For the Love of Luke

by David C. Dawson

  In Middle Claydon, Rupert rode the bike slowly past the King’s Arms in the heart of the village. In the pub garden, they could see crowds of drinkers enjoying the balmy summer evening. After a hundred yards, Rupert turned off the road and steered the motorbike through a wide stone gateway onto a gently arcing driveway. The road led under a canopy of mature beech trees, until they cleared to reveal a wide, Gothic-style mansion, its facade badly cracked. The ivy covering it threatened to completely obscure some of the upper windows.

  Rupert brought the motorbike to a halt and cut the engine. He held the machine steady as Luke stood up on the side pegs and dismounted. Luke fumbled with the strap securing his helmet until Rupert turned to him and expertly unfastened it. With the helmet off, Luke stared at the scale of the mansion in front of him.

  “I thought you said your parents were farmers.” He tried to count the windows that ranged along the front of the house. He figured it was over twenty. “You didn’t warn me how rich they are. I didn’t pack a tuxedo or anything.”

  Rupert laughed. “You’re not going to need one. But the helmet will come in useful when Father throws one of his tantrums.”

  Rupert climbed off the bike, placed his helmet carefully on the ground, and unhooked the panniers.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to meet Lord and Lady Pendley-Evans.”

  “RUPERT, DARLING,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. She kissed her son lightly on either cheek. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? I haven’t had time to make up the bed in the spare room.”

  She turned to Luke.

  “And you’re Rupert’s little friend, are you?”

  “Good evening, Lady Pendley-Evans,” said Luke. He was uncertain whether to bow or not, so he dropped his head forward slightly as he shook her hand.

  “How charming,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. She turned back to Rupert as she continued. “We so rarely meet any of our son’s friends. You’d almost believe he was ashamed of us.”

  The door to their right rattled open, and a red-faced man with a tangle of wispy white hair on his head emerged into the dark, wood-paneled hallway.

  “Good God, what are you doing here?” Lord Pendley-Evans asked Rupert. “You haven’t been gone a week. Do you need money again or something?”

  “Father,” said Rupert, “this is my friend Luke. We’ve come to stay for the weekend.”

  Lord Pendley-Evans snorted and looked Luke up and down. Rupert’s father had a disconcerting way of turning his head away from whatever he was looking at so he appeared to observe everything from the far corner of his eyes.

  “Another biker, I see,” he said. “Presume you’ll be terrifying the pheasants tomorrow. Bloody bad time of year to unsettle them. Just before the shoot starts.”

  Rupert ignored his father and turned to Lady Pendley-Evans. “Don’t bother about the spare room, Mother. Luke will sleep in my room with me.”

  “But darling,” said Lady Pendley-Evans, “there’s only one bed in your room.”

  Rupert said nothing. His mother avoided her son’s gaze and turned to her husband. Lord Pendley-Evans had opened the glass front of the grandfather clock and was adjusting the hands.

  “Clarence, darling,” she said. “Have you removed all your rubbish from the old cottage now? I think the boys will be much more comfortable down there. Away from the house.” She turned back to Rupert. “Have you eaten? There isn’t a great deal I’m afraid. Cook had one of her purges of the larder this afternoon. I could probably make you a sandwich if you’re hungry.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said. “We’ll go down to the old cottage and sort it out. And maybe raid the kitchen in a while. Why don’t you and Father head off to bed? There’s no need to worry about us.”

  “Darling, it’s not yet ten o’clock,” protested his mother. She turned her head slightly and raised a finely drawn eyebrow at him. “We’re not completely gaga, my dear.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Now, make sure you and—” She turned to Luke with a quizzical look.

  “Luke, ma’am,” he said obediently.

  “Yes of course it is. You make sure you and young Luke don’t get up to any mischief down in the old cottage. We don’t want complaints from the villagers, do we?”

  “SHE IS something else,” said Rupert. He threw open the door of the old cottage and felt inside for the light switch. “You’ll have to ignore my bloody parents.” He walked inside the cottage, dropped his bag on the floor, and hung his crash helmet on a coat hook next to the door. “Did you see the look she gave me? When I said you were sleeping with me? What century does she live in? So she forces us to come out here rather than be under her roof.”

  Luke followed Rupert into the dimly lit cottage. He hung his helmet alongside Rupert’s and looked around. The front door opened directly into a small living room, filled with oversized furniture, which made it feel even smaller. On the opposite wall, another door opened onto a small kitchen. There was a narrow staircase to the left of the front door. The cottage smelled musty, with a hint of wet dog and stale cabbage.

  “Hey, Rupert, this is great,” said Luke. “Your mom did the right thing. We’re away from the house, so we don’t have to be well-behaved.” He dropped his rucksack to the floor and pulled Rupert toward him. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy.” Luke used his thumb and forefinger to push up the edges of Rupert’s mouth. “Are you going to give me a smile with those beautiful lips? For me?”

  Rupert took Luke’s forefinger into his mouth, sucked on it slowly, and winked.

  “That’s better,” said Luke. He tugged the zipper of Rupert’s race suit down to below his waist, reached his hand inside the suit, and felt for Rupert’s cock. “Hey, Mr. Leatherman. You’re wearing a jock? That’s making me horny.”

  He removed his hand from Rupert’s mouth and kissed him hungrily on the lips. Rupert undid the zip of Luke’s jacket and slipped his hands inside the waistband of his jeans.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Rupert whispered into Luke’s ear. “Let’s misbehave right now. Come on upstairs. Have you ever fucked in leather? There’s nothing like it.”

  He broke away from Luke, picked up his bag from the floor, and headed for the staircase. He paused with one foot on the first step and held up the bag. “Come and fuck me. I’ve got everything we need right here.”

  Rupert ran up the stairs, followed closely by Luke. At the top, the staircase opened directly into the only bedroom in the cottage. Rupert threw himself back onto the bed, and Luke fell on top of him. Again, he reached his hand inside the front of Rupert’s leather race suit and found Rupert’s cock, warm and firm. Rupert massaged the front of Luke’s leather jeans, and Luke’s cock strained to be released. Luke rolled off Rupert, shifted to the side of the bed, and stood up. He fumbled to unbutton the fly of his jeans. Rupert rose into a kneeling position on the bed, shoved Luke’s hands out of the way, and expertly undid the buttons. He pulled down Luke’s jeans and briefs and leaned forward to lick the tip of Luke’s cock. Turning his head sideways, he opened his mouth wide and took Luke’s penis deep inside. Luke groaned and placed his hands on Rupert’s head appreciatively. Rupert manipulated with his tongue and throat for several minutes, until Luke was ready to explode in orgasm. Just as he was about to come, Rupert pulled back. He had a condom in his hands, which he expertly slid over Luke’s rigid cock and down the shaft.

  “Not yet, my American beauty,” said Rupert. “I want you to save that until you’re inside me.”

  Rupert climbed off the bed, pulled the leather race suit off his shoulders, and allowed it to fall until it hung below his waist. Luke’s orgasm slowly receded, but his cock remained stiff. The sight of Rupert stripped to the waist, his bike leathers hanging around his solid thighs, was a powerful aphrodisiac. His cock twitched with anticipation, and its tip felt hypersensitive even beneath the numbing sheath of the condom. Rupert pulled a bottle of lube from his bag, finished peeling off his clothes, and prepared himself to receive Luke. He massaged his own cock and looke
d down at Luke’s.

  “Go gentle with that,” he said. “It’s beautiful, but it’ll take a moment for me to accommodate you.” Rupert leaned his forehead against Luke’s and gazed into his eyes. At the same time, he gently caressed lube along the length of Luke’s cock.

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” breathed Rupert. He kissed Luke once on the lips, turned, and positioned himself over the edge of the bed. Luke gingerly pushed forward to enter Rupert. He encountered resistance at first and paused. After a moment, Rupert relaxed around him, and Luke tentatively entered more deeply. His penis was given a warm embrace as Rupert took him deep inside. Luke leaned forward and grasped Rupert around his shoulders.

  “You okay?” he whispered into Rupert’s ear. The Englishman groaned in assent.

  Luke began to swing his hips gently back and forth, and he worked his cock inside Rupert. An overwhelming sensation of pleasure and oneness overcame him as he penetrated deeply. Rupert gripped and released him and matched the rhythm of Luke’s thrusts. Luke came to the brink of orgasm far quicker than he expected.

  “Fuck, Rupert,” panted Luke. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  “I’m ready,” said Rupert. His breathing came in short, explosive bursts. He massaged his own cock, and Luke could tell he was ready to unite with him in orgasm.

  A spasm of ecstasy took over Luke’s body, and his pelvis thrust without control. Beneath him, Rupert shuddered as he ejaculated. Rupert’s grip on Luke’s cock tightened, which sent his body into another spasm of sheer pleasure. Their bodies fused in passion for over a minute, until the waves of violent muscle contractions reduced to ripples. Luke collapsed onto Rupert’s back, and he kissed Rupert’s neck. With his cock still inside Rupert, he knew blissful unity.

  Rupert turned his head sideways and reached his hands back to rest them on Luke’s thighs. “Don’t tell me you’ve not done that before.”

  Luke laughed and kissed him again.

  A woman’s voice called from below.

  “Rupert, darling. Are you upstairs?”

  Rupert tensed and squeezed Luke’s cock again.

  “For fuck’s sake,” whispered Rupert. “What’s she doing here?”

  The voice of Lady Pendley-Evans sounded closer. “I felt so guilty after you left, darling, I’ve brought some leftover game pie for you and your little friend. Shall I come up?”

  Chapter 23

  LUKE BALANCED the plate of game pie on Rupert’s chest and reached across for his glass of wine on the bedside cabinet. Rupert lay back on a pile of pillows. His eyes were closed, and he massaged Luke’s thigh with his hand.

  “Your mother makes an awesome game pie,” said Luke. He took a sip of wine and pulled a chunk of pheasant meat from the remains of the pie. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it.”

  “She didn’t make it,” mumbled Rupert. His eyes were still closed. “Mother can’t boil an egg. Jeanette cooks everything.”

  Luke finished chewing on the meat and swallowed. “Is she your cook?”

  “Much more than that,” said Rupert. “Jeanette’s been around ever since I was born. She and her husband, Frank. They’re lovely. Jeanette helps Mother, and Frank works on the farm with Father. Before I was sent to boarding school, I used to spend hours with Jeanette in the kitchen. Or I’d walk the farm with Frank. Anything to avoid being with Father. All he ever did was shout at me and tell me I was useless.”

  He opened his eyes, lifted the plate from his chest, and put it on the bedside cabinet. After rolling onto his side, he laid his hand on Luke’s chest and wove his fingers through the curls of black hair.

  “And now we need to talk about you,” he said. “Maybe we can make good use of the time we’ve got here. Away from London. Come on, Luke.” His fingers stopped. “Maybe after what happened this afternoon, you’ll start to remember more.”

  Luke turned to Rupert. The Englishman watched him intently. He looked so hopeful, so optimistic. Luke felt guilty about letting him down.

  “I’ll try real hard,” he said. “But I’ve spent months with Dr. Ballantyne, trying to remember. And so far I’ve turned up a big fat zero.”

  “Until today,” said Rupert. “Think back to the photograph this afternoon. It’s been sitting in Archibald’s lap for days. And yet, when I pointed out it was a picture of you with your family—”

  Luke’s chest tightened as he recalled the image of the man in the middle of the smiling group of people. His breathing quickened, and he grasped Rupert’s hand to his chest.

  “Why do you hate your father so much?”

  Luke shook his head. He couldn’t connect the picture with the idea of family. All he knew was that the face instilled a cold, terrifying sense of fear inside him.

  Rupert gently squeezed Luke’s hand. At the same time, he reached for his mobile phone on the table beside the bed and held it between them. Luke was dazzled by the glare from the screen. It shone directly in his eyes. His heartbeat quickened further, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. But he kept control. This time he forced himself to stare at the screen. After a few more seconds, Rupert dropped the phone onto the bed. He reached forward and cupped his hand affectionately around Luke’s face. Luke took hold of Rupert’s hand and kissed its palm over and over.

  “Oh, sweet man,” said Rupert tenderly. “We’re finally making progress. Slow progress. But having seen the terror that phone caused you only yesterday, you were incredibly brave just then.”

  Luke blinked, and tears formed in his eyes. “Are you saying I’ve wasted my time at Dr. Ballantyne’s?”

  Rupert shrugged. “Let’s just say you couldn’t have done that a day ago. What was it that frightened you so much about the phone before? Can you describe it?”

  Luke blinked his eyes closed, partly to call up the memory and partly to conceal his tears from Rupert. He tried to picture Rupert’s phone four nights ago, when they were at dinner and a man’s face had appeared on the screen. The shape was indistinct. He squeezed his eyes tighter, and the facial features became clearer. A sound began to resonate in his ears. It was a voice. A voice speaking to him.

  Luke shook his head and opened his eyes. “It’s a man’s voice,” he said. “I don’t know whose, but it’s the same guy each time. And he’s telling me to do something. Something I don’t want to do. But he’s making me do it.”

  Rupert sat up, a look of excitement on his face. “What does he make you do?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t hear the words. It’s just a feeling. A real bad feeling.”

  He moved closer to Rupert, who wrapped an arm around him, and kissed him.

  “You’ve made progress,” said Rupert. “You okay?”

  “I feel great,” Luke said quietly. “But if I keep making progress, maybe one day I’ll no longer be this waif and stray who needs nursing. Will you still stick around for me then?”

  Rupert gave a deep, contented sigh and held Luke tightly in his arms.

  “You’ve turned my life upside down this week,” he said. “Do you want to know something? I was all set to quit the BBC and go to work for CNN in Atlanta for an obscene amount of money. Well,” he added after a moment’s thought, “it would probably have been an obscene amount of money.”

  “You’d leave London?” asked Luke, his head resting on Rupert’s chest. “For Atlanta?”

  Rupert sighed. “Not this week. And probably not next week either.” He kissed Luke on the head. “Life’s just got interesting again.”

  LUKE STOOD at the open doorway and looked in. The room was in shadows, lit only by the hallway light behind him. At the far end, he could see two high-backed armchairs on either side of a large fireplace. There had been a fire lit in the grate earlier, but it was now mostly ash. The remaining wood was charred, with only a few orange glows and wisps of smoke. Indistinctly in the shadows, he thought someone was sitting in the armchair to the left of the fire. He could just make out a pair of legs,
stretched out.

  “Come in, Luke,” said the man in the armchair without looking around. “You’re late.”

  Luke held back. He had no idea he had an appointment with anyone. He thought he knew the voice but could not place who it was.

  “Come in,” said the man again. “We have a seat prepared for you.”

  Luke entered the room. He walked to the armchair on the right of the fireplace and stood with his hand resting on its back. He looked to his left, but the high wing of the man’s chair obscured his face.

  “No, not that one,” said the man. There was a hint of irritation in his voice. “We’ve got the special one for you. Remember? It’s just for you.”

  Hands grasped Luke’s shoulders, and his arms were forced behind his back. He struggled, but the two men on either side of him were too strong. They pushed him away from the fireplace, back to the middle of the room where a large black chair sat. He was sure it had not been there when he first entered. The men turned him around and forced him to sit in the chair. One of the men pinned him down, and the second secured him with a wide leather strap around his waist. More leather straps bound his wrists, forearms, calves, and ankles. Hands grasped his head, and a final strap was secured around his forehead.

  “That’s better,” said the voice from beside the fireplace. “You know how important this is, don’t you? For you and for your family. It’s far better if you don’t resist. You’ll only bring shame on yourself.”

  A large pair of headphones now covered Luke’s ears, and the voice sounded deep inside his head.

  “We’ll begin,” said the voice. It was deep, resonant, slow, and deliberate. “What you’ll experience will not be pleasant, but you must be cleansed. We can do that, but you must work with us. If you don’t and this fails, they’ll have no choice but to use the alternative.” The man sighed. “And the family doesn’t want that. It would be such a loss. Your mother would be distraught.”