by Drew Sera
“You seem to like Las Vegas a lot, Anthony. What brought you to California?” I asked while we ate.
It was clanging silverware that made me look up. Anthony was scrambling to pick up the utensils he dropped. He was rattled and pale now. He’s usually so calm, cool and collected.
“Anthony,” Richard said in a low tone.
Richard carefully placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder, and I could see Anthony's frame stilled. His jaw was tight like he was holding his whole world in. I felt terrible and quickly tried to make it better.
“Forgive me; it's not my business. I apologize for asking.”
“No, it's ok. Please, excuse me for a minute,” Anthony slowly set his napkin on the table and slowly walked out of the restaurant.
Richard looked very torn. I could tell that part of him wanted to go after Anthony, but I also saw reluctance. I apologized again to Richard.
“Do you want to go talk to him?” I asked Richard.
“Anthony is a stubborn young man. He likes and prefers dealing with things on his own. He never wants to let anyone see him hurting or upset,” Richard said and looked down at his plate.
I found truth in what Richard said. I saw it at the club a few weeks ago when Paul got Anthony to volunteer for a demo. Anthony left the club instead of letting anyone see anything other than a controlled and steady demeanor.
Richard didn't look well as he sat there struggling with what he should do. I wanted to tell him to go to Anthony. Fuck, I was about to go to Anthony. Neither was my place though. Especially since I caused this.
“I'll give him a few moments,” Richard said.
I think he felt the need to explain, even though I told him not to worry about it.
“Anthony's mother wasn't taking very good care of him. When I found out, I brought him to California.”
It made sense, and I nodded my understanding. I didn't want Richard to feel obligated to tell me anything else, but just the little bit that he did say, said a lot. There was no mistaking the disgust I detected in Richard’s voice when he mentioned Anthony’s mother.
“Please don't let this have an effect on your consideration of him for the job. Anthony is a great kid. He's very motivated and head-strong.”
“I think he has great character and the times I've spoken to him; it only solidified that making the decision to select him was the perfect move.”
Cathy squeezed my hand under the table. She knew I had taken a liking to Anthony, and something over the last few weeks has been telling me that he needs me. Maybe that's arrogant or egotistical of me, but more than ever, I see a young man who is a little lost. Maybe he's fighting some internal demons, but Anthony is looking for something, and he’s determined to find it.
And I'm going to help him.
Chapter Thirteen
September 1996
Membership at Irons has been going through the roof. With so many new members, I increased many of the safety and educational classes. Anthony has been spending a lot of time with Master Luke, learning rope techniques, and now he was assisting Luke with the classes and helping others with the craft.
I’m so proud of Anthony, and he keeps getting better. He has also become quite popular with the ladies, too. I know that right now he’s enjoying himself and he prefers not getting attached. I keep watching some of the bottoms he’s been playing with, hoping one of them connects with him, but so far, I haven’t seen that with any of the ladies. And it might be Anthony’s own doing. The women love playing with him and often there is an early gathering of ladies that come, hoping for a chance to scene with him. Anthony isn’t arrogant or cocky about it either. You’d never know by his demeanor that he’s becoming one of the most sought after Dom in Irons.
Tonight was going to be a busy night. It was a Saturday night that I opened up as a second guest night for the week. I took extra precautions for tonight, and all of the Masters and Mistresses would be serving as Dungeon Monitors, including Anthony. I kept my eye on my watch, waiting for him to arrive. I wanted him to be in the dungeon tonight as an extra set of eyes versus anywhere else because most of the guests flocked to the dungeon. Many of them knew what to expect, where others wanted to play in the dungeon and see if it lived up to the hype. That’s always where I get nervous; guests playing in the dungeon when it was their very first time visiting any club like this. Like me, Anthony was very serious about safety, and the dungeon is where I needed him tonight.
“Darling, do you mind if I negotiate a scene with Mistress Melissa’s sub?” Cathy asked me while I was scoping out the main floor.
I quickly glanced around the room and found Mistress Melissa’s submissive, Bryan. Bryan was a good guy, and I knew Melissa loved him dearly. She often let him play with others in the club as well. I knew that tonight, Melissa would be busy with monitoring the guests and she wouldn’t have the opportunity to play with Bryan, just as I wouldn’t have the chance to play with Cathy tonight.
“What kind of scene do you have in mind, Darling?” I asked her while watching Bryan.
“I’d like to peg him.”
My wife has become so brave in the club. I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d like to strap him down to the metal bed in the jail cell stall and fuck him,” Cathy continued.
I grew hard picturing her fucking this guy in the jail cell and knew that if the negotiations were accepted, that I’d have to make myself available to watch this.
“Alright, darling. Please remember to speak with Mistress Melissa before approaching Bryan. Then come let me know.”
Cathy kissed my cheek and grabbed my crotch before she went in search of Mistress Melissa. I stood there watching Bryan and shook my head; he had no idea what he was in store for tonight.
It was almost 9:30 and Irons was alive and in full swing, and I couldn’t find Anthony still. In the lobby, I checked the sign in sheets with the ladies who checked the guests in, thinking that possibly I just missed Anthony.
Knowing that the dungeon is where the extra eyes needed to be, I headed down there myself. My eyes were just as good as Anthony’s, and I will keep watch until he arrives. I had spoken to him this morning about tonight, and he said he was going to arrive before things got busy. It’s not like him not to show up. Anthony has become one of my most reliable members, and he’s never let me down.
I moved up and down the dungeon hallway, checking in on scenes and talking with some guests as well as members. Things seemed to be doing just fine, and I had three Dungeon Monitors down here, aside from me. With things under control, I wandered over to the jail cell stall where my wife was with Bryan.
While I watched my wife fuck Bryan in the ass with a decently sized strap on, Paul approached. He stood there in silence, watching the scene along with me.
“She doesn’t get to do that to you, does she?” Paul joked with me.
“Ha! No. Not a chance in hell.”
My eyes never moved from the jail cell as Paul began talking. He commented about how he has always admired my relationship with my wife and how amazing our open relationship is.
“You know, if she ever needs to play with a sadist, I know a good one,” Paul insinuated.
I laughed again because Paul was very well aware that I didn’t permit Cathy to play with any Doms, aside from Tim. And that was only permitted on a few occasions while I was very much involved in the scene.
Bryan groaned out his release while my wife was slapping his ass with a leather glove. From my vantage point, I could see Bryan’s cock shooting jets of cum on the metal bed that he was bound to.
“That’s my girl,” I said under my breath.
“She fucked him well,” Paul agreed. “When are you going to turn her into that little girl?”
I heard his words but remained focused on my wife as she removed her strap on and guided Bryan’s head toward her pussy by a fistful of his hair.
“Cathy gets into the little girl role for me here and there. It’s not her favorite thin
g, but she does it for me.”
“Lots of little bottoms that will play with you in that dynamic, Blake.”
I knew that and had taken part in many of those scenes. But that dynamic is very special to me, and it’s hard to only let it out of the cage for a scene only to shelve it again. At least when Cathy and I play like that, it carries over through the day, and I love it.
Paul figured out that I wasn’t entertaining this topic further with him and so he switched to another one that I also wasn’t thrilled about.
“Where’s the golden boy?”
Paul will often refer to Anthony as “golden boy,” and sometimes he’ll toss in “prince,” though he knows how I feel about derogatory names. For the most part and what I can tell, Paul has kept his distance from Anthony. Paul bringing up Anthony though was a reminder to me that it’s now going on 11:00 and I haven’t seen Anthony.
“I’m not sure where Anthony is. I talked to him this morning, and he didn’t give me any indication that he had something going on tonight.”
“Maybe you need to discipline him, some. I can help. I know you aren’t into heavy impact play, but it might straighten the prince out.”
I didn’t even respond to Paul. Once Cathy’s moan announced her orgasm, I headed upstairs to the lobby and checked with the ladies on a status of Anthony.
“Oh sorry, sir. Anthony called about an hour ago and asked that I tell you he wasn’t going to be able to make it in tonight. We’ve just been so busy up here that one of us hasn’t been able to leave to find you and deliver the message.”
I nodded and made my way to my office. I debated about calling him and even started to dial but hung the phone up. Sitting back in my chair, I thought more about it. He was an adult. If he had a reason not to be here, I’m sure it was a good one. I was about to join my guests when I noticed a message on the phone. I quickly listened to the message. It was from Anthony.
“Hi…it’s Anthony…I’m not going to be able to come in tonight…I’m sorry. Something…um…I just…I’m sorry, Blake.”
I frowned as I listened to it several times. Something was wrong. He didn’t sound ok at all. I dialed his number but didn’t he didn’t answer.
For the next hour, I returned to my office to call Anthony and try to reach him every fifteen minutes. My concern was growing because he didn’t sound like himself in the voice message.
I watched my wife and Bryan in their aftercare, and once they parted, I told Cathy about Anthony.
“Maybe you should go check on him, darling.”
I dropped Cathy off at home and headed over to Anthony’s. He still had the same house that he bought when he moved to the city. Anthony has talked about wanting something more “him” and his style, but he hasn’t found it yet, and he refuses to settle for just anything.
Chapter Fourteen
September 1996
I was about to head to the club when my phone rang and the only reason that I stopped to answer it was because I thought it might be Blake.
“Is this Anthony Graves?” a woman’s voice asked.
“It is.”
She introduced herself as a nurse from a hospital in San Jose. My heart began pounding.
“Your father suffered a heart attack. I’m so sorry, dear. He didn’t make it.”
What the fuck?
I swallowed hard and hung the phone up and kept my hand on the receiver. I took a deep breath and sat down on the couch.
My dad was gone.
Guilt was hitting me. My dad tried so hard to get to know me when I moved in with him, but I didn’t let him. And now it was too late.
He had been the first person to hug me and try to get close to me. Even though I pushed him away, for the most part, I liked the feeling but was never able to convey it.
I was truly alone.
Chapter Fifteen
September 1996
I rang the doorbell and knocked on the door, hoping Anthony was home and that he’d answer. I squinted when the porch light flipped on, and the door opened. Anthony stood there, looking worn out and bothered. He invited me in, and instantly an apology came out as I was glancing around the living room, looking for signs of anything being out of place.
“I’m sorry about tonight, Blake.”
“Anthony, it’s okay. I was just worried about you. I knew it wasn’t like you not to show up and then I heard the message you left and was very concerned.”
He looked confused. Maybe me telling him that I was worried and concerned about him was confusing for him. I noticed there was a suitcase on the coffee table. It was empty, but open. This worried me greatly.
“Going somewhere?”
Anthony just stood there, staring at me. His mouth was tightly closed, but he nodded his response to my question. Redness was covering his face, and his lips were forming a tighter line.
“Anthony, what’s wrong?”
“My…dad…died tonight.”
Anthony struggled to get that phrase out, and my heart broke for him.
“Oh, Anthony. I’m so sorry,” I said and made a move to go toward him.
He nodded and shrugged before moving around me toward the kitchen.
“Would you like something to drink? I pretty much just have Coke.”
I followed him to his kitchen. He was having a hard time with this news and was trying not to talk much about it and focus on anything else. I took a Coke from his outstretched hand, noticing that he wouldn’t look at me.
“I have to go to California for a few days. I’m sorry.”
“Anthony, you don’t have anything to apologize over.”
“Yeah, I made a commitment to you tonight, and I didn’t make good on it.”
I shook my head at him and sat down, hoping he’d sit down and relax. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel bad about not coming to Irons tonight.
“What happened?”
“A lady called from the hospital and said he had a heart attack and didn’t make it. Then a guy called from some attorney’s office and said he needed to meet with me regarding my dad’s estate, or something.”
He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal or as if he wasn’t affected by this. But I could see the shock on his face.
“I’m sorry, Anthony.”
“Thanks.”
“What time is your flight?”
He shook his head and said he hadn’t called the airlines yet. I was quickly getting the impression that Anthony has barely been keeping it together tonight. He was able to get his suitcase out, but that was it.
“Um, I don’t know what to do, Blake.” He paused and took a sip of his Coke and let his hands rest against his stomach and chest. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to plan a burial.”
Anthony’s voice cracked, and I stood and pulled him into a hug.
“He was all that I had left.”
“That’s not true, Anthony. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll help you.”
I found a phone number to an airline and called to make flight arrangements while Anthony stared into his closet. I felt bad for him. He was what I’d call “controlled chaos” right now. After I had made the flight arrangements, I went to help him pack.
“Our flight leaves in the morning. Do you have a suit?”
Anthony nodded but made no movement toward wherever it might be in the closet.
“Wait, did you say our flight?” Anthony asked, sounding confused.
“I told you that I would help you.”
“You don’t have to go with me.”
“Aside from being your mentor, first and foremost, I’m your friend. And I’m going to help you with this.”
I helped Anthony get packed and then I took him home with me. We needed to be at the airport early, and I still needed to pack and talk to Cathy. Anthony slept in one of the guest rooms, and I retired for the night. While I packed, I spoke to Cathy. She was very supportive of me going along with Anthony.
We landed in San Fra
ncisco and drove to his father’s house at a snail’s pace. Over the extensive time I’ve spent with Anthony this morning, I’ve determined that this young man, had no idea or clue as to how to express himself or how to grieve. I remembered back to the only time I met Richard Graves. He mentioned that Anthony came to live with him when he discovered that his mother wasn’t taking very good care of him. I don’t think Anthony had a very loving upbringing.
We checked into the hotel and left within the hour to meet with the attorney that had called Anthony. I was glad that I was going because I found it odd that an estate attorney wanted to meet with Anthony on a Sunday, as soon as we arrived. Even more interesting to me was the fact that the attorney suggested meeting us in a park. He gave us excellent directions as to where he’d be, and we found him with no problem sitting on a bench, facing the bay.
“Anthony?” asked the man as he stood.
“Yes, that’s me.”
He made a small smile and introduced himself to me as George and shook my hand.
“Blake Eriksson.”
“Sit down gentlemen, please,” George said as he picked up a folder and held it on his lap. “Your father used to come here a lot. I used to bring my granddaughter here, and I’d sit on the end of this bench while your father occupied the side where you’re sitting now. We became good friends, and he trusted me to handle his estate planning. When you re-entered his life, so much changed for him. He reallocated all of his assets, of course, but aside from that, he changed drastically. He worried about you so much, Anthony.” George paused while a fog horn blared in the distance. “All of the funeral arrangements have been made and paid for, Anthony. He didn’t want to burden you with that. All of those details are in this folder on the left-hand side. The right-hand side contains all of his assets and a cover sheet of what he wanted to be done with those funds. I trust that you will take care of that.”
