by JJ Giles
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“Don’t sit down.” He was anxious that the leather might be crushed before its time.
She merely leaned over the dresser, so comfortable to be so swaddled in leather from her wrists to her toes this day. And then she picked up the hand mirror and turned to see the crisscross of laces down her back, the ever-narrowing triangles ending in the most decorative bow. “Oh, Alex.”
“That’s all I have for you, darling. But Jerry has something for you, too.”
“How can I ever thank you?”
“You already have, precious.” He bent to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. And then he went to the balcony and peered down. He studied Jerry’s stance listening to the conversation between Jerry and Jeannine. But Jerry seemed to feel his presence, excused himself from their only sister and disappeared.
A moment later, he opened the door of the master suite. His stare affixed on their bride. Slowly, a smile broadened his lips and he turned to Alex and breathed, “Stunning.”
“Thank you,” Alex said graciously. “But I had a lot to work with.”
“Indeed.” His vision returned to Morgan merely to stare, the mere sight of her a pure delight.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Alex whispered and made for the door. Yet Jerry caught him and left a tender kiss on his cheek. Alex squeezed his hand and then departed.
The energy that passed between Alex and Jerry was comfortable. Yet Morgan said, “I’m so nervous I’m about to puke.”
Breaking into laughter, Jerry said, “So is Brian. I’ll be with you both. I have something for you.” He reached into the pocket of his off-white tuxedo trimmed in royal blue. He came to her with a jewelry box wrapped in gold foil.
“I hope you didn’t spend a lot of money.”
“It’s only money, honey. The truth is, I bought it the day after I met you. The day after I fell in love with you, and didn’t have the courage to give it to you. Afraid of rejection. But you belong to me now.”
“Yes. I need you.” Yet she tore away from his passionate stare and peeled back the paper from a very weighty box. Carefully, she opened the lid only to see a profusion of diamonds strung on woven gold threads shining brightly, those very diamonds interspersed with emeralds and sapphires, with a tear drop pendant of very rare, very opulent blue ice.
Her mouth agape, she peered up again.
But he only smiled and moved quickly toward her to take the box and remove the choker. Carefully, he laid it around her throat and clasped it in back, leaving the gold threads to dangle, to remind her of his presence. But her tears began when he turned her to the mirror to see the lightening gathering to it and thrown around the room.
“Matches your engagement ring. That ring on your finger made me want to get radical with somebody. Who knew it was my son.” He grinned. “He’s returned to me, and I thank you for that. But now you know I’m with you even if you can’t see me. You can feel me clutching your throat.”
“Yes.” She tore her sight away from his bondage and returned to him. “I love you truly.”
He bent a little to nibble at her ear. “I have something else for you.”
In front, he knelt before her and loosely gathered her skirt that she might hold it up and offer herself to him. She felt a little tingle where his finger stroked but it was only to divide the flesh between her legs. She felt the clamps close, the little knob meant to stroke her clit and remove her mind from her anxiousness. With such reverence, he nuzzled the fur there, kissed it tenderly and then rose.
“Better?”
“Infinitely,” she whispered.
“I’m with you...always. You belong to me now. You both do.” But he only wrapped her up in his arms. “You two are like puppies romping in the back yard. I don’t know how you’d get along if you didn’t have me to put some seriousness in your lives.”
“Mind if I ask you something?”
He smirked because he knew it was a question about Alex. “No, I don’t.”
She hesitated a moment, knew this was none of her business. Yet she wanted this question answered more than the other that had plagued her. “Your brother...?”
“My brother,” he whispered with reverence. “My brother and I have been very much in love since the day we looked at each other and maybe before.”
She closed her eyes a moment to absorb the most pleasing of all ecstasies in that statement. “I think I understood that a while back. How much you loved him.”
“I certainly didn’t expect him to forgive me for stealing his son from him.”
Deeply, she looked into his dark eyes, the usual menacing aura replaced by contentment. “He is your son, Jerry. You raised him.”
Easily, he nodded, his entire body shivering with the sentiment. “After thirty five years, I’ve found out that Alex never blamed me in the first place.”
“Because it was your father who came between you.”
Sadly, he nodded.
“I’ve witnessed the evidence of it in your personality, and the scars on your body.”
Bitterly, he smiled. “Nobody before you bothered to look that closely. Of course, Cheryl knew what had happened. That I nearly died. And I made it all too easy for her to take his place when he died.”
“There’s no shame in fear. It keeps you alert.”
Patiently, he nodded. “You know...when I first got involved with you, I was totally smitten before we even met. To know you had suffered the same kind of unbringing I had. To know how you solved your problem not only chilled me, but it, uhhh...to think that someone could turn a situation like that around and save themselves gave me hope. You made me understand that I don’t have to be a victim, Morgan. I didn’t have the balls to kill him,” he admitted. “Or her, for that matter. But I don’t have to take it anymore, either.”
Her smile was broad and genuine to think he had come this far.
“As far as Alex goes, all I know is that I feel forgiven. All I want is for you and Brian to have a nice life, because Alex and I certainly will. But that doesn’t mean that your sweet little ass doesn’t belong to me, little girl. I need a woman. A real woman and that woman is you.”
Filled with gratitude, she smiled. Sometimes she just needed a man.
* * * *
Nervously, Brian sipped the champagne as his Aunt Jeannine questioned him shamelessly about his bride. It was Alex who rescued him, pulled him aside and hissed at his sister. But the bitch only sneered at him as Alex shoved Brian away, her brother more attractive than she.
“Fucking bitch. I don’t know why you insisted on inviting her,” Alex snarled.
“She’s family,” Brian insisted.
“Honey, sometimes things can’t be saved. Sometimes they aren’t worth the effort.”
What did Brian care anyway? “You look fabulous,” he whispered.
“You’re sweet,” Alex mewed. “Just an old queen well past her prime. But you have to disappear now. The orchestra is about to start.”
“Thank you for this,” Brian whispered with a kiss.
Alex huffed, his cheeks plumped with his smile. “Go...”
Alex lit a cigarette as he watched Brian disappear into the grotto. And then he turned, the click of his heels on the quarry stone underneath quite loud and headed directly to his sister, who stared like a wildcat about to strike.
“Jeannine, darling, how wonderful you could make it,” he sneered so filled with affectation.
“Alex. When are you going to grow up?”
Alex’s upper lip quivered in response to expose an incisor looking very much like a fang.
* * * *
Brian paced the soft earth of the grotto, the flowers blooming there in the last of summer’s colors. He remembered Alex’s admonition of having a formal affair in the garden in the afternoon, yet Brian insisted. “When do we ever do anything the way we’re supposed to do it?” Brian had reminded.
“Of course, darling,” Alex had mewed.
How ridiculous it
all seemed now, all done up like peacocks. Yet his mind returned to his Master and his Master’s gift enclosing his testicles. How gentle and generous his Master had been when his Master opened his pants and retrieved his genitalia. When he wrapped the chainmail around the testicles and drew it up tightly to snap a gorgeous cock ring encased in diamonds, emeralds and sapphires quite loosely around an eager organ.
“I’m with you,” his Master had reminded as the trousers were closed again.
“I love you,” Brian purred to feel his Master’s presence, his Master’s love, his Master’s support in the most unlikely places in his life.
Now, his hand settled between his legs to remind himself.
* * * *
“Your retinue awaits,” Jerry offered. He led Morgan to the staircase to descend and gather in the kitchen. Morgan stopped at the threshold to see her maids and their dresses of the richest shade of royal blue chiffon so incredibly elegant and much like hers. The tight bodices without the laces forced their breasts high and forward, the sleeves of their gowns huge and soft, dusting the floor. The scent of their flowers rose as they turned to see her, her precious Kitty closest to the door.
“Hey, Sis,” one of them roared.
“Cherry,” she whispered affectionately.
“You are a knockout, honey,” Cherry insisted.
Full of exuberance, Morgan grabbed her up to kiss her. But Jerry pulled Cherry away to introduce Morgan to some of Brian’s cousins, all lovely women, Morgan decided. And then of course, the sweet little flower girl, five years old, a smile filled with precious little baby teeth. “You’re so pretty,” the little girl said, clinging to her basket filled with black rose petals.
“You are, too, baby.”
“Alright,” Jerry ordered. “All of you, out of here.” He glared a little at Cherry to remind her to be good.
* * * *
Morgan stood on the veranda, shimmering in the sunlight gathering its warmth, with one arm looped tightly around Jerry’s, the other holding a bouquet, its scent a sweet cloud to calm her. But she could only see Brian as Brian stared shamelessly in her direction, the guests' vision trained on the bridesmaids gliding over the velvet-covered walkway.
Easily, Jerry moved her closer to the aisle, the guests perched at tables around the garden and cooing to see the magnificent gowns blown on a soft breeze.
But when the music changed, Morgan’s breath stopped again to know she was next. Jerry turned his head and said, “Come.” It was a command she had grown quite comfortable with. A Master she could truly trust.
But only Brian existed and the gasps and mewing, the furtive whispers and indelicate pointing at her gown were a mere background to the waltzing of strings risen over it all, to deliver her to her beloved on a wave.
Closer they drew to the altar, the most reverent of steps taking them there. She was so outside of herself, transported how, she knew not and didn’t care. Only Brian, and when Romeo appeared in his robes and smiled so sweetly, so full of the spirit, she relaxed instantly. To think he would do this for her, be with her now, the only father she ever really had, gave her pause.
At the prie deus especially made to match the arch, thickly cushioned and covered in leather, Jerry took her hand and gave it to Brian. Tenderly, he kissed them both and then stood aside as Brian’s best and only man.
Romeo leaned forward and kissed her flaming cheek. He waited for the music to fade and began with, “Dearly Beloved,” his voice so clear, so commanding as if the very angels had descended and spoke through him.
* * * *
An hour and a half later, Romeo announced, “I now present Mr. and Mrs. Jerome Bryant Alexander Abernathy VI. You may kiss your bride.”
Carefully, Brian took her beaming face in his hands and held to her lips with his. He lingered feeling her shivering delight, his own gratitude and excitement spilling over. She was his wife now, all he ever wanted, and his arm wound around her and clutched her tight. Yet he whispered, “Not to be confused with Ms. and Mr. Morgan McFaye.”
So delighted with that, she grasped him a little tighter and drove her tongue into his mouth. The music swelled and they turned to face the guests now, Alex weeping shamelessly at the table closest to them.
The bride and groom started back down the aisle for the reception line. Jerry stopped at that first table. Gallantly, he held out his hand for Alex, and Alex took it quickly and shamelessly and rose to be escorted away. Yet Jerry’s vision caught on the snarling leer of his sister for a moment. But now was not the time, not with the cameras rolling...
* * * *
After the reception line, after the pictures Brian waltzed his bride to the dinner table. Openly, she stared to see the china settings, a delicate blue ribbon twining around the rim of the bread plate. Two beautiful doves sat upon a single twig, kissing, and their names, Brian and Morgan, were etched in gold above the date. The most romantic thing she’d ever seen.
Sitting in the white velvet chair crafted for this very occasion, she murmured, “They’re beautiful.”
“I had four hundred place settings made,” Brian whispered. “For the best little whorehouse in Ohio.”
She nuzzled against him, her smile so broad and, she so hopelessly in love.
And Jerry sat beside her, Alex to Jerry’s left, his arm around her to pat Brian. “That was gorgeous,” he whispered, filled with paternal pride.
* * * *
The first dance, of course, was theirs. The train now gone, Brian took her to the platform he’d built out over the slope of the lawn, a brass railing around three sides of it. She melted in his embrace, her hand holding her skirt higher, another to his shoulder.
“God, I love you,” she cried, dizzy with his affection. He could only smile and draw her closer.
The MC then announced, “Mother and Father of the Groom.”
Quickly, Jerry stood and held out his hand for Alex. Together they approached the dance floor and Jerry turned to take Alex into his arms. But Jerry froze and tightened in defense to see Cheryl standing there, rage shaking her body like the first vicious storm of spring. Her makeup ran down her cheeks in jagged streaks of black.
“I don’t think so,” she hissed.
Alex turned in Jerry’s arms, Alex’s rage bubbling inside of him like a cauldron. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
The crowd quieted and the music faded, all attentions turned on Cheryl and Jerry. Even Morgan and Brian stopped to stare, Morgan as enraged as Alex at this intrusion.
“I’m his mother,” Cheryl scowled.
Alex turned his head to quietly shout, “Get her out of here,” to Jerry.
Jerry reached out and grabbed her arm only to twist it. But she squirmed away from him. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” she shouted. “I’m his mother.”
Bullshit, Brian thought. He pointed to two of his friends and they leapt to the stage. Without hesitation, he grabbed his mother, his grip firm and dragged her away. She screamed like a wounded animal. Quickly, Jerry followed.
Morgan, unsure of what to do, stared at Alex only a moment before they were both swept up by finely dressed men. The music rose again and she found herself following his lead.
“She’s a witch,” the guy offered. It was a voice she recognized from the bachelor party.
To the man dressed in a tuxedo, she said softly, “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”
“Oh, baby, it was definitely my pleasure.” The thin line of a mustache tickled her cheek. His hand forced into the small of her back to pull her close.
“And you would be...”
“Your greatest admirer, darling.”
Morgan smiled a little with that, yet her husband was on her mind. “I apologize, but I can’t let this go down.”
“Let’s go,” he whispered.
Her hand in Renee’s clutch, she was escorted past Alex who followed quickly. On the way to the house, Cherry joined the rank.
* * * *
But Cheryl wouldn
’t go peaceably. Only when Brian picked her up and threw her over his shoulder did she quiet, her own weight crushing her lungs. He thrust open the exterior door of the dungeon, the only room in the house that was soundproofed.
Brian dropped her on the sofa and shouted, “Cheryl, this is my wedding day.”
“She’s a whore,” Cheryl shouted.
“Oh, God. She has never said one recriminating thing about you, damn it. And she’s not a whore. She’s a sex therapist.”
Cheryl sneered. “Is that what they’re calling them these days? And you,” as she turned to Jerry. “You just had to tell the world I’m his mother, didn’t you?”
The rest of the family stood beyond the door, listening.
How sad, Jerry thought. How hurtfully and painfully sad and he felt bad for Brian just then. “There’s a lot of people in this world that would be proud to be his mother, Cheryl. Alex, for one. Obviously you forgot to mention in your little exposé that the prostitute who gave birth to him was you.”
“You magnanimous bastard,” she screamed. “And by the way, your little fag brother is not his mother.”
“He’s been more of a mother to Brian and Cherry than you ever attempted to be. Than you ever cared to be.”
“Well, why don’t we just get this all out in the open, shall we?” Angrily, she turned to Brian. “Do you know your father here and his brother have been screwing each other for years?”
Jerry recoiled as Brian glanced at him, but Brian’s fixed stare stayed with his mother. “You know...it’s none of my business who my father takes comfort in. If that’s his brother, what the fuck do I care? This is not about Dad or Alex. This is my wedding day. Why do you wanna screw this up for me?”
“You can’t be serious! Your grandfather paid me to carry you and give birth to you. And that’s all you’ve got to say about them!”
Startled by that, Brian fell back a bit and glared at her. For a protracted moment he stood speechless to let that soak into his psyche. “Cheryl, if you didn’t want us, why the hell did you even hang around? I think I know my father well enough that he would have been so grateful for what you did do that he would have left you on the payroll to live your oh-so-happy and fulfilled life without the burden of children. Without even the pretense you cared for us. So you’ve done what you were paid to do, haven’t you, Cheryl? I think one and a half billion dollars for spending a year and a half of your life knocked-up is more than gratitude. I think its extortion. So why don’t you trot on down the road into the sunset, catch the next plane back to France? Hell, why don’t you get a life and get married to your boyfriend?”