They were sharing a drink in Morticia's loft apartment/studio, admiring the Goth Keane Kitten painting she'd just finished, and the talk had come around once again to the Halloween party they were having at The Catacombs next week. Morticia was going as a pirate wench. "That way I have an excuse to wear an eyepatch and a fake tattoo," she said. She touched the upper curve of her breast. "Gonna stencil a mermaid, right here. I can't be sure the boobies will emerge from motherhood still perky, so I might as well show 'em off while I can."

William swirled the wine in his glass, looking down into it's crimson depths, and said casually, "How do the folks at The Catacombs feel about bondage?"

Chase didn't squeak, he didn't even gasp--but the breath he drew in was a little sharp. The look that William gave him wasn't at all forbidding--it was calm, and level. Chase had the feeling that all he need do was indicate discomfort with the subject, and William would switch smoothly to another topic. But he'd trusted William so far in these matters, and he saw no reason to stop now. He also knew something of Morticia's attitudes, so her possible reaction didn't worry him.

Morticia finished her glass of grape juice and started to strip off her artist's smock. "Bondage? Hey, the Goths might not have invented it, but many members of our tribe are trying diligently to perfect it. Thinking about your Halloween costume?" William nodded. "I can pretty much promise you that if you show up at the party in bondage gear you can expect to be heartily admired, and that's about it unless someone gets way too drunk. Intolerant attitudes will get you bounced, and so will inappropriate touching. Oh, a little R rated fondling is expected, but we avoid the NC-17 stuff--there's a lot less crap to deal with from the law that way."

"Very sensible."

She smiled. "I won't say that there aren't some very interesting connections made at our parties, though."

"Will," Chase tugged at his arm. "What are you going as?" William just smiled at him. Chase swatted him on the shoulder. "Don't be a snot! Tell me."

"Oh, come on, Chase," said Morticia good humoredly. She reached down and picked up Pyewacket, hefting the pregnant cat carefully. "You know very well that half the fun is anticipation." She smiled slyly. "Sort of like foreplay."

"I was going to wait for awhile," said William, "but I'll show you when we get home, all right, Mister Impatient?"

"Hey, I'm being very patient. I've only swatted you once so far," Chase protested. He took William's glass, swallowed the last sip of wine, and put it down. Grabbing his lover's hand, he tugged. "Time to go home. Bye, Morty. Lovely painting. See you."

William didn't budge. "Look, impatience is one thing, rudeness is another."

"That's it, Will," said Morticia. "The boy has good manners, but sometimes when he gets excited, he forgets." Morticia elbowed William, and Pyewacket, in her arms, put a paw on the man's forearm. Morticia whispered, "If you really want to make him behave, threaten to tell his Mama on him."

Chase's eyes narrowed. "You do that, Morty, and I'll tell everyone at The Catacombs about that Hello, Kitty! music box you have stashed in your bottom drawer."

"Oh, he can be vicious," said Morticia cheerfully. "And I hate to be a bad host, William, but I do need to ask you two to run along. I'm feeling a little dragged out, and I want a nap." She cuddled Pyewacket, who purred and nuzzled her face. "With my living fuzzy toy animal. Pyewacket's a great bed companion, except that she wants to sleep in the warmest part of the bed, which is usually under my armpit or right on top of my crotch, and she hisses if I move too suddenly."

"I've had bed partners like that," said William, "though they weren't all that fuzzy."

"Call me tomorrow, Chase," said Morticia, walking them to the door. "We'll plan on when we need you at the club to help put up the decorations."

"Am I going to be able to use the kitchen to help with the snacks?" asked Chase.

"Such as it is," said Morticia. "We have a refrigerator, a Fry Daddy, a microwave, and a couple of hot plates." Chase made a distressed sound, and Morticia shrugged. "You've seen our menu--cold sandwiches, nachos, and any kind of fried appetizer."

Chase sighed. "Looks like I'll have to do most of it at home, then transport it. They're going to fund me for supplies, right?"

"As long as you don't want to buy proscuitto and caviar."

"I won't, but you'd be shocked at how expensive it is to buy Chex cereal to make the trash munch mix."

"I'll contribute," said William. "After all, I'm getting into a party free--it's the least I can do."

"Oh, goody!" Chase didn't quite bounce. "I get to take you grocery shopping! The check out girls are going to be sooo jealous."

Chase didn't stop teasing William about the costume all through the ride back to William's house. By the time they parked in the driveway William was starting to feel irritated. He cut the engine off, turned in the seat, and reached over quickly, grabbing Chase's chin. Chase cut off in mid-jabber, eyes going wide. "Chase," said William, slowly and carefully. "Stop it."

"Okay," said Chase meekly.

William nodded, and patted him gently on the cheek. "Baby, you're as cute as a bug when you tease, but you have to learn that there are some absolutes. We haven't gotten to know each other well enough to be able to read each other's moods consistantly--but we will, if we stay together long enough."

"I'd like that," said Chase quietly.

"It can happen. We both have to pay attention--that's all. Now," William gave Chase's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's go in, and I'll show you my costume..." he looked around, "since the SUV is gone. That means Mrs. Fieldstone is out."

"Oh," cooed Chase. "It would embarrass her?"

"Not as much as your costume did this morning," said William wryly, "but yeah--it isn't exactly middle America casual, lounging around the house wear. Not even if you're Bob Guccioni."

They went into the house. After a moment's thought, William put on the security chain. "This way if she comes back unexpectedly, she'll need one of us to let her in. Now, I want you to draw the curtains and then take a seat on the couch. Then wait--patiently."

"Yes, sir."

As William walked back to his bedroom, Chase hastily drew the drapes over each window, sinking the living room into dimness. William hadn't told him to turn on any lights, so he didn't. He just took a seat in the center of the couch, folded his hands neatly in his lap, and waited. He did very well, actually, though after a few minutes one foot was jittering. It was either that, or get up and pace, and William had said to stay sitting.

He heard William's voice from the hall, which was just a shadowy recess. "You haven't turned on any lights. Good boy. Reach over and turn on the lamp, but on the dimmest setting."

Chase leaned over and turned the switch on the Ginger Jar lamp one click, and a dim glow pooled around that side of the sofa. Then Chase looked eagerly toward the hallway. The speculation about William's costume had excited Chase to the point where he was already getting hard. *Oh, what that man can do to me,* he mused. William stepped out of the hallway. Chase's jaw dropped, then he swallowed hard and whispered, "Bless your good heart and every inch of your fine, hard body."

William smiled. "I take it you approve."

"Is there a word stronger than approval? How about 'heartily endorse'? My God, William!"

It was the full body harness that he'd inspected at Claudine's house, but done in black leather instead of red. There was a band around his throat, and others around his chest, abdomen, hips, each thigh, and each knee. Actually, he had two bands across his chest--above and below his nipples, framing the pierced buds of flesh. The only reason there weren't bands around his ankles was because he was wearing high boots of the same black leather. The horizontal bands were joined with buckles and rings at intervals by verticle bands, leaving large sections of Will's pale, gleaming flesh framed.

Chase's eyes skittered all over William, taking in details. He was also wearing an almost indecently tiny pair of black briefs--when he did a slow turn, half of his ass cheeks were on display. Chase noted that he was also wearing gauntlets--fingerless leather gloves that laced up the inside of his forearm. He wondered vaguely how he'd managed to do that alone. And he was wearing-- *A helmet?* That's what it had to be. It looked like bronze. It cupped his head, the face plates only extending half-way along his cheeks, leaving a clear view of his face.

"I could have gotten a trident and net," said William, "but I don't want to be lugging them around all night. What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Chase spread his legs wantonly and pointed at his distended fly. "Does that answer your question?"

"Glad you like it. Now, are you interested in what I want to suggest for your costume?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

William walked over to the hall closet and removed what looked like a garment box. He brought it back to Chase, stood before him, and handed it over wordlessly. Chase eagerly opened the box, to be confronted by a pile of plain white fabric. "Oh. I'm going to go as a ghost?" He was a little disappointed, but wasn't about to let on.

"That's just part of it. Look under."

Chase lifted away the fabric, peeking under it, then squealed. "Oh, Will! Are these what I think they are?"

Will dropped the fabric on the sofa. "It's a slave boy costume. The sheet is very carefully wound, folded, and tucked. If it's done right, no safety pins are needed. Then there are these." William reached down and lifted out a handful of thick, buckled leather straps. Chase could see that WS/CM had been tooled into each strap. William touched each one. "Two anklets, two cuffs, and..." he withdrew the longest, most ornate one, and showed it to Chase.

Chase stared at it, then looked up at William and whispered, "A collar?"

William nodded. He was smiling, but his eyes were serious. "Only if you want it, baby. And it can't be just because you think I want it. You understand that? The games are no good unless there's fun on both sides."

Chase reached out and ran a finger down the smooth strap, and shivered deliciously. "Just Halloween?"

"Only when you want it."

"Could... Do you think I could... sort of try it out now?"

William's eyes darkened. "All of it, or just the collar?"

"Just... just the collar? That's the only part I'm not entirely sure about."

"Do you just want to wear it for a little while, or do you want to..." William stroked a thumb over Chase's cheek, "play?"

Chase could feel his breathing speeding up. "Play."

William smiled slowly. "I was hoping you'd say that."

William sat beside Chase, and the boy shivered at his nearness. He wanted to throw himself on the other man, but he knew instinctively that wouldn't be the thing to do. He knew that he was entering a new stage of their relationship, an unfamiliar one. He also knew that William would guide him through and keep him safe, if he'd only trust him.

William took both of Chase's hands in his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "You're frightened, aren't you, baby?" he said quietly.

Chase's first instinct was to deny. But the face peering out at him between the brass plates of the helmet was so gentle, so reassuring, that he told the truth. "A little."

"It's natural. New situations can be scary." He lifted Chase's hands, kissing the back of each one. Chase felt the warm touch of his lips, and the cool kiss of metal as well. "You just have to trust me, and do as I say. I truly believe that you'll enjoy this, that we both will."

Chase nodded. "I think so, too. How do we do this?"

"We set out a basic set of circumstances. We assume roles, and we both agree to stay in those roles as much as possible--speaking, acting--thinking if we can. Can you do that?"

"Pretending is a big part of my life, William. I'm very happy with myself, but sometimes I like to be someone else, too."

"Then this is perfect for you, sweetie. Will you let me set out the scene this first time?"

"Yes, please." Chase squirmed. "I have a feeling that you have a marvelous imagination."

William chuckled. "We're both slaves."

Chase frowned. "Both?"

"Just listen, Chase. Yes, both slaves in ancient Rome. But you have to remember that there were different ranks among slaves." He tapped his helmet, smiling. "I'm a gladiator--a successful one--and that means I have a little prestige. I win money for our Master, and he likes to reward me when I do well." William's hand slid down Chase's throat and pressed against his chest. "This time he's rewarding me with an assignment. He has a new slave--a green one--and I'm to begin his training. Do you understand?"

Chase licked his lips. "I believe I do."

"What's your safe word, Chase?"

"Daisy."

"Remember it. Use if if you need to. I'm serious." William stood up. His voice now was flat, no-nonsense. "Strip to your underwear." Chase stood quickly and obeyed his directive, toeing off his shoes, scraping off his socks, then hastily removing his shirt and pants. When he dropped them William said cooly, "Is that the way a decent slave leaves the clothes bought for him by his Master?" Chase quickly folded them neatly, setting them aside, and William nodded his approval. "Be still." He walked slowly around Chase, giving him a leisurely examination from head to toe. He reached out and ran a hand down the smooth sweep of Chase's back, feeling the boy twitch at his touch. "I said be still! You're going to be touched, slave, so you might as well get used to it. I can't properly asses you by sight alone."

He continued the examination, gripping Chase's arms, testing the flex, squeezing the boy's buttocks consideringly. "Soft." He patted him. "But that's good, in your position. Because do you know for what position I'm to train you?"

"I..." Chase hesitated, then said, "May I speak?"

He felt William press a kiss to his shoulder. "Yes, slave."

"No, Master. I've never been a slave before. I know the Master has many slaves to do his bidding, and I can't think of anything I could do for him that they don't."

"First, boy--don't call me Master. Our Master has given me the privileges of a Master while I train you, but I'm a slave as much as you. You'll call me Sir."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy. And there are things you can do for our Master. Perhaps you aren't skilled enough to be an artisan, or sturdy enough to be of much use in rough labor." William set his hands on Chase's shoulders and squeezed. "But I think with a little training you'll make an excellent pleasure slave." Chase started to tremble. "No protests, little one? No denial of your harsh future?"

"No, Sir. Who am I to fight Fate?"

"Sensible slave." William pressed down. "Kneel."

Chase sank to his knees, with William still behind him. William moved, and Chase felt his booted feet knudge his calves as he straddled Chase's legs. "Be still again..." William stroked Chase's hair, "and accept the token of your servitude." Chase closed his eyes as he felt cool leather encircle his throat. It rubbed softly against his skin as William fastened the buckle in back. Then he felt William slip his fingers under the circlet, testing to be sure that it wasn't too tight. "Can you breathe well enough, slave? Don't lie."

"Why would I lie, Sir?"

"Some slaves love the collar so much that they want it to embrace them tightly--too tightly for either comfort or safety." William's fingers curled around the collar, and he very gently shook Chase's head. "That endangers our Master's property, and must not be allowed. Is it too tight?"

"No, Sir."

"Good." William's fingers skimmed along the collar, brushing first Chase's skin, then ruffling his hair. "Because you're going to wear it for a long, long time--if you're lucky." He bent down, putting his lips beside Chase's ear. "Rules."

"Yes, Sir?"

"There will come a time when you'll need to think for yourself, to anticipate your Master's wants and needs, and to meet them before they're expressed. But that's advanced, and you aren't ready. For now you'll follow instructions, and you won't make a move that isn't directed."

"Yes, Sir."

William stood. "Straighten up." Chase stiffened his spine, making his posture as correct as that of a soldier on parade. "Hands behind your back, wrists crossed." Chase moved to obey. He felt William's hand encircle his wrists, enclosing them easily. "These are tied, do you understand?"

Chase thought for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, you're pleased with yourself, are you?" Chase yelped as William lightly pinched his buttock. "Careful. Pride is a dangerous emotion for a slave. When you've learned your craft--then you can be proud. Test your bonds."

Chase tensed his arms, keeping his wrists pressed tightly together, and strained. It was rather like an isometric exercise, testing muscles against each other. He twisted his hands, never letting his wrists part, just as if they were truly bound together. He was enjoying the play acting, but he thought that as the scene progressed it might not be quite so easy to keep up the illusion of being bound. But for as long as he could his arms would remain like this, just as if they'd truly been lashed behind him.

"Shoulders back." William adjusted them. "This may not seem important to you, boy, but you need to learn to present yourself in a pleasing manner." He walked in front of Chase and nudged his boot between Chase's knees. "Spread your legs." Chase shifted. "Wider." He obeyed. "Now, carefully--lean back." Chase hesitated. He was going to have to concentrate to keep his balance like this. "If you hesitate again I'll whip you." Chase tensed the muscles in his thighs and leaned back a couple of inches. "More." Chase gave William a questioning look. William sighed. "You're young, and you're green. I'll give you one more chance to escape a beating. More." Chase leaned, arching his back. His torso made a pale, shallow arc, smooth but for several protusions. His nipples thrust out, hard and pink, and his fly, a damp patch leaking through the cotton, strained. "Much better." William's hand settled on Chase's chest, then slid over to begin toying with one nipple. "Our Master is a lucky man. You're very beautiful, and you're going to be very skilled, once I'm through with you." He pinched lightly. "You'll like that, won't you?"

Chase couldn't look at William and keep his balance, so he had to be content with staring at the ceiling. "Yes, sir."

William pinched his other nipple, rolling it between his fingertips. "You've seen my rings, slave. Maybe some day we'll do the same for you." He plucked lightly. "Master is rich enough to give you silver, or even gold. He likes to adorn his property." William's hand slid down the center of Chase's torso, stopping to circle around his navel. "He's going to want to show you off, to excite the envy of his friends." His hand moved down over Chase's crotch, cupping and squeezing. "And they WILL envy him." He rubbed slowly, and Chase started to sweat. Chase whimpered when the warm, massaging hand was withdrawn, and William took a step back. At that distance Chase could see him without having to strain, and his eyes were rivited to his lover.

William stood, feet planted wide, and removed his helmet, setting it aside. Then he just let Chase look at him. Chase's mouth went dry, then filled with saliva. William really was rather magnificent. The nearly obscene briefs were edging even closer to obscenity. His hard on thrust aggressively against the black fabric, clearly outlined. It strained so that the high cut hems gaped slightly, lifted away from his body. He reached down and pressed the bulge lightly, and Chase gasped as the rose pink head of William's cock peeked out at the bottom. It glistened in the dim light, and as he watched, a clear drop of fluid oozed out. Then William removed his hand and it was again hidden. Chase groaned.

William squatted before Chase, his knees spread, showcasing his erection. Chase could just see it by lifting his head a little and looking down the length of his own body. That perspective made it look as if it were about to brush his own throbbing cock, and he felt himself get even stiffer. "To learn to give others pleasure," said William, "you first must know how to experience pleasure yourself."

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Chase's underwear and tugged it down slowly. Chase's eager erection popped over the elastic, wavering there, thick, hard, and glistening. *I don't believe it,* Chase thought. *All this, and he hasn't even touched my bare cock yet.*

"Just be still," whispered William. His hand fastened around Chase's prick, engulfing it, "and feel." He started to stroke. Soon Chase was whimpering with pleasure, trying to arch up into his touch. William allowed it, though once Chase started to bring his hands around and reach for William. William's hand stopped moving, squeezing firmly, and his expression was stern. Chase realized what was wrong and quickly tucked his hands away again, letting his head drop back submissively. William nodded, and continued masturbating him. He worked the boy's underwear down further, till it was tight around his upper thighs, and his cock and balls were completely exposed. Then William leaned over and took Chase in his mouth. Chase cried out, hips jerking as he came heavily--but he kept his arms in place.

William nursed on him for a moment, gently rolling and playing with Chase's balls, then let the damp cock slip from between his lips. "You'll need to learn more control, slave," he said hoarsely, licking his lips. "The Master usually likes his slaves to wait until he gives them permission to come." He tugged lightly on Chase's scrotum. "It will take practise, but you're going to GET practise. Rise up."

Chase tried, then said apologetically. "I'm not sure I can."

"The limberness will come, too." William took hold of Chase's shoulders and helped him straighten up. He stood and pushed down his own underwear (Chase saw that he'd slipped it on over his harness, so that there wouldn't have to be any complicated wrestling with fastenings.

William's cock was swollen to its maximum, thrusting out aggressively, as if pointing at Chase. It was so stiff that it lifted away from it's usual resting place on top of the cushion of William's testicles. William reached down and hefted it in one hand, as if weighing it. "Do you see what you've done, pretty little slave?" He stepped closer, reached out, and sank his hands into Chase's short, soft hair. "You must relieve it." He drew Chase forward. "Pleasure me with your mouth."

Chase was really into the scene. Instead of beginning immediately, he rested his cheek against William's abdomen and said plaintively, "Please, sir. I've never done that before. I don't know what to do."

William chuckled. "I think you'll learn quickly."

"But won't it taste terrible?"

"What if it did? You're a slave, you have no right to refuse a task simply because you find it distasteful. But you won't find this distasteful, slave. I can tell. You're going to find this sweet." He pulled Chase's head back a couple of inches. "Begin by licking me."

Chase's eyelashes swept down demurely, then he put out his tongue and daintily dabbed it against the very tip of William's glans, swiping it into the tiny slit. William's legs trembled. He wanted to throw Chase on his stomach and mount him, then and there--but that wasn't part of this scene. This scene was about a gentle introduction to the game. "Are you a cat, slave? Let me feel you."

This time Chase gave him a wet, lavish lick that swirled around the pink bulb of William's glans. Then he moved his head, nudging William's cock up with his chin, and licked the underside from base to crown. William groaned. "Oh, you're a fast study, you little wanton. Take it in your mouth, as much of it as you can."

Chase obeyed, letting the hot thickness spread his lips wide, sinking down till he'd engulfed over half of William's length. "Now, suck. Suck it like a choice sweet, and don't let me feel your teeth."

Chase sucked William's cock, trying to keep his mouth full of salive so that it would be as hot and wet as possible. He started to bob minutely, taking a little more in with each pass. William grunted. He took hold of Chase's head, holding it in place, and began to fuck his mouth with shallow, careful strokes. He looked down the lenght of his own body to see his prick sliding in and out between the boy's beautiful, reddened lips. And Chase was looking up at him, eyes fastened on his face, hot and eager.

William couldn't help it. He thrust much harder than he had, his cock sliding down Chase's throat. The boy tensed starting to choke, and the squeezing motion set off William's orgasm. He pulled back quickly, letting Chase gasp, and shot his load into the boy's open mouth. Chase, far from being distressed, swallowed, then started trying to lick the dribbles of come off his lips.

William knelt before him, embracing him. His arms went around Chase, took hold of his wrists, and pulled them apart, gently pulling them around till Chase was embracing him, too. "Scene's over, baby." Chase laid his head on William's shoulder, sighing. William stroked his back. "Look, I'm sorry about right there at the end. I kind of got carried away."

Chase tilted his head to look up at William, and gave him an impish smile. "Good."

Notes: **In Hello, Kitty

"You need to wash up, kiddo?" asked William.

"Mmm," Chase murmured. He gave a small wiggle. "I got... sweaty."

William kissed him. "Yes, you did."

Chase lifted William's arm and ran a finger down his gauntlet. "How did you get these on?"

"Used my teeth on the laces. I've had practise. C'mon." He pulled Chase to his feet and, holding his hand, led him back to the bedroom. He patted Chase on the butt, saying, "Go on. I'm going to check in the living room and see if it needs any policing." He started back toward the living room. "Mrs. Fieldstone is fairly unflappable, but I don't like to stretch the envelope."

Chase ran himself a bubble bath and settled in, humming and splashing contentedly in the lavender scented water. William had favored more spicy scented bath products, like sandlewood or citrus, but he'd laid in a supply of the flowery, sweet scents that Chase liked. He didn't spend as much time as he might have, wanting to spend as much time with William as possible.

Chase dried off sketchily, then wrapped himself in the large, fluffy white terrycloth robe. He'd found it waiting for him the second time he'd come over to William's house. Then William had led Chase to his dresser and shown Chase the empty drawer, then took him to the closet and showed him the empty space on the clothes bar. "For your things," said William. "I thought you might like to keep a few things here." He rubbed Chase's hip. "You let me keep some of my things at your place."

Chase had hugged the stuffing out of him.

Chase went out into the living room, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. It had slipped half over his face, but he knew where he was going. "Will, hon," he called, "Would you like me to fix dinner? I'm sure I can come up with something nice, since Mrs. Fieldstone keeps your kitchen so well stocked..."

"Thank you."

Chase eeped in shock, bumping into the wall. William, once again in his pants and shirt, was standing in the living room--with Mrs. Fieldstone beside him. "Oh, lord!" Chase whirled so fast that the hem of his robe floated up, giving a glimpse of the back of his thighs as he hied himself toward the bedroom.

Mrs. Fieldstone looked at William. "He'd have been right at home in the seventies. Probably would have streaked all over the place."

"I guess he didn't hear you knock," said William, a little weakly. He was fighting laughter. "I shouldn't laugh--I know he's embarrassed, but he's just so damn cute when he's flustered."

Mrs. Fieldstone handed over the garment bag. "You take that and I'll start dinner for you two." William started to say something, but she cut him off. "And don't try to tell me I don't have to. I'll start feeling guilty if I'm not allowed to earn my paycheck." She started for the kitchen, then paused, went back, and picked up a spray bottle, a brush, and a damp cloth from the coffee table. "Is there any reason I should know about that would be cause for there being Spot Solver out here?"

"I... uh... spilled something."

"Great stuff, isn't it?" She carried the items back into the kitchen.

William closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head, and muttered, "Busted." Chase came creeping out of the hall, stuffing his shirt tail into his pants, looking around nervously. "You're safe, Godiva. She's in the kitchen."

Chase went over and sat on the sofa, knees tight together, hands clasped on his knees. "She's going to think I'm some sort of a pervert."

"No, she just thinks I have a good love life--and she's right." William sat beside Chase. "She's making dinner, so you can just relax."

"Okay, but Will--cooking does relax me. You should know that by now."

"Okay, bad choice of terms. You can take it easy--how's that?"

"Better." Hands still clasped, Chase tilted sideways, leaning against him. "Will? Are things always that intense?"

William put an arm around him, then rubbed Chase's arm. "Not always. It all depends on the people involved, their mood, what they're looking for in the scene. Sometimes we just goof around. You know..." William gave an Oilcan Harry laugh. "Ah, me proud beauty! Yer in me power!"

Chase giggled, made his hands into fists, and pretended to beat on William's chest, saying in a falsetto, "No! No! A million times, no!"

In his normal voice William said, "Isn't that supposed to be 'a thousand times no'?"

"Well, you look so determined I figured I better up the ante."

William laughed. "God, you're fun. So, what do you think about my idea for our costumes?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" said Chase. "Of course if we travel there in costume, we'd better make sure we have the party invitations with us, just in case we get stopped by traffic cops. I'm definitely not going to want to be in a holding cell with a bunch of street toughs wearing that get up."

"No joke."

"I mean, maybe I have had a few prisoner fantasies, but in those I get to choose whoever's going to molest me. I had to look at those mugshots after that incident at the Flaming Flamengo**, and those are some majorly ugly people."

"Well, you have to remember, hon--they'd all just been arrested, probably after an altercation with the police. No one is going to look their best in a situation like that. But you're right. I couldn't count on them locking us up together, so I could knock heads if someone tried to mess with you."

"My warrior," Chase cooed.

Mrs. Fieldstone stepped into the living room, and Chase sat up abruptly. "I just wanted to know if you boys would prefer your chicken with dumplings, or in a pot pie."

"I vote for the pot pie," said William calmly. "Chase?"

"Whatever's easiest," he said haltingly.

Mrs. Fieldstone shook her head. "No. You're a guest, Chase. Don't be afraid to say what you really want." She pointed. "And don't just agree with him if you'd really prefer the dumplings. It'd be good for him to not get his way once in a while."

"Do you make your own crust, or use a frozen one?"

"Don't insult me, son."

"Then I'd like a pot pie, too, please." She nodded and went back to the kitchen. "She sounded just like my Mom then. Of course I very seldom had to do without what I wanted, if I really wanted it, and it wasn't just a whim."

"Well, that's how it is. Parents don't deny their kids just for the sake of teaching them that they can't have everything." He thought. "Well, they shouldn't. It's like tripping your kid during a race just to prove to them that no one wins all the time."

William brought Chase home later that evening, parking the Thunderbird at the curb in front of their apartment building. Chase grabbed the grocery sack sitting beside him and leaned over to kiss William. "Thanks, hon. I've had a terrific day."

"Me, too."

Chase opened the door and got out, then turned around when he heard the driver's side door open. "Will, what are you doing?"

William came around the car as Chase spoke, and took the sack out of his arms. "Walking my fella to his front door, of course."

"My mother is going to love you. When I was approaching dating age, before I told her I was gay, she drilled into me the fact that I wasn't going to be one of those boys who drove up, sat in his car, and honked the horn for the girl to come out. That never came up since I didn't date girls, and I still don't drive."

They'd arrived at the front door, and Chase unlocked it. Taking the bag from William again he said, "Come in for a minute and say hello to Mona."

"Sure."

They stepped inside to find Mona and Duke sitting close together on the sofa. Duke was combing her hair, and Mona was pulling her shirt down just a little farther. "Are we interrupting anything?" asked Chase with mock innocense.

Mona got up and took the grocery sack. "You'd better have something good to eat in here to make up for your sass, boy."

"Oh, I don't know." Chase reached inside and pulled out a small clear plastic bag. At first it looked like a jumble of plastic balls and strips. Closer inspection showed it to be a package of black plastic spiders. "Have you developed a Renfield complex?" He looked at William. "There HAS to be an official name for that."

"I know that entomophagy is the eating of bugs," said William. "I believe that with spiders it's called arachnomophagy." The others stared at him. "What? I took some basic psychology courses because I knew they'd come in handy in business."

"Do you run into many clients who consume six and eight legged beasties?" asked Chase curiously.

"No. Usually they just devour smaller companies. A few have tried to target Lakeland Limited." He gave a shark-like grin. "I had to chastise them. In fact, I swallowed up a couple of them who had ambitions beyond their scope."

Chase put a hand over his heart. "You're so ruthless. I love you." He kissed William again. "Now, unless you're prepared to sit around and help me weave spider webs, you might as well go home."

"Okay." He kissed Chase again. "Call you tomorrow, babe." He winked at Mona as he left.

Duke snorted. "That man is po-po whipped." Chase stuck out his tongue at her. "Ain't impressed."

"You're just jealous because he has a fantastic classic car," Chase accused.

"Nah. I'm pissed because he don't seem to be interested in buying a custom motorcycle. I could use the commission."

"You hungry, Chasey?" asked Mona. "There's some Colonel Sanders in the kitchen--extra crispy, like you like."

"No, thanks." Chase patted his flat belly. "His housekeeper stuffed us. I'm getting her recipe for chicken pot pie. She uses a cheese sauce instead of plain gravy."

"The man has a housekeeper?" said Duke.

"I told you he was rich," said Mona.

"I thought you meant he could pay his bills on time," said Duke. "That qualifies as rich to me."

"Well, I got my eye on that last biscuit..." said Mona. Duke started to say something, and Mona said quickly, "and if there's any comments about plump thighs you can have you choice of the couch or the front steps." Duke held up her hands, palms out in a 'not me' gesture.

Mona went into the kitchen, and Duke grinned at Chase, whispering, "I've always been a breast man, anyway."

"Chauvinist," said Chase cheerfully. He sat on the sofa beside her, rummaged in the bag, and unloaded several spools of white twine. Whistling softly to himself he loosened the end on of spool, unrolled several feet of twine, and wove the thread in an intricate pattern over his fingers, then started to work knots into the thread. In just a few moments he had the beginning of a web, and was working around it in an ever growing circle.

Duke watched with idle interest. "How do you do that?"

"It's not hard. This is just the macrame version of a Granny Square--the same thing over and over," said Chase. "By the time Halloween rolls around I can have one big enough to catch a school of dolphins. Are you coming to the Halloween party?"

Duke examined her nails, opened a folding knife, and used it to clean a skim of grease out from under one. "Me? In a Goth bar?"

"Mona's going to come."

"It ain't exactly my style."

"I can probably get you some drink tickets."

"I'm there."

Mona came in, sucking a smear of butter off her thumb. "You're where?"

"Chase invited me to that Halloween party he's tatting that thing for."

"It's not tatting," said Chase. "Tatting is lace."

"Get picky on me, why don't you?"

Mona sat down between Chase and Duke, leaning her head on the other woman's shoulder. "You're either gonna have to come in costume or pay your own way," said Mona. "I haven't been making enough tips lately to splurge."

"Don't worry about it," said Duke, putting her arm around Mona. "I already got an idea for something cool."

"Are you going to come as Grace Jones?" asked Chase, eyes fixed on his work.

"I may be tall enough," said Duke dryly, "but even I'm not butch enough, and besides, I don't want to risk scaring little children."

Mona nodded agreement. "I like butch, but if Grace was coming after me, I'd run like a bitch."

Chase laid a spool of twine in Mona's lap. "There. Start on that."

"Say what?" said Mona. "Chase, I can't do that."

"Yes, you can. I showed you how to do the basic knots ages ago."

"I'm just too clumsy," she protested.

Chase stopped weaving for a moment and gave her a stern look. "Mona, I've seen you braid hair. You can't get away with that argument."

Mona took the spool and started to unwind it. "Maybe you're right, Duke," she muttered. "Maybe Will IS po-po whipped."

October 28

"Get a basket," Chase instructed as they walked into the grocery store. William picked up a plastic shopping basket, the sort that could be hung over an arm. "Oh, for heaven's sake, get one of the wheeled ones."

William put down the basket and pulled a cart out of the interlocked line near the door. "That wouldn't have been big enough?"

"You know how big a box of cereal is, don't you?" Chase showed William the list he'd brought. "Eleven boxes of cereal, just as a start."

"Wow. Okay."

"You're lucky that I'm being merciful to your pocket book and only doing my savory version of bar trash, and not my sweet one."

"Why aren't you doing a sweet one? It sounds good."

"Oh, it is, it is. I'll have to make it for you sometime."

"Why not now? Look, if the only consideration is price, I'm happy to buy the ingredients. You know that."

"Truthfully? It's not just my consideration for your finances. There's space to be considered. You've seen the kitchen space I have to work with. I'm making this the night before, and I'm going to be pushed to find the space to store it, much less make it."

"Well, why don't you come over and cook everything at my place? I'll help."

They'd been heading for the cereal aisle, and Chase halted abruptly, staring at William. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. Do you want to?"

"Didn't you notice my reaction to your kitchen? If I can work in that kitchen I might very well have an orgasm without you touching me." Chase pointed at him. "I AM going to make both versions--just for you." He started pulling boxes of cereal off the shelf and tucking them neatly in the basket. "Three boxes each of each flavor of Chex, two of Cheerios. That takes care of the plain mix. Now, for the sweet one... Honey Nut Cheerios, Golden Grahams, and Sugar Pops."

"I'm getting hyperglycemia just listening."

"I warned you."

"No, that's a good thing."

"Let's see... Snacks and nuts are over here." He got bags of pretzels (regular stick and tiny twists of honey-mustard), several large cans of mixed nuts, jars of honey roast peanuts, and bags of toffee peanuts.

When Chase grabbed a bag of the last ingredient William said, "Get another one of those." When Chase dropped it in the basket, William fished it out again and opened it, taking several and popping them in his mouth. He munched as Chase stared at him. "What? I'm going to pay for them."

"It could be worse. I've seen people do that with grapes, cherries, and strawberries, saying they're going to pay for them. I always want to go, 'Oh, you're going to provide them with your weight before you came in the store, then climb on a scale? Because they charge by weight, you know.' Okay, crackers. Can't go wrong with the simple things." He started to pull boxes off the shelf. "Wheat Thins, Ritz, Cheese Ritz, no saltines, though. They're a weeny bit too salty for the more delicate cheeses."

"You'll have to do those just before the party, or the cheese will dry out."

"Not if we don't actually put the cheese on the crackers. We provide the crackers and cheese, and they build their own. That way they get the combinations they want and we don't end up with a dozen poor little shriveled bits." Chase was studying his list, checking off items. "Melba toast, rye rusks..." He wrinkled his nose. "Those are a little strong, but they'll be good with the bland cheeses. Chips. Corn chips, Fritos..."

"I thought Fritos are corn chips?"

"They are, but you don't use them for nachos. You use WHITE CORN chips for nachos, you use Fritos for Frito pie. I learned that from a friend from Texas. She nearly had a fit when I called it a corn chip casserole. Wavy chips to hold the dips. For a small party I'd make my own bean dip and salsa, but not this time." He was pulling cans and jars off the shelf. William's head moved back and forth, following him as he loaded the cart. Amused, Chase said, "Are you regretting offering to foot the bill yet?"

"No way. I'm just fascinated. I've never thrown a party and fixed my own stuff. I always use caterers."

"God, and you call me spoiled. I am, however, making the California dip myself, so we need about a quart or so of sour cream from the dairy section, and a box or two of dried onion soup mix from the soup aisle. Oh, and a couple of bags of shredded sharp cheddar. This will take us close to the deli, and we can grab the other cheeses. I hope they have some good spreads--port wine, and maybe a seafood, just to be special. You know, if I thought it would be eaten, I'd do a classic 1950s or 60s party spread. I'm afraid that the general population has lost their taste for celery stuffed with pimento or pinapple cheese spread, though." William made a face. "Exactly. They were also very big on olives. I like to use them as garnish, but I always end up picking them off whatever I'm eating. Let's see... We need to hit this aisle."

"Baking mixes? I thought you said that baking would be too much trouble."

"Well, aside from the sausage-cheese balls, and those are super simple. No, we're going here not just for the biscuit mix for the sausage balls, but this is where they keep the syrups, and consequently, the honey." He picked up a large squeeze bottle and wiggled it at William. "I could do the sweet trash with maple syrup, but that sort of overwhelms some of the other flavors."

"Mm." William was eyeing the bottle. Now he looked at Chase and smiled slyly. "You going to need all of that for your cooking?"

"Well, most of it, but there should be some left over for your pancakes, if you want."

William wiggled his eyebrows. "That isn't what I was thinking about topping with it."

Chase giggled. "Don't you go giving me ideas this close to the baby formula aisle, you evil man." He took another bottle off the shelf. "Just in case."

"Uh-huh."

They picked up tubes of spicy sausage in the meat section, and packages of sliced ham, turkey, salami, and pepperoni. "I'm afraid that I'm going to be responsible for a lot of dragon breath, but I can't resist the more garlicky varieties. Here's the deli--Oh, good! They're having a sale--buy one, get one of equal or lesser value half price. See? I can be an economical shopper." While he spoke, Chase was loading wheels, bricks, and wedges of all sorts of cheeses into the cart. He grabbed a couple of items that were hanging over the section, displayed on a board. "And a few cheese slicers, because knives are just really no good for this. They'll end up with half the cheese clinging to the knife, and the cheese itself simply mutilated. Condiments aisle, and that should do it."

In the condiments aisle they got seasoned salt, garlic salt, hot sauce, and Worcestershire sauce. On the way to the check out, William grabbed a six pack of beer off a sales display. There was a customer just leaving one stand as they arrived, and William quickly wheeled the cart into the emptly slot. The checker was a thin girl wearing the usual store smock. The difference was that her hair was done in a multitude of inky spikes, and she had a stud in her left eyebrow, and a ring in her right nostril. She grinned at Chase. "Hey, Chase. How you doing, cutie-pie?"

"Hi, Lisabet." He glanced at William. "I do most of my shopping here, and Mona does Lisabet's hair."

"I wasn't asking for an explination," said William calmly. "I know you have a lot of friends."

Lisabet started running items over the scanner. "Wow. Kinda stockin' up, aintcha?"

"I'm doing the snacks for the party at The Catacombs. Will you be there?"

She grinned, her hand never slowing as she swept the groceries over the electronic reader. "You better believe it! I'm gonna be Wednesday Addams--television version. Already got the headless dolly."

"Sounds great, but is your hair long enough to manage braids?"

"That's why God gave us hair extensions, dude." She was eyeing the contents of the basket. "Didn't you forget something?"

William blinked. Even he hadn't been able to keep track of everything Chase had stuffed in the cart. "Give me a hint," said Chase.

"Cheese section," said the girl. "Most popular..."

Chase slapped his forehead. "How could I forget that? Mona would have my head. I'll be right back." He dashed back into the store.

Lisabet continued checking. "You're Chase's friend, right?"

William nodded. "William."

"Glad to meetcha. He was twittering about you last time I saw him at one of the clubs." She giggled. "he reminds me of my niece when he gets going. He'd be a great boyfriend if he wasn't gay."

"He's a great boyfriend anyway."

She made a face, then smiled. "Sure. My bad."

"No problem."

Chase came trotting back and laid another box in the cart. William looked at it, then stared. "That is the biggest block of Velveeta I've ever seen."

"Institutional size. If there's any left, Mona will bring it home. She says that when she was growing up she ate so much of the government's surplus cheese that brand name Velveeta was a huge treat. We're molded by our childhood. I'm just glad that we're storing everything at your house, because that would not survive intact till Halloween."