Chapter 7 TruthBare #2
“How do you manage to survive at MCU being so effeminate?” Matt asked.
The cartoon squad lost their composure and laughed.
William waited for the room to quiet down. “I survive, dahling, because I am the court jester, the token queer they tolerate so that they can proclaim that they have a gay ‘friend.’ And even as the token, I must be a sanitized, ‘G-rated’ eunuch.”
Until that moment Matt had been a little jealous that William got to be out at MCU.
Now he realized how lonely the role must be: considered everyone’s friend but having no friends.
He remembered how, a few minutes earlier, William and the cartoon squad had paid him respect by removing their shirts.
He returned the gesture, taking off one sock and holding it up for all to see.
The rest of the cartoon squad similarly removed articles of clothing. Clown caught Matt’s attention despite Matt’s coulrophobia. Clown had already been down to just his shorts and those blue high tops, having doffed his shirt earlier.
Matt expected Clown to remove one of his shoes. Instead, the guy chose to shed his shorts—and, SURPRISE, he was apparently going commando!
Clown sat naked with only his mask on his face and his high tops on his feet!
Matt felt a budding affinity for this weird tribe, his tribe if they would have him.
He had assumed the game’s nudity was sexual in nature—and given they were all gay, that had to be a factor.
Now he realized another, subtler, factor: clothes made it easier to lie—to oneself and to others.
Clothes masked the imperfections of nature, made people look taller or younger or slimmer.
There was truth in nakedness. Wasn’t it Jesus who said the truth would set you free?
Round two began with Matt’s still wearing one sock, jeans, and underwear.
He had to choose “bare” for Mouse’s question since he had chosen “truth” twice in a row.
He removed his remaining sock, tossed it onto the growing pile of his discarded clothing.
He noticed now, bare feet against the carpet, how thick and plush it was.
How could these guys afford a room like this when his dad, an officer in the Air Force, could not?
Next it was Pirate’s turn. There was no way Matt was going to give that guy another shot at a soul-searing question, so he chose “bare” and removed his jeans.
Eventually it was Clown’s turn. Matt was down to his boxer briefs. Clown asked him “Truth or Bare?”
Matt chose “truth,” avoiding eye contact.
“Why do you have that Dallas Cheerleaders poster in your room?” Clown asked.
Matt had asked himself the same question a day earlier. Why did he have that poster? Whatever baby step the poster had represented on his journey out of the closet was behind him and seemed silly now. “Actually, I threw that away yesterday,” Matt said.
Clown looked at William. “I think I’ve heard enough. I’m ready to vote.”
Shit! Matt felt panicky. Had he said something wrong? He remembered that Clown’s earlier question had been about Matt’s history with girls. Now this question about the poster. Did Clown think he was lying about being gay?
That confirmed it: he HATED clowns!
William held up a hand. “I think Clown is right. We’ve heard enough to be able to vote on Matthew’s candidacy. Does anyone object to voting now?”
Matt wanted to object. He wanted the game to continue so he could convince them of his worthiness.
They proceeded without consulting him.
“Everyone who thinks Matthew should be admitted to the group stand up,” William said.
Clown stood—blue high tops, sexy legs, and leering mask.
Matt sighed in relief.
Lion and Mouse stood as well, followed by Princess.
Pirate hesitated, but finally stood.
“It’s unanimous then,” William said. “Matthew, welcome to the GM!”
The cartoon squad took off their masks and introduced themselves. Todd (Mouse), Evan (Pirate), Luke (Princess), Josh (Lion), and Jake (Clown). As they talked, they laughingly stripped out of their remaining clothes. Even William got naked.
Jake retained his blue high tops.
Matt beamed. He’d never been this excited to be welcomed to any group. He dropped trou and stood in his birthday suit.
William appraised him, smiling. “Glad to see you trimmed the hedges!”
Matt blushed.
“Okay ladies,” William said. “Let’s resume.”
Everyone settled back into their seats.
William continued with a sly grin on his face. “Our custom, Matthew, is to welcome new members with a special treat. You get to pick a sex act you’d like to engage in (stroking, sucking, topping, or bottoming) AND pick which member you’d like to do it with.”
Matt was flummoxed, unsure how to process this information.
Topping—finally getting to fuck a guy, getting to fit his rigid key inside a small keyhole—thrilled him.
Picking his partner seemed freaky. (Eenie, meenie, miney, moe?
Or short straw—smallest dick?) The fact was that he felt an emotional connection with William. He wanted to fuck William.
William, perhaps sensing Matt’s thoughts, shook his head.
“I forgot to mention one rule, dahling,” he said.
“You can’t choose your sponsor this time.
That’s me. In fact, no second handshakes with any member until you’ve shaken hands with everyone.
Our way of bonding. We call that ‘The Handshake Rule.’”
Matt looked awkwardly at Todd, Evan, Luke, Josh, and Jake. They smiled back at him as if this were the most natural thing. And now he worried what the rest of the members would be doing while he fucked one of them? Watching with their masks on? Rating his performance?