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The Schuyler Fortune VI: A Throuple of Bums-10
A telephone call from the ranch came in to Liam's cell about 9 a.m. "We're under some kind of siege"...and the line went dead. A quick phone call to Teresa was made and she said she'd help.
She smiled to herself and muttered that while she was alive, nobody messed with her neighbors. She went to her computer quickly and accessed a web site she hadn't visited in a very long time. She had set it up years ago, a network of help for events like this. She typed in the address of Shady Acres and clicked on the send button.
In the neighborhood and across Oregon, fair-minded people of both genders got emails asking for help. The sheriff's department was notified, inundated actually, by email and fax that immediate help was needed for violence at Shady Acres.
Within a few minutes, the sheriff's helicopter was headed to that point and cars with deputies and weapons were converging. To assist, Teresa pulled another rabbit out of her bag.
Many months ago, she had hidden drones in a clearing in the forest behind her house, covered with a tarp, all plugged into their chargers. Each had a camera, some had small explosive devices. All had small computers networked to a server in her bedroom.
She typed in the Shady Acres address on another website, clicked on the "Do it" button and watching a live camera, she saw the tarp lifted off of the drones, the drone chargers disengage and eleven drones spring into the air flying off west and a little northward high into the air. Videos were coming in now and she saw men wearing masks were firing at the ranch house...
One drone peeled off at Teresa's click, descended rapidly and sat on the ground next to an intruder's pick-up next to the gas tank side. Teresa saw an explosion on the screen, then a massive explosion that left the pickup burning. Another pickup was destroyed in the same way.
A higher camera recorded men running to their remaining pickups to escape. Two more drones peeled off at Teresa's click and down from the group and through their rangefinders found tires. Those tires became targets of a single bullet and deflated. Many of the remaining vehicles were disabled, but not all of them.
Some of the men ran down the road in the direction from whence they had come. Within minutes the drones relayed the sound of sirens within a couple of miles and one drone transmitted the locations of the fleeing men to the sheriff's department live.
Since all of the license plates had been photographed by the drones, those images were identified at the Sheriff's office and the owners identified. Detain and arrest bulletins were issued for the owners.
Leo and Greg had both suffered injury from window glass shrapnel but not serious harm.
None of the ranch hands died. They had either been out working far away from the house or had worked away from windows, which seemed to be the target of most of the bullets. The electricity was still on; the attacking group had managed to shoot out the microwave disks. Ethan and Ryan had hit the floor when the first window shattered and gunfire sounded. They had lived in Portland and knew the sound.
News media helicopters headed for the area; Shady Acres for a news cycle became a national story. The governor directed that all available state help be given. The existence of domestic terrorists was known in every part of the country; their active projects weren't real common in Oregon and the governor wasn't going to tolerate homophobic violence in the state.
The beneficiary of the Schuyler Fortune, Joseph Schuyler, learned of the story when his secretary forwarded a message from his news clipping service to his computer. People didn't just happen by one day to do this shit...it had to be a group effort. Most groups were led in their common weakness by a leader and that leader, if charismatic enough, could lead them over a cliff. Right over a cliff.
Joseph knew he couldn't be the only person interested in the genesis of hate crimes, either from a law enforcement point of view or a sociologist/academic or a criminal justice/academic studying the problem.
He tried to think of the long arc of Schuyler tradition in dealing with societal issues and couldn't come up with much. The Schuyler fortune had been an inward-looking entity for a very long time. It was pay-back time, he felt.
Beginning with Frank Schuyler so many years ago, then Carol, his daughter and Michael, her son, then Eric, his adopted son then Joseph himself, Loren's son...the focus of the fortune was on preservation of itself and service to art.
Worthwhile stuff for sure...and yet a country of haters wasn't a stable country. In a world where stable countries were starting to look like the minority position compared to the vast number of unstable ones...the United States was and had been the very model of stable democracy, a republic run on democratic ideals and principles, a hybrid not matched elsewhere exactly.
He thought of the various generic ways of changing people's opinions. Some people trusted anyone who lightened their burdens. Some trusted anyone they perceived to be 'good people'. No one like or trusted others who put them down. Most people liked people who thought like they did or acted like they did, a 'club' mentality.
A thought crossed his mind and left it almost immediately. He tried to clarify the thought and remember it but couldn't quite re-phrase it in his head.
It was only when he was back reviewing the progress of his stocks over the last five years when the thought came back, struck hard and he never forgot it for the rest of his life. He underwent an epiphany, a change in his own thinking that changed the world.
If people were resistant to education about issues that they perceived to be important, they were rarely resistant to personal knowledge about those same issues.
An example was the dad who hated gays until his own son became one; more often than not, a parent confronted with the situation either hardened or softened that position. The point was that a change in their thinking sometimes occurred when their personal knowledge and experience changed.
The idea was a working cousin to the old saying about walking in someone else's shoes.
What if the sentence for these types of crimes involved spending time with the group they hated?
Would those offended against be open to that? Could it provide a whole new look at people and gender preference for the haters that might stop the vicious cycle that began: "I hate gays (substitute any group), I'll teach my kids, family, pupils, neighbors... to hate them too."
He was aware of the interest of the Schuyler family in this. Because of their fortune, their relative isolation from the average citizen with fences, limousines, security guards and helicopters and private jets, they didn't often deal with the average Joe or Emily.
They had not been isolated from life, however. Gender preference, thirst, hunger, breathing...all were human issues.
His adopted uncle and his father had preferred a man as a sexual partner.
He, himself, had looked at guys in the shower to compare cock size and muscles; it hadn't been a turn-on so far but then women had no effect on him. He had no desire to kiss, touch or, God forbid, mate with one. Had his uncle's preferences desensitized him or was he asexual or incipiently gay or?
Joseph decided he probably wouldn't figure that out in a day. The two questions he still pondered were: "would the perpetrators change their thinking?" and "would the victims permit the process?"
He decided the easiest way to find out about the latter was to ask. He called Liam and asked if he might fly out and spend a day or two on the 'Tom Gratz' conferencing with him. "Bring John and Mason with you if they can spare the time. The Schuyler trust is considering some issues regarding homophobic violence and would like your input."
Liam invited him to visit. "We'd love to have you visit, Joseph." How does your schedule look?"
"I can bring Raspberry out Friday and sail with you guys over the weekend if that's convenient."
"It's a done deal. We can pick you up or..."
"I'll arrange to get to the ship from the airport, Liam. That will make my security guys feel like they are working for their pay."
Liam gave him the address for the marina and told him they would be on board scrubbing the decks, so to speak, at noon. "Bring your sailor's uniform, although if the weather is warm and sunny the uniform of the day will be the birthday suit. Be sure to bring some good New York chocolate."
Joseph gave a little shiver at the thought of being naked on a ship. He knew that one tabloid picture of him would do more damage to the trust's work around the globe than he cared to think about. On the other hand, it would be interesting to know what his distant relatives found so appealing about men.
He had heard the stories about Michael and Uncle Eric...that they loved their partners as well as their partner's cocks and buns and balls. He himself hadn't loved anyone except for his parents and his brother, James.
That was platonic enough, heaven knew.
James and he had fought like brothers do but worked through it like brothers do and neither had been seized with any desire to touch the other that way.
His thoughts turned to the memory of Grandma Blossom. He barely remembered her but would have known her instantly from the pictures his dad and mom had around the house. He remembered that she had inherited grandma Carol's estate in Hillsboro on the side of Bald Peak and wondered who had it now.
He thought he might have visited it once when he was a kid but didn't have an independent memory of it. Joseph wanted to see it again as an adult and thought if the Schuyler helicopter could get out there on a lifter, that he might have better transportation than sitting in a car or limousine. The huge aircraft with the helicopter flew overnight the day before Joseph flew out.
Joseph took a briefcase full of work papers and his laptop with him on Raspberry from Teterboro. He greeted the pilots and was seated in his regular seat. The flight attendant smiled and welcomed him aboard. The chef handed him the menu for the day and introduced the entrees. The had switched from Cipriani to a gourmet private jet catering service and so far, it had been an OK switch.
The private service had better technology for freezing entrees, switched entrees more frequently and had cuisines available for a vast array of tastes from different countries.
Raspberry jumped to her task as usual with a light load and even against the jet stream made good time to PDX at 41,000 feet, an altitude where the twin jets were as efficient as they could be.
At landing a group of limousines waited on the tarmac as Raspberry drew up. He came down the stairs into sunny skies and 72 degrees Fahrenheit.
He saw the Schuyler helicopter parked a space or two over but entered his limousine and was driven to downtown Portland and then to the Marina in a motorcade with a hired off-duty Multnomah County Sheriff deputy's motorcycle leading the way.
Not a single car behind them, in front of them or going the other way opposite their route knew at whom they were looking.
Joseph, by nature, wasn't a vacation kind of guy. His free time didn't rescue him from any of the duties that he had inherited, and he had no family model for fun or relaxation.
Now in his late thirties, he had a gym body because he made time for it, not because he liked exercise.
He didn't assess himself in the mirror every day but had a general idea that he was like the guy next door, not superstar handsome but not ugly either. His skin was clear. He was 5' 10" and weighed 175 pounds. He thought losing ten pounds wouldn't hurt him. At least he hadn't developed the belly.
He didn't smoke or drink alcohol; had he done so his mother would have been involved right away. Her upbringing didn't include those particular vices. Her biggest vice was shoes and pampering his dad, Loren.
The motorcade stopped at the marina. Joseph and his security swarmed the steps and walked toward the elevator to the gangplank. Liam shook his hand and drew the hand and the guy attached to him in a brief hug.
"Joseph, you're here and safe. Welcome to the 'Tom Gratz'. I don't know if you've met John Baylor and Mason Surrey. John, Mason...this is Joseph Schuyler, my friend from New York."
"How do you do?" The men seemed friendly enough. Joseph told them he had heard about the incident at the ranch and had some ideas to discuss with them and a story to tell them.
"Great, we're all ears. Let's give you a minute to refresh and enjoy the tour and then we've Fresca floats to enjoy with snacks on the aft deck. We'll put our feet up and look forward to talking."
Liam pointed toward the back. Liam introduced Captain Merton and the crew lined up waiting to greet Joseph. The Captain welcomed him aboard on behalf of the crew, gave orders to make the security welcome in their quarters, gave them the run of the ship, "just don't start the engines or play with the brakes"; then he grinned at Joseph, "it's just like basic training all over again."
After the tour and a pee, Joseph stepped out on to the aft deck and surveyed the Portland skyline. Everything was so damn green.
One could see the entire city in a reasonable turn of the head; he saw OHSU up on the hill where his grandma Carol's memorial building was, the Neurological Institute named after her and felt really good inside; a little feeling of belonging came over him.
Joseph wasn't sure about a 'Fresca float'. Turns out that Fresca had to be refrigerated very cold first, not frozen. The gourmet vanilla ice cream had to be very cold and hard. One took a pre-cooled glass and put two scoops of ice cream in, then poured the Fresca to the top and waited perhaps 2-3 minutes.
One ate these with a long-handled spoon and a straw. The spoon scraped the grapefruit flavored ice from the surface of the ice cream and the straw was used at the end. At the end of his, Joseph was sure...that he liked Fresca floats.
After some fresh fruit kebabs and flat-bread crackers with Gouda cheese slivers, they settled down to the business at hand while Captain Merton and crew brought the ship out into the Willamette river and headed once again north to the Columbia where they cruised slowly north, turned and cruised back.
Joseph shared his thoughts about how change might happen.
"What, from your point of view, do you want done with these people in the long run? Will prison sentences solve it from your perspective?"
John said he thought there were only a finite number of options:
Mason said he didn't think anything would help solve it.
Liam wasn't so sure. "Jail sometimes radicalizes people even more. If education did it, why didn't the education they did have prevent the hate? If their church preached it, that would be pretty hard to fight." Big walls can't keep everybody out forever."
Joseph introduced a different idea. "What if a judge at sentencing tell the defendants they had to live with their victims at their own expense for two months and write a report on it? Would the victims allow them to mingle and learn that the victims weren't the monsters the haters once thought them to be?"
"On a case by case basis, perhaps yes," said John, "and the victim's consent after an hour private conference with the perp so the victim could be reasonably sure of his family's safety, perhaps...and with a safety officer close by...and a carrot and a big stick punishment for failure to complete the encounter safely."
Mason chimed in. "I think the visitor should work for pay, not just pal around. There's something redeeming for humans who feel like they accomplish something."
He colored up, suddenly realizing that Joseph had inherited his fortune, but then after considering it, felt better. He knew that Joseph worked hard for his family.
"I've been a bum recently enough to remember the feeling of not working...it tends to dehumanize."
By 7 p.m. there was a chill in the air and everyone was thinking of dinner. "No one dresses for dinner, Joseph. Liam blushed.
"What I meant to say is we dress, but we don't dress up. Jeans and a T-shirt, that casual." Bedtime massages start at 9 p.m. in your suite, Joseph.
I think Miguel and Pablo are double-teaming on your massage tonight. Make sure you have all of your security team in there...those guys are little massage terrorists. Just kidding."
Joseph didn't know what to think, but he was hungry and enjoyed the food at dinner.
By 9 he had his pajamas off. By 9:15 Miguel and Pablo had them off as well as every other thread he had on and were eyeing his fine frame and each other over it across his back. Joseph had a fine view of the floor from the face rest.
The oil they used was pre-warmed, so they poured it into their hands and on to his body before starting his neck and shoulder massage. The strokes spread to his back, then his lower back.
The towel they had placed over his ass was, at first, the stopping point for their combined strokes. They grinned at each other and began low back strokes that dipped under the towel a bit to include his upper gluteus maximus.
He didn't complain so Pablo lifted the towel up and tossed it on a chair.
Joseph by now was totally relaxed, now used to the touch of guys that he didn't know touching his skin. It just felt great. He wasn't excited, just relaxed. When they started a little lower on his rump, his mind went straight to defocus mode.
He started planning what he would do if they...and he couldn't say it or even think it. His mind now in turmoil and also feeling pretty good from the rippling massage strokes squeezing his ass on both sides, he decided not to think, just live and breathe.
He felt oil poured down the back of both legs and the massaging hands worked down to his feet. Each toe was massaged individually, and the bottom of his feet were massaged. It didn't tickle; the pressure felt great.
The two masseurs then worked their way back up his leg and they urged him to kneel for a moment on his hands and knees.
Slippery hands reached up between the inner side of his leg to his belly on both sides, just brushing his balls gently along the way, rubbing the inner thighs in the fold. He felt some sparks then.
Miguel and Pablo then began again on his ass, kneading, separating his buttocks, massaging the tissue under his balls coming up on each side of his ass-hole, then one of them briefly touched his ass-hole...
A certain clarity of thought bloomed in Joseph's mind.
That felt really, really good. He hesitated to beg for more of that but felt he could have. It was that good. When it happened a second time, he moaned and moved his ass up and down as if saying, 'oh yeah, do me guys'.
At that point, Pablo winked at Miguel and they smiled.
"OK, time to turn over."
Joseph started to turn over, realized his cock was really hard and erect, thought of saying he'd had enough and asking them to leave, but was way too far gone for that.
He turned with a slightly red face and neck, aroused and flushed. Warm oil was squirted...Joseph spelled the word to relax himself...it didn't work...on his chest and belly and cock and the front of his legs.
The guys rubbed all over, including a few accidental brushes against his still erect cock. Miguel was the first to cup his balls and gently massage them.
Pablo grasped his Joseph's cock after adding a little warm oil and added a few strokes. Then, suddenly, they stopped. Miguel spread warm oil over Pablo's chest and bell and erect cock then slapped him on the ass gently.
Pablo carefully climbed up on the table and laid himself down face to face with Joseph and began to slide up and down his body, skin to skin. His cock slid alongside Joseph's cock. Joseph couldn't remember feeling like this, so close to anyone, so absolutely fucking turned on.
He began to moan and whispered, 'don't stop'. Pablo gave him a minute, then climbed down. Joseph was crazy.
He was thinking he would die unless he got to come, then Miguel helped him turn over on his stomach. Pablo added warm oil to Miguel's whole front side including his cock.
He slapped Miguel gently on the ass and Miguel climbed on Joseph's back and began to move up and down. Miguel's cock found Joseph's crack and a couple of times it 'stuck' in Joseph's crack. In a few minutes, Joseph was very interested in just that.
He stuck his ass up to catch Miguel's cock as it slid by and got better at it and finally Miguel's cock, 'trapped', started to push against Joseph's entrance, Pablo applied more oil then, and soon the head of Miguel's cock slipped right on inside.
Miguel stopped to let Joseph's ass relax and then Joseph lifted again to encourage Miguel to move. Pablo wiped his cock clean and stood in front of Joseph, who, without much conscious thought, took it in his mouth and sucked on it and licked the parts that he knew he liked to touch when he played with himself.
Miguel increased the tempo and pressure and depth until Joseph was moaning again, 'don't stop, please, don't stop'...the sensation became unbearably good then a white-hot contraction with release of tension and an uncontrollable, unbearably pleasant, pumping of his cock, ejecting a big load of semen on the table...
Miguel gave a deep groan and came inside Joseph and at the same time Pablo shot in Joseph's mouth and it seemed like the natural thing to swallow this warm load, this gift, so he did.
Afterward they continued to massage his back and glutes to help him work his way down. 'Now turn over' someone said, and they help him sit up and get his bearings.
Pablo brought a warm, moist couple of towels and they began to wipe the oil and cum off. Joseph was like butter now, thoughts churning.
Pablo hugged him and was giggling.
"You took that like a champ. It was your first, no?"
"Now imagine a guy that you love, lying in bed beside you after a fuck, telling you that he loves you."
"That feels even better than the fuck itself and the two together is why gay guys stay that way. It might not be how they get to prefer men, but it's part of how two mates stay together for as long as they do."
"They come back to making each other feel good like only men can. You can forgive a lot of shit for a guy who will do that for you and be productive during the day looking forward to that night when it happens again, no?"
It was a revelation.
Joseph had figured out what he wanted, had decided that he was an adult and although he loved his parents dearly, it was now his life to live, not theirs.