Gaychinations

GAYCHINATIONS

by

Joseph. L. Philippe

Copyright ©2017 Joseph L. Philippe

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-9950589-5-8

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and other factors are the fruit of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. All the characters in the book remain fictitious and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Having been away for ten years Dennis decides that it is time to return home. Meanwhile, Tony is musing about having Master Troy submit to him.

The Barbershop Quartet, having entered a first competition, rather enjoyed the experience. Geoff, the real estate agent is smitten. Chuck and Monty are planning to get married after ten years living together. Kay, of K Décor, has signed up to do a 12 episode series for the Home & Garden specialty TV Chanel. Troy for his part decides to hire Phil to do some renovations. What could go wrong?

Things may seem normal at first glance but, it is the Gay Village where everyone knows everyone else and, when things get out of hand, the consequences are felt by many.

GAYCHINATIONS is the continuing chronicle of a fictitious Gay Village and the adventures or misadventures of its inhabitants.

List of chapters and subsections

Chapter one:

- A phone call

- Kay and Mimi

- Tony

- Luring Troy

- Labour day

- Roommates

- Clearmont College

- Brother and sister

Chapter two:

- Party at Blake’s

- Visiting Barringford Estates

- A little reno

- Work, at last

- At the squash court

- Planning ahead

- A retreat

- Keeping tabs on Troy

Chapter three:

- Dining out

- Friends chatting

- What one finds in old basements

- Tony’s revenge

- On the road

- The TV decorating show

- Settling in

- Persisting

- Village news

Chapter four:

- At the coffee shop

- Enough stalling

- Crossing path

- Troy’s reno

- Finding a place

- LLS needs s new catalogue

- Keeping an eye on Daniel

- Confrontation

- Something to think about

Chapter five:

- Changes coming to Main Street

- Moving in

- Marco

- Fishing

- Work in progress

- Dennis needs a decorator

- Step by step

- The making of a masterpiece

- Fencing with Dennis

- Dropping by

Chapter six:

- Santa comes to Fillmore Street

- Making plans

- Woolgathering

- The inconvenience of suburban living

- Finding the right one

- New Year’s Eve

- Elsewhere

- Midnight

- Messing with Stella

Chapter seven:

- Reporting

- The guest list

- A card game

- Geoff moves to the city

- A change of tune

- Getting the client on board

- Start of the Glenmore conversion

- Blake

- Keeping an eye on Daniel

Chapter eight

- How to win

- Design modifications

- The price of quality

- The new Boy

- Playfair Place overhaul

- Builder’s remorse

- The new Playfair Place

- A detour through the park

- Worried and anxious

Chapter nine

- James recovering

- On the good ship Lollypop!

- Lights, camera, action!

- Wedding plans

- Moving in

- Municipal politics

- A tryst

- So annoying

Chapter ten

- Geoff’s world

- James’ prospects

- Keeping informed

- Monty! Monty! Monty!

- Confrontation

- Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

- Las Vegas

- Troy, Julian and Tony

- Breakfast talk

- James’ dilemma

- Taking matters in hand

- Hi! Ha!

- Updating HQ

Chapter eleven

- Wedding blues

- The ugly banker

- Setting it up

- Getting paid

- Needing a friend

- Friday night

- A smoldering mess

- Producer’s dilemma

- Sorting things out

Chapter twelve

- Summer

- Juli and Oli

- Visiting the aunt

- Heard over the weekend

- Remorse

Epilogue

- Those letters

ONE

A phone call

It was one of those sweaty late August nights. He had only been sitting down for a few minutes. Had donned a light yukata kimono, intending to relax with a manga from his collection. Hardly had time to open GUNJI, one of his favorites. He was looking for the sexually explicit SM images. Blake had a thing for rough sex and no one could evoke it better than Gengorah Tagame.

The day had been challenging… and it was only Monday. Hi boss, the deputy mayor, had been on his case to get that report on water infrastructure deficiencies completed by the end of the week, or else! Or else what? One sometimes wonders how people get elected. The ugly little man was a tyrant with staff. Yet, when dealing with constituents, possible voters, he was all charm. Snake oil!

He had been working on the report, amongst other projects, for the past few weeks and it was nowhere near completion. He had stayed after hours till almost ten and was exhausted. Light reading before bed was what he wanted and needed.

And now, the phone was ringing - caller, unidentified. He thought about ignoring it. Who the hell would be calling him this late; it was almost eleven thirty.

Yes!

Sorry Blake, am I catching you at a bad time?

Dennis! Do you know what time it is here?

Some people can never figure out the time difference between east and west.

Um… Right. It’s late. Sorry. I’ve had a rough weekend.

Blake didn’t like the sound of that.

What’s going on? Are you in trouble?

Well, noooo. There was a pause. I got bad news on Friday. Work has been… the economy in the oil fields has grinded to a halt, as you know. There was another pause. Finally, I was… laid off on Friday. Let go - to use their term.

This was going to be a difficult call. So much for a relaxing little fantasy escape before bed. He closed the manga and reached for his drink.

Wow! Sorry to hear that, Den. What are you going to do? Do you have other prospects?

I’m afraid that locally, the prospects are rather dismal. Layoffs have been going on for months now and no one is hiring.

So, what are your options? Relocation?

That’s about it. It could be years before this place bounces back.

Where will you be going, then? Further west?

I’ve thought about it. Somehow, the west has lost its appeal.

So, if not west?

I am thinking of moving back.

There was a brief silence on the line as Blake was connecting the dots. Moving back? This call had a purpose.

Moving back? Any leads on jobs here?

Well no, not really. It’s a bit recent and I haven’t had a chance to make any inquiries yet, but opportunities can only be better back east. Don’t you think? And with my experience, I should have no problem finding another job. So…

Here it comes, thought Blake.

I know that it is asking for a lot, but I was wondering if you could put me up for a short while? Time to look for a place, get a job, and all that.

Blake and Dennis were old friends. They had basically done their coming out together. Blake first, then Dennis. They had explored the gay scene together - bars, drugs, relationships, leather…

Then, Dennis fell in love. He had thought that Monty, the handsome young TV reporter from the local station, was going to be the love of his life, but Monty broke his heart. Crushed by the betrayal, he fled, as far away as possible. Ten years had since passed. Wounds had healed and the memories had been made agreeable again. One tries to look at the past from the best possible angle. Monty had not betrayed him - Monty had been seduced away.

And, after moving west, whenever Dennis came back for a visit, he always stayed with Blake. Those short visits were generally an occasion for indulgence. Blake and Dennis would ‘paint the town red’.

Of course. When do you think you might be coming?

A visitor was one thing - a roommate, something different. Yes, Blake had a spare room and Dennis was an easy guest but… He hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be too long of a stay. He liked his privacy. The idea of Dennis moving in was not exactly filling him with glee. Well, it would be a short stay. He hoped. What are friends for?

In about a week. Time to pack and wrap things up, here. Would that be OK with you?

No problem. Your room will be waiting.

Might as well put that guest room to some use.

This is great. I don’t know how to thank you. I feel so lost right now. I won’t be any trouble, Blake. I swear. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

They went on chatting for a few more minutes before Blake, reminding Dennis of the time difference, was able to get off the phone. He had to be at work early in the morning.

Time for bed.

Kay and Mimi

When, a few years prior, Kay had left the department store where he had been head decorator in order to go on his own and open K Décor, the need for an assistant had been obvious and immediate. A small ad, placed in the local paper’s Home Section, had certainly generated interest but most applicants had been home styled decorators with big ideas and little talent. Women of a certain age with a taste for pretty accessories, particularly good at spending other people’s money. That had been just about it. Their uninteresting portfolio of past achievements would only have appealed to the likes of each other - other women of a certain age. The Laura Ashley Lavender League.

A few young male designers had also applied but Kay had immediately felt their competitive edge and ego getting in the way. Flashy, mouthy prima donnas.

Only one candidate had managed to impress him the right way; Mimi, a young unproven designer with merely a portfolio of school assignments to show. He had booked her interview in desperation. The need to find an assistant had become urgent.

The nice thing about an employee without experience is that you can train them your way if they are the least bit receptive. You can mold them to your image. All that is needed is a bit of talent and an eager young mind. That was Mimi. She had graduated from the design academy with high marks and great recommendations. Her portfolio showed an open mind and a sense of adventure.

Michelle Michaels was what was commonly referred to as a BB - a Barringford Brat - from the name of the neighbourhood she came from. A posh community, Barringford Estate knew how to look after its own. The kids all went to the best private schools and then on to university where they generally outshone their fellow students and finished by landing the best jobs upon graduation. That Mimi had not followed that route had been a bit of a disappointment to her parents but, being liberally minded, they had not put up too much of a fuss. After all, they already had a son studying medicine and a daughter into law. Mimi would eventually come around and might decide to venture on to, who knew… architecture maybe? Their baby still had plenty of time and could be indulged for the time being. She had always been interested in the arts and fashion. Interior design might be a bit mundane but, it was what she had chosen… for the time being.

Still living at home, she had presented herself to K Décor studio, her most fashionable self. First impressions being terribly important.

She adored the retro look and, being tall and thin, could wear it well. For the job interview, she had chosen a two piece business suit that echoed the late forties - knee length tight skirt, tiny waist and a large

shouldered and lapelled jacket. But, if it was retro, it was certainly not vintage. The mere idea of wearing someone else’s old clothes was, to her, simply appalling. Ugh! Her mother’s seamstress was now practically working fulltime for Mimi.

She was chic. Compared to other candidates, she definitely stood apart. Could it have been her millennial’s self-assurance and entitlement? One thing was sure - she was definitely going places.

No, she had not worked for a design firm before, she immediately told Kay.

After the design academy, I took off to Europe for a year. Now, I’m back and ready to roar. She smiled innocently.

Kay almost laughed. How could you not love that child? He looked through her portfolio. Nothing outstanding but, nevertheless good work. They were, after all, school assignments.

I’m looking for an assistant. It would involve just about everything from making coffee to running errands with some management thrown in. But, if you can handle that, I will make sure that you get your fair share of design work. And I can make coffee for myself, in case you are wondering. He pointed to an empty mug at his desk. Hard work, but an opportunity to get your foot in the door in what I hope will be a successful design firm. She was not saying anything. Likely evaluating what he had just said. I’m not looking for a ‘girl Friday’, if that’s what you’re wondering. I need a good designer to assist me but also manage the office, which I expect will grow to a respectable size, hopefully in a short time period.

She looked at him seriously. On the one hand, she certainly could get a job with an established design firm. On the other hand, it might be years before she was trusted with a first important design project. Boring work forever would be her daily lot. Pay your dues is what they call it. However, with a new design studio like K Décor, there might be the potential for more immediate design work. Especially if she was to bring new clients to the firm. With her connections…

Can you show me some of your work? she asked.

This time Kay could not help but burst out laughing.

This has to be a first. I am being interviewed by the interviewee. I love it. Of course. Come with me.

Waking up the computer, he showed her a series of finished interiors he had done over the years as head of the home decorating department where he had been employed until recently.

Jokingly, he asked, Do I get the job?

Very impressive, was all she said.

Something to consider. He certainly was creative. This experience might be very good, regardless of the fact that it was a still unknown design studio. She might even learn from him.

There was a pause. Kay’s hand went to his goatee.

She was the one, he thought. She had personality, poise and panache.

So, I won’t beat around the bush, Mimi. If you want the job, it’s yours.

He felt a chemistry with her. She had a self-assurance that made you feel like she could tackle anything you threw at her. She would go far and it might as well be by his side.

Salary?

They went on discussing the details. Twenty minutes later, she was leaving.

I’ll get back to you tomorrow to let you know if I want the job, Kay. Nice meeting you.

As she was leaving she turned around with a last question.

That accent? German?

"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

Not a word.

Good.

She started work the following Monday.

Tony

At the bank, Tony regularly dealt with young men caught up in quixotic endeavours and unaffordable dreams as only gay men are, ready to comply with the manager’s conditions to secure the loan needed for their folly. His secretary, Miss Finch, knew he particularly liked to ‘help’ young men and it was always with a smile that she processed the necessary paperwork. They all looked so innocent and charming when they came in and asked if it would be possible to make an appointment to see Mr. Rossi. Little did she know what unwritten conditions would be attached to their loan application.

Not that the manager ever suggested anything unethical. God forbid! He would merely point out that, as it stood, their financial situation being what it was… they did not offer enough security for his bank, or any bank for that matter, to accept the risk they represented. He would help in any measure he could but they needed to understand… find a way… It was generally not necessary to say anymore. Body language did the rest. The office, however, was never the place where the deal was sealed. The paperwork was always found to be incomplete - an excuse - and the applicant would be invited to Tony’s place to sign the necessary documents later on… in the evening. A visit that would include a detour to the playroom; a detour that varied in length and difficulty depending on the disposition of the visitor. Some were more willing than others to please the smooth bank manager whose little den of iniquity could prove rather challenging. However, judging by the number of loans to young gay men handled by the bank, one could suspect that the word was out on the street as to what was involved in securing a bank loan from Mr. Rossi. Those naughty boys! They were never invited a second time, though. After a first visit, their behaviour would invariably change. Their initial nervous apprehension giving way to casual acceptance. The mystery was gone, and so was Tony’s pleasure.

Availability however did not provide Tony with as much satisfaction as a hard fought battle and victory over adversity. A visit from a young client was merely an indulgence. A perk of the job, one could say. Besides, the game was all in the chase and easy prey hardly offered the pleasure that the challenge of trapping a feisty innocent victim provided. The hunt and kill - figuratively speaking, of course. The big game… the trophy.

The best use of his talents was reserved for the ones he chose for their challenge. The ones who resisted before being forced into submission. Definitely not the ones his bank offered.

The previous year’s playroom renovation - that awesome little project - had almost provided that pleasure. Phil, the handyman turned contractor for the occasion, was not supposed to have finished on time! But, completion had been almost on schedule. Hardly more than an hour passed the deadline.

The contract had been written in such a way that Phil would have had to repay Tony in personal services for every hour, day or week by which the deadline had been missed. Was that not an appropriate penalty? No doubt Phil had guessed what was entailed when the contract was signed, which had certainly added an element of suspense during the renovation. Had he not even been tempted to be late? Someone else might have. He would have been perfect for a test run of the new equipment and toys.

Tony had fantasized for week about how he would punish his contractor but Phil had done the impossible and finished on time - just. This was not supposed to have happened. Phil should have been late. Contractors were always behind schedule, it was expected.

The state-of-the-art playroom, with all the new toys, had only needed one thing to be inaugurated - a contractor in default. The little imp had outdone his plans. Damn him!

Maybe he had been spooked. That was it. The thought of his new playroom having scared its maker made him feel better. Not much, though. He was grabbing at straws. Not having got his man felt like a failure. He had miscalculated.

The new playroom had been designed for connoisseurs and its elaborate features were wasted on the inexperienced and often naïve young men who sought an audience with him.

Someone else needed to be lured. Someone self-assured. Someone who needed to be given a lesson, taken down a peg. Someone like the owner of that leather shop at HQ who liked to prance about in his leather. That obnoxious Troy. Yes. He would be perfect.

Troy had been closely associated with the design of many special harnesses and restraints needed to complement the innovative features imagined by Phil. He would certainly be interested in seeing his creations in use. No?

Luring Troy

Although the new playroom had long been finished, Tony kept visiting the Little Leather Shop, spending time and money on toys. Only when Troy, the owner, was present, it went without saying.

There were always special orders needing much discussion and occasional returns for the purpose of alterations to the custom orders. Yet, the last thing Tony wanted was to befriend Troy, whose good looks and popularity simply got under his skin.

The intent was to instill interest and curiosity. Create a mystery around his special playroom. Make it irresistible. Surely, Troy would eventually ask to see it. Take the bait. And once there… try out some of the special features? Submitting to Tony, of course.

The idea was becoming an obsession. The playroom’s occasional visitors were never good enough anymore. They did not understand what Tony was looking for and merely submitted without protest, hoping their torment would not last too long. Their visit was a means to an end, nothing more. Or so it seemed to Tony.

Troy, on the other hand, would be a conquest. The cocky leather man irritated him. Having Troy submit to him so that he could humiliate him would give him such pleasure.

The leather shop, having supplied the name of the contractor as well as many of the special features of the playroom, Tony felt that it had given Troy too much claim to his space. He felt like he needed to re-appropriate his playroom.

He was starting to despair that his ploy would eventually work when during one of his long discussions with Troy on the best way to suspend someone, visiting the playroom was finally mentioned.

It must be some pretty unusual space you have, said Troy. He was hoping that Tony might have photos or something he could see. The proud owner wanting to show off his special place.

I like it. It gives me pleasure, replied Tony without committing any further. He could sense that Troy’s curiosity was edging. He waited.

Any chance of seeing it? finally asked troy.

At last!

I don’t invite just anyone.

With a leering smile Troy insisted. Come onnnn. He could not help wondering if Tony was merely a very private man or if he was just enjoying shrouding himself in mystery. The secrecy seemed exaggerated… and most frustrating. He knew that the famous playroom had cost a bundle to build. Over six figures, according to Phil. But, the latter said that a confidentiality agreement prevented him from disclosing any details.

I expect that you are one who would appreciate, conceded Tony.

I certainly would not mind seeing your set-up. Seeing how you use the toys. Maybe arrange a demonstration? What Troy was hoping for was that Tony would have someone else present to show off his skills while Troy could observe. Possibly participate, if invited.

Tony had to be careful not to show too much willingness. Pretending to hesitate, I can only have you over Friday night. He managed to make it sound almost inconvenient. Nine o’clock?

Friday night was a bad choice. A busy night at LLS. And then, Saturday Troy and James were going to the country for the long weekend.

How about Friday a week from today and let’s make it ten. I hate to leave early on Fridays.

Eleven, then; next Friday. Having finally obtained what he wanted, there was no need to be difficult.

Even better. Where? Oh, I know. Phil told me. Barringford Estates. That’s a bit of a trek. Well, OK. Eleven, next Friday.

Here’s the address.

Labour Day

The annual Labour Day party at Chuck and Monty’s country place was to be somewhat more sedate this particular September. Some of their regular guests having been left out the previous year, due to the daunting leather theme, Chuck and Monty had decided to declare it a gap year and not have a theme. They had briefly considered Robin Hood and his Merry Men, however, keeping in mind their problematic guest list, they had quickly abandoned the idea. Fences had to be mended with some older less energetic invitees. The ones who saw the weekend party mostly as an occasion to drink and socialise with friends. The ones that had been dropped from the previous year’s guest list.

Still, Chuck and Monty had no desire to turn their annual bash into a sleeper and had made sure to include some of their younger friends. If nothing else, they would be most appreciated by the gaggle of older gay men and liven up the party. Of course, age did not determine one’s potential for rowdiness. Adrian, in his mid-fifties, was still a formidable Leather Master and quite an active member of the community. He definitely rated three Woofs. But, in previous years, there had been less of a desire by the older generation to participate in theme parties. And when they did participate, it had generally been a token effort. So, a gap year had been declared.

Nevertheless, it was their party and Chuck had insisted on certain guests, namely Geoff and James amongst others. He had an inkling that Geoff had a soft spot for James and, had he his way, he would readily have them elope but, the best he had been able to manage had been to facilitate an encounter.

Of course, the Village Barbershop Quartet had also been invited and showed up in full attendance.

And, when you invited James you also invited Troy.

As planned, guests trickled in throughout the morning and early afternoon on Saturday of the holiday weekend. It was an odd mixture of retired affluent older men and energetic younger playful boys. The term ‘boy’, as used by the senior guests, referring to men in their twenties and early thirties… definitely not adolescents.

The weather was threatening but the clouds did not break and the rain was averted. During the afternoon, the younger generation, i.e. the under forty, stuck to Chuck, helping get the place organised for the evening.

Glad you could make it, Geoff. Chuck was trying to gather dead wood and odd logs for the evening bonfire.

"I asked a colleague of mine to look after business for a couple of days. I felt like