Row, Row, Row Your Boat
I was in a rowboat. The sun was bright on my face. The weather was warm, almost too warm. The air was humid and smelled faintly of something…maybe cedar. The boat bobbed gently on the lake. Chuckling little ripples slapped against the hull.
All the sudden, a fish jumped into the boat and landed in my lap. I grabbed it and held it in my fist. Its body felt smooth and warm, not scaly at all. Its mouth worked open and closed. The fish spoke in a tiny voice. I leaned close to its mouth to hear it better. It whispered, “fuck me harder.”
I opened my eyes into the glare of the bedroom ceiling lamp. The bed rocked gently under me. I heard the sticky slap of skin against skin. Church’s voice said, “fuck me harder.”
I sat up and realized my right hand was wrapped around my morning wood. I squeezed it so tightly that the red ghost my handprint remained even after I released it. I blinked the sleep film from my eyes and managed to meet Church’s gaze. He was on his knees with his shoulders on the bed and his face turned toward me. Ancil was fucking his ass.
He grinned. “Morning sleepyhead. We tried to wait for you, but you took too long.”
“How long did you wait?”
Ancil walloped Church’s ass with a hard smack, then answered my question. “At least five minutes.”
I rubbed my face with both hands. “Love, I think we’ve created a monster.”
Church disagreed. “We didn’t create it. We just woke it up.”
I got the reference to Ancil’s penis and shook my head over it.
“Hey, uh, Shawn,” Ancil said, “not to rush you or anything but do you want to get in on this?”
I lowered my hands just enough to look over them. I wasn’t sure where I might fit into the action. I could get Church to suck or rim me. Ancil’s mouth was available, so he could do the same, but he didn’t swallow. Ancil’s ass was open, but if I filled him, he’d have to slow his pace and Church wouldn’t like that.
I wondered how far the pair planned to go. A lot of my morning sessions with Church ended when I fucked him. He usually didn’t get off in the morning. I wondered what it would be like to stop without having an orgasm. I asked Church what his plans were. “Are you going to flip with him, or do you plan to let him load you and stop.”
He grinned and I knew I was going to be teased. “You mean, will I stop after he fills me with his Ancil essence? Yes, I don’t plan to get off.”
I chuckled over the joke from the night before, then crawled across the bed and set myself up next to Church. I put my shoulders on the bed and my ass in the air. I turned my head to face my husband. “I’m going to do the same.” I called to Ancil. “I don’t mean to assume, but will you batter my backdoor next, please?”
He didn’t answer me directly. He slapped my ass and muttered something about ‘a dream come true.’
Ancil took his time with Church, then he moved behind me. He rubbed his slick cock against my hole to let me know what I was in for, then he pushed his face between my cheeks and started rimming. His tongue work was good, but not as good as Church’s. Church remained in place to watch me bottom. “Are you going to eat me when he’s done?” I asked.
“Yup.”
I pushed my shoulders off the bed and locked my arms under me. “Then scoot over here and let me rim you while he opens me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I want to match you move for move today. Step one seems to be to start the day with a battered back door and a rim job. The battering is about to begin, time for the rim job.”
* * * *
I was able to receive Ancil much easier than I had the night before. I suspect about ten percent of that was because I’d already been physically stretched to accommodate the violation and the other ninety percent was because I was no longer nervous about it.
Once Ancil filled us both with his divine essence, we showered together. Church and I knelt to wash his huge cock as a team. He tried to refuse, but we refused his refusal. He made all manner of excuses, most of which centered around the idea that it wasn’t proper for us to kneel to him. We demanded to be allowed to clean the organ which had brought us so much pleasure. He eventually surrendered to the experience, and it completely blew his mind. Just the look on his face told me that it was quite a head-trip to have two muscled and powerful men kneel to worship his cock.
As soon as we finished, Church cupped his hands over my ear to whisper, “let’s suck him off like that later.”
I nodded my agreement and the plan was made.
When we finished in the shower, we dressed in tiny workout shorts like we’d worn for dinner the night before. Ancil tried to put his suit on and return to being our butler, but we didn’t let him. I lent him a pair of my shorts. The waist fit him well enough, but the fabric was tailored to fit my substantial butt and powerful thighs. Ancil didn’t have either, so they fit him like a pair of old lady bloomers. The only thing he wore besides the shorts was his holster and energy weapon. I almost said something about him not needing it, but it seemed to make him happy to have it on.
We gathered at the table to have breakfast and to decide what to do that day. Ancil served and sat to eat with us. It was still very early in spite of the ample time we spent on wake-up sex. I shifted in my chair. My hole felt thoroughly fucked and my ass was still raw from being slapped. I hadn’t used my magic on either. I wanted to see what it was like to go through the day like Church did. He hadn’t let me fix his raw butt or his sore hole, so I left mine alone as well.
I had to admit I kind of liked the feeling. The mild discomfort was a constant reminder of the fun we had. Every time I noticed it, my mind would flash to a memory from one of our sessions. Sometimes I’d pursue it until my cock stirred in my shorts. I didn’t want to wind up hard again, so I disciplined myself to remain in the moment and keep the erotic thoughts in the past.
It was hard…ahem, difficult to do because the men who had brought me such pleasure were nearly naked right in front of me. The fact that I didn’t get off made things even harder…ahem, more difficult. I shifted in the chair again. Both my hole and my red ass cheek noticed the movement and almost restarted the very thought process I was trying to avoid.
I looked up to find Church grinning at me. “It’s making you horny as fuck, isn’t it?”
“YES! Why do you do this to yourself every day?”
“I love it. It keeps me on edge and focuses my thoughts. Every time my mind is idle, my body makes me think of you.”
“Your body?”
“My sore ass or my fucked hole or the fact that I’ve been hard several time and haven’t gotten off. After I snack on you in the late morning or the early afternoon, I can taste you on my lips. I run my tongue over them and taste the salt of your sweat or creaminess of your load. My fingers long for the buttery smoothness of your skin, my nose for your scent, my tongue for your flavor. Whenever you’re not near, I miss the sound of your voice or the gentle rustle of your breath. What I miss the most is the kindness of your eyes. I picture their frozen blue gaze a thousand times a day. The gentle love they convey whenever you turn them upon me makes me count the seconds until I can see them again.”
I took Church’s hand and held it tightly. “I love you, my husband.”
“And I love you.”
Someone tapped gently on the door like they were afraid we might still be asleep. Ancil got up to answer it, then he froze. “I’m not even dressed!”
Church didn’t see the problem. “So?”
He lost his composure. “I CANNOT ANSWER THE DOOR LIKE THIS!”
Church shrugged and opened the door with his telekinesis. My brother walked in and wished us a subdued ‘good morning.’ Ancil came unstuck, snatched his burgundy suit from where he laid it down the night before, and charged from the main room into his private space. Primis watched him go. “Is he entirely well?”
I explained. “He spent the night with us as our friend instead of as our butler. He can’t reconcile the idea that he can be both. I presume he went to change into his other skin.” I shook my head sadly at Ancil’s dilemma but couldn’t do anything about it in the moment. I greeted my brother. “What brings you to us so early?”
He sat where Ancil had been and pulled his chair forward until his body was hard against the edge of the table. “I had a very frank discussion with Joseph last night. I did as you suggested and was completely honest about what I wanted. I admitted that I did not love Dignis, and I no longer wished to share my life with her. I said that I loved him deeply and wanted him all to myself.
“He didn’t refuse, but he didn’t accept me either. We made progress in two other areas. Joseph admitted that he’s as tired of traveling as I am. He wants to settle down and have a normal life. He also admitted that he’s grown tired of our wife. He no longer enjoys being her accessory.”
Church asked the obvious question. “What will you do? Will you divorce Dignis and stay married to Joe?”
I explained something that my husband would have no reason to know. “He can’t. When people join in a three-way marriage, they cannot divorce one person from it and remain wedded. The entire union must be dissolved. If Primis and Joe wish to be married as a couple, they must remarry each other.”
Church thought that was interesting. I thought it was good because it made becoming a couple a more deliberate process. Two members of a triple marriage couldn’t simply excommunicate the third and go along without them. There was even a mandatory one year waiting period before they could remarry.
Primis shook his head over Church’s original question. “I don’t know what we’ll do. It seems our marriage is a failure.”
I interrupted. “Don’t say it that way. You didn’t fail. A chapter of your life has come to a close. It wasn’t a waste of time to be married like you were. If it’s time to start a new chapter, do it without feeling like what you’ve left behind is somehow bad or useless. It’s just another page in your story.”
He shook his head again and shrugged. “Fair enough, but whether it was a failure or just prologue to what comes next, my marriage is going to end. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold onto Joseph once it does.”
Church clenched his fists on the table. “I’ll be damned if I let him come back to the estate and spend another decade moping around. You and him are good for each other. How can we help?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Ancil came out of his room with his immaculate burgundy suit as immaculate as always and his mask of competent efficiency firmly in place. He returned the shorts I lent him and bustled around to clear the breakfast things from the table. He offered Primis a cup of coffee or a meal, both of which my brother refused. When he finished, he opened the balcony doors to air the room and set to work on the unmade bed.
I tried to get back to my brother’s problem. “Do you think therapy would help? Church and I went for several years. It helped us both.”
He was non-committal. “Maybe.”
Church asked a question. “You guys talked last night. What do you think the problem is? Joe said some self-loathing stuff that made it sound like he thinks he’s not worthy of love. I’m not sure if that means he’s not worthy of anyone’s love or just yours. Is he convinced that he’s worthless or has he elevated you above him? Or is it both?”
I offered my thoughts. “I think it’s specific to Primis. Joe kept asking why my brother loves him. He put Primis on a pedestal and he doesn’t know how to climb up to him.”
Primis folded his hands on the tabletop. “I don’t know why he’d do something like that. I’m just me.”
Church had an idea. “What do you do for Andy? Joe does concept art. You help with that, but your mental palette or whatever-Joe-calls-it isn’t an official title. Don’t you do something with Andy’s husband, Comet?”
“I helped Joseph with his art for a while, but I needed more to do. I went to work for Comitis in the finance department. Actually, I’m the head of it now. Andy Philips Fashion is a well-capitalized firm. With all the cash we have on hand, we, or I should say, me and Comitis, decided it was time to leverage it for the betterment of the company. He and I worked together on several initiatives and we were having marked success when he and Andy wanted to build a family. Comitis stayed home to raise the children, and he put me in charge of our work. He still advises, but I run the day-to-day and make most of the decisions.
“My department looks for ways to minimize costs and maximize profits. We don’t sacrifice quality, but we seek to vertically integrate our suppliers and streamline their businesses to lower the cost of the goods they sell to the parent company. We invest in new production technology. We also put the capital to work for us in the stock market to increase our base capital.
“My team has been able to significantly increase the company’s revenue while maintaining or even increasing profits. Because of our work, Andy has been able to lower the prices of his products by ten percent. That makes his clothes and accessories more accessible to more people. The ten percent reduction led to an eighteen percent increase in revenue and a three-point-seven percent INCREASE in net profits.”
Church nearly shouted. “No wonder Joe thinks he’s not worthy! You’re an accomplished professional. He paints silly pictures.”
Primis gripped the table and scowled. “Don’t you dare make fun of my husband’s art!”
Church waved his hands in the air. “No, no, no; I don’t mean his art is silly. I mean from his perspective, when he looks at what you do and compares it to what he does, his art doesn’t measure up to your financial wizardry.”
Primis released the table and rubbed his hands together to relax the tension out of them. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”
Church accepted the apology and made one of his own. “I’m sorry for saying that badly. The point is, Joe always wanted to be an artist, but he was discouraged by our folks because they said art is silly. He went to school to be a lawyer and was proud as a peacock when he passed the bar. He loves art but he values professionalism. Deep down, he must’ve agreed with our folks that art was silly, or at least a silly way to make a living. That’s why he doesn’t measure up. What you do is professional and what he does isn’t.”
I leaned back and cupped my cheek in my right hand. “That sounds reasonable, but what do we do about it? We can’t make art ‘not silly.’ We either have to change Joe’s mind about his art or change his occupation to that of a professional. I wonder how much training he’d need to be certified as an attorney. He was a contract lawyer on Earth, right? Do you think his knowledge would be applicable here? Maybe he could work for Andy’s company.”
Church thought I was oversimplifying. “Even if you made Joe a lawyer again, it wouldn’t solve the problem because he would have to start at the bottom. He’d only be happy if he was a roaring success like Andy is with his fashion company or like Primis is with his work within the company. Joe would have to be the leading legal mind within the company for him to be satisfied and I still don’t know if it would be enough because he’d still be working for his son. The problem is his perception, not his circumstances. That makes this much more troubling because I’ve never known my brother to change his mind about anything, ever.”
I corrected the statement. “He changed his mind about our marriage being a sin.”
“Yeah, he did. You remember how fucking hard he fought before he changed, and even then, he still accepted us begrudgingly. He only married your brother because Dignissium married them both. He said last night that he’s tired of her but he didn’t commit to Primis. I fucking guarantee he’s still holding onto some of his old prejudice. It’s just who he is. I had to break his fucking jaw to get him to finally come to terms with life here on Solum.”
Tears filled my brother’s eyes and streamed down his cheeks. “Church is right! Joseph is as stubborn as stubborn ever was. I don’t want to lose him. Maybe if I quit. I could give up my position. Joseph makes enough money for us to live. I don’t need my work if I get to have my husband.”
Church shook his head. “You’re a lovely man to be willing to go that far, but it wouldn’t work. Joe would just measure himself against what you used to be.”
Ancil rushed to bring Primis a handkerchief for his tears. I got up to offer him a hug. He got control of himself and sat back down. Ancil brought Church another of his endless cups of coffee and a glass of water for me and my brother.
I had the beginnings of an idea. I offered it to see what the others thought. “What if Joe was a teacher? That’s a professional post. It gets him out of Andy’s company and lets him stand on his own. He could still paint for Andy’s shows, but that would be side work. His teaching could be his main profession.”
“What would he teach?” Church asked.
“Art, obviously. He could get his certificate easily enough. He’s a well-respected commercial artist. He could teach art appreciation or give clinics on impressionist art. He’s done a ton of research on the history of art on Solum. He’s an expert on every major art discipline from the Post-Pravus modern era. He could teach art history or theory or anything.
“He could even go on the lecture circuit and give talks. He could debate if he wanted to. He’s an excellent public speaker. We’ve all seen him at the exhibitions and fashion shows for Andy’s new lines. He always opens with a talk about the concept art which inspired the palette for the collection. His name and reputation are well known. Any artsy university would leap at the chance to add him to their faculty.
“The right university would accept him without his teaching certificate and let him earn it while he teaches classes. They could assign an aide to help with lesson plans and other formalities and he could get right to work. Things like that are done all the time for leaders of industry or scientists or physicians who are ready to retire from the demands of regular work and who wish to pass their knowledge to the next generation. I considered doing it when I stepped back from my practice. I still might one day.”
Primis let himself imagine it. “That would be wonderful. We could buy a house near the university. I could open a little office to do my work during the day and Joseph could walk to school in the nice weather. We’d be surrounded by young people and learning. Maybe I could finally convince him to give me children.”
Church asked the practical question. “How do we sell him the idea?”
Ancil cleared his throat from the other side of the table. “There’s a debate this afternoon in Corydon. The subject matter is how the founding of the republic in the Post-Pravus era impacted the art of the Protectorate of the Common States. One debater is a historian who says abstract art grew directly out of the artistic freedom brought about by the new political system. The other debater is a well-regarded still-life artist who says the seeds of the impressionist movement were already planted by specific artists and ripening long before Pravus’ reign came to an end.”
He added one more piece of information as an afterthought. “Corydon is twenty-eight miles from here. Oh, and there’s also a lecture on modern art in the town of Sinistram this weekend. That’s only seventeen miles from here in the opposite direction.”
I didn’t understand why he was telling us these things, but Church apparently did because he giggled like a small boy. “Brilliant, Ancil!”
“What’s brilliant?”
Church smiled like the morning sun. “What’s the one thing you can be sure of when you gather experts together? They’ll disagree! We need to go to these events and many more besides. Joe will listen to these pompous asses and he’ll disagree with all of them. It will make him feel like his knowledge is needed. He might even decide to teach all on his own. Even if he doesn’t, once he sees how woefully wrong everyone else is, it won’t take much to nudge him in the direction. He’ll be doing a public service by sharing his knowledge and beating back ignorance.”
Primis loved the idea. “We haven’t been to a debate in I can’t remember when! I always think they’re so much fun. I’ll tell Joseph I want to go. Will you go with us?”
Ancil answered for us. “I’ll arrange for the car and a security detail.” He opened his phone and started to tap when he realized how presumptuous he’d been. His face colored with embarrassment and he apologized for overstepping.
Church laughed and dismissed his apology. “I had every intention of going Ancil.” He looked to me. “Shawn, love, will we attend the debate today?”
“Yes, I think we should.”
He waved to Ancil. “Please make the arrangements as you suggested. Primis will confirm with Joe and we’ll have a nice double-date. Why not find a restaurant for dinner afterwards? Our fun was interrupted last night by troubles. Hopefully we’ll have no such interruptions tonight.” He double-checked with my brother. “Alright with you, Primis? A debate and a lecture and dinner. We’ll have a grand time.”
Primis cocked his head in confusion. I felt I’d missed something as well. “Love, the lecture isn’t until this weekend. The debate is today.”
“I meant the lecture we’d get from Joe on everything the debaters got wrong.”
I wanted to chuckle, but I didn’t want to offend my brother. I waited to see how he’d react. He looked as if he was going to get angry. His brow furrowed with discontent. Suddenly his forehead smoothed and he allowed himself a chuckle. “A debate and a lecture and dinner sounds great. I’ll talk to Joseph. Thanks, you two.” He amended his thanks to include Ancil. “Thank you as well, Ancillarum! Your suggestion was perfect. Let’s hope this works.”
He stood from his chair and left the room in a much brighter mood.
Church called his phone to his hand and held it up. “I’m going to call Bem for an update.” He headed for the balcony to have his discussion without disturbing me.
Ancil finished tapping on his phone and announced that the arrangements for our protection at the debate were in place. I thanked him absently but looked at him intently. I knew him very well, but knew very little about him. I wondered who he really was. I asked that he tell me about himself.
He balked. “What do you mean, Master Shawn?”
“I don’t know you. I’m surprised how little I know about you. I know you’re an only child and your parents aren’t around. I know you grew up in Oppidum. You were very young when you entered our service, only in your twenties as I recall. You like to read fantasy novels. You keep yourself very fit, but you prefer a runner’s fitness rather than a bodybuilder’s. Your birthday is February the twentieth. You spend most of your days-off at the estate. Sometimes you go into Oppidum to see people who I presume are your old friends, but those instances are few and far between. You seem to live an acetic life, but I don’t know why. I’m curious about you. Would you tell me about yourself?”
He was surprised. “I can’t believe you know my birthday right off the top of your head, and that you remembered I like fantasy novels. How did you remember?”
“Custos also loved fantasy novels. He still does.” I almost slapped my own forehead at my gaff. “I guess he better like them; he writes them after all. From the time our darling third child was little, you and he would swap the electronic files of them back and forth and talk about the plots and the characters like they were real people you knew personally. I used to laugh to myself, but I was glad you had something in common. It was nice you shared that with him.”
He pulled a chair out and sat. He was so surprised by what I said he forgot to ask permission. Not that I minded. I preferred when he did things without always asking. “How could you remember that? That was years ago.”
“How could I forget? Custos was the first of our children you got along with. I don’t think you knew how to act around the kids at first. You were always so rigid and formal with Josephine. You didn’t change much when Marian was born. It wasn’t until Custos was eleven or twelve that he started to read the same kind of material you like and you finally found common ground with one of them. You realized children were just little people and you didn’t need to treat them any which way. You weren’t so stuffy after that.”
He seemed wistful as he recalled how they discovered their common interest. “Cust had a bad habit of not drying off when he got out of the pool. He’d get out and walk into the house and right up to his room. He had all that long hair, half-way down his back, and it would leave a trail of salt water across the floor and up the stairs. I told him about it gently a few times, but he kept at it until I finally had my fill. I spoke to him sharply and he replied with a quote from a book that happens to be my favorite. He said, ‘There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall.’”
I laughed because I could hear him saying it. Custos was a willful child and anyone who opposed him was branded a tyrant. He even called me and Church tyrants from time to time. I tried to reason with him but Church was more pragmatic. He promised to subject our son to real tyranny unless he wised up. The battle of wills they had at the time had been epic, but it was typical teenager stuff. The battle Ancil was speaking of happened a few years prior to the one with Church.
He went on with the story. “I couldn’t believe he called me a tyrant for asking him to dry off a little before he came inside. It got my temper up. The funny thing was, I knew the quote and said it was inappropriate for him to use it. I said something like, ‘the great hero Liberandum said that when he was being tortured by General Malum for trying to free the enslaved Oppressis people. All you have to do is wrap a towel around your head and I’ll leave you alone.’ He was shocked that I knew the quote and wanted to know how I did.
“I explained that I loved the book and the series. It was a space adventure with travel to far away planets and encounters with different life forms and all that. Liberandum was a wandering hero who always poked his nose into desperate situations. The books were a lot of fun. They were also great for all age groups. Anyway, I think that made him see me as a real person instead of just an authority figure. He respected me a little more and stopped leaving a trail of water behind him when he came in from the pool.”
I connected another memory to the story. “Wait a minute, he used to call you ‘General Malum,’ didn’t he?”
He laughed. “He still calls me that! It started as his way of calling me a tyrant without using the word. I called him ‘Great Hero’ to get him back. Eventually, they both became our nicknames.”
I was happy to finally know how they discovered their mutual interest. “You started sharing the stories after that.”
He agreed. “It took a little while, but he would drop a quote here and there to see if I knew it. I have a good memory for stuff like that, so I usually did. I started to do the same thing back to him. Soon we were reenacting whole scenes. It was a ton of fun.”
I enjoyed the memory. “I remember walking in on the two of you in the middle of your scenes. You always let him play the hero and you would be the villain. That was kind of you.”
He smiled broadly. “He was a great kid. He’s a great man. He sends me every novel he publishes. I collect them. He asks my opinion on drafts. We actually talk a lot; at least a couple times a week. We catch up and gossip and talk about his work.”
“I didn’t know you and he were such good friends.”
“Oh, sure. We never stopped talking. All through college and his first jobs and all, he called me a lot of nights.”
I was surprised Custos didn’t tell me and said as much. Ancil suspected the reason. “You know how private he is. He wanted to keep me to himself. If you knew, he’d be sharing.”
I laughed. “And he hated to share.”
“Not so much anymore. He keeps trying to give me a collaborator’s credit for his books, but I refuse.”
“I guess he doesn’t mind sharing with you. Why do you refuse the credit?”
“Because he’s the author. I might give him an idea once in a while, but that doesn’t mean my name should be on the cover page.”
“You’re modest to a fault, Ancil. Think about accepting the next time he offers. Do it for him even if you won’t do it for yourself. I’m sure Cust would rather give you credit for the help rather than take credit for what wasn’t one-hundred-percent his work.”
He wouldn’t commit either way. “Maybe.”
“That was a nice trip down memory lane, but you still haven’t told me anything about you.”
Church came in from the balcony. “I need a workout. Shawn, how about you? If we’ve got a debate this afternoon, we better get our sweat in now.”
Ancil stood from his chair. “I’ll call for the car and arrange the security.”
“What about our talk?”
“Some other time, Master Shawn. The Boss needs to sweat.”
I relented and got up to get ready for the gym. Church filled me in on his conversation as we dressed. There was nothing much to report, just some personnel changes and digging through records. The best news was that the work was on schedule and I wouldn’t have to be in my father’s house for much longer.
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