Chivalry Is On Life Support Ch 11

The next day, Luke returned with two of his employees to continue working on the bathroom in the basement. One of them was probably about five years older than him. The other, a teenager, looked like a younger version of Luke, nearly as tall with similar facial features. Even a similar haircut.

I was working on my book at my desk in the living room when the door bell rang, so Brooke opened the door. Getting ready to go work out at the gym, she was wearing yoga pants and a Lycra workout top, her sexy midriff bare.

"Hey, baby. You're looking hot," Luke said. He proprietarilly put his large hand on her bottom and drew her to him, kissing her on the lips. As if I wasn't even in the room.

"You remember Kevin, babe. You can see that he's grown up a lot the last couple of years."

"Hey, Brooke," said the teenager.

Brooke replied, "Hey, Kevin. I barely recognized you. You've really filled out since I last saw you."

"Yeah, I've been lifting weights with Luke a lot."

"I can tell. You might end up being even taller than your brother. So, he's got you working in the business now?"

"Damn right. Kevin's a star," interjected Luke. "He's officially apprenticing under Joey here, but he's gonna get his master plumber's license next year when he turns 18. He'll be running one of my branches by the time he's 20, I bet."

Kevin said, "That's right. And then Joey is going to be working for me rather than the other way around." It was apparent that Kevin shared some of the cockiness and arrogance of his older brother, in addition to his good looks.

Joey laughed and said, "Well, we're not there yet, kid. Let's go downstairs and get to work."

Kevin and Joey smirked at me as they headed towards the basement stairs. I learned that evening from Brooke that Kevin is, in fact, Luke's half brother, 10 years his junior, the product of Luke's mom's second marriage. Little could I have predicted at the time I met Kevin that within a year I would be working directly under him as a plumber's assistant and his all-purpose lackey.

Luke said to them, "I'll be down in a few minutes." He then turned to me and said, "Prof, I'll cash in that rain check for dinner tomorrow night. Brooke knows what I like to eat. Meanwhile, there's some stuff in the backseat of my pickup truck. While I'm downstairs working on your bathroom, you can bring it inside for me."

I looked up at him and also looked over at Brooke, who nodded to me almost imperceptibly, before I replied, "Okay, Luke."

Looking at me intently, he responded, "I liked how you addressed me the first time you met me yesterday better than I do you calling me Luke. Do you remember what that was, prof?"

"Sir?", I replied, uncertainly.

"That's right. Instead of saying, 'Okay, Luke', why don't you try saying 'Yes sir', when I tell you to do something."

I looked again at Brooke, who was covering a smile on her face with her hand. Her dimpled smile is always radiant to me, but somewhat less so when she's smiling at my expense.

"Yes, sir." I felt my face burn in humiliation.

"That's better," Luke replied, grinning, as he headed off to the basement.

When I was confident that they were out of earshot, I asked Brooke, "Do I really have to call him 'sir'?"

"That's what he said, didn't he? Look, I told you Luke's a very dominant guy. When he's around, he's going to be in charge. Of you and of me. But of me, mostly in the bedroom. Of you, pretty much everywhere, I'm guessing. He's sort of like an alpha dog marking his territory. It's really about that simple with Luke. So you better get used to it, Walter. If you resist, he's going to make things incredibly unpleasant for you."

"I have a feeling he's going to make things incredibly unpleasant for me whether I resist or not."

"You're probably right. But it's going to be a whole nother level of unpleasant if you resist. You might think he'd respect you for standing up for yourself. But what he's really going to want to do is break you completely, so there's no confusion whatsoever about who the alpha dog is."

In our driveway was an enormous, four-door Ford pickup truck (I later learned the model was a Ford F-150 Lightening Platinum and that it costs more than I make in a year). The back door was unlocked and on the seat were two heavy black suitcases that I lugged into the house. Great, I thought to myself, this guy is moving into my house. Brooke, meanwhile, left for the gym.

I was very anxious about being left alone in the house with Luke and the two others. After about an hour, Luke came up stairs and said to me, "Do you have sweet tea?"

"No, only unsweetened."

"Try again, prof."

"No, sir. Only unsweetened."

"That's it, you learn quick. From now on, I expect there always to be at least two large bottles of sweet tea in the fridge."

"Yes, sir."

"And always have on a hand a full bottle of Gentlemen Jack. Not Old No. 7. You got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now bring a pitcher of ice water and three glasses down to the basement."

"Yes, sir"

I was annoyed, because I was making real progress on a chapter I was writing about Barbara Palmer, aka 1st Dutchess of Cleveland, Countess of Castlemaine, the most notorious mistress of King Charles II and a truly fascinating figure. Less than a year after marrying her husband, Roger, Barbara began her affair with Charles II, still in exile at the time, following his defeat by Oliver Cromwell. After Charles II returned to the throne, he fathered multiple children with Barbara, a woman known for her beauty, flirtatiousness, fierce temper and sexual promiscuity. Together, they turned Roger into "the most famous cuckold in Europe." Although Charles granted him the Earl of Limerick title (as compensation for openly sleeping with his wife), apparently Roger was so humiliated that he wouldn't even serve in Parliament and eventually left the country. Charles II's favorite court dance was "Cuckolds All A Row," which must have further humiliated Roger. For her part, Barbara had so bewitched Charles ll that she had him publicly begging her on his knees at one point, and got herself appointed to the powerful position of Lady of the Bedchamber to the actual queen, Catherine of Branganza. In that capacity, she taunted the mild mannered Catherine, who was unable to bear children, rubbing her relationship with Charles in Catherine's face. So Catherine was both Queen and humiliated cuckquean. Below are two of the many famous portraits of this famous cuckoldress:

After I served the three of them water, I decided to walk into town to buy sweet tea (I loved unsweetened iced tea but had always found sweet tea cloying) and a few other things we needed. When I got back, I found Luke sitting at my desk reading my notebook (I know it's somewhat old fashioned, but I still like to put pen to paper when writing, and then later type my notes).

I was incredibly annoyed at this invasion of my privacy, but tried my best to suppress it. "Can I help you, sir?"

"This is some crazy shit. What are you, a professor of cuckold studies or something?"

"I'm a literature professor, sir. And history."

"Students actually pay good money to learn this crap? Incredible. I always said college was complete bullshit. This proves it."

"I'm working on a new book, sir."

"About cuckolding and humiliation?" He snickered contemptuously, seemingly incredulous.

"Sort of, sir, but more than just that."

"Well, you're in luck. You don't need to read about Charles II and Roger whatever his name is. I'm going to teach you all about it. Practical knowledge is always better than learning shit in books, don't you agree, prof?"

I didn't, of course. But I replied, "Yes, sir."