The Artists - 15. Three Bikes, a Wardrobe, and a White Picket Fence

The other man was taller, but had less hair on his head. What was there had been cut to less than a half-inch crew cut. His fair skin, so smooth in their youth, was splotchy with liver spots. The tired, sleepy eyes drew him closer.

They kissed.

Jim recoiled from the reek of acrid tobacco fumes filling the man’s mouth. Black viscous ooze dribbled out of the corners of the man’s mouth, smoke puffed out his nostrils with every breath, and a hideous red tumor began to grow out of his neck.

Unable to keep his desire in check, they kissed, again.

Jim knelt to the carpeted floor and began to undo the other’s belt. The slacks were brown wool, hiked up over the man’s bubble belly. Jim slowly lowered the zipper and the reek from a soiled diaper poured out the hole.

Jim’s eyes flashed opened. He was in the hotel room with Tommy’s naked body stretched out along his. Today was the day he was to meet his first love, but the nightmares persisted. No one had said anything about Eddy, whether he was in failing health or had a wife and family—that was possible because they had an affair of youthful passions and parted swearing to meet after graduate school.

Yet, were those passions strong enough to keep Eddy true to his word. He was in his early seventies. How many children could he have? What about grandchildren? Was there a great-grandchild or two? What would his children say when he told them he was returning to his first love, a man?

As his eyes swept over Tommy’s still youthful body, he wondered if loving Eddy was worth the effort of reinvigorating their relationship. Was it possible to find something between them? It had been over fifty years, a long time in anyone’s book.

Tommy had already given him the feelings of youth, the excitement of having a lover whose heart melted into your own, and the boy had a slight build to match his own. Eddy had been taller, eventually maturing into the top in the relationship as Jim’s inner nature submitted to his more muscular lover. It had been a slow, gradual process that neither was fully aware of until it was blatantly obvious who was meant to be fucked.

Was Eddy still capable of fulfilling Jim’s needs? A lot of seventy-year-old men needed pills to get them going or they were simply incapable of producing the amount of arousal necessary for insertion. The mind is easily distracted and if you’re on the edge of incapability, distraction is the last thing you need. Satisfaction was still possible through artificial means, but that wasn’t the same as having the real thing where it belonged and Tommy could provide the real thing every time.

So, it was with trepidation that Jim entered the deli a few hours later unsure whether his old love was capable, willing, or even free to rejoin him in an attempt to reawaken the love of their youth. He saw Donnie sitting at a table by the window with the back of an elderly man facing him. He was less than twenty feet away and it was clear something was dreadfully wrong with the man he was to meet.

When Jim arrived at the table the signs of the stroke were unmistakable. The entire left side of Eddy Sandstrum sagged toward the floor. The speech was slurred and wet. One eye seemed to have a mind of its own as it stared off to the left. It was the simple gold ring on the third finger of the left hand that said more than anything, though.

“Hello, Eddy,” Jim said as he pulled out the chair between the other two men.

Agony was Ben’s first awareness as sleep left him until the stifling heat of the wardrobe took over. Muscles screamed at him, but the saliva soaked sock stuffed in his mouth stopped him from answering. The thick dog collar around his neck—tied with a cord to his bound wrists and ankles—was almost too tight forcing him to breathe softly and slowly as if he was asleep.

He had been asleep. At least he thought he’d been asleep. Maybe his mind simply stopped working, overloaded from the pain shooting through his muscles because of being doubled over and stuffed into the bottom of the wardrobe. He had to have been asleep as the alternative meant he was going crazy.

He had been with Jason only a few days. This was only the second day of classes. His first class was at one. He hoped—could he still hope; was hoping an option—Jason would release him in time to clean up a little.

Maybe he should try to sleep some more. He had no idea of the time, whether it was already morning or if only a few hours had passed since falling asleep. That is, if he had been asleep. He couldn’t remember a dream. Didn’t you have to dream? Maybe he hadn’t been asleep.

He wanted out, he was willing to do anything to stop the pain, but there was no way for him to signal his tormentor. He was at the mercy of a sadist of incomparable talent at inflicting mental and physical torture.

Most of all he wanted everything to go back to the way it was. He wanted to go back to the beginning before he was a thief. He wanted? He wanted what?

Lost in the internal dialogue, he slept.

Casey sat at the lunch table trying to ignore Six and Cheri who seemed to be getting on a lot better than he expected, but then Six knew Cheri’s real name was Tim and knew that only her outward appearance was female. That was a whole lot different from when he was in the same position. Then it was a secret not to be revealed until the correct moment, the moment when sex was inevitable. The moment everyone was going to use to laugh at him in the future. Once again, he’d been made the butt of their jokes and now Six and Cheri were obviously sharing what they knew about his deformity, inability to have meaningful sex, and the disgusting fat hanging from his body.

He stared at what remained of the sandwich he’d made, anything other than their furtive glances at him, their snickering, and their whispers. How could they like each other so well when they’d just met? Well, they were likeable, both of them. He’d easily made friends with each of them, but now they were laughing at him; making fun of his naivety, obesity, and desire to put any guy’s cock in his mouth.

Casey stood up and hurried to the nearest restroom. It was unoccupied and he went into the stall. He’d never done this before and wasn’t quite certain he could actually do it considering what he’d done with Brent’s cock, but he leaned over the sink and stuck his finger down his throat.

This time he concentrated on the gag reflex, wishing the contents of his stomach up into his mouth and down into the toilet. It was horrible, sickening, and turned his stomach even more. He stood away and the auto-flush mechanism took over forever removing one-third of his daily nutritional requirements.

He sat down on the toilet and thought about what he’d done. He was going to show them that he could overcome being a hideous lump of flesh. It was quite simple, actually. He would live off his excessive fat reserves. He’d drink water, of course, maybe take some vitamins—his mother had been very strict about him taking vitamins no matter what diet he was on—but every meal he ate was going to be forced back up.

Being on kitchen duty he’d have to eat regularly or Euphorbia might suspect something, but when he got to his room everything would come up.

It all sounded too complicated. His subterfuge could be discovered at any moment and it’d be off to the shrink, again. Suicidal fat kid tries to starve himself; that would go over like a lead balloon at the scholarship board meeting, if they hadn’t already decided to move him out because of the suicide attempt.

Casey got to his feet and went back out to the lounge. Six and Cheri weren’t there and Casey suspected Six had taken the other boy up to his room. Maybe they’d play with each other’s dicks; at least both of them had real dicks. There was still time to relax before his next class, so he flopped down onto one of the sofas and thought of Cheri’s cock.

“Hey Casey, how’re you doin’?” A voice asked as the sofa moved a bit from another body depressing its sitting surface.

Casey opened his eyes and looked at Eric. He hadn’t had a lot of contact with the professor, so he wasn’t certain how he should respond.

“Okay,” Casey said, opting for a neutral response.

“I saw Six and Cheri heading toward campus,” Eric said. “I didn’t know they knew each other.”

“I introduced them,” Casey said. He laid his head back against the sofa and shut his eyes.

“And you didn’t expect them to hit it off so well, either,” Eric said.

“No,” Casey said. He looked at his watch and knew he was going to be late to his class unless he hurried, which meant sweating, which led to stinking.

“Don’t worry about your class, we may need you in the board meeting in a little bit,” Eric said. “Just sit here and me or Peter will come out and get you.”

“You’re going to send me to the residences, aren’t you?” Casey asked. He looked at the older man and wondered if now was a good time to tell them he didn’t want to be an artist and only did the computer graphics piece to get the scholarship.

“There are a lot of options available,” Eric said.

Casey nodded his head. A lot of options meant getting kicked out of Charles House. Well, he didn’t belong here anyway, so maybe now was a good time to get out.

“Gentlemen, I’m surprised we’ve gotten this far without serious legal ramifications bearing heavily on the foundation,” Bud McDonald said a few moments after Eric entered the room. “Eric, why didn’t you advise me of the situation with Benjamin Sorenson last spring; or was that an issue Jim took care of on his own little lonesome?”

“Jim took care of it or tried to,” Eric said, feeling the stares of the other board members. This was an emergency meeting but everyone was here, except Jim.

“Where is Benjamin now?” Dr. Arnold, President of North Park College, asked.

“In one of the dorms,” Eric said. “I left it up to the Residence staff to find him a bed.”

“So, I’ve got a known thief somewhere on my campus?” Dr. Arnold asked.

“That’s about the sum of it,” Eric said.

“Does anyone have a degree or certificate in psychology or criminology or anything that would qualify them to treat a thief?” Dr. Arnold asked. Eric could tell he was pissed at not being consulted on the move.

“Now, I understand the situation with Kevin Charles is complicated because he is here as part of his trust fund; is that right?” Bud McDonald asked.

“And, that we do not believe he was actually trying to kill himself,” Kevin said. “My nephew was using a meditation guide that was seriously flawed with some of its instructions and he took it as face value without question. He’s seeing a psychiatrist who we hope will be able to help him see the error of his earlier path.”

“So, he stays?” Dr. Arnold asked.

“He’s a good boy who just got in over his head,” Eric said. “I’m familiar with the book he was using and he isn’t the first person who almost died from following its meditations; and, yes, there have been a few deaths attributed to its use.”

“The book is gone?” Bud asked.

“I destroyed it myself,” Eric said.

“Okay, he stays,” Bud said. “Now, what’s with Casey Pale?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take most of the responsibility for that,” Peter said. Everyone stared at him as he continued. “His first day was rather stressful with a lot of us making fun of his obesity and childish appearance.”

“He’s the boy with the glandular problem we’re funding?” Dr. Arnold asked.

“Yes, his problem caused his obesity, delayed adolescence, and cause some minor deformity of his genitals,” Peter continued. “He’s also going through a serious sexual identity crisis and, well, that has caused a few problems, too.”

“Is it true you’ve had sex with him?” Kevin asked.

“Yes and no,” Peter said. “That first night he came to me for help in understanding how things were around here and when Euphorbia didn’t answer the door, Casey became confused. We shared a pot of tea and I figured an herbal bath would do the boy some good. The following morning, he, well, he fellated me.”

“And you didn’t stop him?” Dr. Arnold asked.

“No, and not the following morning or the morning after that,” Peter said.

“Anyone else having sex with the boy?” Bud asked.

“Ben Sorenson tried to force himself on Casey,” Peter said. “One of our juniors seems to have convinced Casey to perform the act on him, too. He met a boy, another freshman, and they were getting very close, but the other boy cross-dresses and led Casey to believe he was a girl.”

“Will Tiffani White return?” Dr. Arnold asked.

“Yes, all of her classes are on the campus CCTV system and she is tapping into it with her laptop at home,” Eric said. “If there is a quiz, one of us will contact the professor and arrange to proctor the test. She should be back by the middle of September.”

“Good,” Bud said. “What about her attacker?”

“I guess the police are still looking for him,” Kevin said, “but according to my contacts he’s pretty much dropped out of sight.”

“As I see things right now, we should let Casey Pale continue to live here,” Bud said. “I know the scholarship rules state that a student who attempts suicide must be removed from the house, but his case is unique and in light of recent events we need to cover our collective asses on this one. The foundation should continue to pay for his glandular situation and psychiatric care; and he should continue to live in Charles House. All in favor?”

Everyone said, “Aye.”

“Opposed?”

No one spoke.

“Good,” Bud said. “Now, Jim, let’s go find Benjamin and see what we can do with him.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Dr. Arnold said.

“The meeting is adjourned,” Bud said as he got up and followed the college president out of the boardroom.

Eric stayed put as everyone else filed out of the room. He realized it was somewhat refreshing not to have to go through the hassle of Roberts Rules of Order and let Bud run the show as he saw fit. They were in a pile of shit, though. They’d really screwed up with Ben and hopefully Bud and Jim Arnold were going to be able to salvage the situation.

Ben’s head hurt. Actually, it was his forehead that hurt. Being stuffed in the wardrobe meant having his forehead pressed against the corner of the shelf unit. It hurt a lot, as did a lot of the rest of his body.

He knew he was missing classes. He wasn’t aware of the time, but it had to be afternoon by now. For one thing, he was hungry. Hunger came at specific times during the day and the last time he ate was dinner. He had meat loaf, broccoli, fried rice, and an apple pastry something or other. It was very good especially with the ketchup he put on the meat loaf. Probably the only thing disgusting about the meal was the soy beans in the meat loaf. They hadn’t been properly disguised in his opinion.

He needed to pee, too, and was not about to use the diaper Jason put on him last night after his second beating. This time it was for nothing other than Jason getting off on whipping him with the rubber hose. He couldn’t be certain, but he was almost positive Jason drew blood as the aftercare was a bit different.

Jason fucked him, too, without a condom and only with spit. It hurt like hell.

Ben could only see one future, insanity. He wondered if that is what happened to Jason’s last roommate. Maybe there were more, but that didn’t concern him anymore. He was going to go insane from the beatings, sex, and being stuffed into the wardrobe. It was a certainty. They were only four stories up and he doubted if he’d die if he jumped. No, insanity was a much better option. At least the food was better and he’d get to take some terrific drugs, too.

As alertness slowly gained dominance in his mind, he became aware of some kind of commotion nearby. It sounded so close, as if there was someone in his room other than Jason and that person was talking, well practically yelling, at someone else; or, were there more than two in the room? As concentration was diverted from holding back the flood in his bladder to the noise, the voices became more distinct, but they were still blocked by the wardrobe. He couldn’t move much more than his head, which was leaning on the edge of a counter too sharp for head banging, and his upper torso, which he tried to bang against the wall. It barely made a sound, certainly not enough for anyone to hear with all the yelling going on.

Ben yelled through his gag. He knew it wasn’t much of a noise, but someone might hear; and, he tried to move his body enough so he could get to the doors. Maybe the force of his body against them would be enough to overpower the lock. It wasn’t much of a lock, more of a clasp, the kind of cheap hardware they put on wardrobes like this. He had a key, but he figured it was more for show and actual security. Had Jason locked him in? He couldn’t remember as the pain was blocking those thoughts. He kept on yelling, though.

“What’s that?” A voice said quite distinctly.

“It’s nothing,” Jason said. Jason was out there. Whoever else was there had been yelling at Jason.

Ben practically screamed into his gag and, finally, his shoulder bumped up against the door. It was a good bump, too. He rocked on his knees and bumped it again all the while continuing to scream. On the next bump, the door opened and he fell out onto the floor. Pain shot through his body and his bladder released its load.

“Oh, shit!” Someone exclaimed. “He’s bleeding. Call an ambulance.”

“You didn’t tell me Eddy was practically incapacitated,” Jim said as he softly caressed Tommy’s bare back. They were on the bed in his hotel room supposedly getting ready to hit a few bars. “Plus being married, albeit to a woman who is practically a vegetable in a nursing home, with three adorable kids, a slew of grandkids, and even a great-granddaughter.”

“He remembered being your lover,” Tommy whispered. “You heard what he said about frequenting tea rooms after he arrived in Chicago.”

“I could never understand some men’s need to just get off no matter whose cock they were sucking,” Jim said. His fingers trailed along the edge of Tommy’s crack.

“You sound like it’s just the same as being straight,” Tommy said as he rolled onto his back. He was hard, but Jim started caressing the young man’s chest. “You can’t just assume a guy’s gay just because you’re attracted to him.”

“I know that, but if you go to bars and, well now go online to chat rooms, you can find someone,” Jim said as he softly rubbed his index finger over Tommy’s stiff right nipple. “Or, you can just rely on chance like I did and end up with a beautiful young man like you.”

“You think it’s as simple as that?” Tommy asked. He sat up and turned his back to Jim. “What about the poor schmuck in Y’allville, Mississippi? How many other queers within a fifty mile radius? Do you think there’s a neighborhood bar you can go to? You zip down to the city park, if they have one, or to wherever it is the few others are looking for a little man to man action; or, you just end up jerking off while looking at porn and imagining that it’s a guy’s ass the other is plugging.”

“You make it sound so horrible,” Jim said as he scooted across the bed. He kissed his lover’s neck.

“Think about what it was like back then,” Tommy said. “You were here in the Village looking for a man to take an interest in you until Bobby showed up and Sandstorm is in a strange city working on his Masters and PhD all the while looking around for places where he might meet someone like you. Maybe he’s shyer than you and doesn’t want to look for bars. Then little miss future Mrs. Sandstorm comes by and sucks his cock on the first date so she can pretend to be a virgin. All he has to do is shut his eyes and imagine it’s a guy doing him. And that’s it until a couple years later on their wedding night when he has to bang her. What’d he say? He did it doggy style because she had a nice ass.”

“He laughed, too,” Jim said. He positioned himself so he was straddling Tommy’s hips. His cock, exhausted from all the action in the previous hour and the resulting orgasm, was limp, barely registering his growing love for this beautiful young man. “I don’t know, but I think that was kind of sick. It’s like he just married her to get by; to make himself look legitimate. He was in Chicago. For Christ’s sake, they have queers, too. Right?”

“Have you thought maybe Sandstorm wasn’t as queer as you?” Tommy asked. He leaned back into the old man’s embrace and watched as expert hands began to manipulate his erection. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Kinsey Scale. Maybe he has enough straight in him to stick his cock up that dank, soggy hole.”

“It’s rather moot now,” Jim said as he brought up one hand up to fiddle with one of Tommy’s nipples while the other hand concentrated on the cock. “I have you, right?”

“Yeah, you have me and I have you,” Tommy said. “Can we go to my apartment tonight? We can finish this there.”

“Do you want me to move out of here?” Jim asked. “I only have the one bag.”

“It’s kind of small,” Tommy said.

“Aren’t all apartments in the City small?” Jim asked.

“There’re some really huge ones, I’ve seen them,” Tommy said.

“Do you want a huge apartment?” Jim asked.

“No, a small bungalow with a white picket fence out on Long Island or maybe up in Connecticut,” Tommy said.

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Jim said as he gripped Tommy’s cock a little more firmer and began to stroke it at little more quicker.

“You guys need bicycles so we can go on bike rides,” Six said. Cheri and Casey were lying on his bed with him, Casey was in the middle. He and Casey, who were both wearing loose gym shorts, had been down in the exercise room where he was helping Casey burn a few extra calories. The diet Euphorbia set up was taking pounds off, but everyone knew the boy needed to replace the flab with more solid tissue. Cheri was in her usual khakis and loose frilly top. Today it was sky blue and white polka dot.

“What do I need a bike for?” Cheri asked. All of them were staring at the ceiling. “I don’t want any muscles interfering with my girlish figure.”

“You really want to be a girl?” Six asked. He turned on his side and began to twiddle with Casey’s nearest nipple.

“Stop that!” Casey exclaimed, but when Six didn’t stop, he didn’t protest further.

“Maybe, someday,” Cheri said. She turned on her side and began to twiddle with the other nipple.

“We could do it right now,” Six said.

“What?” Cheri exclaimed.

“Casey could go up to his shower and get that wicked razor he used to slice his wrist and we’ll all go in the bathroom here where I’ll slice off your dick,” Six said. “I suppose it’ll hurt like hell but I’m sure Casey is willing to stop the bleeding while I call 9-1-1. When you get to the hospital, you tell them not to reattach your dick and to turn you into a girl.”

“You’re not cutting off my dick,” Cheri said. “Casey likes it too much. Don’t you Casey?”

“Yeah, but I like Six’s better, he has hair,” Casey said. Cheri poked him in the ribs. “Hey, you wanted to know.”

“If you tickle him too much he’ll pee his pants,” Six said.

“That’s an idea,” Cheri said as fingers headed for their target.

“I wouldn’t do that ’cause I’m not wearing enough down there and I’ll pee all over Six’s bed,” Casey said. Six was still twiddling his nipple and he didn’t want to move.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind in case I need to use it later,” Cheri said. “So, my dear, sweet boyfriend, you like this other boy’s dick better, huh? What does his come taste like?”

“How would I know, I haven’t sucked him, yet,” Casey said with a smile. “I’ve seen him naked, though, and, unlike me, he’s got all the parts in the right places. You’re good too, but you don’t have any hair anywhere except on your head and he has hair everywhere. He’s even starting to get a bit of hair on his chest.”

“So you want to date him instead of me,” Cheri said with a huff.

“No, I didn’t say that,” Casey said. The tingle in his groin told him Six’s twiddling was doing the trick. “I want to be your boyfriend, I guess, and I like your body, but like I said before, it’d be kind of nice if you had just a little hair down there. That way when we do it and I get past the girl on the outside, there’ll be a boy on the inside. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Cheri said. She leaned over and kissed Casey.

“What about me?” Six asked.

“What do you mean; what about you?” Casey asked.

“Don’t I get a kiss, too?” Six asked.

“She’s my boyfriend,” Casey said.

“I could be his boyfriend, too,” Cheri said. “We could all be boyfriends.”

“You mean like a three-way?” Casey asked with a face scrunched up with disgust.

“No, more like a ménage a trois,” Six said.

“A mena-what?” Casey asked.

“Ménage a trois,” Cheri said. “It’s where three people share each other. We won’t be doing it together, but we’ll love each other and when we want to do it someone will always be there.”

“That sounds like some weird French thing,” Casey said. “Are you sure it’ll work?”

“Probably not, but by then you should have a real dick and will be able to find another boyfriend,” Six said as he poked and prodded Casey’s ribs, eliciting a loud giggling whine.

“I should just pee for the hell of it,” Casey said as he rolled away, practically smothering Cheri who wasn’t quite fast enough to get out of the way. He pressed his lips to hers and felt Six’s hand go up his shorts and begin to caress his ass. Yeah, Six was going to fuck him one day soon and he was going to enjoy it. He turned his head toward Six and asked, “Hey, Six, how are we going to get bikes?”