Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (36 page)

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Authors: Gillibran Brown

Tags: #power exchange, #domination and discipline, #Gay Romance, #gay, #domestic discipline, #memoirs of a houseboy, #BDSM, #biographical narrative, #domination and submission romance, #menage

BOOK: Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy
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“Look, Vince, if you’ve got a point to make, then make it, because I’m bored of this conversation.”

“You’re on a timer, Geordie boy. Your novelty value is nearing the end. The minute you hit thirty, or before, you’ll be dumped in favour of fresh new candy. Shane and Dick will find a sweet new hole to poke. That’s the buzz for older gay couples like them, young flesh to help keep their sex life interesting.”

“It won’t be your hole, though, will it,
Cockney boy
, not according to your logic.” I stood up. “You’re older than me, and well poked I bet.”

“True.” He also stood up, leaning over the table. “Still, I do have a great body and I have attributes you don’t have. I’m from good stock. I have a career I’m not embarrassed to own and I’m a brilliant scene player, which apparently you’re not.” He gave a smile. “Best of all, I’m not an epileptic, so I don’t need babysitting all the time. Your boyfriends can’t even go on holiday anymore, because they’re afraid to leave you on your own. That has to be a real drag for them.”

“I’m flattered, Vince. You and Jak seemed to have spent a lot of time talking about me.”

“Not you, housework brat, your meal ticket boyfriends. I reckon if I try hard enough, I can win over Dick, and according to Jak, winning over Dick is the key to winning over Shane. That’s how you wheedled your way in. Dick’s a nice guy, but Shane is,” he gave a low whistle, “something special. I like powerful men.”

I flinched as he reached out and patted me condescendingly on the upper arm.

“Don’t worry though. I won’t let them kick you out of the house straight away. I quite fancy having an epileptic sock washer at my beck and call for a while.”

Pat saved me the trouble of socking Vince on the jaw. He announced his presence with a loud cough and a breezy greeting, making us both start.

“Good morning, boys.” He coughed again. “Goodness me, but Leo has been a bit heavy handed with the potpourri oil in the hall. The scent is quite overpowering.”

“I’d have thought scent was right up your alley, Pat.”

Vince spoke the words in a cordial tone and with a smile on his face, but there was a clear insult intended.

Pat smiled back, unperturbed. “Oh it is, dear, but I prefer something a little more subtle and floral in tone.”

“Something like pansy you mean?”

“My all time favourite. How very clever of you to guess. Becoming a peroxide blonde hasn’t diminished your intellect at all.”

Vince’s smile slipped, revealing the sneer beneath. “Well, I can’t stand chatting to you girls all morning. I’ve got things to do.” He moved away from the table, but not before detaching part of the completed puzzle with his hand, pushing the pieces to the floor.

“Prick.” I glared after him.

As soon as he’d gone, Pat turned to me. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. How about you?”

“He doesn’t bother me at all. I’m used to the Vince’s of this world. He gives me a dirty look every time I pass him, making sure no one else notices of course.”

“Bastard!”

“Indeed,” said Pat gravely.

I stooped down and began gathering up the puzzle pieces. I’d said I was fine, but I wasn’t. My hands were shaking. I hated to admit it, but Vince unnerved me. His full on and yet subtle malevolence reminded me of Penny. I rarely, if ever, bested her. She always came out on top. What was it about me that seemed to antagonise certain people to the point where they wanted to kick me to the kerb?

“I’d help you, Gilli, but I’m afraid once I got down there I’d never get up again. My knees aren’t what they were.”

“No worries, won’t take me a sec.” I finished gathering the pieces together and stood up, dropping them onto the table.

“We’ll soon put them back in place.”

I nodded.

“He has upset you. I can see. Listen, Gilli. Vince couldn’t win Dick, or Shane, not if they were prizes in a raffle and he had all the tickets.”

“You heard?”

“Yes. I was there for some moments. Vince’s good looks mask an unattractive personality. He doesn’t believe for a moment that he has a chance with Dick or Shane. He was baiting you for the sheer vindictive sport of it. I know his sort. He might enjoy the sensual pleasures of physical masochism, but in essence he’s a sadistic bully who gets a kick out of inflicting emotional pain, especially on those he sees as being beneath him.”

“You should tell Leo about him disrespecting you. He’ll kick him out.”

“I suspect Leo is having a lot of fun with him at the moment, and Mike too. Who am I to spoil it for them? They’re not fools. Vince will eventually slip up and reveal his real nature. You and I should feel honoured that he’s chosen to reveal it to us so soon. I offend his preferred vision of gay masculinity. You offend him in the sense of having something he feels he should have.”

“What?”

“The time and attention of two fine men.”

I sat back down at the table. “I’m pretty sure Leo and Mike give him plenty of attention.”

“Yes, but not around the clock.” Pat also sat down.

“I think he fancies Shane.”

“Shane’s a handsome man, a tough one too, which is part of the attraction for young men like Vince. I’ve seen it all before.”

“Because of your partner?”

Pat nodded. “Bill had dozens of hot young guns like Vince at his beck and call. They flocked to him. I didn’t mind. It was all part and parcel of life with him. Most of them knew how to play the game and they also knew when the game was over. Every now and again, though, someone came along who wanted more than was on offer, someone like our blonde friend. They want the game to go on. They want it to extend beyond a scene’s length. They think you have what they ought to have. They want domesticity as well as domination.”

“Did you really not mind that Bill had sex with other guys? Dick and Shane only ever have sex with each other, but I still get jealous sometimes, about them playing in front of other people.”

“I had my moments, but on the whole, no. Maybe because I was older and wiser when I met him. I knew the lay of the land. I knew what lifestyle Bill was into. He could no more give up being a Dom than I could give up being me. It was a vital aspect of his identity. I could handle it, because I was the one who went home with Bill. It was me who shared his bed at night. It was me he was truly intimate with. He chose me and me alone to share his everyday life, just as Dick and Shane have chosen you to share their lives. Remember that.”

“HELL’S BLOODY BELLS!”

The bellowed curse from the hall made us both almost jump out of our skins.

It was Leo. I instinctively knew there was only one explanation for his explosive peal of emotion. The prawn prank had been rumbled. I leapt up and ran out into the hall.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen - Stink

 

 

I was right. Leo was standing by the open cupboard door with a look of sheer horror on his face. He had Genny clasped to his chest, as if afraid some alien creature might leap out and seize her. I suspected it was she who had led him to the ‘source’ of the stink.

My body was practising bondage knots, using my intestines as a rope, but I acted my arse off, playing the part of mystified for all I was worth.

“What’s up, Leo? Why the cursing? You don’t want to offend Pat. He is a proper sort of gentleman after all.”

Leo glared at me. “This is no time for payback, Gilli. That smell, the smell you claimed was the Christmas tree, well, it isn’t.”

“What is it then?”

“Something in there.” He nodded his head in the direction of the cupboard. “Genny alerted me. She was pawing at the door.”

I knew it. Bad kitty.

Pat arrived on scene. “What on earth’s the matter…” he broke off, recoiling as the smell registered. He put a hand to his face. “Oh my, what is that?”

“I don’t know, Pat, but I’m going to find out.” Leo shoved Genny in the lounge and closed the door on her. She was most put out, bawling loud protests. It was her discovery and she wanted in on it.

Leo’s ding-dong shout had reached every corner of his grand mansion, acting like a call to arms.

Shane, Dick and Jak came hurrying down the stairs, the latter still in his pj’s. Ian followed, dressed only in leather trousers. I wondered if he’d slept in them, perhaps they were too tight to remove without medical help, or maybe his lower half had actually evolved into leather instead of skin.

Vince came from the direction of the kitchen, holding a piece of toast in his hand. One whiff of the appetite suppressing smell guaranteed it would never be eaten. If the smell could somehow be bottled it would make a fortune as a weight loss product. One sniff and you wouldn’t feel like eating for a week.

The only people who didn’t show up were Mike and Trina. Some people can sleep through anything.

“Christ! What is that stench?” Vince cautiously peered inside the cupboard, his nose wrinkling. “It smells like something has died in there.”

Jak peered over his shoulder. “It’s revolting, like bad drains.”

“I doubt it’s the drains, otherwise it would be all over the house, not localised.” Shane grimaced. “It reminds me of something, but I can’t quite pin it down.”

I hurriedly ventured a theory. “It could be a dead mouse.”

“There are no mice in my house.” Leo gave me a frosty look.

I turned the finger of suspicion on poor Genny. “Gen could have brought one in from outside without you noticing. Maybe she chased it in there at some point, and it got trapped and starved to death. The poor little thing.”

Dick caressed my shoulder. “Don’t upset yourself, hun.”

Leo issued a snooty denial. “Genny is far too well bred to bring vermin into the house. Besides, there’s more to that pong than a dead mouse. I can’t have my guests turning up to be greeted with such a diabolical smell. They’ll wonder what they’ve come to.”

“Knowing your mates, some of them might like it, if they have an olfaction kink.”

“If you must speak, Gilli, then at least speak sense. This is no time for your smart-alecky remarks.”

“Pardon me for breathing. I was just trying to lighten the situation.”

“There is nothing light about that smell. I’m going to find out what it is.”

Switching on the cupboard light, Leo took a deep breath and launched himself inside.

I had to cover my mouth with my hand to hide an inappropriate grin as his gag reflex kicked in, much as mine had earlier.

“My God.”
Gagging sound
. “It’s even worse in here.”
More gagging sounds.
“What the hell is it?”
Dry retching sound.

To my chagrin, Ian took it upon himself to address Shane, with a strong note of disapproval in his accented voice. “Your boy seems to think this is amusing for some reason.”

“So I see.” Shane gave me a frosty look. “Like to share the joke, Gilli?”

“It’s just, you know, Leo gagging, it sounds funny.”

He failed to see any comic potential in the situation. Shaking his head, he said, “your sense of humour leaves a lot to be desired. It’s time you grew out of schoolboy reactions.”

I took my hand away from my face, adopting a serious demeanour. To cover my discomfort I called to Leo. “Found anything yet?”

“No!”

We all stepped back, as a torrent of shoes, boots, wellies, umbrellas, hiking sticks, sports rackets, bags, coats, scarves and jackets flew out into the hall. Leo was clearly leaving no stone, or shoe, unturned.

“Crab shells,” said a thoughtful voice.

Much as I love Dick, if I’d had a gun I would have shot him dead before he could elaborate on those two words. Unfortunately, I was unarmed.

He continued. “I’ve been trying to think what the smell reminds me of, and it’s rotten crab shells.” He turned to me. “Do you remember, Gilli, that time we went on holiday and you forgot to empty the pedal bin in the kitchen. We’d had fresh crab for dinner the night before we went. The shells were in the bin for a week. The stench was utterly horrendous. Quite sickening. We had to throw away the bin in the end, and the smell lingered for ages in the kitchen.”

I felt justified in issuing a strong denial. After all, I
knew
the smell in Leo’s cupboard had nothing to do with crabs, shellfish, yes, crabs, no. “It doesn’t smell crabbish at all, not a bit. I should know. I was the one who had to get rid of the shells and try to clean the bin.”

“Rotten crab shell is right.” Shane sided with Dick. “I knew it reminded me of something.”

Pat joined in. “Even if it isn’t crab, the smell definitely has a brinish taint to it. It reminds me of the boats that land their catch at Brighton and Newhaven fish market, especially on a hot day. Horrible.”

I ran with the fish theory. “Is your sailing jacket in there, Leo? Maybe you’ve left fish bait in one of the pockets and it’s gone off?”

“I’m a sports sailor, not a fisherman, Gilli, and even if I was, why on earth would I put bait in my pocket for heaven’s sake? I’d keep it in a bait box.”

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