Chivalry is on Life Support Ch. 23

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Cuckolding and emasculation of Medieval Lit professor.
2.2k words
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Part 23 of the 33 part series

Updated 05/10/2024
Created 04/06/2024
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As I led Neil through the entrance hall into the living room, I saw him look up at the two canes, riding crop and strap hanging on the wall. He said to me, smiling, "You're such a a medievalist, Walter, you even have instruments of torture as wall art. I love it! They're kind of modern though, aren't they? I guess Catherine's Wheels and Pears of Anguish are pretty hard to come by, huh?"

I laughed nervously in response. "I couldn't fit my rack on the wall, ha ha."

When I brought Neil into the living room, Brooke got up off the couch and kissed him warmly on the cheek. "Hi, Neil. Long time, no see. Thanks for coming."

"Great to see you too, Brooke. Thanks for having me"

I stammered, "Neil...uh, I mean, sir. I'd like to introduce you to an old family friend of Brooke's and now mine too, of course. Neil Lawson, please meet Luke Hanover."

As Luke vigorously shook Neil's hand (the first time he shook mine, I thought he would break it), he said, "Oh come on, prof, I'm a lot more than just an old family friend, aren't I? You see, Neil, I was married to Brooke earlier, but we're still pretty close. Right, baby girl? Come sit on big Luke's lap."

Luke sat down on the couch and patted his lap. Brooke and I exchanged glances, and I saw Neil watching the three of us closely, no doubt trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Brooke sat down on Luke's knee, and he wrapped his arm around her waist in a proprietary manner. "Did you offer Neil a drink?", Luke said to me.

"I'm sorry. Neil, I mean, sir, may I get you a drink? We have wine and beer. Or I can also make you a cocktail?"

"I'm not sure what's happening here, Walter. But you certainly don't have to call me sir."

"That's where I beg to differ with you, Neil. You know the kind of stuff that your friend Walter writes about and teaches about. The book he's working on now is all about cuckolding and humiliation. Isn't that so, prof?"

"Yes, sir. Much of it, at least," I replied, staring down at my painted toes.

"Well, I'm trying to help Walter out with his research for his book. Walter told Brooke that he feels it's important that he experience firsthand what a submissive cuckold goes through, so his book will have... What's the word you used, babe?"

"Credibility," answered Brooke.

"That's right, credibility. As someone who knows a fair amount about putting cucks in their place, I'm trying to lend Walter a hand. And since he's going to be the one serving the rest of us dinner tonight, we've all agreed that it's important that he show respect to the people he's serving. It's all part of making sure that his book is credible. Isn't that right, prof?"

"Yes, sir."

Neil looked confused, but had a slight smile on his face as he replied, "I see, I guess. Well, in that case, I'll have a Yuengling, too."

"Good man. Walter looks down his nose at Yuengling. He says he's just not a big fan of beer, but I think it's really more of a political thing. Walter doesn't approve of the politics of the brewery's owner." Luke was correct about that, but it was certainly nothing I had ever shared with him. Perhaps Brooke had; I know she felt similarly to me. Or perhaps it was just a deduction he made based on his hypersensitivity about such matters (the fact that his hypersensitivity was often correct, and therefore perhaps somewhat justified at times, was a separate matter, and one I didn't like to dwell on).

Neil replied, "I don't really keep track of any of that stuff. I just like their beer. It's got a good flavor and it's not too filling."

Luke said, "You sound a lot more sensible than your friend here." Then to me, firmly: "Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Get the man a beer and get me another one while you're at it."

"Yes, sir," I replied, as I hurried off to the kitchen.

When I returned to the living room with the beers, I heard Luke ask Neil, "So, did you also grow up in the Northeast like your buddy?"

"I grew up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. I did my undergrad and grad school at Duke. I sort of stayed local."

"You're from the south. That's good! You don't seem like one of those coastal snobs who think they're better than everybody else."

Neil smiled, "Well, North Carolina is a coastal state, too."

"But it's the South. Not like those elitist snobs where your friend comes from in the Northeast. Do you study cuckolds, too?"

Neil laughed. "No, I focus mostly on 20th century British and American fiction. There have been plenty novels with cuckold protagonists in that period, though. I think of Joyce's Ulysses, Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier, Saul Bellow's Herzog. There are plenty of other examples in modernist fiction, but it's nothing compared to the medieval period Walter studies. But Walter tells me that cuckolding fiction has become huge on the Internet, and that some of the contemporary pop fiction is actually of pretty high quality. I find the subject interesting, in the way all love triangles are interesting, but not to the same extent Walter does."

"Well, that's probably because you're not a submissive cuck like he is," said Luke, with his impeccable logic.

Neil laughed, somewhat shyly, and said, "I'm learning some things about my good friend I wasn't aware of before." I felt Neil's glance shift over to me but I couldn't look him in the eye.

"I bet there's a lot more you don't know about your ole buddy. You look like you play sports, Neil. I play in an amateur football league myself and lift weights."

"I was on a nationally ranked swim team as an undergrad at Duke. I still love to swim when I can. There's not a lot of good options in this town, unfortunately. Even the college pool is pretty small and often crowded. I lift weights a bit too, just to keep in shape."

"I could tell by looking at you that you were an athlete. Not like tubby here. Although he's been losing some weight lately. He just needs some encouragement. I've been giving him a hand there too, haven't I, prof?"

"Yes, sir."

"I tell you what, Neil. I built a 30' by 60' gunite pool at my house out in the country last year. This summer, you can come out and swim in it anytime you'd like."

"Thirty by sixty! That's huge! That's very kind of you, Luke. I may just take you up on that generous offer."

"Let's plan on it. We'll have some great parties this summer."

"I'm looking forward to it. What do you do, Luke?"

"I'm a plumber. I run what's now the largest residential plumbing company in the region. We're expanding into commercial plumbing, too."

"That's awesome. My dad was a master plumber. I spent many hours during my teenage years working as his assistant on jobs."

That was something I never knew about Neil. I was watching this unfolding lovefest with a mixture of incredulity and distress when the doorbell rang again.

I hurried to answer it, and saw an attractive dirty blonde, slightly chubby perhaps (at least compared to my fit, lean lady), but with nice curves and very pretty features. "Hello, miss. You must be Laura. Welcome to our home. May I please take your coat. I'm..."

"Wait, don't tell me," she said, looking me up and down and zeroing in on my toenails and then on my crotch. She chuckled. "You must be Walter. Nice to meet you." She shook my hand. "Now, I've got to see this Luke."

"Of course, right this way, miss." She giggled again. She probably wasn't accustomed to being addressed as "miss," at least outside of patrons trying to get her attention at the restaurant, especially by a man nearly 15 years older than her.

"Hey, Laura. Thanks for coming." Brooke got off Luke's lap to kiss and hug her friend.

Looking back and forth between Luke and Neil, Laura said, "Wow, two good looking guys in the room." Smiling at Luke, she continued, "But you must be Luke, unless Brooke is on super close terms with all three of the men here." She laughed.

So, obviously Brooke had shared quite a bit with Laura about her relationship with Luke. It was still unclear how much she had shared with her about MY relationship with Luke. I suspected that she had shared far more than I was comfortable with, however. In retrospect, my concerns really didn't matter, as my status in the relationship was pretty unambiguous to everyone present by the time the evening was over.

After Laura shook Luke's hand, she turned to Neil and, smiling flirtatiously, said, "Well, isn't anyone going to introduce me to this gentleman?"

I said, "My apologies. Of course. Laura, this is my..."

Luke interrupted, "Prof, didn't I tell you your first responsibility is to offer the lady a drink? And remember the right way to address her. It's not Laura to you, it's miss or Miss Laura. Once you find out what she wants to drink, Brooke and I will introduce her to my new friend, Neil." Luke patted Neil warmly on the back.

"Yes, sir. My apologies. What would you like to drink, miss? We have beer, wine, or I could make you a cocktail."

Barely looking at me, Laura said, "I'll have a glass of red wine. Whatever Brooke is drinking is fine. Thanks."

"Yes, miss." I added lamely, "Right away," before leaving the room quickly to fulfill her request.

The dinner was more of the same. Luke sat at the head of the table, naturally, with Brooke to his right and Laura to his left. Neil sat next to Laura. When I down sat at all (gingerly, due to the soreness of my bottom), I sat next to Brooke, across from Neil. I, of course, served the various courses, but also was expected to keep everyone's glasses filled with wine, water or beer. Luke even suggested it would be a nice touch for me to fold everyone's napkins when they got up to use the bathroom, or or any other reason. I did receive a few compliments on the meal, but was up so frequently I found it difficult to get into the flow of the conversation. I was present enough to notice Laura's persistent flirtation with Neil, and what seemed like his receptiveness to it.

One of the more humiliating moments of the evening came when I attempted to pour myself a second glass of the Pinot Noir Brooke and Laura were enjoying. They were already on their second bottle, and Luke and Neil were on at least their fourth beer. Everyone but me seemed to be getting mildly tipsy and increasingly uninhibited.

As I began to pour my glass, Luke said, "Uh uh, prof. Two glasses is not on your diet. Neither is dessert. I'm surprised I have to remind you of that after earlier today."

Brooke tried to subtly redirect the conversation by interjecting, "Walter needs to look after his girlish figure. He's lost almost 15 pounds over the last few months, you know."

Laura was not to be redirected, however. "That's great, but what did you mean by 'earlier today'?", she asked Luke.

"I guess you didn't notice his expression whenever he sits down, sort of a grimace," said Luke.

Neil said to Luke, "Now I understand what you meant about giving him a hand with his diet." And then to me: "I guess it's always a good thing when art has a practical purpose as well, right pal?" He laughed.

Mortified, I looked downwards and simply said, "Let me clean the table and then I'll bring your desserts."

As I left the dining room, I heard Laura say, "I don't understand. What do you mean about art having a practical purpose?"

Neil answered, "You must have missed it hanging in the hall. I'll show you later."

I heard boisterous laughter as I plated the strawberry shortcake in the kitchen, rebelliously treating myself to a large spoon of my freshly whipped cream. "I'll show him," I thought to myself, pathetically.

When I served dessert, Neil said, looking at me, "I really hadn't noticed, Walter, but you have lost some weight. It looks good."

Laura, visibly a bit drunk, added, "Those pants you're wearing show off your figure. They look good on you, even though they're a little bulky." She giggled, and the others sort of tittered. She then said to Brooke, "He did a great job with dinner. Maybe after he loses another 15 pounds or so, you can buy him a little maid's uniform. I bet he'd look cute in it." More titters.

"Let me open another bottle of wine," I said, quickly leaving the room.

Behind me, I heard Luke say, "I think you might be onto something there, Laura. Thanks for the suggestion."

More laughter. Would this interminable evening ever end?

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