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Internal Divisions 8 (mm)
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The following story is a work of fiction about events which have
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_Internal Division_
By Mitchell Knight
Part 8
In his mailbox on Tuesday, Mitchell received a small white
envelope with his name carefully inscribed in calligraphy on the outside.
He opened it on the way back to his room and found inside a formal
invitation to dinner from Jack Maroe. The date read that Wednesday night
at 7pm. The place: the dean's house.
Underneath the fancy script was a few handwritten words in the
familiar writing Mitchell had seen on the letter he had received over the
summer. It merely read "Hope school is going well."
Mitchell dressed semi formally in dress pants and a light cotton
shirt. He thought that way he could ride either extreme: relaxed and
formal, and not look too out of place. He found when he arrived that he
had dressed appropriately. Dean Maroe was wearing a dark cardigan sweater
with dress pants.
"Welcome, Mitchell Knight," he greeted, with a warm genial smile.
"Hi," Mitchell answered, stepping inside.
"Come, have a seat," he offered, sweeping his arm in the direction
of the study.
Mitchell headed that way, trying to calm his slight anxiety over
being in the presence of the dean of his college. Jack's friendly manner
and superb hosting skills helped. Mitchell sat down.
"Would you care for something to drink?" he asked, going to the
bar. "Perhaps a soda?"
"That's fine," Mitchell answered.
Jack poured soda into glasses for himself and his guest before
returning to the sofa where Mitchell sat. He took a seat across from
Mitchell in a leather covered armchair.
"How is school going?" he asked.
"Great," Mitchell answered.
"That's good to hear. Tell me what your major is, and what classes
you're taking."
Mitchell went ahead and answered his questions, and they talked
for a while about what Mitchell thought of the college, and whether he had
any suggestions for improvements. Jack also asked him whether there was
anything he could do to help Mitchell in any way to which Mitchell
answered "no."
By that time, Jack's manservant had entered the room to inform
them that dinner was ready. They moved into the dining room where they
were served and started to eat.
"So tell me a little bit about your personal life," Jack said.
"How many members are in your family, that kind of thing."
"I'm an only child. My mom decided that one was enough, and my dad
agreed with her. He was trying to go with the 'exceptional child'
theory," Mitchell said.
"What theory is that?" Jack asked, with a little curious grin.
"I'm afraid I've never heard about that."
"Oh, something my dad heard about. Apparently exceptional
children, or child geniuses are those who are only children or have
siblings at least 5 years apart."
"That's very interesting. I'd never heard that before. You
certainly seem to prove that theory correct though," Jack complimented.
"Thank you," Mitchell said, blushing slightly.
"And how is your love life?" Jack inquired casually. "Do you have a
boyfriend?"
Mitchell choked on his milk and ended up spitting some of it back
into his glass.
"Are you all right?" Jack asked, leaning over and placing a hand
gently on Mitchell's back.
Mitchell, in the midst of his coughing fit, nodded.
"Yeah, I'm okay," he said, finally.
"I'm sorry. I didn't intend for that question to be so shocking.
You are gay, aren't you?"
Mitchell nodded.
"Good. I was worried I had made a mistake."
"No, no mistake. And no, I don't have a boyfriend."
Jack made a mental note of that. Apparently Rich's information
source was incorrect about the link between Mitchell and Gregg.
"Mitchell, I think that you will find that I have tried to create
an environment here at Marcourt that is especially inviting and accepting
of people with sexual orientations that don't fit into the majority," Jack
explained.
"Yes, I have found that out," Mitchell admitted.
"Good. I work very hard at finding people who will feel at home
here. My goal for this college is to be a place for people to live,
learn, grow, and feel safe in. We don't need the harsh, judgemental eyes
of society peeking in here and destroying an individual's fragile self
esteem," Jack said. He abruptly cut himself off then, and chuckled
lightly. "Forgive me, Mitchell. Occasionally I find myself stepping up
onto my soap box."
"No, that's okay. I totally agree with you. I just wish there was
a way for us to stop so much of the ignorance and hate that goes on in
society as a whole," Mitchell said.
"Oh, there are ways, Mitchell. Trust me, there are ways."
"Like how?"
"We'll talk about that later. For now, let's talk about more
pleasant things and finish our dinner."
The topic turned to Jack and he told Mitchell some things about
his past about how he'd graduated from college with a liberal arts major
and then gone on to marry a woman he didn't love to hide his sexual
orientation. Later on he'd divorced her once he's felt confident enough
to be true to himself and what he needed. Then he'd gone on to work in
several gay activist organizations before he moved into the higher
education circuit to eventually end up at Thomas Marcourt as the dean.
After finishing their dinner, they moved down to the billiards
room to play a couple games. Jack won both times since Mitchell didn't
have much practice at the sport. Then Jack left Mitchell to roam freely
in his library while he left to make some phone calls.
When Jack returned, he found Mitchell seated and flipping casually
through one of the novels.
"What have you got there?" Jack asked.
"Dante," Mitchell answered.
Jack nodded and took a seat next to Mitchell on the couch.
Mitchell became uncomfortably aware of how close Jack was sitting to him.
"Ahh, yes, that's quite good. You may take it when you leave if
you wish," Jack offered.
"Okay."
Jack reached out with his hand and lightly brushed his hand down
Mitchell's cheek. Mitchell flinched slightly at the touch, but remained
seated. Jack leaned in and gently kissed the flesh his hand had just
caressed. Mitchell shot to his feet.
"Um...I better leave. It's getting late," Mitchell said.
"But we haven't had that talk I promised," Jack protested.
"Maybe some other time," Mitchell said, moving towards the door.
Jack nodded his head slowly and with remorse. "Some other time."
He got up and showed Mitchell to the door.
"You refused him?" Rich exclaimed the next day, cornering Mitchell
as he started to leave the cafeteria at lunch.
"What are you talking about?" Mitchell asked.
"You refused Dean Maroe last night," Rich answered.
"What do you know about that?" Mitchell asked, indignant that
somehow information about his supposed private dinner with Jack had gotten
out, especially to someone like Richard Lord III.
"He offered you everything, and you brushed him off," Rich
whispered forcefully into Mitchell's ear.
Mitchell pulled back and started walking out of the room and away
from Rich and Paul, who was tagging along silently thus far. Rich
followed him out and then grabbed him by the arm and threw him up against
the wall.
"I don't like people who treat Mr. Maroe without respect or thanks.
How could you pass this up?" Rich asked, shoving his flushed, broad face
into Mitchell's space.
Mitchell felt his arms suddenly move on their own, coming up to
slide along Rich's back. Then he regained control and hastily pulled his
arms back. Rich let him go, his face returning to its normal color.
"Think about it," he said and then walked away with Paul.
Mitchell stood there, breathing heavily before he hurried off to
Gregg's room. He knocked and heard Gregg invite him in.
"Mitch," Gregg said, startled to see him. He hadn't spoken to
Gregg since their fight the other day.
"Hi, Gregg, can I talk to you?"
He nodded and offered Mitchell a seat.
"I just ran into Rich and Paul, and I was wondering if you knew
what was going on," Mitchell said.
"With what?"
"I went and saw the dean last night, and Rich seemed really upset
because I hadn't done what I was supposed to. I'm kind of curious as to
how he found out, and just in general what the hell is going on."
Gregg nodded deeply. "Did Jack come on to you?"
"Yes."
"But you didn't sleep with him?"
"No. It just felt really weird to have this old guy want me,"
Mitchell answered.
"He wants you for more than sex, Mitch."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't tell you. You're going to have to go see him and ask him
that yourself.
"As far as how Rich knew about what happened, well, he and Jack
Maroe have a close relationship. They tell each other a lot you'd be
surprised about."
"Why won't you tell me anything else?" Mitchell asked, confused.
"I can't. Just go talk to Jack."
"You're in with them, aren't you?"
Gregg nodded.
Mitchell frowned and got up and started to leave.
"Wait, Mitch," Gregg pleaded.
"What?"
"Can we talk about us?"
Mitchell shook his head. "I need to find out what's going on
before I can think about us."
Gregg nodded.
Jack seemed pleased to hear from Mitchell again and eagerly
offered to have him come over for coffee later that night. Mitchell
agreed. When he arrived that night, they went to the library to drink
their coffee among the treasure trove of novels.
"I think there are some things you need to tell me," Mitchell said.
Jack nodded. "Perhaps. But before I answer your questions, I
need to know if you plan to join us."
"Join you in what?"
"Securing equal rights and equal treatment for homosexuals," Jack
answered.
Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "Of course I'll help with that."
"Good. Then are you ready to accept the power that I offer?" Jack
asked.
"What power?" Mitchell asked.
Jack smiled. "You've felt it to a limited extent so far with the
things that Rich and Paul have done to you. That's the kind of power I
can give you as well."
"What is it? Some kind of ESP or something?"
"Something like that."
"What do you guys use it for?"
"Exactly what I told you. It's used to help fight the injustices
against gays."
"How?"
"I think it would be better if you came with us on our next trip.
You can see firsthand what takes place."
"Okay."
"Do you want the power?"
Mitchell considered this. He realized that he would be a fool to
refuse such a generous gift especially when he knew he could use it to
help with a cause he believed in. Although still confused by its specific
application, Mitchell answered:
"Yes."
"Follow me," Jack said.
Mitchell followed him upstairs and into the bedroom.
"What are we doing here?" Mitchell asked.
Jack shut the door and dimmed the lights. He moved over to where
Mitchell stood in the center of the room. He placed a finger against
Mitchell's lips.
"Now is not the time for words. I will give you what you want,
just relax."
Jack's hands moved down to Mitchell's waist where he gently
untucked his shirt. He slowly lifted it up over Mitchell's smooth stomach
and chest. Mitchell lifted his arms to allow Jack to pull the shirt
completely off.
Then Jack unbuttoned Mitchell's pants and unzipped them. He
slowly pushed these down until they fell on their own to Mitchell's
ankles. Jack pushed Mitchell back to sit on the bed before he removed
Mitchell's shoes and socks and then pulled off his pants. Jack gently
kissed each of Mitchell's toes.
Jack stripped off all of his clothes, and as he removed his
undershorts, his penis began to lengthen. Mitchell reached out and gently
stroked the round little shaft. Jack hooked his fingers in the waistband
of Mitchell's undershorts and slid them off.
Joining Mitchell on the bed, Jack ran his hands up and down the
length of Mitchell's torso as he slowly rained kisses down on Mitchell's
lips. His hand traveled down farther and brushed over Mitchell's pubic
bush before his fingers circled the shaft of Mitchell's erection.
"A trade," Jack whispered in Mitchell's ear just before his tongue
darted in and licked.
Then he started to kiss his way down Mitchell's smooth flesh until
he knelt between Mitchell's thighs. His hands slowly stroked the lightly
furred thighs while his mouth dove in on Mitchell's erection. His mouth
moved slowly up and down the length, slicking it up with a good amount of
spittle.
His finger ran along the side of his erection as Jack continued to
bob slowly up and down. Then he moved his finger past Mitchell's scrotum
to the hole laying against the sheets. He slowly inserted this and
removed his mouth to murmur:
"Semen for semen."
Then he returned to Mitchell's penis and increased his speed as
his finger slid in and out of his anus. Mitchell pumped his hips in time
with Jack's head and he thrust his ass forward, impaling himself further
on Jack's finger.
Jack slid another finger into Mitchell's ass and sped up even
more. Mitchell moaned softly as his breathing sped up and heart rate
increased. Jack's fingers and mouth went faster, and soon Mitchell felt
himself plunge over the edge. Jack felt the first contraction of
Mitchell's anus as the orgasm erupted, and he shoved his fingers all the
way in as Mitchell pumped his semen into Jack's mouth.
Once Mitchell lay back, exhausted, against the silk sheets, Jack
got up and went to the bathroom to retrieve his lubricant. He came back
with it and Mitchell realized what came next. Looking at Jack's stubby
penis, Mitchell knew he could easily accommodate it if he could take
Gregg's.
Mitchell started to roll over as Jack approached the bed, but Jack
shook his head.
"No, stay on your back," he ordered.
Jack climbed onto the bed between Mitchell's thighs and squirted
some lubricant onto his fingers. Then he rubbed it along the length of
his shaft before he rubbed some into Mitchell's anus. Then he lifted
Mitchell's legs and lined up his cock with Mitchell's exposed hole. He
slowly pushed forward until he was firmly embedded.
Then Jack lay down, pressing his naked body down onto Mitchell's.
He looked deeply into Mitchell's eyes as he began to thrust in and out of
Mitchell's anus.
"Do you want it?" Jack asked, still thrusting.
"Yes," Mitchell answered.
Jack placed his mouth over Mitchell's in a deep kiss as he sped
up. He thrust faster and faster into Mitchell as he felt his orgasm approach.
When Jack came, he felt a tremendous release and great pleasure. Mitchell
could tell that Jack had come by the tensing of his muscles. He didn't
feel the first shot of semen enter his body in any conventional way.
Instead he felt a fire catch hold of his spine and race up his spinal cord
to erupt in his brain.
Spurt after spurt entered him, each one bringing the similar
sensation of fire sweeping up his back and exploding in his mind. Once he
was finished, Jack pulled out and then hugged Mitchell to him as Mitchell
felt something open in his mind. Just before he passed out, Mitchell
sensed new things about Jack that he had never been able to sense before...
End Part 8
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