Category: Gay Male Stories

To Tame a Shrew

by Pelaam©

This is a re-working of a classic as suggested by loves_SG1.

"What in the world!?" Surging to his feet from his desk and heading to the door of his office, he flung it open and stared at the sight.

"Oh, hi, Dad."

"What is that?"

"Hey there, Will," the other man shouted.

William gritted his teeth. He hated being called Will. He glared at the equipment being carried through his house.

"Is this all really necessary?" he asked.

"'Fraid so, Dad. The turntables and speakers are needed for the music. Don't worry. It'll be wired up correctly so that the music reaches down the full length of the garden, the patio where the barbeque will be, as well as the swimming pool. The party's going to be just great. Peter will love it."

"I doubt it, Alan," William said shaking his head.

"I'll be with you in a minute H-Man," Alan said, detouring from his assignment to follow his father into the older man's study. "What's wrong, Dad?" he asked as he closed the study door.

"Peter is going to know this is a set-up. Why not just be honest with him. You finally want to settle down and marry. You can't inherit your grandfather's legacy unless Peter is married first. For all you know he may already be dating."

"He isn't. I checked," Alan said sullenly.

"Couldn't you at least have talked openly to him?"

"I tried, but at the mention of Leigh he didn't want to hear any more. I want him to be happy, too, Dad. It's not just that I want the inheritance, although I do want to give Leigh the best life I can," Alan said passionately.

"I just think this is the wrong way for a man like Peter," William sighed. "I think you should have just gone and talked to him."

"I will, Dad, I promise."


Peter groaned as he disembarked at Reno airport. He was glad to have concluded his business and wished he could just drive out to his remote mountain home. At least he could start to relax knowing he could just throw his stuff in a cab and get to his father's house and crash. He hated travelling; he hated crowds and their almost overwhelming odours, and he hated loud noise. All he wanted was to get where he could dump his belongings, take a hot, unhurried shower and relax.

Alighting from the cab, Peter stared, struck dumb at the sight. Two statuesque males stood outside his family home. That might not have given him pause for thought if they had been wearing more than tight shorts and tank tops. The sound of music, not the soft jazz his father preferred, but the insistent beat of more modern offerings was audible even from the drive.

Almost in a daze, Peter picked up his meagre luggage and began to head to the house. The two men looked him over, each smiling and licking their lips as they saw him. Their gazes were almost predatory, despite which, Peter felt himself begin to harden.

Shaking off the slight haze of primitive arousal and lust, Peter stomped towards the front door. Using his key he opened it and stepped inside. The music assailed his ears even here. Deciding that a shower and change of clothes were essential, due to his own sweat offending his sensitive nose, Peter headed to where his room was always kept ready.

With a sigh of relief he stripped. He regarded his nude body as he adjusted the water for his shower. His close cropped dark hair was still one colour, although perhaps a little thinner at the front than it used to be. However, he was still sleek and powerfully muscled. He took care to maintain his fitness. There was only himself to rely on in his home. Nearby neighbours were miles, not moments away. His sky-blue eyes regarded his physique critically before he turned back to the shower. When he felt more human he would find out just what the Hell was going on.

Showered and changed, Peter exited his room and began his search for his father or brother. It seemed the music was everywhere and so far Peter had found neither his father nor his brother. He decided to take his search outside. He stared at the men milling around.

He could tell the serving staff from the guests by the fact they wore black shorts and a bow tie. He waved away a bleached blond who had a tray with hors d'ouvres. At the moment he had no appetite. He continued his search, moving into the more sparsely occupied areas of the house's grounds. He heard a soft murmur of voices, one of which was a gentle baritone that seemed to soothe his rapidly fraying nerves.

Looking into an arbour, he saw one of the many waiters with a guest who looked as out of place as he felt. He was illuminated by a lamp. His auburn hair seemed almost to glow and Peter could see intelligent, smoky-blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and humour. He was also closely examining the waiter's nipple piercing and, as ridiculous as it was, a shard of possessive jealousy stabbed through him.

"Don't you have a job to do?" he growled angrily at the hapless waiter. It gave him a modicum of satisfaction that the younger man looked chagrined and jumped back from the other man.

"Don't you have any manners?" the auburn-haired man retaliated, standing.

"I am working," the waiter said apologetically. "I can look out for you at the end of my shift. See you around."

"Just who do you think you are, apart from a no-mannered Neanderthal?" the auburn-haired man demanded.

"The son of the man who owns the house," Peter said smugly.

"Oh," came the erudite reply. "That still doesn't give you the right to be rude," the younger man added scowling.

"At least I wasn't trying to seduce the serving staff," Peter growled.

"Neither was I. I just admired the way he had used his grandfather's wedding ring as a nipple decoration."

"What are you, some kind of fetish enthusiast?" Peter sneered.

"Originally I studied anthropology and now I'm a teacher," came the cold-toned reply. "I thought it an original way of keeping his family close to his heart."

Peter stared, stunned into silence as the auburn beauty stormed angrily away. Then he frowned. Beauty? Where had that come from? Shaking himself as if to dispel an unwanted feeling, Peter resumed his search for his family.

"Finally," Peter huffed as he found his father sitting out in the gazebo at the far end of the gardens. "I've been looking everywhere for you or Alan."

"Oh he's around here somewhere," William said waving his hand vaguely. "He said for you to just join in the party when you arrived and he'd find you eventually."

"Doesn't seem Alan's usual type of crowd," Peter said, glancing back to where he'd spoken to the young man.

"It's something he's sorted with that DJ friend of his," William said. "I think all the guests have arrived and there is plenty of food and drink. Go and have some fun, Peter," William smiled.

Peter wandered aimlessly back towards the house. The beat had mellowed slightly, although it was still loud and insistent. He picked a plate of hors d'ouvres and a glass of champagne. The food and drink were both good and he relaxed a little as the bubbles worked their magic.

Looking around he could not help but muse over the teacher being out of place amongst a group of such athletic males. His eyes roamed as he wandered towards the house once more. He was the object of attention himself and the thought had him hardening again. He veered away from the house snagging another glass of champagne. He headed round towards the pool to see if Alan might be there.

Rounding a corner he bumped into a figure partially obscured by one of the bushes. He stared as he came face-to-face with the auburn-haired beauty.

"Are you following me?" he demanded angrily, embarrassed at literally walking into the smaller man.

"You bumped into me remember?" came the acidic response. "Oh, probably not, it would take a brain to have a memory. I would have said you were stalking me, but that would presuppose entailing you had good taste," was added acerbically.

The two men glowered at each other, neither willing to back down. It was the auburn-haired man that finally gave an impatient sigh.

"Look, my name is Benjamin and if you want me off your father's grounds just say so."

"I'm Peter. You were invited weren't you? You deserve to be here as much as the others."

Benjamin gave a non-descript reply. In truth he had not been invited. His friend had been invited and was one who would be far more at home with the beefcakes surrounding him. Go. Enjoy yourself. Have fun. I'm stuck working and this is too good to pass up. It's been arranged by the son of the guy who owns the house. You'll have a blast. Benjamin was rethinking that idea. The owner's son, Peter, should have known who he invited. But then, Barry had said Peter arranged it. Perhaps he had not been the one to send out invitations.

"Drink?" Peter asked gruffly as a waiter sauntered by. He scooped up two glasses, irrationally irritated that this waiter was also interested in Benjamin. As he handed over the drink he gave a quick but thorough look at the younger man.

He was an exotic beauty, unique amongst the more plastic, albeit attractive, men around them. He could imagine the smoky eyes glowing when the other man was passionate. The slight curl to the auburn tresses seemed natural rather than the obvious styling of the most of the others. His lips were full and lush and despite everything, even their ignominious initial meeting, Peter would have liked to explore them with his own. However, that was never going to happen.

"Thanks," Benjamin smiled. He surreptitiously studied the big man next to him. He was tall and muscled like so many of the others around them. Although they had got off to a bad start, Benjamin had noticed the loneliness in Peter's ice-blue eyes. He was buff, but he did not seem to feel the need to wear tight-fitting clothes, or even barely-there clothes, to draw attention to himself. There was a presence about him that drew Benjamin. Like a moth to a flame? He asked himself.

Catching a glimpse of his brother, Peter put down his glass.

"I'll be back in a minute. There's someone I need to speak to."

Benjamin watched him stalk purposefully like a large predator through the garden. He shook his head. He was not even sure he liked the man and yet felt an undeniable attraction towards him. He shook his head and took a swallow of his drink. He ambled to sit on a garden seat and listen to the music. However, voices nearby, behind the hedge, quickly caught his attention.

"Are you sure?" a scandalised voice queried.

"Yes. I heard it from H-Man himself. The son of the house has arranged this party so that he can pick a prospective boyfriend. Let's be honest, who'd pass up a chance to come when you could be the boyfriend of money like this?"

Benjamin felt his blood turn to ice. Peter clearly thinks money buys everything he thought angrily. He set down the half-finished glass, the champagne tasting sour in his mouth. He began to hunt for the older man angrily.


Peter froze where he stood listening to himself being discussed as if he were nothing more than a prime stud bull.

"It's true," the voice insisted. "I've heard lots of the guys talking about it. The party is just one big orgy so the son of the house can play around. And since he's single and rich if you strike lucky who knows what you could get out of it."

Disappointment warred with Peter. He had actually thought there was something different about Benjamin, but it seemed all the men here were just hoping he would find something about them he liked because he was rich and that was their main consideration. As he was about to leave a body slammed into his and, despite his height and build, he was propelled backwards against a table.


It did not take long for an angry Benjamin to find Peter and it seemed as if there could be no doubts about the veracity of what he had overheard. Peter was bent backwards on a trestle table, his shirt pushed up to reveal solid abdominals as he was kissed thoroughly by one of the many beefcakes Benjamin had seen wondering around. For a second, the younger man's eyes were riveted to the powerful physique and the cinnamon nubs that peaked proudly from a smooth chest. You idiot he thought. You thought there was actually something worthwhile behind that veneer. He made no sound as he whirled round and sought a way out.

He was angry and yet tears burned in his eyes, blurring his vision. He had been a fool to think there was anything of any substance under the older man's show of spoilt brat. He was so engrossed in his thoughts he bumped hard into a bemused older man.

"Are you alright?" William asked. The younger man seemed clearly distressed.

"I want to leave," Benjamin said bluntly. "I can't believe what I've just heard."

"This is my house," William said. "Please come inside and I'll call you a cab and you can tell me what's upset you."

William listened, wincing inwardly at what Benjamin had to say. The older man was about to tell Benjamin that it was Alan and not Peter that had arranged the party as a waiter came advising the taxi had arrived. William sighed as the younger man hurried to get away. He had known this would be a disaster.


"Just what do you think you're playing at?" Peter demanded angrily of his equally bad-tempered brother.

"I arranged a party so you could have a good time. You do remember what a good time is?" Alan sniped back.

"I was grabbed, shoved so hard against a table I'll have bruises and molested by someone who thought it would get them the title of 'My Boyfriend'."

"I never intended anyone should know anything other than it was a relaxed, gay-orientated party," Alan growled. "H-Man went and blabbed, wrongly, to some of his invitees."

"Everyone out there is looking me over as if I was a haunch of beef," Peter scowled. "No one is remotely interested in me as a person."

"That's not quite true," William interjected as it seemed his sons would just keep arguing. "There was one young man who was hurt to think he how did he put it? 'Just a side dish on a rich man's smorgasbord.'"

"Benjamin," Peter breathed softly. He doubted if any of the other men out there would be capable of such an intellectual thought. "Do you know where he went?" he asked his father.

"Sorry, son," William said softly. "He called the cab himself and I didn't hear the address. "Alan, tell Peter everything."

"I want to get married," Alan said with a sigh.


Looking at the glum face of her fiancé as she approached silently, Leigh knew something was troubling him.

"Hi there, handsome," she smiled. "What's wrong?"

"I'm an idiot, Leigh," Alan said, standing and hugging the lithe brunette tightly. He let her sit him back down and then looked into determined grey eyes.

"Tell me everything," she said.

"Granddad set up the company and was a ruthless businessman. That's why it was such a success and where we made our initial money. When Dad was old enough, Granddad started him off and the company branched out. Dad was successful in his own right and yet it was if it was never enough for Granddad. Then we came along. I was happy enough to join the company, but Peter wanted to branch out into computer software. The old man wasn't happy, but Dad supported Peter."

"Surely your grandfather was happy once he saw how well Peter was doing?" asked Leigh.

"Not at all. He wanted Peter to fail to then bring him into the established family business. He was a control freak. When Peter did well he looked for another way to control him. He found it."

"What?" queried Leigh, not certain she really wanted to know just how the older man had tried to tame a man like Peter.

"Peter is gay. He was careful, discreet, but the old man found out anyway," Alan sighed. "It infuriated him even more than Peter starting his own kind of business. He wanted wives and children to carry on the family name and the family businesses. He bought a man. A man who wooed and won Peter over and who Peter fell in love with. He abused Peter and then Granddad told him that John had never loved him. It had all been just an exercise in power and control."

"How awful!" Leigh exclaimed.

"Granddad may have broken Peter's heart, but he didn't break his spirit. He made a great success of his company, but Granddad hadn't finished with us. He had a trust fund set up for us but changed the terms of inheritance. To be able to inherit we have to be married and Peter must marry first. My brother was never the easiest man to get along with and John quickly became his world. After he found out it was all just an act, he became reclusive, living and working from his mountain cabin and only venturing out if a client needed him or to pay us the occasional visit."

"But why are you an idiot?" Leigh asked.

"Because I wanted us to have Granddad's inheritance. I thought if I threw a party with a lot of attractive men, Peter would realise he was missing out unnecessarily. I thought he might find one that he took a liking to and would at least start dating again."

"Oh, Alan," Leigh breathed.

"Worse than that," Alan said dropping his head. "Peter was furious at what I'd done. There was someone he liked, but he thought Peter set up the party because he was some sex-starved Lothario who thought money could buy anything. Peter initially thought he was a gold-digger when he heard others talking, but Dad put that straight. Peter only knew him as Benjamin and no one at the party, except a couple of the waiters, even remembered him. All we know is he was a teacher from out of town. Peter is so angry with me," Alan sighed.

"You are an idiot," said Leigh. "I'm not interested in your inheritance. I agreed to marry you without knowing there was one. But we do need to sort things for Peter."

"I've asked H-Man and he doesn't know the guy," Alan said plaintively.

"He's the man you used to get the guests so he's going to have to come up with more than that," Leigh said decisively. "He expects to DJ our evening party doesn't he?"

"Well, yes. I sort of promised..." Alan began.

"Then he'd best help us find our elusive Benjamin or he's out of a commission," Leigh stated. "Let's get this show on the road."


Peter wandered into his bedroom and stared at his luxurious, but empty bed. He glanced at his sleek, toned physique. He had not been celibate since his breakup with John, but he had not been able to trust anyone with his heart. It had served him well so far. He took trips into the nearby cities, just a couple of days at a time and found a companion from a reputable agency or, less frequently, from a likely bar.

He pulled open a bedside drawer and pulled out lube and a hand towel. He stretched out, the Queen-sized bed giving him plenty of room to spread his body. He let his hands slide sensuously over his chest, tugging at his nipples until the dusky-rose nubs stood proud and throbbed from the stimulation. He lubed up his hands, rubbing the viscous gel between them to warm it before beginning a slow glide up and down his rapidly filling length. He stared at his cock, watching it grow, its colour deepening as the blood rushed to his groin. As he rolled his balls with his left hand he squeezed at the head of his shaft with the other, watching the beads of pre-come drip free to add to the lubrication.

He gave a soft groan as he manipulated the orbs in his sac, squeezing them together and apart and rolling them in his palm. He had always been attracted to tall, athletic men like himself. However, as his hand worked his aching rod, rubbing with his thumb under the head, he began to imagine what it would be like to have a smaller man in his bed. One who had a luxurious pelt of chest hair. Peter had noticed the dark curls that had peeked from the shirt Benjamin had worn. He wondered how the hair would feel on his face, under his lips.

Category: Gay Male Stories