To The Reader:
As you take your seat, I guess we need to have a small chic chat, this mini tale is going to introduce you to a very special friend whose name is Dr Leo Stanford, he lives for one thing and one thing only, gay sex, once the nerdy guy of tropes gone by, he has discovered the knowledge to become a stud and for a few lucky guys he will create proud muscle bound sluts ready for playtime. I suppose this person will befriend other characters in my upcoming stories, so here is his introduction. As previously mentioned, please comment if you liked it or have suggestions for changes.
Maxim
Update: I realise that I had submitted a draft of this chapter by mistake and have now changed to the finished version.
1
In the sweet stillness of the countryside, miles away from the hustle and bustle of the town, Dr Stanford’s house remained a testament to the opulence of yesteryear. The large mansion, preserved from the early 20th century, stood with its ivy-covered walls and its sweet-smelling lawn, brimming with vibrant flowers. It exuded a captivating charm, manifesting the whimsical imagination of its affluent but eccentric founder. Stanford was its current owner. With mad scientist-like flair, he brought it, and men entered with problems, leaving renewed.
The two repairmen speeding up their worn-out white truck interrupted the peace of the mansion, swerving to avoid a sharp rock that lay visible in the road. They were close to reaching Dr Stanford’s residence, and the heat from the summer sun had given them quite the test. The two men breathed a sigh of relief as they arrived at the mansion. “We’re here,” Eric, the lean beach boy, said to Jim, his boss who, despite his dad bod, still maintained his fitness. “Yes, it’s a simple route, but this heat doesn’t benefit the truck if it gets any hotter it’s going to break.” “Man, we’re almost there,” Eric said, sweeping a strand of hair off his forehead. “I never realised we would be up for so many jobs, Jim. I feel like we barely see each other outside of work,” remarked Eric as he admired the clear skies above. The sun spread across the vast expanse.
They walked with their tools to the front door, and a man in a t-shirt and jeans greeted them, his face showing no emotion. He clearly was a butler but one that was dressed for the weather. He asked, “Are you both the repairmen we called for?” Jim, being the boss, said straight away, “yes my name is Jim Tailor and this is my assistant Eric Wern.” Eric, being shy, just nodded his head in agreement. The man welcomed them inside, gesturing towards a bench. He spoke without emotion, “Dr Stanford will be here soon.” “Please take a seat.” Both men admired the unusual artwork on the walls. Eric couldn’t believe the beauty of the place, especially the artwork with names he recognised from school. He remarked, “Stanford must be a rich man. No one can afford this place, much less fill it with items.”
Jim observed his student’s eyes darting around and remarked, “Dr Stanford is an expert in physical health, and many men will pay for that. Maybe I should invest.” Eric remarked, “you still look good. I hope to improve my physique as well. Just need to balance my time better,” Jim laughed, remarking that his ex-wife Viv never cared much for working late nights or early mornings. Eric, late-night gigs, funded our family vacations. Besides, Viv and I ended our marriage on good terms; she’s with Simon, the chiropractor from Eastgate Street, the kids like him and he’s always polite to me. I worried if my job was an escape from commitment. It’s something we discussed at length. She enjoys her freedom, and I can’t blame her. Young and married, we were still finding ourselves and our aspirations. He shrugged, eyes set on the picture above the mantle.
The footsteps alerted them to the owner, who greeted them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Did you have a pleasant journey to my house?” Yes, it was Dr Leo Stanford. His mature good looks with his welcome voice made a significant difference to the robotic staff member they had just spoken to. The eccentric scientist led them through the mansion, showing off its magnificent interiors and his unique collections. “We’re excited to work with you, Dr Stanford,” Eric admitted as they admired yet another unusual artwork in the mansion. Jim cast Eric a reassuring smile as he explained. Excuse my assistant, Dr Stanford. This marks his initial significant job with me, and his talkativeness stems from nerves. Stanford smiled at the young man and added, “Your flattery is delightful, Eric. I hope you enjoy working at my home.” As they proceeded through the mansion, Eric couldn’t help but steal private glances at its occupant. Dr Stanford, with his grey hair, green eyes, and muscular physique, exuded a peculiar charm that left Eric feeling unnerved. Yet, he couldn’t deny that curiosity piqued. “Now if there’s anything else on this floor that needs repairs or updates, please let me know,” Dr Stanford offered as he led them past the grand staircase. “And explore the house during your stay.” Jim and Eric exchanged a puzzled glance, but decided not to press the issue for now. Dr Stanford retreated to his study to monitor their progress, occasionally checking on them, hiding behind the shadows of the hallway.
The two men began their work, fixing and replacing broken appliances, floorboards, and updating wiring. As the pair continued to work, they spoke about their lives, joking and laughing, completely unaware of Dr Stanford’s furtive glances. They exchanged stories of failed relationships, shared tales of their childhoods, and even reminisced about their favourite dishes. The Doctor observed this from his study with the camera monitor. Attracted to both men, he now sought enjoyment. At the mansion’s highest point, he activated a machine in the Stargazing room. The device hummed to life, a faint green laser glowing from its centre. With a maniacal grin, he pointed it towards the driveway, where the repairmen’s truck sat. “This ought to do the trick,” he muttered to himself, pulling the trigger. A bolt of green light shot out from the machine, streaking through the darkness like a spectral arrow. Eric and Jim, focused on their task, didn’t notice the laser as it hit the truck outside. The energy tore through the engine block, reducing it to a pile of scrap metal and wiring.
An hour later, as the doctor observed his watch, he expected the men’s work to be nearing completion, but he knew they wouldn’t depart soon. As to avoid suspension, he played the perfect host. He approached them with a curious smile, eyes gleaming with a secret only he knew. “How’s the progress, Jim? Eric?” he asked, glancing at the finished job. “Making any headway?” “Oh, yes, Dr Stanford,” Jim replied, wiping the sweat off his brow. “We’re almost done here. A little more elbow grease and we’ll be gone.” “Perfect,” Stanford commented. “I’m glad to see you both working so hard.” “Would you like a drink, gentlemen?” Dr Stanford asked as the men took a much-needed break from their labour. “A cold one sounds great,” Jim replied, mopping his brow with a rag. “I’ll have the same,” Eric concurred. “Alright,” Stanford said, smiling knowingly, disappearing. While the men awaited their refreshments, Eric leaned against the wall, catching his breath.
“Jim, what do you think Dr Stanford’s up to?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “I don’t know, Eric. But he seems like a peculiar fellow. There’s something odd about him.” Stanford arrived with a tray of drinks. He had learned charm from the best. He ensured the men were at ease. As the three men clinked glasses, Jim and Eric couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. There was something strange about Dr Stanford, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on. They tried to shake off the feeling as they sipped, enjoying the crisp taste as it washed over their tongues.
The tension in the air dissipated a little, but Eric couldn’t help but glance at Dr Stanford now and then, his gaze lingering on the man’s muscular form.. An hour later, the men finished their work, and Dr Stanford offered them a tour of the mansion. Jim and Eric shared a look, curious about what they might find inside. “That sounds great,” Jim said, taking another swig of his drink. “Lead the way.” Dr Stanford’s eyes shone with excitement as he guided them through the mansion’s winding corridors and up the grand staircase. The staircase resembled a forest, with flower-like Tiffany lamps and wallpaper adorned with little animals that seemed to watch them as they ascended. They passed by room after room, each one filled with peculiar paintings and strange items that neither man could quite identify. The previous owner of this house had unlimited wealth, while the blue-collar workers struggled to hold on to their money.
