Clean Living

Clean Living, 1/?
by Scribe

Chapter One
Meeting Night

"Precious, if you don't get your round little butt in gear I am going to LEAVE you here, then punish you when I get home." Clive's voice, drifting back to the bedroom from near the front door, was impatient.

*Oops,* thought Trenton. *I should have given myself more time to get dressed. I could have put this on in the gym after self defense, but it's hard to get a private cubicle after the class, and this isn't something I want to struggle into in public. I'm just glad I don't have to wear a tie. Clive won't allow me to just loosen them--I have to tie the knot over every time I wear one. Yeah, it looks better, I guess, but it isn't as if I couldn't iron them instead.*

Trenton heard Bryant, sounding amused, call out, "I'd listen if I were you, Trent. He's pacing."

*Darn. Where the heck is that other sock? I KNOW I rolled them up in pairs--Clive would have a couple of inches of my skin if I left a messy sock drawer. There it is! Now I just have to...*

It wasn't quite a roar, but the voice was DEFINITELY raised. "TRENTON VESPASIAN VITTELLI!"

"Eep!" Trenton came out of the bedroom, hopping on one foot as he tried to work the other more firmly into a boot. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"You WON'T be later tonight if you keep this up," snapped Clive.

Bryant was sitting on the couch, but he hopped up just in time to keep Trenton from toppling over in his hasty hop. "Whoa, kiddo. It won't do any good to be on time if you break your neck."

"He's BEYOND being on time," said Clive shortly. "We're going to have to hit all the lights just right to make the meeting on time. Bryant, are you sure that you don't want to come?"

"Thanks," said Bryant, "But Mrs. Havasnark and Mister Bellows are going to teach me mah jongg tonight. She has a set of ivory tiles she claims were given to her by Chang Kai Shek."

"Good lord. I'd wonder how much of what she tells us is real if I hadn't seen evidence that some of the more extravagant claims were true."

"Like what?" asked Trent curiously as they left the apartment.

"Well, for one thing a mash note that's signed Fidel Castro. And before you say it might be a forgery I happen to know that a professional autograph monger offered her a pretty penny for it." They had started down the stairs. Suddenly what looked like a steady stream of cats were pouring up the stairs toward them, mewing. "Oh, drat--she's left the pet flap unlocked again. I'm going to chastise Scribe for introducing her to that device. She isn't back from the deli yet, and it's going to take ages to get them corralled back into her apartment."

"I can take care of that." Trenton reached up on top of the mail boxes that were in the entry hall, and took down a small plastic bag. He took out what looked like a handful of... Well, Clive didn't really want to think of what it looked like. He'd had a friend once who had a rabbit, and the creature had often left similar gifts in its wake. Trenton saw his stare and said, "Liver treats--emergency stash." He bent down, pushed the cat flap in, and tossed a handful into the apartment, then jumped back. Just in time. All the cats rushed back into the apartment--bumping, jostling, and hissing at each other--and they moved even more quickly than they had escaping. "Works every time."

"Clever." Clive's voice was only slightly grudging. They went out to his car, and as he unlocked it he said, "What on earth took you so long?"

Trenton put his hands behind his back and looked down at his toes, saying meekly, "I was getting a surprise ready for you."

Clive paused, studying him, and some of the irritation went out of his expression. "A surprise, hm?" Clive always enjoyed Trenton's surprises--whether it was a new type of candy he'd concocted with Elise, a new scene for role playing, or just some little, unexpected romantic or erotic touch. Clive remembered the time Trenton had come up behind him at Attitudes and whispered in his ear, saying that he was trying out a butt plug, just to see if he'd like to wear one occasionally. Clive did something very unusual--for him: he promised his client a raincheck, then turned her over to another cosmotologist. That was the unusual part. The part where he dragged Trenton back into his private station, ripped his clothes off, bent him over the chair and fucked him wasn't unusual at all. "Well, get in, pet. The sooner we're back, the sooner you can give it to me." He was getting in, so he missed Trenton's small, secret smile.

The meeting was being held at the home of Prescot Prescott, where Bryant had attended his first Doms and Dommes party. The guard at the security shack greeted them respectfully, checked them off on the guest list, and passed them through. Once again there was a submissive waiting outside the house to park their car. Prescot was dressed in casual clothes instead of a robe this time, but that was because this was more of a meeting than a party. "Welcome!" he said, shaking hands with Clive. "Trenton, c'mere and give me a hug." Trenton did, and Prescot's hands wandered a little. Clive was hanging up his jacket, so he didn't see Prescot suddenly move his hands questioningly over Trent's back, then give him an inquiring look, and Trent's small shake of his head. "Everyone's in the usual place. Trenton, if you want to take anything off, the submissives are leaving their clothes in the first bedroom. Help yourself to refreshments, and we'll be starting the meeting proper in about ten minutes."

"You mean we're not the last to arrive?" asked Clive.

"No. We're still waiting on Chloe and Mathilda."

Trenton was bouncing on his heels. "Sir," he said to Clive. "I need to visit the facilities."

Clive frowned. "Why didn't you do that before we left the apartment?"

"Because you wanted me to hurry."

"Oh, go on. I'll get some food for you, and I want you to come directly to me. Don't go schmoozing around the room, chattering with the other submissives."

"No, Sir."

"Thanks," said Trenton, almost trotting as he headed back toward the bathroom.

The living room had been rearranged so that the seating was all in the back section of the room, leaving the front open. There was a table of refreshments near the entrance, and a casual style speaker's podium between it and the chairs. Most of the seats were occupied when Clive entered, the guests eating, drinking, feeding submissives, and chatting. Greetings were exchanged, and Clive filled a plate with dainty sandwiches and grapes, and got a glass of fruit punch.

There was an empty love seat at the front of the group, and he settled on that. One of the Doms leaned over and said, "Hey Clive, where's that pretty boy of yours? I always look forward to seeing him at these functions. He's easy on the eyes."

Clive nodded, feeling absolutely no discomfort at hearing Trenton admired. He knew that everyone in this group respected the submissives, and wouldn't dream of interferring with one who wasn't their own. "He had to visit the littlest room in the house. I'm a bit miffed with him. He took a ridiculously long time getting dressed tonight."

A surprised and appreciative murmur had been rising around them, and the Dom was looking past Clive, toward the hall that led back into the apartment. "Really? Doesn't look like enough to have taken much time." Clive turned around. It was a good thing that he'd set his food and drink on the low table before the sofa, because otherwise he'd have made quite a mess.

Trenton was standing in the center of the hallway, posture very straight, hands clasped behind his back. This gave an excellent view of what he was, and wasn't, wearing. The shirt, pants, shoes, and socks were gone. Trenton was barefooted (a classic sign of submission), and the only clothing he was wearing was a tiny black silk thong. His skin, kept satin smooth through regular shaving and waxing, gleamed in the light, and it was accented by a series of black leather straps. He was wearing a full body harness, held in place by silver buckles. The straps fitted over his shoulders. They ran down his sides, along his torso, and a series of three passed around his body--across his chest, over his belly, and at his hips, just over where his pubic thatch would have begun. The body straps were in sections. There were short sections in the center, fastened to the side straps by passing through wide silver rings. The rings at chest level perfectly encirled Trenton's nipples, which were perked with excitement. The side straps extended down Trenton's hips to buckle to the straps that encirled his thighs, just below where they joined to his body.

Trenton waited till Clive lifted slightly stunned eyes to his face. Then he smiled sweetly, dropped to his knees, and crawled over to his Dom, accompanied by applause. He sat at Clive's feet, and leaned his head against Clive's knee, biting gently at the leather of his pants. Clive reached down and stroked his head, whispering, "Darling, I hope that this is the surprise, because if there's anything MORE surprising than this, I'm not sure my heart will be able to stand it."

Trenton lifted his head, resting his chin on Clive's knee and gazing up at him, green eyes sparkling. "Gotcha, didn't I?"

"You certainly did, precious. And I, in return, will get you GOOD when we get home. In fact, if we pass a secluded area on the way home, you just might get it BEFORE then."

Trent smiled. "I knew you'd like it. I used the prize money I got for that cookie contest the Daily Planet ran."

"Trent, I know leather, and the prize wouldn't have covered that."

"You know I've been helping out occasionally in the kitchen at Lavender's Green? Toddy insists on paying me for it." He shrugged. "I have everything I need, so I've been saving it up."

Clive kissed him. "And you used it to buy me a present, because that is DAMN sure for me, even if you're wearing it." Trenton stuck out his tongue playfully. "Brat. Not that I'm not happy, love, but what brought this on? It isn't my birthday. Is it some special occasion?"

"I'll tell you when we get home." Trenton nodded toward the entrance. "Chloe and Tilda just got here, so they'll be starting soon."

The two women were at the refreshment table--one small and soberly dressed, the other large, blonde, and dressed in a jumper that would have looked perfectly in place at a grade school. The blonde looked up, and Trenton smiled, waving at her. Mathilda was one of Trenton's first friends among the submissives, and they'd become quite close. Mathilda brightened, waving at him happily. She touched Chloe's arm, speaking to her in a wheedling voice. Chloe looked back at where Clive and Trenton was sitting, then gave Mathilda a nod.

Tilda skipped over to the sofa and dropped a curtsy in front of the two men. "H'lo, Clive--Trent. Mommy said I can sit with you, if it's all right."

"Of course it is, pet," said Clive. "Couch or floor?"

"Couch, please," said Mathilda. She twisted, as if bashful. "I forgot to wear panties, and that rug would tickle my bottom."

"Wicked girl," said Clive, patting the sofa beside him.

She nodded as she sat down, saying cheerfully, "Mommy's going to spank me when we get home," she giggled, "goody-goody." She leaned over and peered at Trenton. "Oo! It turned out great."

"You knew about this?" asked Clive.

"Of course." Chloe placed her load of refreshments on the table, then sat on Mathilda's other side. "Trent came over to our place to get the proper measurments. He'd told Mathilda what he was planning, and we weren't about to let him trust something that important to some anonymous leather worker. It looks wonderful, dear," she said to Trenton. "I told you that silver would look better than brass. Brass would have been good if you were going with brown leather for the straps, but with the black leather it would have been like wearing brown shoes with a black suit."

They had another couple of minutes before the meeting officially began. Mathilda asked for, and was given permission, to feed Trenton. They whispered and giggled together. Clive reflected that if the world were different, Trenton and Mathilda might have made a good couple. They looked sweet together, and got along well. There was true fondness there, but since they were both gay it took the form of brother and sister affection. A couple of times when Chloe had to be out of town on business, Mathilda had 'slept over' at Clive's, and Clive had grumbled that it always turned into a slumber party when Tilda and Trent got together.

Finally Prescot went up to stand behind the podium, calling out, "Oyez, oyez!" He paused as the murmur of the crowd died down. "Say, does anyone know what the heck that means, and why they use it as a call to attention in..." Trenton's hand had shot up. Prescot rolled his eyes good naturedly, and there were chuckles. "I might have known. Well, if I don't let him tell us, he'll pout. What's it mean, Trent--but keep it brief."

"From the French--oiez, the imperitive verb 'to hear'. It's a directive to everyone to come and listen, this is serious stuff," said Trenton. "Used mostly to open court hearings, or occasionally by an enthusiastic town cryer in one of those heritage villages."

"Our school system does not work in vain," said Prescot cheerfully. "Anyway, call to order, folks. We have serious business tonight, and I'm glad to see that everyone was able to attend. We'll be casting a vote before the night is out, and we want to be sure that everyone is represented. Now, if you'll remember, last month the committee solicited suggestions regarding the use funds. We've had a good year, and more than met our charity committments, and we have a good bit of cash left over. There were some good suggestions, but the committee finally settled on one that we think will benifit this chapter in particular, and the national organization in general. As you're all aware, every year Doms and Dommes hold an international convention. The last several years they've been held over seas, and the costs proved prohibitive to sending a representative. I know that disappointed us all, but we didn't want to take funds that had been earmarked for other interests." There were muttered agreements. The Doms and Dommes Club contributed heavily to various charities each year, and they were willing to work hard to meet the obligations they'd willingly taken on. But several major contributors had moved away recently, joining chapters in other cities, so the income for charity work had shrunk.

"Well," said Prescot, "I'm pleased to tell you that this year the convention is being held right here in the good ol' U S of A--in convention city, Las Vegas!" There was applause and cheers. "Great, isn't it? The national committee have been working on this for some time, and they've been able to secure some fantastic deals on travel arrangements and rooms at good hotels. There's also a prestigeous professional dungeon that will be available to convention attendees at reduced rates. There will be seminars for the curious to introduce them to the D/s lifestyle, and demystify it. As I'm sure you're all aware, we still face prejudice in the mainstream. This is a chance for us work with the mainstream." He smiled at Clive and Trenton. Trent's head was once again settled on Clive's lap, and the Dom was stroking his hair. "We can show them that we're not so very different from them. Our chosen lifestyle isn't exploitative. We can truly love, and be loved in return."

"Now, to continue the good news. We had thought at first that we would elect one Dom or Domme to attend, with a submissive of their choice, naturally. However we find that the funds available will stretch to allow TWO couples! The main issue of the meeting tonight will be choosing those representatives. I'll ask for nominations now."

Trenton's head jerked up, and he stared eagerly into Clive's face. He was almost quivering with excitement. Clive looked back down at him, then looked up at Prescot. "Question: when is this going to be?"

"June," said Prescot. "Last weekend of the month."

"Then that gives us almost two months to make arrangements." He considered a moment, then smiled down at Trenton, "Oh, all right, pet. Go on, before you burst."

Trenton's hand shot straight up again. "I nominate my man--Clive!"

The nomination was greeted with clapping. That covered up Clive's amused murmur, "And by extension yourself?"

Trenton just smiled sweetly.