fun, Johnny mused, right before pushing Rick face down against the bed. He pulled his belt off and secured Rick’s wrists with it to the large headboard that was entirely too suitable for bondage.  

Rick let out a happy moan as he squirmed in John’s arms, effectively waking them both. John hissed at him and swatted his bare butt in retribution.

“It’s vacation. You’re supposed to sleep in,” John grumbled unhappily, knowing too well that his objections were not only moot but also hypocritical. He, himself, had never been able to sleep beyond his usual time for waking up.

Rick’s response was a shameless wiggle of his ass that still held a distinctive reminder of their night’s activities in the form of deep, red welts, replicating John’s belt perfectly. John’s hands roamed all over Rick’s body, as he pulled his boy to lie down over his body’s full length.

They lay like that for a while, kissing and stroking each other – lazily, unhurriedly, as they enjoyed the rare treat of an unrushed morning. There was a special kind of pleasure in such languid caresses that had no clear intent or direction, the only purpose being the simplest act of connection with the other.

Rick eventually rolled off Johnny, pulling the covers with him. He wrapped the large sheet around his body, mimicking a toga and ignoring John’s protest over being left on the bed without cover, walked to the balcony.

“Oh, wow! Johnny get over here, you must see this. The view is stunning!” Rick called enthusiastically, as he reached the balcony.

John crooked his neck to look in the direction of the large terrace that was stretching all along their room. Yesterday, when they reached their room, it was already starting to get dark, so they hadn’t paid much attention to it. Now, with the rising sun coloring the sea and the sky scarlet, the view was impossible to miss. Johnny let out a long whistle and climbed off the bed. He walked onto the balcony and hugged Rick from behind, wrapping his bigger body around Rick’s smaller one, as tightly as possible.

“It’s gorgeous, angel,” John said, nuzzling Rick’s disheveled hair.

“Mmmm, this might be a nest of loonies, but they sure do have a view.”

Rick’s musing brought John back to their current situation. In the excitement and pleasure of last night he had forgotten his discomfort over the fact that the resort sounded to be for those involved in discipline relationships, something that Rick was going to have a problem with. While Johnny had an open mind and acceptance for  the entire range of kink that was done consensually, there were particular variation of kinks that made him deeply uncomfortable. Discipline was one of those. He had no trouble understanding those who readily accepted their own lifestyle as part of BDSM. Why would he? After all, if he could pretend to be a barbarian prince taking an unwilling prisoner to his bed, why couldn’t someone pretend to be the wise, voice of reason to a bratty boy? It might not be his kind of fantasy, but it was still a fantasy. He, however, had problem with those who denied the fantasy aspect of such an arrangement, claiming it to be a simple necessity of life, a legitimate educational tool. That was where he drew the line. The power held inherent darkness, and when the one vested with such power had a genuine belief that his judgment was somehow superior to that of his partner, it was a recipe for disaster. Abuse was never too far in such cases; in fact, more often than not such claims were a mere mask for an abusive relationship. His dilemma, when faced with such situations, was always the same: did he have a right to interfere in any way without expressly being asked? He could never figure an answer to that. What if he was just projecting his own views on others? What if his assessment of the situation was wrong and it was just a mutually understood and accepted fantasy that just looked real from  the outside? If anything, his relationship with Rick, seen from outside, would look abusive. In this particular situation, the facts were even less clear. How could he know for sure that this wasn’t just a safe harbor to live a fantasy by those having an inclination to it? There was no reason for him to believe that it all wasn’t a part of an elaborate scene, created for the benefit of the participants. Of course it seemed almost impossible that the organizers could possibly guarantee that all participants were in clear understanding of the situation, but that was true for any BDSM event; there was always the danger of a rotten apple infiltrating the scene.

John let out a deep breath, as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

“Oh, God,” Rick exclaimed, pressing his head back against John’s chest. “I can hear your brain working. I think, I can even smell it burning,” Rick chuckled and turned around in John’s arms. “What are you thinking about?” He enquired, looking at John with bright green eyes that burst with the all the colors of the rainbow, as the sea and sun reflected in them.

Johnny closed his eyes against the impossible beauty of his lover and took a deep, calming breath. Sometimes the emotions toward Rick storming in his heart were just too much to bear. He could feel his love for Rick and his need to possess his boy intoxicate him to a degree of near lightheadedness. He was terrified of his own reaction at moments like this, but when he opened his eyes and saw the soft smile on his boy’s serene face, his confident and cocky tilt of the chin, he knew this boy would never cower before him and would never break.  

He bent down and captured Rick’s lips in a long, gentle kiss.

“That we need coffee,” he breathed in response. “And food.”

Rick let out a cracking laugh as merry as the ripple of the waves crashing against the rocky seashore in the background. “Agreed,” Rick nodded his head smartly. “Now get dressed, before you get charged for indecent exposure.” He smiled at John, measuring him from head to toe.

“I’m in a resort catering to kinky people, I think I’m allowed to walk naked on my own balcony.”

“Wrong kink, tiger,” Rick sniggered, patting John’s muscular hip as he walked around him and into the room.

Walking into the restaurant, Johnny let his eyes scan the hall in hopes of detecting Milton and Co. There was no trace of Milton’s gang. It was still too early, so John consoled himself, vaguely remembering the itinerary Milton had emailed to him. He really didn’t want to spend an entire day in this place without Milton’s reassuring tendency toward diplomacy.

They settled at a table and a waiter approached them immediately.

“Your menu, sir,” the young man attending them said, placing a leather bound menu in front of Johnny. “And will you be ordering for your brat, or should he have a menu? Most of our tops order for their brats to insure healthy choices,” the waiter continued helpfully.

“A menu for him.” Johnny barely concealed a wince. This was breakfast, not a formal dinner with boys kneeling at their dominants’ feet, and  John hated events too heavy on protocol. He even avoided Arthur’s parties if the rules called for the strict following of a formal code of behavior. Rick gave the man a glower that could have killed him on the spot. The waiter was lucky he had his eyes on John, because no amount of courage would have kept him in place if he’d noticed Rick’s death glare.  

“Thank you.” Johnny forced a smile to go with the words. “Be so kind as to get us coffee before we decide on our breakfast.”

The young man looked at John as if he had asked for Kama-Sutra volume in the Vatican Library. “We don’t have coffee, sir,” the waiter huffed, trying and failing at politeness.

“Excuse me?” Rick’s voice rose with indignation. “A resort that advertises itself as having five stars cannot tell me it doesn’t have coffee.” Rick’s voice boomed in the semi-empty hall, making everybody’s head turn toward them.

The waiter valiantly tried not to acknowledge Rick’s existence, but the effort was taking its toll on the young man. Rick pushed his chair a bit farther back and was now in full Richard Masters’s mode.

The waiter gave John a pleading look. Johnny held his hands up and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t look at me; I’m still trying to process the no coffee part.” As he finished his sentence, with the corner of his eye he caught a man moving toward their table. He was tall and broad, and he was walking directly to Rick. Johnny stood up from his chair and came to stand between the approaching man and his boy.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” The man asked, a well rehearsed smile on his face that was something between indulgent and condescending. “I am Robert Bates,” he introduced himself, gathering John’s arm in a strong shake. “You apparently are new to this, I could help you rein your brat in, if you need it,” he said brightly. 

John felt his vision cloud with red mist. Who was this pompous stranger that dared to assume he would share Rick? His boy’s soft hand slipping into his hand was what anchored Johnny to sanity. Rick put his head against John’s hand and rubbed his face against it, purring like a kitten. John physically felt his need for violence subside to manageable levels.

“I believe we can find a place that serves coffee, somewhere. This is the French Riviera after all; coffee shops will be at every step,” he told Rick, pulling him by his hand, while his eyes remained fixed on the other man.

Robert’s smile faltered at John’s clear refusal to follow his lead.

“No.” Rick’s voice was serene to everyone else. To John it was a declaration of war. “I can cite you dozen of cases,” Rick crooned, taking several steps to stand almost toe to toe with Robert, “where courts have ruled that if the customer is paying a higher price, he is entitled to more superior goods or services. For the amount you charge, I can demand you either grab me a cup of coffee from Columbia or carry me on your shoulders to the nearest café and serve the damn thing on your back.” Rick’s eyes blazed with anger.

“Young man, I will not allow this.” The man was obviously getting ready for a scalding lecture, but Rick would have none of it.

“As a paying customer”  –Rick flicked the name-tag attached to Robert’s’s chest– “you will allow whatever I say you should.”

“Enough, Rick,” John said softly. “I have no intention of spoiling our vacation any further. We will go find ourselves a place to get our breakfast and then look for another hotel.”  

“Oh, but darling, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve paid for this and I expect to receive what I’ve paid for.”

“Ricky.” John let his voice turn a shade sterner.

“That is why brats need tighter reins,” It was one of the customers who was glaring at the pair of them. “If you can’t handle him, let those with appropriate training do it.”

That was the point that Johnny realized if he didn’t leave right that moment he would turn into a threat to public safety. What the man’s words suggested was not a fantasy enjoyed by consenting parties. John had just declared that he wasn’t comfortable with the scene, and their response was that Rick should be forced into accepting rules that neither Rick nor John were interested in accepting as part of their game. “Move, Rick,” he barked at Rick, pulling him by his elbow.

“Not a chance,” Rick declared with finality and pulled his elbow free.

Johnny grabbed Rick by his braid and snarled at him, “Kneel.” When Rick didn’t move, he roared, “Now!”

Rick’s eyes went wide, and he hit the floor instantly. The room went silent, even the shocked intakes of breath froze in mid air. Robert was the first to recover from the shock and try to approach them.

“If you intend to come any closer to me, you might want to call security,” Johnny said, glaring at the man. Whatever the man was he was not stupid. He remained still. “You have your games, this is mine,” John announced to no one in particular, still holding Rick’s eyes. “I should make you kiss my feet and apologize for disobeying me,” he said to Rick, bending down slightly and lowering his voice so that it wouldn’t be heard by anyone but Rick.

Rick’s eyes got even wider; his breath quickened beyond reasonable. His heartbeat was almost visible in his enlarged pupils. The excited flare of Rick’s nostrils told John that his boy was discovering the exhibitionist in himself. Rick was spellbound by the unashamed demonstration of dominance John was throwing at the patrons. John felt his dominance expand and grow till it overwhelmed his essence and slipped into the room and their surroundings. Rick’s reaction was priceless. His head bent down and he placed a reverent kiss to John’s feet, murmuring apologies. The murmur of those scandalized by the sight brushed John’s ears, but John couldn’t spare them a second. He pulled Rick to his feet and marched him out of the restaurant.

****

“We’re going on vacation! We’re going on vacation!” Austin danced around the table, waving his passport in the air.

“I thought I told you not to feed that boy sugar for breakfast,” Ryan said, making a grab for a now fleeing Austin.

“I didn’t,” Milton said dryly. “That was Mace’s coffee cake.”

“It wasn’t my cake. It was the coffee. Austin made it this morning. You could’ve creosoted the back pasture fence with it.” Mace smiled languidly and swung his carry on over his shoulder. “I’m glad we’re six rows ahead of you.”

“Austin,” Milton growled.

“Yes, sir,” Austin chirped. He really shouldn’t have made the coffee, and he most certainly shouldn’t have drunk four cups. Except for alcohol, Milton was cool about what he ate, but they both knew coffee made him insane. Too much coffee and Milton would either exercise him to death or find some way to take him down. The only problem was they needed to leave for the airport and Austin was vibrating.

“Suggestions, gentlemen,” Milton asked, his eyes more irritated than amused.

“There’s always Valium, Master.”

“We could tie him alongside the car and let him run it off,” Ryan said.

“It’s not funny,” Austin snapped.

“Austin,” Tilden said gently. Tilden was always gentle. He was standing next to Luke, his long arm resting around Luke’s shoulders. “You’ve never flown, have you? Are you afraid of flying?”

Austin felt his face flush, and he momentarily stopped his kitchen laps to jiggle his leg. He was the baby. Of course he’d be the one afraid of flying. Mike had been all over the world. Luke and Tilden flitted off to Russia. He was the one who stayed firmly in the states.

“Come here, boy.” That was Milton at his most dominant. That was a voice Austin didn’t disobey. Milton’s hand was heavy on Austin’s shoulder. Thick fingers twined in Austin’s hair and jerked his head up. “I could have made this easy for you, but you chose the difficult path. Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Austin swallowed and fought to keep his voice steady.

“My touch is bondage. You will stay still and close. Any infraction will be punished severely.”

Austin nodded, not trusting his voice. Milton was scary when he looked like that, more scary than any airplane crash. Austin wanted to know the possible consequences, but he didn’t dare ask. Milton knew how to punish: the cane with its brutal sharpness, the hand far longer than any pleasure, the steady look of disappointment in his eyes, the lack of the cherished good boy and ready affection. Austin would rather get beat twice over than live with one of Milton’s lectures and quiet demand to reflect on his decisions. Those were awful; those were a truly furious Milton, a Milton not only being his dominant but the older and more senior dealing with another of Austin’s idiocies. Would he go there if Austin couldn’t stop his toe tapping and knuckle crunching?

“Boy, this should be a challenge. We haven’t done much bondage, and it’s far harder without the physical restraint. Will you succeeded or will your first night in France feature lovely red skin?”

Austin drew in a long, harsh breath. Milton wasn’t really mad, exasperated maybe, but not mad. Austin could do this, and if he failed it wouldn’t be too awful. A spanking on a new continent might be kind of cool.  

Austin peered out the window of the “magical express.” As far as he could tell it was an ordinary bus. It hadn’t turned into a flying bus nor did it even rate an automatic driver. Two overly enthusiastic tour guides in khaki shorts and yellow vests had herded them aboard, and an elderly man with nicotine stained teeth and black gloves sat behind the giant steering wheel. There were maybe five other couples on the bus besides Milton’s gangs. Well, he assumed couples, but Milton’s merry men looked like couples also. 

Milton had sat next to Austin throughout the long and tedious flight. It hadn’t been scary, only tedious, and the film had been awful. Milton was now with Sheldon, Luke with Tilden, and Austin with Mike. This was how they tended to break up if doubles were needed. Sometimes they’d do Tilden and Milton, Sheldon and Austin, and Luke and Mike. Austin craned his neck to see who else was on the bus. At least the crowd was younger than most of the guys at the GMB headquarters; some of the guys didn’t look much older than Austin himself. A man with raven black hair and the bluest of blue eyes grinned shamelessly and waved when he caught Austin looking. Austin grinned back. Austin slid out of his seat and shifted back to the empty seat across from the black-haired man.

“Hi, I’m Austin.”

“Young man, you shouldn’t be walking in a moving vehicle. It’s most dangerous.”

What? Who? Austin unabashedly stared at the man giving him a lecture. The guy was pretty enough if stuffy and preppy was your wet dream. He had on khakis and a dark polo shirt. A copy of one of the financial papers was crumpled in his hand. His eyes were green behind very proper tortoise shell glasses.

“A couple of seats hardly seems dangerous,” Austin said with a shrug. “I was bored.”

“Did your top give you permission?”

Austin looked forward between the seats. Milton had changed places with Luke and was now asleep with his head on Tilden’s shoulder, and Tilden’s eyes were buried in some journal. “He’s sleeping.”

“Don’t lie, young man. I saw you slide around your top. What did you tell him?”

“Oh, Mike, he’s not my top. God, he likes to be beat way too much to ever be called a top.” Austin shut up quickly at the wide-eyed stare from the man. He shouldn’t have said anything about Mike anyway. Mike still had a bit of a complex about the whole submissive thing. He played like the devil, but Austin wasn’t blind to Milton’s work with Mike on the other side. Austin lived in their nuthouse; he was as Landon put it wise beyond his years about the mechanics of these relationships, not that he was supposed to hear Landon’s comment. Austin had a bad habit of listening to closed door conversations. Don’t get caught was his motto, not don’t do it.

“Beat?” the man said, his eyebrows arching into his hairline.

“Never mind,” Austin fumbled over his words. He’d thought this resort was for guys into power exchanges, but these two were turning decidedly green.

“Young man, are you suggesting that whoever this mystery man is beats your friend over there?”

“Only when he wants it, and it’s probably none of your business. I don’t even know your name.”

Ryan’s massive presence was suddenly filling the bus aisle. “Austin, Mace asked me to bring you one of these Russian pie things. I’m not even going to attempt the name, or Luke and Tilden will subject me to an hour lecture on voiced and devoiced consonants.”

“They aren’t the cabbage ones?”

“I know better that that.” Ryan ruffled Austin’s already messy hair. “Would your new friends like some?” Ryan smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Ryan Fisher and a friend of this young scamp.” Ryan was so perfect in social settings, big and comfortable with a ready smile that could dazzle the most stubborn. “My partner and I are sure looking forward to a week in the sun. New England winters never seem to end.”

“I’m Glen Rhodes, and this is my partner Brian.” Glen shook Ryan’s hand. “The young man introduced himself as Austin.”

“That’s right. Our baby Austin.”

“Ryan,” Austin snorted.

“Don’t pout. You know you like it. I do know the score.”

Yes, Ryan would. Ryan for all his easy smiles and high rating on the most huggable index wasn’t a pushover and was acutely aware of what went on around him. He took his responsibilities as a dominant and as the Green Mountain Boys’ safety officer seriously. Austin was pretty sure Ryan would even get in Milton’s face if he thought something was wrong. Milton never really showed it, but Milton never showed much anyway, and he’d gone off and talked to Ryan alone a few times. 

“He’s most outgoing,” Glen said carefully.

“Not always. I think he’s thrilled to find someone else young enough to still remember his driving test. Some of our social gatherings are heavy on the older generation.”

“Ryan.” Austin tried to mock punch Ryan, but as usual Ryan was too quick and neatly pinned Austin’s hand behind his back. 

“Behave, boy,” Ryan growled. “I know you get tired of people talking about their high blood pressure medication.”

“Is it your first time here?” Glen asked, clearly trying to interrupt Ryan and Austin’s altercation.

“Yes,” Ryan said, gently patting Austin’s ass. “It seemed like a fun way to relax.”

“Oh it is,” Glen said with a smile of perfectly white teeth. “It’s educational also, lots of great seminars. I try to come at least once a year. I wouldn’t miss it, but it’s the first time for young Brian here.” Glen brushed Brian’s hair back and dropped a chaste kiss on his forehead. “He’s new to this lifestyle, so he’s understandably a little anxious. Aren’t you, honey?”

Brian nodded and blushed, pink rising up his cheeks.

“You’ll have lots of fun,” Glen murmured. “I told you that you’d make friends and see you’ve already made one.” Glen kissed Brian’s forehead again. “The transition can be tough for the new ones,” Glen said, turning his attention back toward Ryan. “I assume Austin is new to this lifestyle. He did introduce himself without his top.”

“Not really,” Ryan said evasively. “Perhaps our protocols are different than yours. I assume we will be briefed.”

“Oh, yes, the hotel director does a wonderful job. There is a program for all first time visitors with both a couples component and separate sessions for brats and tops. Brian is really looking forward to some of the brat activities. The boating and the riding shouldn’t be missed. It’s a great chance for them to stretch their wings without us hovering. All the guides and staff have extensive training.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Ryan said in a voice that Austin knew was a desperate effort not to break out laughing. Ryan’s tolerance for bratting was a notorious zero, but the firm hand clamped around Austin’s wrist suggested that Austin was safer pretending he didn’t know that fact. “I’m sure my boy will want to check out many of the activities. He can be enthusiastic.”

“I look forward to meeting him,” Glen said smoothly. “I’m sure we will all have a grand time.”

“I’m sure,” Ryan said, the picture of politeness with his teeth ground shut and his neck rigid. He smiled, a smile that Austin knew was false. “My boy will be missing me. It was nice to meet you, and Brian stop by once we’ve all rested and changed. We’re not shy about our lifestyle, and we’ll be happy to answer any questions. I know this all has to seem very strange.” The smile Ryan gave Brian was gentle and very genuine. “Come, Austin, your new friend looks tired.”

“What?” Austin asked as they made their way to the rear of the bus.

“Be good.”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“I know.” Ryan squeezed Austin’s shoulder. “You haven’t been around these types. I want you to stick close to Milton until we understand the protocol. He’s good at the diplomacy crap.”

“What types?”

“Discipline, I think. I’m prejudiced. Milton will be more fair about it, and maybe I read it wrong, but that was the vibe I was getting.” Ryan shook himself and smiled. “Never mind. It’s only a week and we’ll have fun.”