Prologue
Prologue
“This is Mr. Thomson, Jackie, the friend I’ve been seeing. You will treat him with respect... in every way.”
Becky’s words are forthright and sternly condescending, as if addressing an unruly child. And indeed the form greeting us at the door appears youthful... youthful to the point that had I not been forewarned I’d be scampering away... perhaps calling the police.
I’ve been apprehensive concerning this moment, despite knowing for a while that it had to come... if I were to deepen my relationship with the lovely Becky.
Stepbrother Jackie smiles wanly, stepping back to further open the front door in symbolic concurrence, then lowering his head and doing this quaint dip, right foot drawing back, left knee momentarily bending... respect in every way.
As I nod a quiet hello, Becky smiles in satisfaction, steps inward and grasps the door handle. With the circumstances, I know to join her inside, suitcase in hand and allow her to hastily close the door.
“Bit of chill,” ostensibly explaining the quick timing.
But I know the rapid movement to veil from neighbors and passers by the bizarre greeting.
Becky removes her coat, handing her garb to stepbrother Jackie, arms extended, standing in wait as would a servant. I gaze, assessing, mind addled despite the expectations.
Jackie is nude, his only covering slim bands of baby blue nylon at the wrists, ankles and neck. There is also a mass of steel at the pubes, covering his p***s, a locking ring of steel mashing his entrapped scrotal sac, the bright pink flesh suggesting the circulation somewhat impeded with the tightness. The uncovered form is lithe, the slimness of a pubescent girl, and hairless... the unblemished skin again the presentation that of a girl. With light brown hair tightly drawn back in a ponytail, the gender obfuscation is absolute.
“We’ll have drinks, Jackie... Cognac... in the upstairs drawing room. Take Mr. Thomson’s suitcase. And perhaps I’ll have you put on a stand for him. Would you like that?”
I place down the suitcase. As I hand over my coat I see that the notion brings to Jackie an initial smile... followed by a look of distress. And I understand why.
“Though the curtains are on the heavy side, we still... ah... take precautions... over the years.”
As Becky leads to the stairs, I cannot help having thoughts about this encounter...
