This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. Some chapters contain graphic descriptions of same-sex coupling (that's FUCKING for the common folk). If reading such material offends you or should be illegal in your area for whatever reason, please do us both a favor and click away now. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy Ben's latest adventure.
CHAPTER 27 The Hellfire Gala
CHARACTERS Ben Dover: age 49, our dauntless hero Fr. Mark Ryan: age 51, former Catholic Priest now Club Promoter and Manager of the Saint Mychel Judge Center for LGBTQ Youth Ethan Gray: age 45: Ben's live-in boyfriend Jay Dover: age 15: Ben's son Colin Stanford: age 17. The "Golden Prince" of the Pacific Mermen and Jay's destined "partner" Scooter Browne, age ??: Ben's Brownie servant "Chantal Charmaine" age 26, server with a secret at the Hellfire Gala Glenn Gabler age 39: owner of Golden Gables Construction, Ben's boss Valerie Gabler age 36, Glenn's younger Sister
AUTHOR'S NOTES
To those of you who have stuck with me through these past thirteen months (and a bit) while you waited for the latest installment of Ben's adventures, thank you. I hope you enjoyed this Chapter as Dover and Son nears its end. (And, yes, Commissioner Dover is still in the pipeline so Ben's adventures are hardly finished!) Any errors in continuity are mine and mine alone: although I probably SHOULD have read the preceding chapters I didn't read everything (and I don't take notes on my own work): some errors may have crept in. Apologies in advance for any mistakes made.
Thanks to my crack editorial staff" for all their kind assistance--especially "Marko the Magnificent". (I hope you enjoyed the Character I based off of our conversations.) And while I'm at it--I've lost the list of those who wished to be contacted when new material is released. If you want to be notified please send a quick note to one of the addresses below. (You can expect more from this story and Olympus Island soon) Likewise, if you spot glaring errors you can drop me a line and I'll try to correct them. Any other questions, comments, suggestions and complaints are always welcome. I can be reached at HonableRonable@gmail.com or RonVenable@hotmail.com and I will respond--eventually.
THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY, THE TREEHOUSE AT SEACLIFF MANOR
"I've got to say I was surprised you asked me to lunch..." Fr. Mark said. Today the defrocked Priest had chosen matching black shorts and tee shirt with high-top sneakers for lunch in the Redwoods Tree House. Even along the coast the temperature was racing past the mid-eighties (and it was destined to get even warmer later in the day. Ben, wearing work jeans, a plaid shirt and heavy boots, almost envied the former Priest in his light attire. "Your brother's Brownie--Bruno, isn't it? insisted we eat here in the treehouse: he said this was your favorite place at Seacliff Manor."
"It is," Ben agreed. "This place always relaxes me." Then "I've got somethin' f'r ya," Ben rumbled. The big Texan reached into his shirt pocket and handed the other man an envelope. "There's a little somethin' t' `prime th' pump' f'r the new Mychel Judge Center: hopefully that'll be a decent start!"
Mark's brown eyes grew large as he read the document. "This can't be right..." he finally gulped. "It says there's over three-quarters of a million dollars in the rebuilding fund!"
"Nope, th' number's right..." Ben said. "Nils Gustafsen contributed $400,000; I put in two hunnert n' fifty k'; my brother an' John Thomas contributed a hunnert thousand an' th' extra came from th' Lycanthropes an' a c'llection taken at Golden Gables. Hell--even my son Jay put in some o' his allowance! With matchin' funds from th' Wonderworks Foundation an' Llyr Charities y' ought t' be doin' pretty good after th' insurance finally pays out..."
"If the insurance decides to accept the claim..."
"Now, now, ol' Son," Ben said. "If y'r insurance comp'ny proves--difficult I'm sure one o' y'r friends c'n find an expensive Lawyer t' write a letter pointin' out th' error o' their ways! They'll cough up th' cash!" Ben tapped the side of his head. "I'm sure of it!"
"Ah, neat trick that!" Mark observed. "So--do you ever get glimpses of things you don't want to know?"
"Occasionally..." the big Texan admitted. "Now n then I'll get random impressions bout folks an' some o' that c'n be mighty disheartenin'!"
"I sometimes felt that way hearing confessions," the former Priest admitted. "A lot of it was dull as dishwater but, very rarely, I'd hear something that made my blood boil--especially when I recognized the voice..."
"Yep," Ben agreed, "I r'member a lady we all called Sister Bertha Better-Than-You! One day she got religion an', lord howdy! th' things she confessed! I gotta say though--I'm glad I didn't have this gift when I was doin' police work..."
"So Ben--tell me, do you miss that life?"
"Sometimes," the big man replied frankly. "I was a good cop an' I ran a clean operation back in Houston. I appreciated bein' able t' get justice f'r folks who desperately needed it but sometimes it ud get mighty frustratin' when some damn DA was too lazy t' put in th' work t' get a conviction r a Judge would let a perp off on a technicality!"
"Sounds like you were quite the paladin!" Fr. Mark observed.
"These days I'm more of a Knight Errant," Ben commented.
"So--you spend your nights erring?" Mark asked, raising one eyebrow. "Now that you and Ethan are involved and you're raising your Son I'd have thought you'd have settled down!"
"It c'n be a bit of a chore," Ben agreed, "but we work it out somehow. Ethan, after being `touched' by Freya, has th' morals of an alley cat an' Jay just wants his ol' man t' be happy! Ethan travels a lot f'r his job so we've found a way t' work things out. I just hafta r'member who I'm comin' home to at th' end of it all."
Fr. Mark looked troubled. "I can generally sense a connection between Gods and mortals," he offered, "but I don't sense that with Ethan! Maybe it's just that Freya is from another pantheon..."
"Can y' sense my connection with Odin?" Ben asked.
"Big guy--if I squint my eyes just right I can almost see Huginn' and Muninn' perched on your shoulders whispering into your ears!" the former Priest told him. "You aren't quite as tightly bound to Odin as I am to Dionysus but your connection is strong! I don't sense anything from Ethan..."
Now it was Ben's turn to look troubled. "I wonder why that is..." he finally mumbled.
"It's probably nothing," Fr. Mark assured him. "Some connections are stronger than others: a few of the God-touched barely have any residue left from the experience. Maybe Ethan is one of those! Does your awen tell you anything?"
"Not a thing," Ben told him.
"Then it's probably nothing," the other man replied. "Honestly, big guy, there's probably nothing to worry about: there's no point in borrowing trouble."
"True," the Texan agreed.
Fr. Mark decided a change of subject was in order. "I presume you're responsible for getting Llyr Charities to contribute to the rebuilding?" Ben nodded. "How did you manage that?"
"Logan Stanford feels he owes me f'r keepin' th' Pacific Mer Kingdom from splittin' up," Ben told him. "Turns out my son Jay is their Silver Prince'--th' only one who c'n control their Golden Prince'; an' that little shit c'n be quite a handful it's a long story..."
"Your brother let it slip that Jay was a Merman," the former Priest said. "How do you feel about that?"
"The mer' part of it doesn't bother me," ben admitted. "After all--since I became their Adamantine Herald' I c'n take `mer' shape if I need..." This seemed to startle the former Priest. "I wish my boy wasn't shackled by destiny t' a someone like Colin Stanford," the big man admitted, "but I know Jay c'n handle himself: he proved that already. It mighta been nice f'r him to have a more--ordinary--life but I guess that wasn't in th' cards f'r either of us..."
"You've got to play the hand fate deals you," Father Mark said. "So--should I write Mr. Stanford a personal note to thank him for his generosity?"
"Ya really should," Ben told him. "Logan Stanford, unlike some o' his kin, is a good man an' he thinks y'r center is needed in Kings Harbor. He's also th' kind o' ally that's nice to have in y'r back pocket should the need arise. I'd cultivate him if I were you."
"I'll do that!" Fr. Mark promised. "I wonder if he'd like to come to the Hellfire Gala this weekend? I could add him to the guest list easily enough."
"You can but ask?" Ben said. "I know he's in town for a while."
"So--are you and Ethan coming?"
"Ethan doesn't seem particularly excited by th' idea but I'll definitely be there," the big Texan promised. "I'll have t' find some kind o' costume though..."
LATER THAT AFTERNOON AT THE FIREHOUSE
"Aw DAAAAAAAAD!" Jay Dover was not a happy boy.
"Son--what part o' `no' doncha understand?" Ben responded sternly.
"But I already bought the tickets!" Colin chimed in. "They're a hundred bucks each! Besides--my parents would let me go..."
The big man gave the golden prince' a cold glance. "I'm not y'r parents," he said flatly. "Finocchio is a 21 n' older club; both you boys are under age--unless my calculations `r' way off!"
"Aw man!" Jay threw himself down dramatically on the sofa.
"Son--right now you've only been prevented from goin' t' an event," Ben said softly but with an air of danger in his voice. "Would ya care t' add some restriction on top o' that?"
"How come you have to be such a hardass?" Jay's entitled boyfriend demanded. "It's just a party!"
"It's at a place where, if you get caught, the local constabulary could shut down th' party then fine th' club out of existence!" Ben told the boys. "The cops here are none too fond o' gay folks in this town--they'd be more n happy t' have an excuse t' shut down Finocchio--an' especially Club Divinity! I don't intend t' give em th' chance!"
"I have fake IDs!" the young blond man informed Ben. "They're top quality! Nobody would know they aren't the real thing!"
"Really?" the Texan replied guilelessly. "Let me have a look! I used t' be a Cop, y' know an' I could spot a fake a mile away..." Colin reached into his pocket and handed over two laminated cards, a smug smile on his face. "Yep, these are damn fine! I'll bet they cost ya a pretty penny!"
"Sure did!" Ben pocketed the two fake Driver's Licenses. "Hey, give them back!" the younger man bellowed. "I paid for those! They belong to me!"
"Not anymore they don't!" Ben said frostily. "I'm confiscatin' those since you shouldn't have `em in th' first place!"
Colin looked mulish but Jay stepped in between his Dad and angry boyfriend. "Give it up Col..." he finally said. Then: "sorry Dad."
"Son--did you know `bout these fake IDs?" Ben asked.
"No sir!" Ben knew his son was speaking truthfully. "Look--we just thought it would be a cool party to go to. Honest..."
"I b'leve ya boyo..." Ben ruffled his son's hair. "I know ya think y'r ready t' take on th' world but sometimes a Dad has t' be a Dad!"
"Spare me the fake parental concern routine!" Colin said sourly. "You couldn't be bothered with your kid for fifteen years so now you don't get to step into his life and play Daddy!"
Ben looked at Jay, a deep wound clearly written on his face. "Is that how you feel son?"
"No Dad--honest!" the boy replied quickly. He shot Colin a dark look. "Dude, that was totally out of line!" Jay snapped. "The only reason my Dad didn't step in was because he didn't know about my situation! The decision was made by my biological Mom and her husband to prevent me from being confused while I was growing up! You know that. It's not my biodad's fault that the `rents' relationship went sour!"
"He still doesn't have the right to boss you around!" Colin protested.
"That's what a responsible parent does," Ethan Gray said softly. Somehow, Ben's partner had managed to enter the scene without anyone realizing he was there. (Ethan had a real talent for not being noticed until he wanted to be seen.) "Parents have to make hard choices sometimes--especially for headstrong teenagers!"
"Tell your boyfriend he's being unreasonable!" Colin demanded.
"Why?" the older man replied. "From what I heard Ben made the right call! We don't want Finocchio shut down or Fr. Mark to get in trouble so you two shouldn't come to the Gala. I'm certain the local police will be there--looking for a violation so they can shut the place down."
"But we have awesome costumes!" Colin protested.
"Maybe we can have an end-of-summer costume party at the henge," Ben offered. "Jay needs to meet some of your friends and maybe start making some o' his own."
"Ok, that works," Jay agreed. "Can I help plan the party?"
"Sure," Ben agreed. "I admit, I ain't in touch with what y'all's generation find acceptable!"
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY (GETTING READY FOR THE GALA)
"You are NOT leaving the house dressed like that, young man!" Jay teased; honestly, he wasn't sure how to react to his father's regalia for the Hellfire Gala so he decided to give his father a bit of guff. "Really, I thought you'd have more sense! Make better choices! I'm SOOOOOO disappointed..."
"So--ya like th' costume?"
"It's great--for somebody who isn't my Dad..." the younger Dover admitted.
"It is a bit much..." the big Texan agreed. His "house Brownie" Scooter had used his magic to present Ben with lug-soled black boots that had gold gromets. Thick scarlet laces wound through the holes and were tied neatly. Above this were skin-hugging black satin tights with lots of artful little slashes that showed off his beefy, well-tanned, hairy legs, impressive bulge and beefy bootie. His belly was cinched in by what appeared to be several broad leather straps held together by a golden bear's head bauble with ruby-chip eyes. This left most of his broad, hairy chest bare except for a pair of crisscrossing studded leather straps and a heavy gold necklace adorned with another ruby-eyed bear dangle. His arms had broad leather straps, three below the elbow on one side and two above on the other. A fur-lined black leather duster coat with the sleeves removed finished the look. His greying brown hair looked as if it had been moussed with an egg beater then tipped with red and gold dye. "Still, I look pretty good--I guess..."
"You need nipple caps or fake piercings," Jay offered.
"No. Just no."
Scooter handed the big man a black eyepatch embroidered with a scarlet raven. "I realize it doesn't go with the rest of the ensemble Sir, but I thought it best not to offend your patron deity."
"Makes sense," Ben agreed as he swapped out his plain eyepatch for the fancier one.
"The idea is for guests to dress as over-the-top as humanly possible!" Ethan said, "and that is about as over-the-top as you can get without showing up in high drag!" The other man had chosen a far less "extreme" outfit. He was wearing particolored tunic and hose in shades of gray and had his head and shoulders covered by a darker gray hood and capelet. His face was covered by an exaggerated mask in white porcelain painted with clownish details in scarlet, black and gold.
"That's--different..." Jay said uncertainly.
"Don't you like it?" Ethan asked.
"Um--it's--OK I guess..." the young man said hesitantly. "Honestly, it's a little creepy!"
"Sorry bucko--I'm just not as--flamboyant--as your Dad," Ethan said with a wry smile. "Honestly, if I could get away with wearing just a plain suit I would!"
"Ah, my little wallflower" Ben said. "Well ol' Son, ya ready t' go?"
"You gonna take your truck?" Jay asked.
"Why not?"
"Uh--no..." Ethan said. "If we must go to this party we're going by limo! And, before you start complaining Ben, I've already made the arrangements! We're going to have to walk the `Blood Red Carpet' to get in to the event and I don't want us showing up in your pickup--even if it's a super-nice hybrid truck! The car should be here right about--now!"
LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HELLFIRE GALA
Finocchio had started life as a baroque movie palace/burlesque house back in the glory days of the 1920s and much of the elegant detail from that period had survived. The movie palace had gone through the inevitable decline when city-dwellers fled for the suburbs in the 1950s and 60s but rose again like a phoenix when gays and artists looking for cheap houses started buying affordable properties in North Harbor in the 1990s. The North Harbor Arts District had been going strong ever since and Finocchio was one of the main reasons.
When Roger Wright bought the place, the once-glorious structure had become a down-at-the-heels porno theatre, but the new owner found most of the details hidden behind plywood walls and dropped ceilings. Careful and loving restoration/renovation (and a ton of cash) transformed the place into a grand Supper Club right out of a classic movie. Wright had installed several truly massive chandeliers to illuminate the place and had added fancy wall sconces that had elements from the lighting above. Tonight the club was awash in scarlet and black with a broad central dance floor and tables along the sides. Behind the tables were a row of secluded booths, each in their own nook, that could be curtained off for privacy. They were slightly raised to give a better view and Ben was happy to see all of them had been reserved; many were already occupied.
"Champagne Sir? REAL Pain?" Ben had no doubt this individual could dish out as much "pain" as desired, whether it be "sham" or "real": the server was nearly as tall as Ben (thanks to sky-high spiked heels and hair "piled for the Gods"). Tonight the wait staff were decked out in black lace and satin lingerie, hose (complete with garter belts) and black opera gloves that went up past the elbows. The server appeared to have a very impressive rack above her tightly-cinched waist and what seemed to be a well stuffed basket in lace panties.
Ben distractedly took a glass from the tray. "Shoo, shoo Chantal!" Fr. Mark said from behind the big man. "Don't worry big guy, she doesn't bite!"
"Unless requested..." Chantal purred. She retreated, giving both men a glimpse of a nice round ass.
"Yes, `she's a Succubus," the former Priest said, recognizing the big Texan's unspoken query, "but don't worry--she's tame! Mostly..." Ben turned to greet his friend and got yet another surprise. Tonight Fr. Mark was clad from head to toe in scarlet leather. His ensemble was thigh high boots (which Ben couldn't figure how the former Priest had gotten into) below a well-stuffed jock that left Mark's entire ass bare. His hairy belly was on display and the man didn't seem to care about displaying his slight paunch and love handles. Above this was a short garment with a hood and bell sleeves ( more scarlet leather lined in black satin). A bejeweled cross hung around the former Priest's neck and he had a silk cat-o-nine tails attached to a leather belt (also scarlet). The other side had something that Ben couldn't decide was a bejeweled mace, censor or maybe a massive dildo. "You like?" Mark gave a twirl so Ben could see the outfit from all angles.
"I'm very--conflicted..." Ben admitted. "I don't know whether to be utterly scandalized or offer to drag you into the men's john for a quickie!"
"Just so you know--I'm a top!" the brown-haired man informed him. "But if you ask nicely enough I might let you take my virginity..."
"Sorry ol' Son, this whole scene is gonna take a bit o' getting' used to."
"Don't sweat it," Mark replied. "Tonight is about living a fantasy! This is a safe space: everyone here can let out their kinky side. There might be a few hook-ups--maybe more than a few... But when the sun rises tomorrow it will all just be a pleasant memory! You have Dionysus's word on it!" Just then Ben heard the band strike up "dum-dum-da-dum, da dum!" "Ah, the floor show is starting..."
The musical "sting" repeated five more times as Chantal took to the stage with a wireless mic and began singing. "The minute you walked in the joint--I could tell you were a man of distinction, a REAL big spender!" She cast a hot-eyed gaze at the Mayor of Kings Harbor who was eating the whole thing up. "Good lookin', SO refined! Wouldn't ya like to know what's goin' on in my mind...?"
"So let me get right to the point--I don't pop my cork for every guy I see-ee?" Some of the other servers joined Chantal on stage: Ben saw a mixture of men, women and Drag Queens (alt of them gorgeous and built for sin) but their music was perfect and the choreography was tight. "HEY BIG SPENDER!" the entire chorus line finished, "speeeeeeeeend a little time with me..."
This was followed by an extended dance break where the group on stage bumped and grinded with the best of them and the audience was eating it up! "Wouldja like to have--fun!" sang a tiny, gorgeous platinum blond. "How's about a few--laughs?" from an "A-List Muscle Bear. "I could show you a--" BOOM! BOOM! "--good time..." sang a breathy Drag Queen done up like a silver screen siren.
"Would you like to have--FUN?" one third of the group sang.
"How's about a few--laughs?" the second group sang while the first girls cooed "fun--fun...fun..."
"I could show you a--GOOD TIME!" The last group finished their line with a musical belt worthy of Broadway.
"Fun, laughs, good times..."
"Fun, laughs, good time..."
"Fun, laughs, good time..."
At his point the whole group left the stage and found someone in the audience to flirt with as the music continued. Ben wondered how the Mayor's wife was going to react when she saw Chantal up on her man but the lady seemed utterly distracted by a butch dude (even in heels and lingerie) who was grinding on her like he was corn and she was a millstone. Everyone was having a grand time until the group went back on stage to reprise the opening lines.
"Well babies..." Chantal cooed into her mic, "remember to check out the silent auction' items! We have everything from Tea in a Tree' to a Mercedes SLK and a cruise for four aboard Symphony of the Seas! And don't forget to tip your Servers! Half of everything we get tonight is going to the rebuilding fund for the Mychel Judge Center--at least the cash..."
Ben watched the Mayor extricate a Benjamin from his wallet then offer it to Chantal but the Succubus, in a move right out of the Jetsons intro, snatched his wallet, removed the rest of his cash then handed the emptied container back to the Mayor (who was too blissed out to notice he'd been whammied). The big Texan briefly considered saying something but his awen told him how much the Mayor and his cronies had grifted from city accounts so Ben figured the Mayor could afford a small donation to a good cause. Meanwhile his wife was stuffing bills into the butch dancer's already-stuffed lace jock.
"Enjoying the show?" Ben looked over to see his Boss Glenn Gabler accompanied by a taller, female version of himself. Glenn was clad in a barely-there jock pouch which was covered by a three-dimensional "SMILEY" emoji; the only thing else he wore (besides body glitter sprinkled all over his smooth-shaved hyperdeveloped physique) were leather boots and fingerless gloves. "This is my `little' sister Valerie." The woman had chosen to follow her older brother's example by showing up to the affair in a body-baring gold chainmail bikini. High-heel sandals with straps that went to mid-thigh (and she was at least 5'11" in bare feet), thick gold bracelets up her arms and a headdress and cloak that looked like a falcon head and plumage completed her ensemble.
"Hello Allfather," she said in a deep contralto voice. The Valkyrie extended her hand in a friendly greeting. One touch was enough to reveal that Valerie carried the true essence of Freya and that essence was strong in her. "My brother has told me so much about you..." Ben blanched. "Allfather--are you OK?"
The big man shook his head to drag himself back to the here and now. "I'll be fine," he told her, "it's just that someone I trusted has been lyin' to me f'r quite some time! I just don't know why..."
"Judging by the expression on your face, big guy, I wouldn't want to be that person when you catch up to him!" Glenn commented. His sister nodded in silent agreement.
Ben started looking around the club trying to find Ethan: even though his costume was hardly as outrageous as some things people had chosen to wear, Ben thought his partner would be easy enough to spot with his awen--even in this crowd but that proved harder than he expected since he saw at least twelves men in the identical costume scattered throughout the club. Ben's awen told him they were all members of the Knights Templar. "Fr. Mark--prepare for trouble!" Ben hissed.
"That won't be necessary..." a smooth cultured voice said as one of the masked men stepped up. He removed his mask to reveal the face of Manuel Rodriguez de la Rocha, the man who'd burned down the first Mychel Judge Center.
"Glenn--Valerie, get as many people as you can out of here!" Ben snapped. "These boys are trouble!"
The Gablers hastened to comply but again the man in the gray particolored costume raised his hand. "That won't be necessary," he said in his cultured European-accented English. "Rest assured--if we wanted you dead, you and everyone else in this club would be! Yes, this place is filthy with abominations but, for the sake of innocent humans, we'll let everyone live--provided you come with me at once! Our Knight Commander wishes to speak with you."
"Don't go with him!" Valerie said forthrightly. "We can take down these chuckleheads!"
"Possibly," de la Rocha agreed. "You might be able to do that--but I wouldn't advise it! The Knight Commander has your son! Now--are you going to come with me or do I burn this place to the ground with everyone in it?"
END CHAPTER 27
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