"And more power and speed than an Indy 500 race car," Trenton said cheerfully. He had insisted that Bryant take the padded swivel chair, and had brought another chair from the dining area to sit beside him. ("I'm used to it. Clive and I cruise the 'net together a lot, and I can't sit on his lap all the time.") "It took me forever to talk Clive into buying a 'puter, but when he buys something, he goes for quality. Just click on that icon there for a connection."

Bryant did. "How long can we stay on?"

"Till you're sick of it. Clive sprang for unlimited access." Trent grinned. "I introduced him to fanfiction a few months ago and he didn't stop sitting up till all hours reading it till I pointed out that he was getting circles under his eyes. He said he wasn't ready to go for the 'debauched' look and started sleeping reasonable hours again."

Bryant gave Trenton a curious look. "You told him to go to bed, and he just did it?"

Trenton laughed heartily. "No! Gah, me ordering Clive around--what a concept. I just made an observation as a friend and he respects me enough to take it seriously. Okay, what do you want to do first? Have you got an email account yet? There are a lot of places you can get one for free..."

Clive left Lynette to close up at Attitudes, promising to give her love to Trent when he saw him. At Lavender's Green Elise, the rotund, jovial cook, was as thrilled as he had predicted. Clive left the club loaded down with enough food to comfortably feed five people. *So if Bryant eats like Trenton does, there should just be enough for everyone.*

Upstairs the boys, studying a site dedicated to famous swimmers (*Johnny Weismuller, yeah,* Bryant said. *Mark Spitz? Sure. But Esther Williams?*) looked up as they heard a chorus of mews drift up from the downstairs hall. Trenton smiled. "Clive's home."

Bryant frowned in puzzlement. "How do you deduce that from a bunch of caterwauls?"

"Oh, those aren't caterwauls. You'll know the difference if you're ever around when two of the males have a face-down. That signals Clive's arrival with dinner because Missus Havasnark's cats are the best chow detectors in creation. They can smell the sausage on a delivery pizza a half block away." As he spoke, Trenton was moving toward the door. He opened it just as Clive was stepping onto the landing. "Hey, babe. Wow, Elise loaded you, didn't she?"

"She was in her element, and I am instructed to bring Bryant by for an introduction sometime in the future." Clive dropped a kiss on Trenton's offered cheek. "Your mother sends her love. Now take some of this, please." An orange tabby ran past him into the apartment. "Oh, I don't think so! Smuckers! You know very well you aren't allowed in here without your mother." The cat leaped up on the couch and settled down. She squeezed golden eyes at Clive and started to purr. "Sweet talk won't work. You just wait till I put this down, young lady, and you're going right back out."

"I'll do it--you're busy." Bryant got up and went to the sofa, approaching cautiously. "Hey, kitty." When it didn't run, he reached down and gently lifted the little animal, cradling it carefully in his big hands. Walking toward the door he said, "Clive says go, you go, cutey." He set the cat down just outside the apartment door. Smuckers looked up at him, meowing softly. He looked at her sternly. "No nonsense. Go home." When she didn't move he leaned down and patted her on the bottom. "Scoot!" The cat scampered down the stairs, and Bryant shut the door. He turned to find Trenton and Clive watching him. He shrugged. "I like cats. They used to have them at the foster homes, and sometimes they listened better than the people did."

Clive started unpacking the food. "You handled that very well, Bryant--gentle, but firm. Now, you'll find glasses in the cabinet on the right, sodas on the top shelf of the fridge, and ice in the freezer. Trenton, how much soda have you had today?"

"None. I had apple juice with lunch."

"Good boy. You can have soda, and you can even have a second one after dinner."

"Hot dog! C'mon, Bri. I'll get the plates and silverware."

In the kitchen Bryant began filling glasses with ice while Trent rummaged in drawers and cabinets. Bryant noticed that Trenton was very much at home in Clive's kitchen, knowing exactly where everything was. *He must spend a lot of time here. I guess he really meant it when he said that Clive is his man. And Clive did give him orders about the drinks. But it's nothing like the way Priory is with me.* "Trent?"

"Yeah?" Trent had his hands full of spoons and forks.

"You sure Clive isn't your father, the way he orders you around?"

Trent laughed. "He's not my father, but he sure as hell is my daddy."

Bryant frowned. "What's the difference?"

Trenton bit his lip, smiling. "Bring the stuff into the dining room, okay?"

Bryant followed, figuring that it was too touchy a subject for Trent to explain. But as he deposited his load Trent said, "Clive, Bryant wants to know what the difference is between a father and a daddy. I thought I'd let you explain."

Clive looked up from the container of gravy he'd just opened. "Heavens. I've done a good bit of informal sex ed, but usually not around the dinner table. You boys start helping yourself while I consider how to phrase this."

They loaded their plates with the good things Elise had sent: fried chicken, pot roast, macaroni and cheese, and six different kinds of vegetables, then sat down and began eating. After a moment Clive began, "Well, I divide the father question into three separate categories. First, there's the sire. He makes a baby, that's it. Doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the lamb once it's planted, though he might. Anyone with a set of gonads can be a sire. Then there's the father. He also does the fertilization, but he sticks around and provides support, both financial and emotional. Then in our little corner of the world we have daddies. A daddy is the more mature man in a sexual relationship, one who provides direction, discipline..." he reached over and ruffled Trenton's hair fondly, "and love for his brat."

"Oh." Bryant thought about this for a moment, chewing slowly. Finally he said, "What do you call someone like that who provides the discipline and direction, but not the love?"

Clive eyed Bryant shrewdly. "Personally? I'd call him an exploitative asshole. There are Dom/sub relations where there's no exchange of affection, but... Well, it seems a little cold to me. I never have sex with anyone I don't at least like." He smiled. "Luckily I find it fairly easy to like people."

They ate some more. Bryant said, "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Go ahead. If I think it's out of line, I'll tell you."

"Do you and Trent really sleep together?"

Trenton snickered. "Yeah, we do, sometimes. We also have sex together." He glanced at Clive. "A lot." Clive mimed a kiss at him.

Bryant drew a deep breath. "And Clive, you're a... a Dom?"

"Is he ever!" said Trent enthusiastically.

"And Trenton is the sweetest little submissive in creation," Clive added. "Now, since we've answered your questions, why not tell us a little about your own lifestyle?"

Bryant suddenly lost his appetite, poking at his food, scowling. He'd never discussed his private life with anyone--Priory had made it clear that he shouldn't. Besides, Bryant wasn't exactly proud of it. But Clive and Trenton were being open with him, trusting him with information about their lives that could prove damaging in the hands of someone careless or vindictive. He figured he owed them honesty, and he had the feeling that anything he said would stay in this room.

Clive thought that he wasn't going to get an answer, then the young man said quietly, "Well, Trent knows that I live with our swim coach--Priory Lowell." He paused, and Clive nodded. Bryant sighed. "Yeah, we have sex, and he likes... no, he has to be in control--all the time. I do the housework and cooking, and I bottom, so I guess I'm a submissive."

Clive frowned, as he and Trenton exchanged glances. "Dear, you don't sound like a submissive. Is it possible that you're a switch? You know, Dom one time and sub then next?"

Bryant shook his head firmly. "Me, top with Pri? He'd cut both our throats first. Anyway, I wouldn't want to. I'd rather cut my dick off than stick it in him."

There was a vehemence in his voice that was impossible to miss. Trent knew it wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help it. He blurted, "Then why do you stay with him?"

Bryant shrugged. Clive said, "I usually don't pry into other people's relationships," he looked at Trenton sharply, "and others should follow that example." Trenton blushed, resigning himself to a spanking later. "But I think I have to echo my mouthy sub. Why don't you leave him? From what I've heard, you don't find the arrangement satisfactory."

Bryant shrugged. "He took me in when I was processed out of the system. I wouldn't have had anywhere else to go. He helped me get my scholarship." He looked down at his plate. "He's the only person I've ever been with."

Clive's eyebrows climbed. He said softly, "Tell me, Bryant. Where you two intimate before you moved in?" Bryant shook his head. "If I ask you anything too intimate, just tell me to go fuck myself--it won't be the first time. All right?" Bryant nodded. "How old were you when you first had sex with Priory?"

"Seventeen."

"I won't report him, then. And who's idea was the sex?"

Bryant blushed. "I... I'm not sure. A couple of times when we were watching videos I got excited, and he put his hand in my lap. I was too horny to push him away. Eventually I did it for him, too. Then..." he looked away. "Then he said it was time I started taking care of business."

Trenton watched as the color began to rise in Clive's cheeks, and thought that it was a good thing for Priory that he wasn't there. His voice was very soft, and Trenton knew that when he spoke in that gentle voice he was at his most dangerous. "Bryant, precious, do you mean to tell me that sex is required as part of your duties?" Bryant nodded, his expression sour. "It's a chore and not a joy?" Another nod. Clive began drumming his fingers rapidly on the tabletop. Now his voice was hard. "Does this Priory style himself as a Dom?"

"Yeah."

"Bryant, did Priory inform you that you were a submissive, or did you decide that yourself?"

Bryant thought about it. "I... I don't know. Y'see the words have never been used. He's never baldly said, 'I'm a Dom, you're a sub'. I just never got in the top position. I suggested that HE suck MY cock once--once." He rubbed his jaw. "I left it alone after than."

He looked up quickly as Clive stood up abruptly, scraping his chair back. "Excuse me." He went into the bedroom, walking stiffly.

Bryant looked at Trent, who was looking after his Dom with concerned eyes. "I'm sorry, Trent. I didn't mean to upset him."

"He's not upset with you, Bri, believe me. He just wanted a little time to himself so he wouldn't break anything. I think Pri better hope he never runs into Clive in a dark alley." Trenton shrugged. "What am I saying? Clive would kick his butt in the middle of main street at high noon, if he thought he deserved it. Priory really hits you?"

"When I piss him off." He paused. "Clive doesn't hit you?"

Trenton looked both astonished and horrified. "No! Oh, he spanks me sometimes, and I'm on intimate terms with all sorts of paddles, switches, and straps, but that's different. It's part of our play, and I have no objection to it. Beating is something entirely different." His green eyes narrowed. "Sounds like Lowell doesn't know the difference, though."

Clive came back, looking calmer. He went into the kitchen and returned with some whiskey over ice. "Pardon me, but I feel the need for something a bit stronger." He took a swallow, then sighed. "I have news for you, Bryant. Your Priory is not a Dom, no matter how he likes to flatter himself. He's just an abusive bastard."

"I'd kind of been getting that idea, watching you and Trent."

"And I also don't believe that you're a submissive. A submissive wants to submit. Needs to submit."

Trenton nodded. "Craves domination." He smiled at Clive. "From the right person."

"Maybe you're right. I damn sure haven't felt comfortable about this. But this is all I know."

"Then it's time your education was furthered. What you need is to see a few real Dom/sub relationships in action." He reached over and took Trenton's hand, squeezing it. "While what Trenton and I have together is special, it's not unique. A Dom/sub couple can be just as loving and supportive as any plain vanilla one. There's a perfect opportunity coming up next week."

Trenton looked interested. "You mean the monthly meeting of Doms and Dommes?"

"I mean exactly that." He looked at Bryant. "It's a little group I belong to, Doms of both sexes and their submissives. We have regular gatherings to socialize and promote the D/s lifestyle. One of our main aims is showing the vanilla community that there's a difference between what we do and abuse." He bared his teeth. "People like Lowell set us back."

Bryant knew immediately that he wanted to go. He'd been so isolated in his life with Priory, he was hungry to see what it was like for others. "When is it?"

"Next Friday, eight o'clock."

Bryant thought. "Yeah. He has a ticket to a basketball game, and it starts at eight. He'll leave early and be back late, 'cause he always drinks after a game. If his team wins he drinks to celebrate, if they lose he drinks because he's pissed off." Bryant's expression tightened. "I don't like it when he comes home drunk and pissed. It gets unpleasant."

"I'm finding more reasons to dislike this man all the time," Clive drawled. "We can pick you up at your place." Bryant looked worried. "I can wait till you call and tell us the coast is clear, Bryant, but I really wish you'd just tell him. You're a grown man--you shouldn't have to answer to him about your social life."

Bryant fidgeted. "I know, but I don't want to hassle with him unless I have to."

"Understandable in the short term, dear, but you'll have to face this problem sooner or later." Clive gave him a considering look. "And you will. I think you're not really a passive resistance sort."

Bryant's voice was bitter. "I haven't done much rebelling so far."

Clive smiled. "Perhaps you're just a late bloomer."