CAN'T RAPE THE WILLING
Kevin Donovan
What follows is a work of gay erotic fiction, featuring bondage, domination, some light kink. It is completely fiction. All participants, if they existed, would be over the legal age for consent wherever you live. If you yourself are under that age, leave now. The author never condones any kind of coerced sex. Like all Nifty authors, I get inspiration and encouragement from your comments, so please don't be shy.
This is only my second Authoritarian piece: the first was "The Harem," October 11, 2001.
letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com
CHAPTER SEVEN: PROPOSAL
Jake woke to find Ethan still in slumber, but Boss missing. He heard the shower running, though, in the adjacent bathroom. He wandered in to take a piss, and saw Boss washing his hair in the large shower stall. Without a word, he opened the clear glass door, said good morning to his man, and stepped inside.
"Let me help," he suggested running his hands over Boss's firm, wet body.
Boss laughed. "Just wash. No hanky-panky. I have to go to work today."
Jake soaped Boss's skin thoroughly, caressing his ass-crack and slipping a soapy finger into his rectum gently.
"Do you ever take it up the ass, Boss?"
"Not from you," Boss declared firmly, "And not often, either." But he was smiling, not angry at being asked.
"We have a lot to learn about you," stated Jake.
"You'll learn," he answered. He stepped out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel, and returned to the bedroom. Jake continued to wash himself, using Boss's soap and shampoo. They smelled nice. They smelled like Boss.
Ethan came in and pissed, then joined him in the shower, so Jake washed Ethan lovingly, too. He kissed him, and Ethan returned the kiss. It might be odd, but as they were entering this three-way relationship, their two-way relationship seemed little changed, perhaps only expanded.
"I love you so much," declared Jake.
"That is the most important thing anyone ever said to me," said Ethan, "and this is the most important time for you to say it. Thank you. I love you more than anything."
"Boss will be out today. He has to work."
"We better get down there and see if he has time for some breakfast."
It was certainly convenient not to have to put anything on before going down to the kitchen. Boss already had coffee brewing, but did not have time to wait for breakfast.
Ethan was disappointed. "We'll have to be sure to set an alarm next time so we can have more time."
Boss smiled. It wasn't lost on him that Ethan was assuming a) that there would be a next time, and b) it was his responsibility to see that Boss got a good breakfast. He kissed both men happily.
"I'll pick up a biscuit down the street. I've been doing it for years, once more won't kill me. I'll be back around six. For dinner--no turkey, OK? There's some salmon in the freezer, that sounds good. Gotta get the arteries working again, too, after yesterday.
"But I'll be going out for a while after dinner. Got some stuff to do. Cunny, Baby, you and me are going to the Club tonight, around 2:00. Puss can tell you about it. He did great, and I know you will, too."
Jake felt a pang of disappointment, but he didn't say anything. It seemed pretty clear that he would not be included, and that was not unfair. Still, he felt left out.
Boss patted his cheek and said, "Next time, Puss, I promise. You can both go."
Ethan returned just before dawn in a lather of excitement. To say he'd had a good time would be an understatement. To say he'd been a sensation at the club would certainly not be an overstatement. Ed's fellow-member regulars were astounded that he had suddenly come up with not one, but two hot, intelligent, young, willing, incredibly fuckable sex-toys. Envy was rampant. He'd been offered $5,000 for the pair, which he turned down flat.
Boss tied Cunny to the fence and let men beat him with floggers. He took him into the wet room, where everyone pissed all over him, and Boss pissed in his mouth. He swallowed.
"Did he tie you over that barrel thing?"
"No, not that, instead he put me in a kind of sling where your head hangs back, and men can fuck either end at the same time. So I had two at a time banging me, throat and ass. It was great!"
Ethan got tit-clamped. He got anal-probed. He got his balls shocked. He got gang-raped. He loved it. But at the height of the party, who should show up but my friend and lust-object, Whelp, the bitch-boy on leash.
"I got to breed him, Jake! It was fuckin' fantastic! He stood for me on all fours and just let me take him, like you did, on the bar, with everyone watching. Couple of guys shot a load just from watching us! Awesome! He is freakin' hot, Dude. He asked about you, too, later. I told him you'd be around."
"So I take it you pretty much liked it, then," Jake laughed. Ethan just gave him a deep, ravishing kiss in response.
Having fallen asleep the night before watching Boss's considerable library of gay porn, with its heavy emphasis on bondage and S & M, Jake had gotten more sleep than either of the others, and he was up much earlier--by ten. He held off on breakfast, though, thinking they might well want lunch by the time they woke. Boss came down at noon, though, looking for coffee, which Jake had readily available. He requested waffles, and went down to wake Ethan while Jake got busy.
They were just finishing their breakfast when the doorbell rang.
"Get that, would you, Puss." It was not a question.
"You expecting anybody, Boss? Should we go downstairs?"
"Yep, I am. You stay. This involves you, too."
So Jake went naked to the door, where a man in business attire waited. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jake couldn't quite place him. He introduced himself as Wiley Barber, and he offered his hand. Jake shook it.
Jake always went naked at home anyway, and by this time, he was so accustomed to being naked around Boss and his friends that it did not occur to him that anyone else would find that odd or off-putting. He said nothing about it, but invited the man in. Boss and Ethan were still in the dining room, but Ethan was quickly clearing the table. Ethan was just as comfortable nude as Jake.
"Mr. Barber," Jake said, butler-fashion.
But Boss and Wiley knew one another well. Barber looked familiar because he had been at the Club when both Jake and Ethan were there. He'd been in his leather get-up then, so Jake did not immediately recognize him. Ethan did, though. He was one of the men who lost his sperm-load watching Ethan breed the bitch. Barber was in his forties, and he was Ed's attorney.
"Let's just stay here," he suggested. "I have papers for each of you."
Ethan brought fresh coffee for all. Mr. Barber opened his satchel and began.
"As you know, this state does not allow same-sex marriage, or even civil union. That is unfair, of course, and it will change one day, but it doesn't mean there can be no legal contract unions, and in fact, in one way, this is better because, when we do have same-sex marriage, we'll be limited to one spouse at a time. As it is, since a legal contract is not a marriage, gays and lesbians, and others, too, if they do it this way, can, in effect, practice polygamy. This is what my client, Mr. Hamilton, is suggesting."
Ethan and Jake exchanged glances. So, Ed's last name was `Hamilton.' Who knew?
"Here are his terms: he is the husband, and you two are the wives, both of you. You are to move in with him, and live in his residence as husband and wives, effective immediately." He paused to see how we were taking this. They said nothing, so he continued.
"Ed is more traditional than gay polygamy may sound. He expects you to assume his name. You'll be Jacob Mason Hamilton and Ethan Miller Hamilton, respectively, paperwork to begin Monday." Another brief pause.
"Our parents will shit," said Ethan.
"Our parents won't know," said Jake.
"As his wives, you are to defer to your husband in all matters pertaining to the health and happiness of the family. He will defer to your taste in matters of décor and household management--though you have to stay within your budget, of course. And he does, too. You know how it is in traditional marriage: the husband has a vote and the wife has a vote, but in case of a tie, decision goes to the husband. Well, that's how it is, but together, you two are one wife, with one vote. Get it?
The wives nodded as one.
"Speaking of décor: Boss, whose grandmother was it that decorated this place?"
"Mine. Inherited it. You can fix it."
Barber went on. "He will undertake all traditional husbandly duties, including lawn care, maintenance work, even taking out the trash. I told you, he's a traditionalist. You will assume all wifely duties, including cooking, housekeeping, laundry, and so forth--shared together."
"I'm terrible at ironing," Jake declared.
"Send it out," countered Mr. Barber. "You can hire a cook or housekeeper if you want to, or divide up the duties however you like. It's just up to you to get it done.
"You have good jobs, and he supports that. You will continue in your careers, and each of you will pay the sum of $700 per month toward the mortgage on your residence, which will be converted to a jointly-owned property as soon as possible, the paperwork can begin Monday. The accountant will be along directly. He has worked out a budget plan, which calls for each of you to contribute approximately $800 more, give or take, toward the household budget--utilities, food, maintenance, and so forth. You will own and maintain your own automobiles. You will provide your own clothing and personal items, including medical insurance and health care, personal care products and so forth. This is all laid out here (he tapped the papers). You will all purchase life insurance in the amount of $750,000 each, with the others as equal beneficiaries. You with me?"
"That's less than we pay now," said Ethan.
Jake nodded. "I can trade for that Beemer."
Barber continued. "As a good wife should, you will maintain your weight at no more than 10% more than its present level. But that 10% leeway is expected to be muscle. Toward that end, you will exercise strenuously at least one hour every day. Equipment and opportunity will be provided. You will keep yourself well-groomed and clean, including your anus, at all times.
"You are sex objects, make no bones about it. When you arrive home, you are to remove all your clothing and leave it off until you leave the premises again, or until your husband instructs you to dress--I see you already have a head start on that one. And when you dress, you dress to please your husband. You are to be sexually available to your husband at all times, and he to you. That means no headaches, boys.
"I keep aspirin handy," commented Ed, and the boys laughed at the in-joke.
"And you are to be sexually available to anyone else that he designates. You may have oral sex with anyone at your discretion when he is present or instructs you to do so. However, you may not have genito-anal sex with anyone outside the family, except at his direction. Is that all clear? It's all written down here for you to read later."
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," commented Ethan softly.
"Hush, you're Jewish," answered Jake.
Barber continued. "You will always use a condom when having anal sex with any other man, unless Ed agrees you have more-than-\adequate assurance of his disease-free status; you will never use a condom when having sex with your husband, or one another.
"Mr. Hamilton is grateful for the loving relationship you two already share, and he will do everything in his power to support and encourage that. He has no objection whatsoever to his wives' continued sexual relations with one another, in any form, any time."
The doorbell rang, and Ethan began to push back from the table, but Boss stopped him. He went to the door himself, while Mr. Barber finished.
"There's a little more, but it will be handled by others, who will be arriving shortly. I'll leave these papers here for you to read and discuss. I'm coming to the game day tomorrow, so I can pick them up, signed and notarized--Ray Beeson is a notary public, and he'll be here tomorrow, too. Questions? You OK with this polygamy thing?"
"Well, like he said, I'm Jewish. I know all about King David and Solomon and those guys. Ain't no biggie for me," said Ethan.
"It would shock my Lutheran sensibilities, I guess, if I still had any," said Jake. "No, I'm OK In fact, it's the only way I could do it. I'd never leave Ethan."
Ethan returned Jake's loving gaze.
"Well, you have more to learn, and much to consider. I'll see you all tomorrow." And with that, Wiley Barber headed for the door.
He passed another man, more casually dressed, just coming in with Boss, and they exchanged greetings. This time, both boys recognized the guest. It was the "owner" of the bitch they had so enjoyed breeding at the Club. Boss introduced him as Andrew Wilcox, architect, and he handed out some drawings. They sat.
"Actually, these plans were done by my associate, Dillon. He says `hello,' and hopes to see you again soon. Um--you met him at the Club, both of you. I had him on a leash."
"Holy shit. He's a trained architect? He looks about eighteen," said Jake.
"He's twenty-four, same, I believe, as you?"
"Next week and early January. So he's older than us. Amazing.
"What's his last name?" asked Ethan, obviously milking for all the information he could gather. He got more than he expected.
"Wilcox. He's the younger of my two sons."
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," said Jacob.