Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/8741/jmgarden.htm

Disclaimer: Alliance owns these boys, but I get to use the whip on 'em now and again. The finest red leather cat o'nine tails. Really.

Author's Notes: Warnings: Very kinky weirdness. Actually, more weirdness than kinkiness (very mild BDSM), but if neither is your cuppa, walk on by.
This is in answer to the Challenge I posted to DSAD: an unusual/twisted interpretation of Thanksgiving. I got the idea Thanksgiving night. I blame it on too much turkey.
I ask you, have I gone off the deep end this time? :)

Story Notes: Pairing: Benny/Ray V.
Categories: Challenge, Humor, Holiday.
Rating: NC-17.
(c) November 27, 2001

I
DRUMSTICKS 'N' STUFFING

(WITH A LITTLE DASH OF OREGANO)

Ray awoke, momentarily disoriented, then he smelled the divine smells wafting up from his mother's kitchen. With a smile he rolled over to poke Benny awake, frowning when he saw the empty space beside him. Oh, well. Benny was an early riser. Probably already up, showered, dressed and helping Ma with the turkey.

Ray hurried out of bed and into the bathroom before his sisters got in, and was showered and shaved in record time. He dressed and went downstairs, eager to see his Mountie and help out with dinner preparations.

The television was on, his nieces and nephews watching the Macy's Parade, and he was about to head for the kitchen when a suave, urbane voice said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Vecchio."

Ray frowned. He saw an elegantly-dressed gentleman standing by the closed doors of the dining room. He was clad in a black Armani suit, his dark hair neatly combed, and he exuded a pleasant aftershave smell. Benny could probably tell Ray exactly what the chemical composition was of the aftershave. Swarthy good looks piqued his interest.

"Who are you?"

"Just someone to cater to your...to your family's every need for the holiday."

"Oh." Ray was puzzled. His mother had hired a caterer? That didn't sound like her. Shrugging, he was about to go toward the kitchen again with the rich voice said, "Mr. Vecchio, I would like to give you a preview of dinner."

"Oh. Okay."

The man pulled back the louvred doors and revealed the dining room. Ray's emerald eyes grew big as he saw...

"Benny!"

On the table, flat on his back and set on an enormous white bone china platter, was Benny. A naked Benny. A naked Benny with his arms pulled over his head and wrists tightly bound with red silk manacles. His legs had been parted to give Ray an excellent view of his inner thighs, among other treasures, and his ankles were bound with another set of manacles. Astounded, Ray slowly walked into the dining room. The black-suited Gentleman quietly closed the doors behind them.

"He has been well-prepared, sir. I must admit that this particular speciman is all white meat. No dark to speak of, but moist and tender. I'm sure he will be to your culinary satisfaction." The man crossed over and took out a long, thin tube from his jacket pocket. He carefully inserted the tube into Benny's right thigh, the Mountie twitching, a soft groan escaping from him. The Gentleman removed the tube and checked it. "Done," he said with a smile of satisfaction.

Ray was now by the table, gazing down at his Mountie.

Benny's skin glistened with what Ray surmised was oil, the chandelier's light allowing a close inspection of the purity of the flesh. Benny's sapphire eyes were big, tracking Ray as he walked closer.

"Benny, what have you got to say for yourself? Oh." Ray noticed the huge, red apple wedged into the Mountie's mouth. He gulped.

"Excellent cut of Mountie meat, sir," said the silken voice at his ear.

Ray whirled. "What's he doin' trussed up like a Thanksgiving..?"

"Exactly," smiled the Gentleman.

Ray turned his head back to his trussed-up Mountie. He felt his mouth watering.

"Are you a breast or leg man, sir?"

"Both."

A hint of amusement entered the man's voice. "Understandable. Why don't you try the breast meat first? I dressed him myself. Pardon me, undressed him."

Ray's lips hovered over Benny's chest, and then they descended. He let out a little purr of satisfaction, then lifted his head. "What's that taste?"

"It's the oil, sir. Scented with oregano. Very Italian, though of course this is Canadian meat. I couldn't very well use extra virgin olive oil, now could I?"

Ray blinked. "No." He returned to tasting his Mountie. Yes, he could taste Benny through the oregano, but the oil was a pleasant addition. His tongue ran along the warm flesh. Oven-roasted? He could feel Benny's body quiver.

His tongue brushed against a nipple. A soft groan was torn from his Mountie. Pleased, Ray began to suck, the body on the platter shifting. Benny's eyes closed and his cock twitched.

Ray delighted in the taste of Benny. He transferred his attentions to the other nipple, Benny's hips wiggling. Maybe he was a bit of rabbit, too. He sure had one fine cottontail.

"I'm glad that you are enjoying the breast, sir."

"Oh, yeah. Tip-top." He plucked an almond out of Benny's navel and ate it. He was going to enjoy sampling all of Benny's nuts before this was over.

"Would you like to try a drumstick now, sir?"

Ray's mouth watered again as he contemplated the firm thigh presented for his pleasure. Hunger pangs shot through him and he suddenly buried his face in that thigh. Mmm, tender and succulent. Just the way he liked his crisp Mountie.

Benny moaned around the apple in his mouth and spread his thighs a little wider. Ray began to nip and suck the warm meat, the oregano flavor mixing well with Benny flavor. The smell of aroused Mountie tickled Ray's nostrils, the heady musk a delicious entree for a ravenous Italian.

Ray's long fingers clutched Benny's firm thigh, digging into the flesh as he suckled and feasted. His Mountie bucked and moaned, helpless and needy.

Ray fed on his yummy Mountie, finally coming up for air. The dark-haired Gentleman was smiling.

"You are pleased, sir?"

"Oh, yeah." Ray licked his lips. "Quite tasty."

The Gentleman laughed. He looked faintly Italian, Ray thought, and he idly stroked Benny's inner thigh as he still held it.

"Now, sir, time for stuffing."

"Stuffing?" Ray looked around at the empty table. "I don't see any.."

The Gentleman walked around Ray and grabbed Benny's bound ankles. He deftly unwound the bindings and bent Benny's legs back. "Hmm, let's see. Perhaps I should tuck the thighs beside the head." Long fingers carded through Benny's hair, then a clove of oregano appeared and he crushed it, sprinkling it in the soft chestnut waves. "No, I'll just bring the arms forward so...and bend the legs a little more...now tie the ankles together and tie them to the bound wrists so...voila!"

Ray watched as his Mountie was expertly trussed, the smooth globes of Benny's buttocks presented to him. The Gentleman gently patted one cheek.

"Now, Mr. Vecchio, it's time for the stuffing." The man smiled. "I think Italian sausage will do here, don't you?"

Ray felt the skittering in his groin explode. He began to shake with desire as he feasted his eyes on Benny's succulent ass. Such delicious meat...

"You need some oiling, sir." The Gentleman guided Ray with a gentle hand to the head of the table. "Simply free yourself and climb up on the table." The servant plucked the apple out of Benny's mouth. "Allow yourself to be prepared."

Ray felt as if he were watching someone else as he unzipped his pants, pushed down the material, and freed his cock. He climbed up on the table and set his legs on either side of Benny's head, seeing the blue eyes gazing at him, then focusing on the bobbing cock just above his face. Benny's lips were as red as the apple and just as sweet. He lowered himself with a grunt to fill Benny's mouth. The Mountie used his jaws to suck, his eyes closing as he concentrated on getting his own taste of meat.

Ray pumped up and down, up and down, and then the Gentleman's hand was on his arm. "Enough, sir. You're ready."

Ray looked down at the intoxicating sight of his cock buried in Benny's mouth and nearly came right then. He pulled himself out and scrambled down from the table, going to the other end and climbing up to kneel at the ass so vulnerable to him.

"Time to stuff the Mountie, sir."

Ray pulled apart the pale cheeks and eased his swollen cock between them. Benny groaned, the sound cut off by the apple jammed back into his mouth by the silk-tongued gentleman. His body moved as Ray began his pumping motion again, this time burying his cock in Benny's ass instead of his mouth. It was a warm, wet, moist cavity that welcomed him, his fingers gripping the thighs with bruising force. He pounded deep into that sweet meat, Benny's hips bucking up to impale himself deeper on Ray's burning cock. Silken heat enclosed Ray, his own thighs trembling with the depth of his need as he rammed in and out of the pliant body bound for his pleasure.

The sounds of the television drifted through the louvred doors, along with murmured voices and laughter. He felt wild and excited and free! He saw the sheen of sweat glistening on Benny's chest and thighs as he fucked him good and hard, Benny's cock bobbing and weeping at the tip, then he cried out and spurted his seed deep into Benny, cum spilling out as he pulled out, the Gentleman collecting the semen in a pearl-white bowl and setting it on the table.

"Truly a high quality of gravy, sir," purred the Gentleman, wiping Ray with a skilled, impersonal touch.

Limp as a dishrag, Ray allowed the touch, his breath coming in harsh gasps. He was hunched over, his cock now spent, then he watched as the Gentleman cleaned Benny's thighs and stomach, collecting their mingled seed.

"Gay seeds are so precious," murmured the man. "They can be planted again and a whole new crop of good things can sprout. Or spread." He smiled.

Ray gathered up enough strength to tuck his cock away and zip up his pants. He patted Benny's thigh and smiled down at the Mountie, damp curls plastered to Benny's brow.

"I take it the entree meets with your approval, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely." Ray yawned and patted his stomach. "Help me untie him, will you?"

"Oh, no, sir."

"Huh?"

The Gentleman shook his head. "You've had your sample, now the rest must have theirs."

"What?"

"Sir, a Thanksgiving Mountie must be shared, not hoarded. There are many more kinds of stuffing that must be applied today."

"Listen, no one is stuffin' his cavity but me!"

"I'm afraid not, sir." The Gentleman's hand was swift, a needle pressing into Ray's thigh. The Italian began to sway but the man caught his arm and led him into a chair by the window. "You will be able to view it all here, sir."

"Why are you doing this?" Ray gasped out, unable to move.

"I'm your deepest, darkest desires, sir," whispered the Gentleman in his ear, then he left to open the louvred doors.

There stood a line of leering males, gathered not only from the Vecchio clan but from the Precinct and neighborhood. Cousin Gino was first, his hands already unzipping his pants. Jack Huey smiled and waved from fourth in line, and behind him, Elaine and Frannie giggled and did the same.

"How can the women..?" Ray asked.

"Well, sir, the stuffing does not have to be organic."

"Yeah, Ray, Ernie's Sex Shoppe has just the thing for stuffing!" Frannie called as she waved an enormous dildo, Elaine showing off hers as well.

"Mr. Vecchio," said the Gentleman to Gino as he removed the apple from Benny's mouth, "You need preparation, sir."

"No!" Ray screamed. "No! No! No!

II
BUTTERBALL(S)

"Ray! Ray, are you all right?"

Ray's eyes snapped awake and stared into Benny's. The Mountie had a firm grip on his American's shoulders.

"Benny!" Ray grasped Benny's arms, his eyes frantically searching his lover's kiss-swollen lips. "No apple!"

"No, Ray." Benny was puzzled at the odd words but continued soothing his volatile Yankee. "You had a bad dream. It's all right now." He patted Ray's back and Dief whined softly, pushing his nose against Ray's thigh.

"Jeez!" Ray buried his face in Benny's chest. "I'm sorry I woke you, Benny." He pulled away. "Oregano!"

"Yes, Ray." Benny smiled indulgently. "You crushed a clove in my hair and rubbed some into my skin." He blushed. "Said it was sexy on Thanksgiving." Ray's eyes were huge. He looked ready to break into hysterics.

"You're no Butterball!"

"Of course not, Ray." Benny was affronted. He patted his stomach. "I know that I ate a lot today of your mother's wonderful cooking, but we all did." He smiled. "It's all right, Ray. Shh, now. Go back to sleep." He pushed Ray's head to his chest. Benny gently rocked his lover, who mumbled "Drumsticks" and finally fell asleep.

"You go back to sleep, too, Dief."

The wolf obeyed, curling up at the foot of the bed on the hooked rug. Benny settled himself comfortably with an armful of Ray. His poor Ray must have eaten too much turkey. Well, they'd all eaten too much food today, due to Rosa Vecchio's exceptional cooking. He'd had some sort of strange dream himself but couldn't remember it for the life of him. It had fled his mind like a quicksilver wraith when he'd sensed Ray's distress and had awakened just as Ray had let out his first shout. They were in tune, body and soul.

He shifted. Speaking of body, his ass was extremely sore, and so were his jaw muscles. This was odd, as he and Ray had made love earlier that evening, but he had neither sucked Ray off or been penetrated by his lover. They had merely kissed and rubbed their groins together. His mouth and ass felt as if they had gone though one of their all-night sessions with frequent orgasms. Puzzled as to why he should be so sore, he yawned, his jaw protesting, and then began to drift off.

A shaft of moonlight streamed in through the window, hitting his buttocks and creating silvery-white patterns.

The patterns spelled Grade-A.

End The Thanksgiving Mountie by Gilda Lily: jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com

Author and story notes above.