High Society

BIG ol' Warning(s): This one is one of the hardest parts I've done up thus far. It includes roughness, death (NOT a main character) and a very creepy guy with very creepy kinks/bad past. I'll say that no one in the story gets hurt (for the most part), but it contains triggers and squicks. If you feel like you might not be able to handle it but want to keep up with the story (this is gonna be the only real ebul-ish part, methinks), I'm including a synopsis of the chapter without all the "gory details" at the very end. Simply scroll down to read, if you feel as if you can't handle it!

~*~

Casey had worn a permanent blush the entire day with how everyone had chortled and given him descriptions of his state the night before. As drunk as they’d all been, Casey’s intake of wine had been much more--and he was much smaller, to boot.

“Zeke was the most sober, but I STILL had to stand behind him and give him a push while he carried you up the stairs! Oh dear hell…” Danny had said at breakfast, complete with choking on his orange juice as he’d not been able to stop laughing. Even worse was when everyone joined in, saying that it’d been lots of fun undressing him for bed…

“Especially with the wood you had going on,” James had remarked.

To say that Casey was a bit mortified was an understatement, but he’d had a hard time not laughing along. Zeke had continued reading his morning paper, shaking his head every now and again. Everyone’s focus had switched when Noah walked into the dining room, wide-eyed and looking stunned. Before anyone could express their jealousy at his being deaf to Stephen’s morning-tirade, Noah signed out his morning to Casey, who’d let everyone know that he’d taken a squirt of water to the face as his ‘wake-up call’.

With twenty minutes left until the doors were opened for business, Casey was in the bedroom, busy getting fresh clothes on. Lunch had offered a coffee stain on his shirt, while he’d also sat upon a piece of pool-chalk in the parlor after that. The buttery-soft sweater felt much better, anyway. He next looked to the floor at his shoes and smiled. ‘Hmm…’ he thought. No--going barefoot sounded good. He’d seen Jamie do it once, and the foot rub he’d gotten from Clark had looked divine. Resolved, Casey left the room and headed down to the parlor, where the boys sat around in wait. A drink sounded good, so Casey approached the bar where Zeke, of course, was sitting. Casey smiled his way then turned to Robert. “Um… a cherry-soda. Lots of cherries on top.”

Robert went to set up his drink, while Zeke dropped his eyes to Casey’s feet. “No shoes tonight, huh?” he asked.

“Nope. I’m in the mood to relax a little,” Casey replied.

“You just want a foot-rub,” Zeke retorted with a sly grin.

“Hmm, maybe I do,” Casey said. “Anyway… you owe me. Maybe someone would like watching us ‘play’.”

Zeke snorted. “Suuure,” he said in a drawl.

Just as Robert returned with Casey’s drink, Stephen called out, “Door’s open!” Everyone set themselves to rights--sitting languidly on the couch, leaning on pool tables, whatever else. Casey put his back to the bar and leaned to sip; the cherries would most definitely come in handy…

While Mondays were usually slow, three men were already there, ready for the usual playtime. Clint, a John and the other, Casey didn’t know. Henry must have, as the boy went over to him with a smile. “Hello, Nicolas,” Casey heard him say. “It’s been a while.”

Nicolas responded by putting his arm around Henry’s waist and giving him a kiss. Casey sighed and stepped away from the bar to mingle with whoever he could.


~*~


“Oh no, no!”

“Oh, yes, yes, sweet thing.”

Casey was starting to regret his lack of footwear now. With a very playful John and Clark with him on the couch--John holding him under the arms to force him still and Clark at Casey’s feet, he squirmed and giggled profusely as his ankles were grabbed and held together tight. “Please! Have mercy!”

“Hmm, now then…” Clark grinned like a madman and began running his fingers over the soles. Casey began shaking from head to tickled-toes, all while giggling his head off--his drunk giggle, to be exact. “Oh my, that IS a laugh!” Clark said.

“Strange boy,” John said. He leaned in and nibbled Casey’s ear; the combination of that and Clark’s tickling was making Casey feel dizzy.

James arrived then, clucking his tongue and smiling. “Men, men--we don’t need the poor thing pissing himself,” he said as he sat on the arm of the couch by John. “That costs a room, and he isn’t allowed anyway.”

“Pish,” Clark said, his grin growing even more devious as he began tickling the pads of Casey’s toes.

“Anyway… Stephen wants to talk to you, Casey-boy,” James said.

This stopped the men’s assault, and Casey took his first real breath. “About what?”

“Don’t rightly know.” James leaned in to whisper in Casey’s ear. “It looks like there’s a john too scared to come in, and he’s making a request all private-like.”

Casey gave each man a coy grin and sat up. “Sorry, lads,” he said.

“Well, then. I think we’re in need of someone else’s feet,” John said, and with a quickness, he snatched James’ wrist to bring him between he and Clark.

“No, wait!”

Casey chuckled in hearing the men shuck off the boy’s shoes and restart their ‘game’. He passed through small groups of people until he was at the door where Stephen stood; as James had said, a man lurked just past him in the hallway. He had a husky build, his face wearing a heavy stubble. Glasses that looked much like Abe’s were perched on his wide nose; he carried a medium-sized leather bag in one of his large hands. Casey looked away from it to Stephen. “James said you wanted to talk to me?”

Stephen nodded slowly; he took a quick glance to the man, then back to Casey. “This is a new client, Victor. He’s a bit… shy, with what he wants.”

Victor coughed into his hand and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Casey. His gaze left the boy uncomfortable, but he smiled anyway. “Well, what is it that he wants?” Casey asked.

Stephen edged into the room and smiled; Casey noted that it didn’t carry his usual warmth. In a low voice to obviously avoid Victor from hearing, Stephen went on. “He needs a small boy; seeing as you’re my smallest, I figure you’d do,” he said. “He has a liking to boys in frock.”

“Oh,” Casey said; while he wasn’t shocked at the idea of dressing as a woman, it still gave him a small reality-check. It had been a long-time coming, doing something like this. “That’s fine.”

Stephen’s voice now went to a whisper. “All right. I think… he may like things a bit rough, as well. Which is okay, as long as he doesn’t get TOO rough. I’ll be putting Sam on duty near your room, and have him check on you through the peephole--just to make sure.”

This was growing a bit more dark than Casey was used to. Nevertheless… the job came first. “Okay,” he replied.

Suddenly, Zeke was there, looking hassled. “Stephen… Robert’s out of gin, and everyone wants gimlets all of a sudden,” he said.

“Oh. Well then, all right. I’ll send someone down to the cellar for more.”

“’K,” Zeke said. His eyes darted to Victor; for a moment, he stared with a thoughtful expression, but he stepped back and returned to the bar.

“All right, then,” Stephen said, looking back to Casey. The usual warm smile was given to him, as if Stephen was trying to reassure him that it was safe. They now turned back to Victor, who was shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting around, obviously impatient. After he paid the fee, the man looked to Casey with a trembling smile. Casey smiled sweetly back and joined him as they ascended the stairs. They passed Sam on the way to their room, who gave Casey a small, quick nod. Safe.

Now in their ‘play-space’, Victor shut the door and turned to Casey. The boy stared back at him, noting the hungry look in Victor’s eyes. With another small, shy smile, Casey moved to the bed and sat on the edge. “I see you have a bag of tricks,” he said in a coy tone. “What sorts of games shall we be playing?”

“Stand up. Strip.”

The sudden command made Casey blink fast, but he smiled wider and followed the instruction given. He lifted the sweater over his head and off his shoulders and arms, leaving him bare from the waist up. The slacks went next; with his feet free of socks and shoes, he was left nude, cock half-hard and ready for more. Casey clasped his hands behind his back and cocked his hip to the side. “Do I suit you?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” Victor hummed shakily. “Pretty little thing. Such a cute little girl.”

That wasn’t expected, even if Casey was to be in girl’s clothing. “Yes. Yes, I am,” Casey recovered to say.

“Your name is Nancy. When I say, ‘Nancy, do this’, you do it. Because you’re Nancy,” Victor said. He put the bag down on the side table, opened it and brought out women’s undergarments. They weren’t like most; they consisted of lace and silk, colored pink--skimpier than usual. Casey doubted that his shaft would fit underneath the small panty this man presented him with. “Put these on.”

“All right,” Casey said. He took the slip first, putting it over himself. The lacy edging tickled his chest and thighs. It reached just under his dick, making the hem graze along it. Casey made a soft hiss and coo, but he put aside the growing pleasure to continue dressing.

The panty went on next, then the stockings and garter belt. With the way he needed to lift the slip, he figured that that should have gone on last. Still, he managed to get everything on. The next item brought out was a tight-fitting, long gown. Getting it on was difficult, even with the buttons in the back undone. Victor helped with this detail.

“Pretty Nancy. You always dressed so nice.”

Casey nodded as the putting-together was finished. He noticed that the chest of this outfit was more open to allow a woman’s breasts. Seeing as he was flat-chested, it looked a bit silly. The slip showed clearly, but he was turned at the shoulder and given an approving, still-hungry stare from the man. After a few nervous swallows, Victor looked deep into Casey’s eyes and asked, “Do you love your Daddy?”

“Oh…” Casey was beyond stunned. What exactly this man played at… he forced down the growing, almost sickened feeling and smiled. “Yes.”

“Say, ‘Yes, Daddy.’”

“Yes… Daddy. I love you.”

“But you’ve been bad. I saw you with that boy, you know. You kissed him,” Victor said. “I didn’t like that. I’ve told you not to kiss boys, Nancy. That can lead to other things, and you’re such a good girl.”

Casey parted his lips and looked to the floor. Continuing the role-playing, he nodded. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“You still need some punishment. Don’t you?”

“I… suppose I do.”

Victor made a dark look, then went to his bag to draw out a smaller one made of velvet, tied at the top with a thick black corded rope. He sat on the bed, placed the satchel next to him and patted his thighs. “Come here, Nancy. You need a spanking.”

“I do?”

“Yes. You’ve grown into a young lady, but Daddy still needs to do this.”

Sighing shakily, Casey approached Victor and went stiff as he laid himself over the man’s lap. The dress was pulled up and bunched at his lower back to expose his ass. Casey could hear the man’s breath hitch and shudder as he placed his hand on him. It was gentle at first, rubbing lightly, but it changed when the hand left then was brought back down in a hard smack.

A sharp cry came from Casey; his legs straightened and knocked at the knees, the contact hard and cruel. There was another slap, another, another, until Casey was sure that his backside would be crimson when this was through. “Daddy… please, st-stop…” Casey pleaded. He didn’t, of course. The spanking continued, and with each hard blow, Casey could hear the man grunt and growl under his breath. After what seemed like forever, Victor finally stopped, resting his hand over the sore, beaten flesh.

“I’m sorry, Nancy. Your Daddy knows best. You’re so pretty.”

Casey swallowed hard as the lacy panty was slowly pulled down. “Daddy…”

“Say no.”

That seemed out-of-character for this ‘scene’. “What?”

“Say no.”

“N… No,” Casey said.

“No, Daddy.”

“N-No, Daddy… please.” Casey scrunched his eyes closed, trying to make sense of this. It was more than a silly role-play, more than a game.

“I’m sorry, Baby-girl. So sorry.”

Casey could hear the bag being untied and rifled around in. After a few long, anticipation-filled moments, Casey felt Victor’s fingers probe around his hole. They seemed slick with oil; obvious preparation. Casey fisted the thick blanket below and waited, whimpering a little as fingers were going deep within him. “D-Daddy, what are you doing?”

“Punishing you.” Victor sniffed over and over again, as if he was going to start crying; yet the growls continued, his throaty groans getting deeper. “I miss your mother.”

“I…” Casey tried to speak but fell mute. He took a breath and held it, not knowing what to expect.

“She’d be so upset with me. So upset. But I can’t help it. You’re so pretty. You look like her.”

Swallowing, Casey tried to keep calm--but he knew what was happening. All he could do was hope that this man truly and honestly hadn’t actually played this out in real life. Casey wanted ‘Nancy’ to be safe, and perhaps she’d stay safe, Casey offering a buffer for this man to get out his kinks and move on.

“Fight m-me,” Victor said next. Casey started breathing again and he squirmed, trying to move his lower half away from the man. Victor grabbed hold of his hip, however, and continued probing with his fingers--the movements grew harder and his breaths came out in sharp hisses. “Stay still!”

“Daddy, no--please stop!” Casey pleaded. Victor’s fingers left him, but before Casey could find relief, he heard the man rifling around in his bag again. His ass was then filled again, but not with fingers. It was hard, slick and unyielding. “Daddy!”

“Put it in deep… deep. My little virgin girl.”

Casey’s eyes crossed and closed. This wasn’t sex--not the usual, where a man threw his legs up and shoved himself inside. It was a perversion, a violation, an object being used instead of something human. Casey began squirming again, this time pulling his upper half to the bed and leaving Victor’s lap. Victor followed however, pushing Casey’s legs off and over the side of the bed. Casey’s knees almost met the floor as Victor got behind him, held him down by his neck and began thrusting the object inside of him harder and deeper.

“I’m s-sorry, Nancy. So sorry,” he said. There was a distinctive choke--something resembling regret. “You shouldn’t have kissed that boy.”

“Stop it, Daddy. Please stop… don’t…” Casey trailed off, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure swelling within him--no matter how sick it felt to feel.

“You w-wanted him to do this to you. But I want to do this to you. I’m your Daddy,” Victor said. “I want to show you.”

The object left Casey’s body and he was thrown back up to the bed, face-up and panting. Victor climbed over him and put his legs up upon his chest and shoulders. It was then that Casey noticed that he’d undone his slacks; the boy looked down and found that the man was soft and flaccid instead of hard and ready for action. Before he could continue protesting, Victor’s hands reached up to his neck and clamped them tight--not tight enough to cut off his breath, but enough to worry Casey.

“I’m sorry, Baby-girl. I didn’t mean to…”

“Daddy, I--” Casey’s voice was then cut off and he choked; now panic settled in as Victor’s hands tightened. “Vic-tor--”

“Daddy.”

“No. You need…” Casey heaved in a breath and clasped his own hands on Victor’s wrists. “…To stop. Need to stop. Not allowed.” he said in an irk.

Victor’s lower lip trembled as he stared down at Casey, who was now trying his best to wear a firm, hard stare--a warning. The pull-cord was too far away; if Casey had to, he’d yell the safe-word if things continued on this way. Relief came when Victor stopped putting pressure on Casey’s neck, then moved away entirely.

“I’m so sorry, Nancy. I didn’t m-mean to…” he said. He was suddenly sobbing, his eyes filling. “Do you forgive me? Do you f-forgive me, sweetheart? I didn’t mean to.”

The man needed something--needed a ‘yes’, so Casey nodded. “Yes, Daddy. It’s all right. I forgive you.”

“Good. Good,” Victor said. He then slumped down, his forearms resting around Casey’s head. He then kissed Casey’s temples, suddenly going gentle and calm. “You’re my sweet girl. I didn’t mean--”

The door was suddenly pushed open; shocked, Casey looked over Victor’s shoulder to see Sam walking in. “What--”

“Sir, you need to leave. Now,” Sam told him in his usual hard, stern voice. Victor sniffled and turned to look at him.

“Why? I wasn’t--” he went to say, but didn’t get the chance to explain anything. Sam and now Oscar were there, taking Victor’s shoulders and pulling him away from Casey. Before Casey could ask what was going on, an enormous amount of self-consciousness washed over him. He was sitting there, dressed in woman’s clothing, rumpled and moist with sweat and oil. He curled his legs up and sat, trying to hide.

Sam looked back at him and pursed his lips a moment. Victor was trembling underneath his hand, which held his shoulder tight, his other arm clamped in Oscar’s hard grip. “Go to the showers, clean up, dress and go back downstairs. Stephen will explain.” Sam said before leaving the room with the two others.

“What… wh-what did I do??” Casey heard Victor ask before their voices faded away down the stairwell. With his limbs quaking, Casey undressed quickly, threw on a robe and exited, feeling sick to his stomach.


~*~


Casey sat on his bed--he couldn’t stop shaking. Stephen’s words ran through his head.

“Zeke came to me, told me what he’d read in the paper--the pictures of Victor he’d seen.”

The news had left him too shaken-up to return to work, and Stephen had understood. It was around midnight now; everyone was still downstairs, doing the usual. Everything had been done discreetly enough, though the boys were sure to know what had gone on. Casey moved to lie on the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to find calm.

Nothing truly horrible would have happened, he figured. Though Victor had gotten rough… gotten dangerously close to being subjected to the code-word, he’d stopped. He’d managed to find self-control, even regret at what he’d been doing, what he’d been playing out. But exactly what he’d been playing out sent shivers up and down Casey’s spine. The boy could do nothing but go over the events in his mind, every single minute he’d been in that room. It all fit.

Time passed, and before he knew it, Zeke was opening the door and walking in with tentative steps. His hair was damp from showering, lips pursed tight and looking to Casey with a worried gaze. After shutting the door, he went to Casey’s bed and sat on the edge. “Are you… okay?” he asked in a soft voice.

Casey nodded slowly. “Yes,” he replied.

“You sure?”

“No.”

Zeke took a deep breath and put his back to the wall. Two cigarettes were placed in his lips; he lit both and handed one to Casey, who sat up and took it gratefully. He’d finished his half-empty pack a half an hour before, chain-smoking himself half to death. “Why is it always me?” Casey asked. He looked to Zeke with a solid gaze. “Whether it’s some disgusting idiot or letch following me in the city--why is it always me?”

“’Guess you just… attract that type,” Zeke replied.

“Yea. And now I can add murderers to that list,” Casey grumbled. He lie back down and sighed. “I saw it. I really did--the way he acted, it was too strange.”

“Like I’d read in the paper… acquitted,” Zeke sniffed and went into deep thought. “Great jury. The evidence was overwhelming, but when you’re rich…”

“He wanted forgiveness for what he did. That’s when I knew… it wasn’t a ‘game’. It was real,” Casey said. Another shiver made him curl up and lie down again. “He was using me as some kind of ‘channel’ to her, and it makes me sick.”

“As well it should, Casey. But you’re safe, okay? He ain’t coming back. Sam, Oscar and Stephen made sure of that.”

“Did they… hurt him?”

Zeke stared at his lap, picking at a loose thread of his pajama pants. “’Not sure. Probably. They took him outside. I can only think that they used the alleyway to ‘discuss’ a few things.”

“Right.” Casey took a heavy drag of his cigarette and let it out slowly. “No one knows, do they?”

“I didn’t announce anything--and no one really saw Vic leave with the guards,” Zeke replied. “They’ll ask about it, though. Be sure of that. Some things were noticeable, especially since you were taken to the office and didn’t come back into the parlor afterwards.”

Casey turned his head to look at Zeke. “I don’t want to be noticeable. I’m sick of it.”

A small smile crossed Zeke’s lips and he shrugged. “Kinda your job to be, though,” he replied.

“No, not that.”

“I know.”

A hard swallow rolled down Casey’s throat. “Thank you, though. It was starting to irk me, what he was doing. I didn’t… wanna be with him anymore,” Casey said. “It was so scary… and embarrassing. The way he dressed me, how Sam and Oscar saw…”

“We’ve all been put in situations like that. Too many guys have too many weird wants,” Zeke said. “What Sam and Oscar saw, they’ve seen ten-thousand times.”

“Yea? What about guys that have molested, fucked and killed their own daughters? They seen that?” Casey said, practically spitting the words. Before Zeke could form a reply, Casey tensed his jaw and went on. “How about you? Have you run into someone like that?”

Zeke bent forward, arms on his thighs with a hand raised to scratch his scalp. “No. But I was almost killed. Remember?”

Casey sniffed and looked away. He had a point, but he still didn’t know. “I feel disgusting. I would’ve rather been beaten--even getting pissed on would’ve felt better.”

Zeke made a solemn nod, then reached over to Casey to place a hand on his hip. “He won’t be coming back, like I said.”

“But he was here already,” Casey said. A sniffle escaped him and he closed his eyes. “And he did stuff…”

“Shh.” Zeke swallowed then lay down next to Casey, facing him. With one arm going under his head, he put the other over Casey’s body. “We all have your back. The guards, Stephen, everyone. When I fuckin’ realized why I recognized him, I almost ran up myself.”

“Yea?”

“Yea. Stephen saw and stopped me,” Zeke replied, a tiny smile on his lips. “’Wanted to be the hero again, I guess.”

Smiling back--just a little--Casey snuggled closer to Zeke and put his hands upon his chest. Zeke held him, rubbing his back in slow circles until Casey felt his body turn into gelatin and he drifted off.


~*~


The first thing Casey noticed was that the bed seemed warmer than usual. His lashes fluttered and he opened his eyes to find the reason why.

“Zeke?” he mumbled. The young man was there, his body lining Casey’s, arm still draped over him. Casey cleared his throat. “Zeke, wake up.”

Zeke jolted a little then opened his eyes. “Casey?”

“You fell asleep here,” Casey said.

“Yea?” Zeke said. At Casey’s nod, he hoisted himself up onto his arm, yawned and sat. “Must’ve been tired.”

“Yea,” Casey murmured. He lay still, watching as Zeke stretched, reached to his cigarettes and lit one. He turned to Casey, his eyebrows raised and holding the pack out to him. Though his throat was raspy from the smoking-binge he’d had before bed, Casey nodded and took one. Zeke lit up the both of them and sat back. “They’re all gonna ask what happened,” Casey said after his first drag of the day.

“And you don’t have to tell them shit,” Zeke replied.

“I’ll probably tell Noah.”

“He’s different.”

“Yea.” Casey sucked back another puff and let it out in a huff. “Zeke?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

Zeke frowned a little. “For what?”

“I guess… reading the newspaper,” Casey said with a tiny smile. Zeke chuckled.

“Hey, you get to know stuff, doing that.”

“I think I’ll join you from now on.”

Zeke smiled, stuck his cigarette in his lips and went over to the bureau. He began dressing in lazy, slow movements, Casey staring at each one. There was something to the sound of soft cotton pants being tossed on the bed, and the way someone as tall as Zeke would work their slacks on. His legs were strong and long, and Casey liked them. Very much. They disappeared within the black fabric, along with the other things Casey enjoyed looking at. Zeke sighed and turned his head, catching Casey’s stare. “What?” he asked.

“’Just like watching you dress. Is that bad?” Casey coyly asked.

“Pfft. C’mon, get ready for breakfast--I’m starving,” Zeke said.

“So go down without me.”

A sly grin formed on Zeke’s lips; he sat on the bed, put a knee up and continued smoking as he replied, “Maybe I wanna watch you.”

Ooh. Casey’s heartbeat picked up and he sucked in his own smile; he stood up and realized--perhaps Zeke had, in fact, watched him dress before, but he’d been explicit this time around. Casey put his legs over the side of the bed and went to stand. That was when a sudden dull pain reached him, swelling up from his backside. ‘Oh… no,’ he thought, remembering the night before. The last thing he wanted was for Zeke to see the redness of his skin, or even bruises. It felt as if there could be some. Fighting to keep his smile on, Casey went to the bureau, removed his chosen outfit and turned his back to the wall behind him.

Zeke didn’t say anything--he just stared as Casey had done to him. Waves of excitement rushed over Casey’s body, though it felt silly to feel. They’d done this before, never mind the fact that Casey had stripped in front of countless men. But it was different; wonderful.

When he was set to rights, Zeke cocked an eyebrow and stood. His cigarette was snuffed out and he slung an arm over Casey’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go tell everyone to mind their own fucking business.”


~*~

For those concerned of squickness:

The day starts out jovial, with everyone teasing about how Zeke needed to carry a drunken Casey to the bedroom the night before. Casey chooses not to wear shoes during 'work', which makes a few customers tickle him to death.

A new client, Victor, shows up, not wanting to enter the room and make his wants known to everyone. Zeke comes across them however and gives Victor an odd look, but leaves them be. His wants requires a small-framed boy, so Stephen has Casey go with him, giving warnings and letting him know that Sam will be close-by to prevent anything getting too rough. It turns out that Victor wants Casey to crossdress, name him 'Nancy' and have Casey call him 'Daddy'. Creepiness ensues, and Casey realizes that this incest-play is actually playing out real events. When things start getting a bit rough, Casey reminds him of what's not allowed, etc. Victor breaks down, upset and wanting "forgiveness". Sam then shows up with Oscar, telling the man that he has to leave.

The next scene switches to Casey in bed, stunned and shaken, as Stephen revealed that Zeke had recognized him as a man he'd read about/seen in the newspaper, who'd been recently acquitted in a case where he'd been accused of molesting, raping and murdering his daughter. Zeke had panicked, told Stephen and that was that. Zeke shows up and comforts Casey; they fall asleep together. When they wake the next morning, Casey enjoys watching him undress/get dressed, so Zeke pays him back by having HIM undress for him. ;)