Mamut-Extra chapters

“What a great play!” said Pelos as he gathered his hair into a small swirl on top of his head.

“I told you it was worth seeing,” Mamut enthusiastically licked a caramel apple.

“Thank you for the recommendation, Ángel, it was an unforgettable experience,”

“Nothing like the thrill of live performance, especially when the story is horror and mystery. I liked that the fake blood didn’t look like cheap tomato sauce,” Mamut took a small bite of his apple.

“Very appropriate for the occasion,” expressed the young man in the group as he adjusted his glasses.

Mamut had mentioned the play to Doctor Duarte during a session, and he found it interesting and a good excuse for a “couples” outing. It shouldn’t have been, it wasn’t ethical to be so intimate with one of his patients, but the rules of normality couldn’t apply to his favorite patient. At some point, he had become like the son he would never have, and at some point, he stopped charging for his sessions.

These two had a dynamic of life that was inconceivable to anyone, but the doctor was certainly fascinated by how they marched to their own beat, their own desires, without regard for the social or moral norms of what they were supposed to be. Inspired by their audacity, he dared a bit...

“There’s a place... There’s a place we could go, the night is young...” He looked at young Simón, waiting for his reaction. It hadn’t been long since they last went out, but he wanted it, really wanted to have him close, even if it was just for a few extra minutes.

Pelos, excited yet with a seriously concerned look, glanced at the doctor who scratched his neck and looked expectantly at the bespectacled young man who, completely oblivious to the situation, awaited a response from his older brother. Mamut, on the other hand, continued happily eating his apple.

“Of course!” Pelos smiled, placing an arm over Mamut’s shoulders, covering him with his body.

Eventually, the group of distinguished and unusually charming men arrived at their destination.

An entrance to a massive warehouse with a gigantic security guard at the entrance and an incredibly long line that stood between them and the mysterious space.

“What is this?” Pelos asked, approaching the doctor.

“It’s a surprise, don’t be so impatient,” the doctor reassured him.

The pair of brothers had now entered into a dispute over the caramel apple.

“Angie, don’t be selfish, give me some.”

“Why didn’t you buy your own, you scoundrel?”

“I just don’t want to eat it all, Angie, just a bite and that’s it.”

The doctor and Pelos watched them from afar with somewhat silly looks on their faces.

“Doctor, that line is very long,” Pelos said, without taking his eyes off the restless brothers.

“It is,” the doctor furrowed his brow slightly and scratched his chin in thought. Then he continued to enjoy the little fight between the brothers. “I have an idea, take off your shirt!”

Pelos looked at him, confused.

“Doctor, I’m sorry, but this body already has an owner.”

-------------

The colossal security guard waited patiently at the entrance, it was a tedious and boring task, although today was a bit more entertaining than usual because of the costumes, which made his view more interesting. People with a natural talent for this were in abundance. Enormous and intricate characters from all categories lined up, and the guard mentally ranked them from best to worst. If his favorite won the contest, he’d give himself a pat on the back for his good judgment. He was so absorbed in this mental task and scrutinizing the people in line that when the group of men approached, ignoring the line, he almost didn’t notice them. But the beauty of these people was incandescent; each one was so damn perfect that he almost let his jaw drop, and drool escape from his mouth.

The oldest among them approached confidently, dressed in a vest, trousers, and an elegant jacket draped over his shoulder. He smiled almost blindingly and said confidently:

“We’re going in.”

The young man with an intellectual gaze and glasses subtly approached his shoulder and whispered in his ear. This young man was impeccable, dressed in a turtleneck and trousers, with slight prudence, he said to the elegantly dressed man in a hushed voice:

“... but ... we haven’t waited in line.”

When this happened, the man with firm and polished features, a slightly more mature version of the intellectual guy, approached the young man from behind and simply covered his mouth and dragged him backward, preventing another word from coming out of his foolish mouth.

“Of course, we can go in,” the young man with long hair, wearing only a small sleeveless shirt that coyly revealed a long and juicy neck, tilted his head in a seductive plea that no one could resist. Those dark wells of desire were as hypnotic as the path to hell.

“Ah,” the guard managed to say. When he was finally about to respond to the illuminated man sculpted from the material of lust, he was stopped by a strong chest that stood between him and the idyllic demon of seduction.

“Let’s go,” the shirtless man didn’t wait for inspection and simply took the seductive long-haired man by the waist, then gave him a deep kiss.

The guard didn’t dare to refuse; this animalistic and fierce-looking man glared at him with hatred, yet he couldn’t be less captivated by his overwhelming charm. They would fit right into the place. There was no reason to stop them.

They had made it, inside the enormous and noisy warehouse, where darkness, neon lights, the smell of alcohol, and sweat assaulted their senses.

The DJ moved energetically to the beat of the music, directing the masses in an enveloping dance. Then young Simón noticed something:

“Why are there only men?” he asked, carefully tucking away his glasses. He didn’t have good eyesight, but in such a hostile environment, it would be unwise not to guard his belongings.

Pelos stepped in to respond, shirt in hand, his body already starting to sweat slightly due to the atmosphere.

“Doctor, what a great choice! Thank you for thinking of us,” he said cheerfully.

The doctor scratched his neck again, his cheeks slightly flushed, and replied, “Of course... Of course, we don’t go out very often, I wanted you to be comfortable.” An awkward grimace, similar to a smile, emerged from his lips.

Mamut was ecstatic, he had never witnessed anything like it. Everyone seemed free from any restraints. This cellar contained everything morally impure and disastrous to others’ morals. Men of unparalleled appearance were dancing unrestrained, with no limitations on their desires. Several of them wore nothing more than a small “thong,” that reckless Cabus gyrated in front of the brothers’ eyes.

“???” The brothers looked at each other and then burst into laughter. The man, indignant because his mating dance had not worked, quickly moved away and looked for a new target.

Pelos headed to the bar with the doctor. They had to shout to be heard.

“Doctor, what do the hospital policies say about these encounters with a patient and the patient’s family members?”

“That’s something the hospital doesn’t need to know,” the doctor replied, settling into a tall-legged bar stool.

The bartender approached, immediately entranced by Pelos.

“What can I get for the beautiful Narcissus?” he asked, his gaze openly lusting over Pelos’s chest.

Pelos returned a friendly smile.

“A stout beer for my darling,” he winked while pointing at the beautiful man with long flowing hair who was energetically dancing on the floor. “And a Sex on the Beach for me.”

The bartender knew he didn’t stand a chance; he couldn’t compare to the man on the dance floor. So, he went for the next best option.

“And for the elegant daddy?” he inquired, even more lasciviously.

“For the love of my life, a daiquiri,” the doctor indicated a slightly awkward-looking young man with a serious and melancholic gaze who was moving robotically on the dance floor. But damn it, this guy looked immaculate and tantalizingly corruptible. “And for me, a double dry whisky, please.”

Today was not his lucky day. Resigned, he prepared the drinks, and in no time, they were in the hands of Pelos and the elegant doctor.

Pelos adjusted the straw and took a sip of the drink.

“The love of your life, huh?” he teased.

“Any objections?” the doctor rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms, and then gracefully downed the whisky in one go.

“Doctor, let me understand something, weren’t you the one who wouldn’t let me be alone with Mamut to avoid crossing professional boundaries? What’s different with Simón?”

“He’s not my patient anymore, it’s been over a year,” the doctor smiled triumphantly.

“Oh,” Pelos began to clap ironically, even giving a small bow. “I offer my respects and await your guidance, master.”

The doctor took it in stride. “You won’t be able to match me,” he raised an eyebrow, giving Pelos a superior look.

“I have no interest in doing that,” replied Pelos. “When it comes to matters of love, I have a significant advantage, doctor. It wouldn’t be fair to subject you to such humiliation.” Pelos sipped a bit more of the sweet liquid.

The doctor seemed defeated before the battle even began. “Is there a chance I could have a shot?” he asked, shoulders slumped and spirits crushed.

Pelos glanced at the unfortunate doctor and then at the young man on the dance floor who was quickly approaching the bar. “I’m sure you do, doctor,” he muttered to himself, then immersed himself in his long and heavy drink.

“Doctor Duarte, Doctor Duarte, are you feeling okay?” It was Simón, gently holding onto his forearm as if offering support to help him up.

“Of course, Brother Simón, I’m feeling much better now.” The doctor’s posture changed drastically.

Simón removed his gaze from the doctor’s close scrutiny. “That’s good, doctor... that’s good.”

The doctor extended the colorful cocktail towards Simón. “I remembered that you like citrusy and refreshing flavors. I don’t know if you’ve tried this, but... if you don’t like it, we can order something else.”

Simón accepted it with both hands as if it were an offering. “Thank you, doctor,” he said, then proceeded to drink more than half of the bluish liquid.

Pelos and Doctor Duarte watched in surprise as the liquid went down his throat. “It’s a bit strong, what kind of juice is this?” Simón asked before swaying slightly.

“It’s a daiquiri, a cocktail with alcohol,” said Pelos calmly as he took another sip of his drink, then cast a quick glance at the dance floor, where Mamut was dancing gracefully. How was this man so good at everything?

“Doctor Duarte,” Simón gently tugged at the doctor’s clothing. “Mamut was teaching me to dance, but he says a stick insect has more rhythm and fluidity than me. It’s so unfair! Just because he’s good at it doesn’t mean I’m bad, don’t you think, doctor?” Simón’s gaze was profoundly serious.

“I think you look good dancing. If you want, I can teach you,” the doctor offered.

Their interaction was interrupted by hearty laughter.

“Hahaha, what did that Pekingese dog think he was?” They looked towards the dance floor, where Mamut had pinned an average-looking man to the ground. Then, Pelos simply approached the dance floor and took Mamut by the waist, ignoring the poor devil.

“Mamut, it’s time for you to dance with me,” Pelos said.

“Why did it take you so long?” Mamut asked.

“I enjoy watching you,” Pelos whispered lightly in his ear. “I like admiring your body, the way you move reminds me of when I have you under my control, beneath me.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Just one drink.”

“Mmm, and what about my drink? What kind of guardian are you?” Mamut stretched out his hand, and a drink was quickly placed in it. Mamut downed the beer completely without staggering. It took much more than that to bring him down.

While Mamut was drinking, Pelos took a hair tie from his pocket and stood behind the seductive man. He gathered Mamut’s hair into a long ponytail, exposing his neck. Pelos couldn’t resist and gave it a couple of kisses, one gentle and one firmer, then he sucked on that neck a bit. Mamut was at his mercy, and suddenly, the long neck was lightly bitten. They both moved sensually, losing themselves in each other, ignoring everything else around them.

Simón and Doctor Duarte avoided making any direct contact with the affectionate couple.

“It was a good choice, doctor,” Simón said with flushed cheeks, still struggling with the intoxicating drink. “They can feel comfortable here.” He smiled for the first time all night.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“I... well, I don’t feel bad, I guess. I think I like this place,” Simón said, looking around at the colorful and free environment.

The doctor moved closer to the young man. “What do you think of them, Brother Simón?”

“What should I think about them?”

“Everyone has an opinion.”

“I don’t have any particular opinion.”

This young man was hard to read.

“Doctor, how about you teach me how to dance?”

“I’ll try.”

Doctor Duarte was dragged onto the dance floor. Although he was slightly above average in dancing skills, he was definitely below Mamut’s level. He had learned to dance a long time ago, as dancing was a basic social skill. Patiently, he became Simón’s dance instructor, who seemed to have stiff movements. The doctor approached carefully and, with his own body, showed him how to move.

“Do you understand? You just have to move your hips a bit more,” the doctor said as he held Simón’s hands and focused on the young man’s pelvis. However, at one point, Simón’s hip movement stopped, and he disappeared from the doctor’s view.

Resigned, the doctor returned to the bar, where he found Pelos, who was sweating profusely.

“Where’s Ángel?” the doctor asked.

“On the dance floor,” Pelos replied.

“And what are you doing here?” the doctor questioned.

“I’m admiring the scenery. If I get too close, it could be dangerous,” Pelos replied as he enjoyed his fifth “Sex on the Beach.”

The doctor poured himself another whisky and noticed a pitcher of beer next to him.

“Is that for us?” he asked.

“It’s for Mamut, to cool off,” Pelos replied.

“Isn’t it too much?” the doctor inquired.

“Not for Mamut,” Pelos said.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“Pelos, there’s something I want to ask you,” the doctor said somewhat shyly.

“Go ahead, ‘master,’ ask me,” Pelos replied with a smile.

The doctor felt a bit embarrassed.

“How do you know who... well... is on top and who...?” He didn’t finish the question, but Pelos understood what he meant.

Pelos spat out the valuable liquid from his mouth.

“What?!”

“You already heard me,” the doctor crossed his arms, knowing for certain that Pelos had heard him.

Pelos seemed to want to make a joke, but the doctor was being sincere in his question.

“I thought you had experience. From the place, I assumed you weren’t a rookie,”

The doctor continued, maintaining his posture with crossed arms.

“A patient told me about this place,” the doctor admitted.

“Doctor, I didn’t know you were so curious... to be honest, I didn’t have a say in it. Honestly, I would like that...“Pelos regretted speaking and simply continued. “I think it should happen naturally; you don’t have to sign a contract about it” He took another sip of his drink.

“Mmm, I understand. I should look into it” the doctor said, stroking his chin. Then he looked at Pelos, who seemed pensive. “What would you like?”

Pelos once again spat out some of the expensive elixir. “For this, I should work twice as hard and maybe steal a bit more,” he thought. He had already managed to snatch a couple of bills from careless wallets.

“Mmm?”

“You said you would like... What would you like?” The doctor couldn’t resist his habit of inquiring.

Pelos blushed a bit.

“Switch”

“Aaaa... oh... oh, I see” the doctor immediately understood and blushed a bit, then submerged himself back into his whisky.

The doctor had already finished six drinks when Simón returned.

“Simón, are you okay? You took a long time” the doctor asked.

“Surely, he clogged the toilet, hahaha,” Pelos said with drunken enthusiasm.

“I’m fine” Simón replied. Then he drank the entire daiquiri, ordered two more, and drank them in one go.

“Simón, you should drink more carefully” The doctor was concerned about the handsome young man. Simón’s drunken breath wafted toward him.

“Doctor, you’re a monster, you did this to me, it’s your fault, doctor” Simón began to cry, leaning on the doctor’s shoulder.

“Definitely not a good drinker” Mamut was preparing to leave. He picked up Pelos in his arms and put a shirt on his bare torso. Then he took out a wallet from one of Pelos’ pockets that was about to burst with money, took some bills, and offered them to the doctor. “Doctor, this is our share for the drinks”.

The doctor declined.

Don’t worry; it’s on me—.

“All right, next time it’s on me,” Mamut said. Then he took the pitcher of beer and drank it all in one go. His state seemed unshaken, as conscious as ever, well, almost always.

Simón continued to cry on the doctor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you, doctor, but would you be so kind as to take him home?”

The doctor took the hand of the lamenting young man.

“Of course, of course, I’ll take care of him,” he said.

“Thank you, doctor. See you in the session” Mamut bid a formal farewell to the doctor.