Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Santiago Jones
Part of me regretted making a reservation for the night, because I itched to go home with Dean and Gael. I wanted us to close ourselves in and spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching movies and reenergizing with snacks and zero personal space.
But this worked too. It truly did. Aftercare chatting was never wrong. Kingsley, Jack, Franklin, Walker, and Macklin headed home shortly after because they had work early in the morning, but KC and Noa stayed. River, Reese, and Shay stayed. We ordered takeout that arrived by the time we were out of the showers and in comfortable clothes, and we gathered three couches around a table in the club area downstairs.
It did Gael and Noa good to spend time together after the play. Noa was as little as he got after an intense scene, and I believed my boy was experiencing some of that now too.
The boys got two Happy Meals each; Shay and I pretended to be healthy with McDonald’s salad options, and the others unwrapped burgers of various sizes.
“Daddy, can we switch places?” Gael asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I stood up and sat down in the middle instead. He grinned and immediately fell into a conversation with Noa.
I skipped the dressing, which earned me a wry smile from Dean, and he was misinterpreting my intention. I just wasn’t a fan of this food. I’d eaten too much of it over the years—that was the problem. It did something to my moods, to my state of mind, and to my joints.
If they wanted to see me pig out, just wait. Nachos and queso, rare steaks that would alarm any doctor, my mother’s chocolate chips cookies and chuchuflís with dulce de leche filling—and don’t fucking get me started on the waffles at Gael’s work…? Damn. But I was done with the millions of additives. My body couldn’t handle them anymore. I hadn’t realized what a big part they’d played in my semi-depressed state before I’d started cooking for Gael and Dean—before returning to the man I’d been many times in bursts of “I gotta get my shit together.”
The one I had to keep an eye on now was Dean. I was falling in love with the bastard, and I wasn’t going to lose him to a heart attack.
Gael was easier. So was falling for him. He was constantly on his feet, happy to help out, and he knew more than I did about cutting out stress. He liked his world small. He wanted friends, our community, and preferably his own library.
I chewed around a mouthful of chicken and lettuce, and I checked my watch. Gael and Noa were giggling about theories on the upcoming Game, and Dean and KC were quizzing the Tenleys about the progress on their house.
It was funny how life worked. Had this been an orgy a few months ago, I would’ve suggested we go out for a couple beers or go straight for round two.
“I’ve driven up this road hundreds of times, and I’ve never seen a left turn anywhere,” KC chuckled.
Shay let out a laugh. “First time they showed me the build site, they were like, meet us there—take a left before the gates. And I was like, gates? There are gates here?”
I grinned. Even I knew about the gates. They were just fairly well hidden behind high grass and weeds at this point. I didn’t think they’d ever been closed. But they were right at the beginning of the private road.
“When do you think the house will be ready?” Dean wondered.
River and Reese eyed each other pensively.
“We’re shootin’ for April or May,” Reese replied. “I said I wasn’t movin’ in till the AC was runnin’ and the pool was ready.”
I wondered how many months it would take me to convince Dean and Gael to move in with me. Because I had a feeling I’d be ready within six months—but then to win over a stubborn professor…?
I had my work cut out for me.
* * *
On the other hand, I had the most potent weapon.
Gael.
When he gave Dean a pout and said he “sort of, kind of” wanted to go home with Daddy, Dean didn’t even hesitate. He went up to our guest room and grabbed our bags.
After I’d Venmo’d Reese for the cleaning fee, we made plans to meet up soon. Aside from the event, of course. KC wanted us to come over for dinner sometime as well, and I was looking forward to that. Gael shared a bit with both Noa and Cam, and he clearly got along well with them. After tonight, it was safe to say I got along well with KC too. If we ended up in another group-play event, I wouldn’t mind spending time between him and Dean. KC and I had interrogation kink in common, to boot. Imagining what we could come up with together…should make the boys tremble a little.
When all was said and done, I got behind the wheel to the sound of Dean’s grunt and Gael’s yawn, and I couldn’t fucking wait to get us home.
Thank fuck it wasn’t a long drive.
Dean yawned too, and he gave my leg a squeeze. “Are you all right, darling? You’ve been quiet.”
I smiled tiredly and backed out of the carport. “Just itching to get us home.” I glanced at Gael in the rearview. “I’m in desperate need of cuddles.”
Our boy beamed, almost as tired as I was. “Me also, Daddy! Can we have cocoa and watch Band of Brothers?”
“Yes,” Dean answered, without missing a beat. “Abso-damn-lutely. We’re on episode six now, aren’t we?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I smirked to myself, already feeling better.
* * *
Friday went by too quickly. Dean worked from home, and Gael had the day off, but between finishing the painting, eating lunch and dinner together, going through our limits for the event tomorrow, and performing world-class aftercare on Gael’s sweet but bruised little ass, including cooling balm and kisses, it got dark while I was mentally on my lunch break. I wasn’t ready yet.
Both Dean and Gael passed out in front of a movie, so I spent a couple hours assembling furniture and finalizing some last-minute changes for the Game. The group chat was running hot; Greer had a suggestion for the geometry class, Colt added a bondage web for PE, and Ty wanted to make sure we’d all talked to our subs about what the biology class would entail.
I’d skipped that conversation with Gael because I’d picked up enough hints to know it wouldn’t be an issue with him. My boy wasn’t particularly into fear play, but he didn’t want all the details.
Before long, I got my men to go upstairs and into bed, and it never failed to make me grin when Gael went “Ouch!” as he landed at a weird angle and hurt his butt.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed, as had become usual, but I’d found a silver lining in it. I got to stretch out and snooze a few minutes to the sounds of Dean and Gael chatting downstairs.
I smiled into Gael’s pillow.
“…before we get ice cream!” Gael was saying. “That would be a nice outing, don’t you think, Daddy?”
“It sounds wonderful,” Dean replied. “Have you been there before?”
I yawned and rolled onto my back, and I scrubbed my hands over my face. I’d missed the mention of what museum they were discussing, but I was sure Gael had visited.
Eventually, I dragged my ass out of bed and took a quick shower before I got dressed and headed downstairs.
“Finally!” Gael lit up when he saw me. “Good morning, Daddy. I’ll grab coffee for you.”
If someone up there is listening, please give me this for the rest of my life.
* * *
He was last seen on CCTV at the Chevron close to where he lives, where he used his credit card to buy an energy drink. Exact time, 11:42 AM.
I checked my watch and climbed out of the truck. So with the time difference, Caleb was last seen in El Cerrito, just north of Berkeley, roughly an hour ago. Okay, I could relax for the time being—but something might be up. The lunch photo he’d posted right before we’d left the house had been taken two days ago, at the same location he’d had lunch then. Not of the same meal. He’d had a tuna salad two days ago, and the picture today showed a sandwich.
“Daddy, we gotta hurry!” Gael exclaimed. “Gretchen and Franklin are handing out clothes on the porch now!”
“You can run ahead,” I replied and pocketed my phone. “Grab a pair of shorts and a tie.”
“Okay!” The boy shouldered his backpack and hurried across the big lawn toward the house.
I went to grab my bag in the back seat, only to see Dean had taken it already.
“Everything okay?” He eyed me in a way that let me know he’d noticed my being distracted on the way over.
I sighed and figured I might as well tell him everything, and I sort of hoped he would call me paranoid. I mean, it wasn’t unheard of that people posted older photos like they were new. In today’s social media frenzy, humankind applied old-time preparedness as if we were facing an apocalypse. We always made sure we had pictures to post.
Dean and I walked at a slower pace as I explained what I’d found, and we were passed by an excited Kit when we were halfway to the house.
“Hello, Master Dean! Hello, Mister Santiago!”
He was already gone, so there was no time to reply. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Colt and Lucas at the carport. Then I refocused on Dean.
“Tell me I’m nuts,” I half joked.
At the same time, I did this for a living. I knew what I was doing. Caleb was stepping off his pattern, which had seemed forced to begin with, and I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was planning something.
Dean sidestepped a mud puddle in the middle of the lawn and furrowed his brow. “As fun as that would be, I can’t. His sudden return to the West Coast didn’t sit right with me. It seemed as if he was trying to establish an alibi and a sense of…nothing’s wrong here.”
Exactly.
“If anything, I’d like to help you,” he added. “He clearly needs to be watched.”
“There ain’t much you can do, love. We have surveillance where it’s allowed, and we’ve installed more security at Gael’s place,” I said. “But obviously, it’s best you and Gael stay with me until we know what Caleb’s up to.”
He grinned faintly and grabbed my hand. “Of course.”
* * *
Mclean House was the place for me. This was the community I wanted to invest my time, money, and energy in. They went above and beyond to make fantasies reality, and that was what I had missed.
Some of the texts in the group chat made more sense now. The downstairs club area had been emptied of sofas and tables, replaced by neatly organized wooden chairs that Greer had rented. The bar had been partially covered—well, the bottles were hidden behind a screen, and the bartop was now home to a coffee machine and a cookie jar. This was the faculty lounge, as it said on a sign. The platform where demos were usually hosted now had a podium and a line of chairs too. With a big backdrop on the wall with Mclean House Academy’s crest.
While the brats were treated to an orientation speech by Lucas on the porch, where nothing but outdoor heaters kept the members somewhat warm as they changed into their uniforms, the Tops got ready inside.
Those who wanted to enjoy the event as a spectator had an area reserved in the back of the club. That included some Tops who couldn’t participate but had their subs involved.
Greer, Colt, and I were PE coaches for the event, and we headed into Reese’s office to change into our own uniforms. Black tees with the Academy crest, black shorts, black socks, black sneakers, black headbands, and, of-fucking-course, whistles and stopwatches that hung around our necks.
“Kit don’t know it yet, but I’m more excited than he is,” Colt said.
I chuckled. That was probably true for most Tops. We’d have a goddamn blast.
“Is Gael a maso?” Greer asked.
I tipped my hand, weighing my response. “I don’t think he necessarily gets off on pain beyond the sensual kind, but he loves wearing bruises.”
I’d caught him this morning trying to take a picture of his cute butt in the mirror.
Greer smirked. “That’s maso in my book.”
“Just a whole other chapter from Corey,” Colt laughed.
“Oh yeah, don’t go easy on him today,” Greer chuckled. “I’ve been a sweetheart to him all week. You can say he’s frustrated.”
Colt lifted his brows. “Similar with Kit. Seriously, don’t hold back too much with him. He’s been tryin’ to rile me up since Valentine’s, when I let him know we’d provoke brats today.”
“Because we don’t do that otherwise?” Greer drawled.
I snorted in amusement.
“Gael’s a brat too, it’n he?” Colt asked.
“I wanna say yes, but we haven’t seen the extent yet,” I replied. “He’s testing the waters of submission first—to ground him a bit. He and Dean are slowly but surely establishing a servitude structure.”
I knew he had a brat in him, though. The goofball was alive and well, and I was ready for whatever degree he felt most natural.
“Huh.” Colt scratched his jaw. “I was a little surprised at first when Kit told me about the cooking class. I guess I thought Gael would be more Little like my boy—less focus on D/s.”
No, I’d had Gael pegged for a submissive right away.
“Are you sayin’ Kit’s not a sub?” Greer chuckled, confused.
“No, ’course he is—but that side of him appeared slowly over time,” Colt replied. “I mean the servitude shit. It was a couple things in the beginning, but it’s not until now—or the last couple of months—that he’s been asking for more chores and whatnot.” He nodded at Greer. “Your boys have definitely been an influence.”
I nodded, understanding that bit. Submission, as dominance, was fluid, and I was sure Gael would be affected by both Noa and Cam once they spent more time together.
A knock on the door ended our conversation, and I opened up to see a fine-as-fuck Reese in a three-piece suit standing there.
He sucked his teeth. “I shoulda been a coach.”
I laughed.
Greer put his hands on his hips and performed a couple lunges. “Can you do this, monkey suit?”
Colt cracked up at that too, whereas Reese gave us a bitch stare before storming off.
“Club area in thirty seconds!” he bellowed.
“I think you mean Great Hall!” Colt hollered back. He tugged at his shorts and tightened the drawstrings. “Maybe free-ballin’ it was a bad call.”
Greer and I had warned him.
We left the office together and headed for the club area, where every Top but us three was dressed to kill. Or teach at a preppy academy. Dean was delicious as always, though he looked mildly offended about everyone stereotyping his profession. Which was funny because he was the walking stereotype. He wore sweater vests sometimes, corduroy, and he even had a pocket watch.
Tonight, he’d dug out a brown suit, with a vest, and he was sexy as sin. Even I wanted to give him an apple and get an A+.
“Okay, everyone into position!” Penelope called out. She was rocking a snug pencil skirt, blazer, and high heels that I was sure Nora would appreciate.
All professors and coaches trailed over to the platform, where the suited-up professors sat down on chairs and we coaches positioned ourselves behind them.
I dipped down and kissed Dean’s cheek. “Gorgeous.”
He glanced back at me and gave me a once-over. “Tuck in your shirt, dear.”
I stifled a laugh and did as told. “Yes, Professor.”
His mouth twitched.
Our helpers were dressed nicely too. Franklin, Archie, Ivy, Gretchen, and someone named Anthony—I hadn’t met him before—had volunteered to help us run the event smoothly.
And in the far back, we had our audience. I noticed August and Ev were here, presumably to keep an eye on their pregnant Ivy.
“Gretchen, you may open the doors,” Penelope said.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Gretchen complied as Walker joined Penelope by the podium.
Within seconds, uniformed brats barged in from the patio—and Lucas, who unbuttoned his suit and took a seat on the platform. A buzz of excitement tore through the room, and it was difficult not to grin.
“Take a seat, students!” Penelope ordered.
“Oh wow, look at Master Kingsley.”
“A show of hands, who wants to be flogged by Master McKenna?”
“I just wanna point out it’s a fashion crime to wear dress shorts unless you’re a schoolboy in England or you play guitar for AC/DC.”
“Holy crap, look at the Tenleys.”
“Yeah, but look at my Daddy in that headband!”
At the sound of Kit’s giggle, I had to fake a cough to hide my amusement.
“What the fuck?” Colt muttered under his breath. “We’re fuckin’ fabulous.”
Of course we were, buddy. Of course we were.
Precisely nineteen subs filled the wooden chairs in front of the platform, and I saw Gael somewhere in the middle between Cam and Kit.
It warmed my heart to see him surrounded by friends. He was so visibly excited too.
Walker clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat, causing a few subs to shush the others, and the rush of conversation died down.
“Welcome to Mclean House Academy,” he stated, all business. “Before we begin, Professor West has the results from the last Game to share with us. Pay attention.”
Oh, right. That was the photo event. They’d called it Picture-Perfect. Competing dynamics had been tasked to submit three photos to represent a kink or two, and it’d culminated in an exhibit with a vote last month.
Lucas walked over to the podium, prepared with a few flashcards. “Hello, everyone. As promised at the last Game, we are going to announce the top three from the Picture-Perfect event in January, so I have with me the results of your votes. These three photos can be found in the hallway on the second floor, but after tonight, they will move down here and grace the wall in the lounge area.” He paused to flip to the next card. “At the exhibit, you each had ten points to distribute however you liked—with the exception that you couldn’t vote for your own photos—and this is how you voted.” The next pause was for dramatic effect, and it seemed to work. The subs were antsy to hear the results. “In third place, we have Master Jack and his Franklin with image six, titled At the End of the Day. Well done.”
“Go Gramps!” Noa cheered.
I smiled and applauded with the others, and it was endearing as fuck to see Franklin sufficiently taken aback. He was a sweet man—when he wasn’t crawling on his hands and knees for cock.
“In second place,” Lucas continued, “just six points behind first place, we have Master August, Ev, and Ivy with image thirty-two, Surrendering. Congratulations.”
We applauded again, and I made a mental note to have a look at the images later.
“Last of all, and yet at the very top!” Lucas spoke over the cheers. “KC and Noa take gold with image forty, The Doll Doesn’t Speak. A big round of applause!”
“Daddy, we won!” Noa shot up from his chair and fist-pumped the air. “Almost worth seven hours in makeup! Woo-hoo!”
I laughed and glanced over at KC, who grinned and shook his head.
“Fantastic job, everyone,” Lucas said with a smile in his voice. “We have a few honorary mentions too, mostly because they competed for fourth place with almost the same number of points in the end. So a job very well done to the Tenley triad and Master McKenna and his Macklin—and call me biased, but I’ll mention my own contribution with Colt and Kit as well. We finished in seventh place right after Ty and Lane’s wonderful Island Prey.”
Having not seen the photos myself, I could only soak up the contagious buzz in the room and vow to myself that this was only the first of many, many events for Dean, Gael, and me.
Hell, I’d already signed us up for the one in March, which was in just a little over two weeks. The events were usually held near the end of each month, but since so many members were going on that cruise then, they’d moved the Game.
Easter was coming early this year, and we’d enjoy a very fun Easter Egg Hunt.
With a twist.
Once the Picture-Perfect excitement settled, Walker returned to the podium, his mere presence causing everyone to pipe down.
“We have one more announcement to make,” he stated. “Since last month, we’ve had two new additions to our community. Santiago has finally joined us properly—”
“About damn time,” Colt said and clapped me on the back.
I chuckled.
“Tonight, he’s Coach Santiago,” Walker told the crowd. “Moreover, Nora is new with us as well. Welcome to Mclean House, Nora.”
“Yeah, welcome to House Mclean, Nor!” Corey hollered.
Reese shook his head.
“Thank you, Cor!” Nora responded cheekily, and Corey just grinned like a goof. I knew they’d originally come from the same community, Old Town.
I observed Penelope for a beat, though her expression didn’t reveal anything.
She was up next. “Settle down, students. Classes are about to begin, and you don’t want to miss any information.” She gave the subs a couple seconds to shut up. “Behind me, you see your Coaches and Professors for the evening, and Professor West has already assigned you to your study group.” There’d be four of those, with five subs in all but one. Group three, which was Gael’s group, had four students. “I am Headmistress Darling, and, together with Headmaster McKenna here, we will simply observe the classes, make sure you don’t misbehave—and deal with those who do.”
“Uh-oh,” I heard someone say.
“Outside each classroom on the second floor, you will find your schedules, but we’ll tell you where you’re going right after this,” Pen continued. “Group one, you’re off to Room 9 for geometry with Professors River and Reese Tenley and Professor Jack Dune. Group two, you will start in Room 5 for biology with Professor Ty Madison, Professor KC Hayles, and Professor Sloan Wallace. Group three, you can sit tight right here because PE takes place in the Great Hall with Coach Colt Carter, Coach Santiago Jones, and Coach Greer Finlay.”
Gael beamed at me, only a tad nervous, and I winked at him.
“Lastly, group four,” Penelope went on. “You’re going upstairs to Room 10 for your English class with Professor Lucas West and Professor Lucian Leroux.” She turned back to us in the faculty. “Professor Dean Aavik and Professor Kingsley Madden are on break the first thirty minutes.” Then she shifted her gaze to the students once more. “You will see them in your history class in Room 8 later. Now, here’s Headmaster McKenna with some rules. We love those here at Mclean House Academy.”
Walker joined her side. “We absolutely do. Number one, we do not spoil a class for the next study group. Do not share any details about the classes you’ve already had. No exceptions. If we find out any of you broke this rule, you’ll face some of our harshest punishments, all approved by your Owners.” When he spoke, fucking everyone sat up straighter. It was a sight to behold. He possessed the same level of authority in his voice as Dean and Lucian. “No cheating on your exams,” he continued. “If our Professors catch you cheating, you will not only be disqualified from the event, you will take a public over-the-knee spanking in the Great Hall at the end of the night.”
No brat dared say “Tempting,” though I was sure some of them thought about it.
“We have one rule for the audience as well,” he said. “All classrooms will be open for viewing—you’ll see a line on the floor, which you can stand behind. Just don’t arrive in the middle of the class. Our students are easily distracted by shiny objects, and we need their full attention.”
Colt coughed to hide his laugh as Tate slapped a hand over Noa’s mouth.
“You will be graded on performance, politeness, and ability to complete tasks,” Penelope declared. “We can give you points, and we can deduct points.”
“Crap,” Corey whispered, not too quietly.
“We’ll keep the scores to ourselves until we announce them online tomorrow,” Walker added. “Make us proud, students.”
Penelope had one more thing to say. “In between classes, you have a five-minute break. Use it wisely and don’t be late for your next class. There’re refreshments and snacks in the kitchen, aloe and tissues for your issues in the bathroom, and a teacher’s assistant outside every classroom to handle any questions you might have.”
“First class begins in sixty seconds,” Walker finished.
“Oh my gosh.” Gael shot right up, only to freeze. “No, wait. I’m supposed to be right here.”
I felt my shoulders shake with silent laughter, and Dean chuckled into his fist.
“Group one, upstairs!” Macklin called.
Colt, Greer, and I had a quick job to do before the class began, so as the subs rushed toward the foyer and the stairs, we left the platform and began stacking the chairs together then placing them by the nearest wall.
“No running on the stairs!” Reese barked out in the foyer.
“Oh my God, you’re so strict!” I heard Noa yell back. “Don’t you want us to be on time?”
“Are you giving me attitude?” Reese replied warningly.
Colt laughed to himself.
Approximately ten of the audience, of which I estimated there were about thirty, headed off to watch other classes. Dean and Kingsley lingered in the doorway since they were on “break,” and both had their boys in the third group.
“Y’all can form a nice line at the center of the floor,” Colt commanded.
While Greer tore down the backdrop, revealing the impressive bondage web attached to the wall, I went for the three big boxes next to the stage.
The bondage web was larger than I’d anticipated, and someone in the bondage community must’ve put it together. It resembled a spider web and went from floor to ceiling, so roughly eleven feet high and just as wide.
It’d be fun watching the brats climb it.
“Is that candy attached to the web?” Corey asked.
Greer and I glanced back at the rope web.
“Sure looks like it, don’t it?” Greer replied, folding his arms over his chest. “All right—welcome to PE, group three. Coach Santiago will do a roll call, and you respond present. Understood? Good.”
I inclined my head and picked up a clipboard from one of the boxes—along with a pen. We’d attached a blank piece of paper to it for “note keeping.”
“Corey,” I said.
“Yeah?”
I lifted my brows.
“Oh shit. I mean, present!”
I felt my mouth twitch. They were too fucking adorable, the brats. “Gael?”
“Present!”
“Tate.”
“Present, Sir.”
“Nobody likes a brownnoser, dude,” Corey told him.
“Write up Corey for insolence,” Greer said.
I nodded and jotted down Corey’s name and insolence, minus one point.
“Fuck,” Corey whispered.
“Last but not least, Cam,” I said.
“Present, Sir,” he answered.
“I’m just gonna shut up.” Corey pretended to zip his mouth closed and throw away the key.
Probably for the best.
“So what can we say about PE?” Colt asked a rhetorical question as he began a slow stroll around our four students. “Physical health is important. So is taking care of our equipment…” He dipped down between Corey and Gael, from behind, and spoke close to Corey’s ear. “Any witty remark on that?”
Oh, Corey was struggling. “No, Sir. I agree, it’s important to take care of our equipment. Keep it clean and stuff.”
“And sorted,” Colt added. “We’re going to start with that. In front of you, you see three boxes of gear.” As he spoke, I removed the remaining lids, revealing a jumbled mix of countless floggers, handcuffs, and plugs. “You have sixty seconds to sort the toys—floggers in one box, cuffs in another, and butt plugs in the last. And you’ll do this blindfolded. You now have ten seconds to collaborate.”
Greer got his stopwatch ready while Colt walked behind the bar to grab the blindfolds.
“I’ll put floggers in the right box,” Tate whispered hurriedly. “Gael and Cam, gather the plugs in the center box—Corey, you do cuffs in the left.” All boys tried to peer inside the boxes to get a closer look, and they nodded at Tate’s suggestion.
I made a couple notes. Group three, teamwork, initiative by Tate.
Colt returned with the blindfolds and put them on one by one. Gael was studying the contents until his vision was blocked by the fabric.
Greer and I exchanged a grin before we went over to join Colt, and then we got our fun. Or the first part of our fun, I should say. I started with Tate, sensing he was better focused than Corey and Gael.
We spun them around. Colt took care of Cam and Gael at the same time, leaving Greer to make his own boy dizzy.
“What the—!”
“I’d shut up if I were you, brat,” Greer told him.
A few more rapid circles, and then Colt said, “Sixty seconds on the clock—now!”
We stepped aside and let the boys fumble and steady themselves, not without protests. Oh my gosh, where are we? Is it this way? I can’t see you, so I don’t know! Fucking hell, just—let’s try this way. It’s slightly brighter by the patio doors.
Good observation by Tate. I made another note.
Then someone coughed over in the audience, and Cam picked up on it.
“It’s gotta be this way.” He felt around blindly till he grabbed on to Gael and sent him in the correct direction, followed by Corey and Tate. The latter was already on his way there.
“Thirty seconds left!” Greer announced.
“Fuck.” Tate found the boxes by the platform first and fell to his knees. “Follow the sound!” He shook the boxes, rattling the collection of handcuffs.
To their credit, they got started immediately, tossing the toys around and into the boxes they’d previously agreed.
“It’s one point per correctly sorted toy,” Colt said.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Corey urged.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!”
“Crap, crap, flogger in the right one,” Gael rambled.
I grinned.
“Four! Three! Two! One!” Colt blew the whistle. “Back away from the boxes!”
* * *
“Every second counts!” Greer yelled.
“Push it!” I tossed the tennis ball to Tate, who groaned and caught it.
Catching tennis balls was easy enough, but they had to do it while performing wall-sits, as in, they pressed their backs against the wall and kept their knees at a ninety-degree angle, heels touching the floor. Some called it the devil’s chair, and that seemed accurate enough for me.
“Fuck it, I can’t!” Tate lost the strength in his legs and collapsed on the floor about two seconds before Gael went down with a yelp.
“All right, Tate and Gael don’t wanna train their quads—it’s up to you two now!” Greer gathered a few more tennis balls.
I did the same.
When I tossed one to Corey and he didn’t catch it, he let out a long “Nooo!” and I went forward again and twisted his nipples through his shirt. “Ouch, goddammit!”
“All this bitchin’ and moanin’,” Colt muttered with a shake of his head.
Tate and Gael glared weakly as they tried to catch their breath.
I’d lost count of the times I’d failed to hide my laughter.
* * *
“Twenty seconds on the clock—go!” I barked out.
Cam sprinted up on the platform and started picking candy off the web, each piece attached with a nipple clamp. He could only get one before he had to return to the edge of the stage and drop the candy into a bucket. Then rinse and repeat, back to the web.
“Come on, Cam, you can do it!” Gael jumped and clapped.
“Remember, if you don’t grab the one at the very top, no pieces count,” Greer reminded.
“Yeah, I heard you the first three times,” Cam bit out.
I chuckled under my breath and made a quick note. Cam was getting testy. He was one of those sweethearts who kept his inner brat on a tight leash, so when he let go, he was fucking done.
“I’m so glad politeness is important for a good grade,” Colt mentioned.
“Right?” I checked the stopwatch. “Ten seconds to go, Cam.”
Cam grunted and started climbing the web to snatch the top piece. “I remember now why I hated PE in high school.”
“Because you didn’t have us as coaches?” I asked.
“That’s gotta be it.” Greer nodded.
Cam huffed.
“Four seconds—three, two…”
Cam rushed over to the bucket and tossed the lollipop in there, then promptly bent over to rest his hands on his thighs and pant.
I walked over to the bucket, counting seven pieces, including the top-positioned lollipop. It looked real tasty, so I picked it up and unwrapped the sweet.
“Isn’t that for us?” Corey gaped at me.
I stuck the lollipop in my mouth and raised a brow.
“Why would it be for you?” Greer followed suit and snatched up a couple chocolates. “This is PE, not some candy class. We’re here to keep you on your toes.”
“By eating our candy!” Gael laughed.
“It was never yours to begin with, little one.” Colt ruffled my boy’s hair and grabbed a fun-sized packet of Junior Mints.
Tate sucked his teeth. “All right. Are we done here? I’m fucking drenched.”
Oh-ho. I shifted the strawberry lollipop from one cheek to the other and picked up my clipboard. “Attitude from Tate. Noted.”
Corey legit balled his hands into fists. “I’m. So. Over. The. Notebooks.”
Greer tossed me a smirk. “It’s possible I have one at home. Kid gets riled up every time I make a note.”
I let out a laugh. That was a good idea.
“Don’t even think about it, Daddy,” Gael blurted out.
Oh really? Don’t even think about it?
Colt and Greer shook their heads at the boy.
“I reckon that’s one for insolence there too,” I said, dropping my gaze to the clipboard. “Gael getting bossy with his superiors—won’t look good on your report card, chiquito.”
“But it’ll look great in my brat book,” Corey told him. “I think we should start our own note keeping. You just scored ten points.”
The smug grin on Gael’s face was full of promise. No shit, he had a brat in him, waiting to be unleashed.
I couldn’t fucking wait.
* * *
Since Colt, Greer, and I had our break for the next thirty minutes, we let a couple assistants prepare our stations again while we headed in different directions to spy on our brats. Well, Greer and I aimed for Room 5, and Colt was off to find Kit.
I discarded my lollipop along the way.
Room 5 was one of the two shower rooms on the second floor, and it was completely covered in white tiles, from floor to ceiling. Including a bench or two where one could sit or drop towels. But for the biology class, Ty had gotten his hands on a lab table that he’d wheeled in there. He—and I presumed Lane—had also brought a lizard and a snake.
Sloan and KC had used their meager event budget to rent five study desks and lab coats.
“Hi, Daddy!” Corey was excited to see Sloan.
Greer and I walked in as the boys got seated, and we weren’t alone. A handful of members from the audience were here too, and we stayed behind the red tape on the floor.
“That’s Ziggy and Tank!” Corey pointed at the reptiles in their enclosures on the table. “Nobody has to be afraid—they’re super friendly. Ziggy is my cousin’s California kingsnake, and Tank is Ty’s blue-tongued skink.”
Gael wasn’t afraid of lizards, but Cam and Tate were clearly not fans.
“Unfortunately, I’m dating someone who’s obsessed with reptiles and creepy-crawlies,” Cam muttered. “Noa even rescues moths and spiders.”
Okay, I drew the line at bees. I saved bees, and I occasionally let a spider outside—unless I knew it was venomous. Those shits got flushed down the toilet.
Ty waited patiently at the lab table, half leaning back against it. Sloan folded his arms over his chest, and KC shifted in his wheelchair.
Out of the three, I knew KC was the wild card. Someone whose threshold for mischief was insanely high, because he loved brats more than anything, but once that line was crossed…
I’d only gotten a glimpse of it myself, but I’d read some of Noa’s and Cam’s writings online.
“We’ll be quiet now, Professors!” Corey promised.
“By all means…” Ty shrugged and stuck his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “I’m not the one in need of a good grade.”
I was looking forward to getting to know Ty better. He and Lane were Walker and Macklin’s partners, and I’d heard a thing or two about Ty and his boy being into hedonism.
That was me when I visited my mother’s family in Chile. If I wasn’t up in the mountains at my abuelito’s ranch, I was with my tias outside Atacama, where they ran a beach resort for hipsters. I had my own beach hut there. Surfing, fishing, gorging on fruit, catching sun—it was heaven. One day, I was gonna take Dean and Gael there.
“When you’re ready to actually learn something, you may remove your ties and shirts,” KC instructed.
Gael threw a glance over his shoulder, spotting me here, and I gave him an encouraging smile. He had nothing to worry about.
He smiled tentatively in return and began loosening his tie.
Greer leaned closer to me. “You workin’ on his body issues?”
I inclined my head. “Stubborn insecurity—but he’s come a long way already.”
“That’s good. He’s cute as shit.”
That he was.
It became clear that KC and Sloan were in charge of the first part of the class, and the boys went rigid when KC pulled out a Wartenberg wheel. Its sharp little points gleamed in the bright lights, and it understandably stole most of the focus from the boys.
“I want you to listen carefully here,” Sloan warned. “There will be a test at the end of the class, so pay attention to what we say. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Professor Daddy,” Corey responded.
“Yes, Professor Wallace,” the others followed.
What came next was an impressive harangue from Sloan about how many nerve endings we had in our nipples, something about sensory receptors, and why men had them. Truth be told, it was difficult to concentrate when KC was running the pinwheel across the boys’ nipples “to demonstrate.” And even though Greer and I only saw their backs from our position, it was entertaining to watch them tense up and giggle nervously.
I leaned closer to Greer this time. “We should add a couple pinwheels to the Easter eggs next month.”
“Fuck yeah,” he whispered back. “It’s an underrated tool.”
It definitely was.
“We hope you paid attention because this will be on the test,” Sloan finished. “Now, here’s Ty to discuss asphyxiation.”
Well, hey. I was listening. Breath play was hot, and it was a kink I enjoyed being on the receiving end of as well. As Dean could attest.
Ty had already brought out the snake for this bit, a black-and-white—what was it Corey had called it?—California something. The snake was fairly long, about twenty inches or so, though it wasn’t easy to tell when it coiled up around Ty’s hand and wrist.
“Ironically, this little constrictor is a biter,” he started by saying. “The California kingsnake is one of our most popular snakes to keep as pets, but they’re equally famous for being docile as they are for biting when irritated. Where most snakes might try to escape and hide, this one has the attitude of a brat.”
“Just great,” Tate sighed.
Ty walked between the desks so all the brats could get a close-up. “But as I indicated, the kingsnake chokes their prey to death, despite not actually being part of the constrictor family. In fact, it’s a colubrid snake—and it’s still the strongest constrictor of them all. This guy will take out a Burmese of the same size.”
“Pardon me, Professor…?” Gael raised his hand. “May we write notes?”
“That would be useful—but no.” Ty smiled and returned to his lecture. “The California kingsnake’s ability to choke out their prey so expertly, even though it’s a slender fella, is useful because it’s one of those snakes that enjoys snacking on rattlesnakes. For which Californians are ever thankful. And this is where scientists theorize that maybe the kingsnake has evolved over thousands of years—to become this strong—because it’s required in order to kill another snake that doesn’t need as much oxygen as most mammals do.” He returned to the front, where he eased Ziggy back into his enclosure. “I remember when I went to a kink party about twelve years ago and witnessed my first asphyxiation scene.” He glanced back at the boys. “One might’ve thought that guy was a constrictor. The douchebag went straight for his girlfriend’s windpipe.”
Excellentclass. What he said couldn’t fucking be stressed enough.
KC cleared his throat. “Even though we call it breath control, we know it’s not primarily about cutting off a bottom’s air supply. Can someone tell me what we regulate during an asphyxiation scene?”
I was relieved to see four hands in the hair.
“Gael.” KC nodded.
“The oxygen going to the brain, Professor,” Gael responded politely.
That’s my boy.
“Correct—good job,” KC said. “We’re gonna do a quick demo on a volunteer—”
“I volunteer!” Corey shot right up from his seat, causing Greer to shake with silent laughs.
Sloan too.
“Okay, that’s a lot of excitement—I’m just pointin’ it out,” Ty drawled. “After the demo, we’re gonna discuss ovoviviparity before we give you a fun quiz with forty-five questions from today’s class.”
All of a sudden, you could hear a pin drop, and Corey slumped down in his seat again.
“Forty-five?” Cam whispered.
Ty was happier now.
Greer nudged me. “We should probably get ready for our next brat surge.”
Yeah, sadly. Damn.