The Human Condition Ch. 06

I don't know how long I stayed away, but eventually I realized I was shaking from the cold. At least, that's the explanation I chose to believe in. I turned and opened the door and went back in. There was a man coming out of the restroom and though the hall was dark, one look told me it was Joe.

"There you are," he grinned. "We were beginning to get worried."

He moved closer and his face came into view, courtesy of the dim light of a wall sconce. For the first time in years, I really studied Joe. The long square jawed face was losing the boyishness it had held when I'd first laid eyes on it. Now it was thinner and showed off the bone structure that would keep him handsome for as long as he lived. The deep blue eyes were open and friendly, but there was also awareness that life didn't always go the way you wanted it to. His mouth still naturally curled up into a half smile, but little lines were starting to form at the corners. They didn't all seem to be from laughing.

Sometime in the last three years, Joe had become a man and I'd missed the transformation. Maybe it was because I'd been afraid to examine him too closely, that any scrutiny of him might have forced me to examine my own feelings, something I couldn't afford to do if I was to keep up my self-deception. But that was gone now, so I had nothing to lose by looking. Joe had changed. He was no longer the boy I'd fallen in love with. Now, I thought with a sense of unbelievable sadness, he was the man who was about to break my heart.

"Hey Mike," he said softly. "You are okay aren't you?"

I didn't think I was ever going to be okay again, but I nodded yes and he smiled.

"Good, listen Betsy and I are going to take off now. I just wanted to say goodbye."

We walked back to the table together. Betsy and Cam both had their coats on and the four of us walked out into the parking lot. We said our good-byes and I watched as Joe and Betsy walked over to his Bronco. Then I turned back to Cam.

At least, I thought, I'm not completely alone. But that realization depressed me. As a consolation prize, Cam left a lot to be desired. We got in his Jag and turned in the opposite direction as the Bronco.

I had been to the house we were heading to once before with Cam. I hadn't enjoyed myself. The man who owned it, Randall Ohle, was an architect and the house was more like a piece of sculpture, than a place where someone lived. It was all hard angles and odd shaped rooms. The entire interior was white with occasional splashes of red by way of a large pillow or a small rug tossed haphazardly on the floor. It was my idea of what an operating room would look like after a particularly bloody surgery.

But it wasn't the decor I objected to; it was the company. The first time I'd been there had been for a small dinner party. There were three other men there, including our host. They were all gay, but Cam had been the only one to bring a date. The others were older, established professionals who were all at the top of their chosen fields. They'd fussed over me like I was a child at my first grown up party and more than ever, I felt like Cam's trophy date. He had promised me this time it would be different. For one thing, this was supposed to be a large party.

He was right, it was a large party and it was different; it was worse. Now there were at least 20 men like the three I'd originally met. All of them had brought dates this time. I felt my face flush as I looked at my counterparts. We were all at least 10 years younger than our escorts and though the older men ran the gamut of body types and attractiveness, the boys were all of the same cut. Oh, we may have varied as to hair color, height and individual features, but the basic requirements were the same. We were all young, good looking and very well built.

I flashed Cam a look of pure outrage. He had the grace to look apologetic, but I could see he was trying to keep back a smile. He may or may not have known what kind of party this was going to be, but it was obvious that it amused, rather than offended him.

"You're a bastard," I whispered to him.

"I thought it was just a regular party," Cam protested, then he looked at my face and sighed as if bored. "Jesus, Mike, lighten up. I promise, I won't let anybody threaten your precious virtue."

"Oh fuck you," I was too angry to be eloquent.

"Yeah," he shook his head in mock sadness. "But not tonight, I'm willing to bet."

I had to stop myself from tossing my head, with its little ponytail that I was now regretting for the first time. Bad enough I was being treated as some cute airhead. I didn't need to act like one.

I turned and stomped over to the bar. I hadn't touched my drink at the last place. Now, getting numb seemed like a very good idea. I ordered a double martini and gulped it down in two swallows. I asked for another one and told them to keep the ice--no need to take up all that room in the glass.

An hour later, I had achieved my goal and then some. I stood on the edge of the crowd with my back against the wall and watched the show. I was still angry and what I was seeing didn't help any. The boy toys were all being played with. Hardly a one was able to stand still for a minute without some guy's hand feeling his butt or casually brushing a hand over a package that was all so carefully showcased in tight fitting pants.

It didn't make a difference to me that none of the younger guys seemed to mind this attention. If they were too stupid to see how humiliating this treatment was, than I'd have to be offended for all of them.

My disgust built a wall around me and nobody had the courage, or maybe it was just the inclination, to try and breach it. They left me to fume alone and that suited me fine. For the first two hours I was there, the only person I talked to was the bartender and that was just because I wanted to make sure my glass stayed full of the anesthetic I had chosen for the night.

At least my anger had driven my thoughts about Joe to the back of my brain. Perhaps that was my subconscious motivation in the first place. Anger is such a great mask for hiding pain.

But of course someone was bound to approach me eventually. He was a man I'd never met before. He introduced himself as Elliot. He looked like an Elliot, medium height and build with a receding hairline that less polite people would have labeled as bald. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and looked exactly like what he was, a banker. I thought I'd never seen anybody who looked so harmless.

He talked to me for a long time and fetched me a drink when mine was empty. He didn't seem to notice that I wasn't keeping up my end of the conversation, but just kept asking me questions and pretending he was interested in the answers until I capitulated and started to pay attention. Finally he took my hand and led me over to a sofa, where Cam was talking with a pretty young boy who didn't look old enough to be drinking the beer he held in his hand.

"Look who I've convinced to join us."

Elliot threw out his arm with a flourish then pushed me down on the sofa, which wasn't hard, because my legs were sending signals to my brain that standing was no longer a good idea. I sat down with a plop and what was left in my glass splashed over the rim and landed with a wet splat on the cushion beside me.

I grinned drunkenly. Served old Randall right, I thought. Who the hell would ever pick out a white couch?

Elliot sat next to me on the dry side and put his hand on my thigh and squeezed lightly. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Cam's face harden.

Served him right too; he had no reason to get pissed. Elliot was only treating me like all the other boy toys in the room. If Cam hadn't wanted that to happen then he should have thought before he brought me here.

I wiggled a little closer to Elliot to see how that went over. The effects were gratifying. Cam never changed his expression, but a muscle twitched in his temple and the look in eyes was one I'd learned to avoid. Then he smiled and I knew how angry he really was.

"Elliot," he spoke softly. "Andrew," he gestured to the boy, "tells me you've been together now for 6 weeks. That's a record for you isn't it?"

"You know me too well, Cam." Elliot laughed and turned to me. "Did you know your boyfriend is an old fraternity brother of mine?"

I tried not to look shocked, I'd have been willing to bet that Elliot had to be at least 10 years older than Cam. Apparently, I wasn't too successful at hiding my surprise.

Elliot shook his head in sadness and spoke. "I know what you're thinking, but we can't all have a picture up in our attic you know."

Cam and I both laughed politely at his joke. Andrew looked bewildered. Well, I'd already figured out that most of the younger guys here had been picked for their looks, not their minds.

"But Mike," Elliot went on. "You seem like a smart boy. I bet you already know it's not wise to judge a book by its cover."

This time I laughed in earnest, not because Elliot was funny, but because I saw the look on Cam's face. He looked like he was ready to kill his old fraternity buddy.

"So, fill me in," Cam once again was speaking to Elliot. "Is this it? Has true love finally tamed you?"

"Well, I don't know about love, but I'm certainly in lust with the boy." Elliot leaned over my lap to give Andrew a quick kiss on the mouth.

I thought the effect of the gesture was spoiled though when his hand slid into my crotch and gave a light squeeze. He leaned back before I could protest, though I could swear he winked at me as he sat back.

"Although that doesn't mean I'm selfish."

I wasn't sure I understood what Elliot was getting at, but Cam had no problem getting the implication.

"If I remember correctly, you never were," he agreed. "Greedy, maybe, but never selfish."

"Exactly," Elliot nodded. "So? What do you think?"

Cam looked at me. He could tell I didn't have a clue what they were talking about. I think that pleased him.

"What do you think Mike?" He asked. "Interested?"

I was too drunk to play these games. It pissed me off and I had no problem showing it. "Why don't you just tell me what the fuck you're talking about and maybe then, I'll know if I'm interested or not."

"Elliot is asking me it I'd be willing to trade you for Andrew for the night." He ignored my stunned face and looked at his friend.

"You were talking the whole night here, right? I mean, Randall may have a couple spare bedrooms if you're only interested in a quickie?"

He glanced back at me and decided he'd tortured me enough. "Forget it Elliot, Mike here, is a romantic. He doesn't have a wild bone in his whole body. Look at his face, he's stunned." Cam glanced at me himself and smiled, he was really enjoying himself. "I bet he doesn't get a wink of sleep thinking about your depraved suggestion."

It was his smile that did it. I hated that particular look of his. It told me that he thought I was a child and acting like one. In my drunken state, I decided it would be wonderful to just one time, be able to wipe it off his face.

"Ignore him, Elliot," I spoke carefully so I wouldn't slur my words. "I think it's a great idea."

Elliot started to laugh but I was barely paying attention. His wasn't the reaction I was interested in. Cam's face froze as our gazes locked, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes before he dropped the curtain. It had looked suspiciously like hurt and I almost backed down, but the moment passed and he turned from me to look at Andrew.

"Are you okay with this?" Cam asked him.

"He's fine," Elliot answered before the boy could open his mouth.

"Are you?" Cam ignored Elliot's answer and continued to look at Andrew.

"It's okay." Andrew said the only two words I ever heard him speak.

The next few minutes passed in an alcoholic blur. Only once did things come back into focus. We were getting our coats from one of the bedrooms when Cam turned to me and grasped my arm.

"You don't have to do this."

"What?" I was so drunk by this time I'd almost forgotten what had just happened.

"Jesus, you made your point. Just get your damn coat and come with me!" Cam gripped me tighter and I struggled to get free. He let go suddenly and I fell back on the bed awkwardly.

"Shit," Cam said disgustedly, "you are in no shape to make any decision about this right now."

"Fuck off!" I yelled. "I already have a goddamn Daddy, Cam, I don't need you telling me what to do."

"Oh this is such bullshit. You don't give a damn about Elliot, or me if the truth were known. You're just pissed because 'Golden Boy' found a new playmate and is dumping you for the little woman."

I lay there stunned.

"Yeah, he told me while you were gone pouting somewhere and Betsy was in the bathroom. He was so happy, he couldn't keep the secret to himself."

"I hate you."

"Swell, now get your ass up and let's go home." He swatted me on my shoulder and got up. I didn't move.

"I'm not going with you."

"You're not still thinking about going with Elliot," he rolled his eyes.

"Considering the alternative, I think it's a great idea."

"Fine, but don't come whining to me when things don't go your way. Elliot isn't the little milquetoast you think he is. He won't take your crap the way I do. In fact, there's something about him that's..."

The argument would have continued but Elliot and Andrew picked that moment to show up at the bedroom door. I leered drunkenly at Elliot and blew him a kiss, knowing that would enrage Cam even more than he already was. I'd made another discovery that night as I'd leaned against the wall getting hammered. Whatever else happened, Cam and I were through.

And now it seemed that Cam recognized that too. He spun on his heels and stormed out of the room as Andrew hesitated and then followed meekly behind him. Elliot helped me off the bed and we made our way out of the house, to his car.

The roads were slick with icy rain and Elliot had to concentrate on his driving. That was fine with me. I was in no mood for conversation. As soon as Cam had left, I'd started to regret my decision to go with this guy. I'd done a lot of stupid things before, but grudge sex wasn't one of them. Elliot seemed like a nice enough guy. At least he was no worse than any of the other men Cam hung out with. But I was not attracted to him at all.

It took us about 25 minutes to get to house which was located about 10 miles outside the city limits. By the time we pulled into his driveway, I'd decided. No matter how foolish it made me look, I was going to have to tell him I'd changed my mind. I hoped I had enough cash in my wallet to cover a taxi, because I figured there was no way Elliot would be willing to take me back to my place after I admitted he didn't turn me on. He turned off the car and I screwed up my courage and started to speak.

Surprisingly, he was very nice about it. In fact, he was so sympathetic that I felt even worse about turning him down. He insisted that he would drive me back to town; all he asked was that I wait for a few minutes while he ran in the house to let out his dog. He asked me to come in with him and, since I already felt like I'd treated him like shit, I agreed.

There was no way that I was in the least bit threatened by this man anyway, regardless of the warning Cam had given me. For one thing, I was pretty sure that was just Cam blowing smoke up my ass in an effort to get me to give in and go home with him. For another, I had 7 inches and maybe 40 pounds on this guy. There was no way he could make me do anything I wasn't agreeable to.

The house surprised me a little. It was more rustic and smaller than what I'd pictured Elliot's taste to be. It was also quite isolated. We'd had to go about a half mile down a dirt road to get to it. He saw my surprise and explained that this was a cabin he owned for weekend getaways and holidays. When he flipped on the light, I saw he'd been prepared for a romantic evening. There were logs in the fireplace waiting to be lit and an ice bucked sat on the coffee table with a bottle of champagne already chilling. I felt worse than ever about pimping out on him.

He let the dog, an old asthmatic beagle, out the back door. When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying two drinks. I'd sobered up a little and the last thing I needed, or wanted for that matter, was more alcohol, but I was not about to refuse his hospitality. I forced myself to drink the whole thing.

We sat there for about 10 minutes and then the dog scratched at the door. Elliot went back to the kitchen to let him in. I stood up to get ready to leave. Damn, but that last drink had been a mistake. My head was swimming. Elliot came back into the room as I was looking around for my coat.

"Hey let me show you the cabin before we go," he said. "I did a lot of the renovations myself and I'm pretty proud of them."

I followed him into two bedrooms and made appreciative noises at the tile work in the bathroom. Then he opened a fourth door and I followed him in.

It was dark and he leaned around me to reach the light switch behind the door. As he did, he pushed the door closed and I heard it click shut. I was having a hard time concentrating. I felt like I was becoming drunker by the second and my eyes weren't focusing.

Elliot found the wall switch and pushed it up. The light blinded me and I instinctively closed my eyes.

"Not feeling to well?" Elliot asked softly. "Well, we'll see if we can do something about that."

I opened my eyes and looked around. Oh shit. It was a dungeon. Only, not like in a castle; but a dungeon never the less. The walls and floor were white and shiny slick like they were covered in some kind of plastic. I noticed a drain in the center of the room and there was a hose attached to the wall. But I only noticed this as a sidebar.

What really captured my attention was the equipment that was housed in the room. I could probably spend pages describing it, but I won't. It's enough to say that there were enough chains, ropes, whips and some nasty looking wooden scaffolding in the corner to give me nightmares for the next six months. The only furniture I actually recognized was a single bed in the corner that was covered with a plastic sheet.

As bad as it was though, I wasn't scared. I was still thinking my size and youth would probably be enough to change Elliot's mind if he tried any tricks on me. Instead, I just stood there and looked at him.

Both of him, I blinked hard, but there were still two Elliot's in front of me although neither of them seemed to be able to stand still. And then I realized, Elliot wasn't moving, I was.

"What did you give me?" I asked, though my thickening tongue made speech difficult.

"Nothing terrible, just a mild tranquilizer to make you a little more amenable to spending some time with me."

I watched as both of the Elliots made their way over to a cabinet attached to the wall. He opened it and took out a heavy leather whip.

Instinctively I backed up and stumbled as my feet refused to move the way I was ordering them to. I fell to my knees and when I raised my head, I saw Elliot standing over me.

"You rancid piece of shit," he hissed, "Did you really think you could get away with waving your cock in my face and then changing your mind? You should have listened to Cam, I am not somebody who ever takes crap from anybody and certainly not from a boy like you."

"Wha' do you think you'll ac... accomplisssh?" My words were so slurred they were barely recognizable, but I was fighting desperately not to lose consciousness.

"Don't you know?" Elliot sounded amused. "For such a smart boy, Mike, you aren't very perceptive." He placed his hand on my wobbling head and grabbed my hair, forcing me to look up at him. "I'm going to teach you a lesson and after I think you've learned it, I'm going to fuck you."