Title: Demands of the Flesh

Author: Rebecca Michaels

Series/Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating: NC-17

Date: 15 August 1999

Archive: okay to the Slashkinks archive; anywhere else, ask first

No other warnings necessary here, right? 'Cause we're all adults and we're all kinky.and we love it that way! Onward!

DEMANDS OF THE FLESH

by Rebecca Michaels
© August 1999

It was dangerous to do this, far too dangerous on so many levels neither of them really ever tried to think it all the way through. There was no point in doing so because, no matter how dangerous it was, they weren't going to stop. They had tried, especially in the very beginning when they had been foolish enough to think that what was in their hearts and minds would be all they needed.

But it hadn't been, and it still wasn't, and when things got to the point that nothing was RIGHT between them, nothing was working, they surrendered. They said, "One last time," or "It doesn't really mean anything," and drove to Seattle or flew to San Diego where, at least, there was very little chance of them being recognized. Or of their faces being remembered well enough to be noticed in the mundane surroundings of Cascade.

And it was very unlikely that anybody in the club would pay the slightest attention to their faces, despite Blair's extraordinary beauty. In the dim, strobe punctuated light, it was far more likely people would watch his body.

Dressed in a pair of jeans so old and faded, they may as well have been tissue paper, he danced with joyous abandon to the pounding drive of the music, the tight fabric lovingly clinging to every line of his body. It was so tight that you didn't have to be a sentinel to be able to count the hairs on his balls, and it showed off the impressive hard-on clearly. If anybody's gaze made it above that, they would most likely not make it past the half-opened sapphire silk shirt that Jim knew brightened his partner's eyes to something just short of twilight intense, or the glint of gold metal pinching the ruddy nubs half-hidden in the wiry chest hair.

It was far more likely that they would remember him, the menacing man who lurked in the shadow at the edge of the floor, the barely seen man that Blair danced for. And there was no mistaking that it was for him that the erotic vision performed. No matter how wild his gyrations, how freely he moved, he was never far from Jim. Never beyond a quick pounce or long-armed grab from the tall, ripped man who wore black leather head to toe as if it were his native skin, and whose sky-sharp eyes promised that he was Death if anybody else dared come too close to what was his.

He was the world around which Blair orbited, a satellite whose path veered first away, then arrowed in daringly close, as if to scorch itself on the edge of the atmosphere of danger around him. Or maybe to entice his world to forget its own steady trek and frolic with him, free at last from the restrictions of social gravity.

But he could not, would not, despite the massive hard-on made glaringly obvious by the snug leather. While this club was not known for trouble, it *was* known for being raw, defiant of the conventions that guided most lives. So Jim stood with his back to a wall, guarding Blair, and watching the angry, lustful expressions and the jealous, desperate ones for signs that the owners might act on their rising passions.

It was only when Blair rested safe in the circle of his arms during a slow tune, rubbing enticingly over him, that he would relax, and that only enough to drop kisses on the mad tumble of curls or to share a drink with him. Blair drank nothing from glass or bottle when they were out like this; too many despairing men had tried to use drugs to obtain their goals. After the first few times, the younger man had begun taking liquid only from Jim's mouth, both of them relishing in the silent stamp of ownership the habit conveyed to the hollow-eyed onlookers.

When the evening wore down to nearly nothing, when most of the watchers had either abandoned the torture of not having and fled, or turned to their own to make do as best as they could, Blair began watching them, slyly, from under lowered lashes. Eventually he chose one, one who seemed shy and admiring rather than greedy, and danced with him, coaxing the fortunate man to give himself up to the music as freely as he did. When the song was done, he laughingly thanked his accomplice, and chose another, then another, then another, never leading any of them on during their mad gavotte, but not hesitating to let them admire the goods, either.

In time, checking with Jim with a glance that held an abundance of information only the big cop could read, Blair slow danced with one instead of returning to the haven of his partner's arms as he had earlier. That was Jim's cue to gravitate to the back, to a dark corner near the exit, becoming unseen to anyone but the one person who knew how to find him. Sitting in a straight backed chair, he waited, heart racing and throat tight, despite his air of impassive unconcern.

With soft murmurs and careful touches, Blair guided his selection toward Jim, reassuring the fortunate man as needed. With a few deft caresses, as only Blair could, he brought his new companion to full readiness, practically sending him into a convulsion of need, then murmured, "I want to suck you off. He'll let me as long as you understand it's only that. Nothing more."

Shy, uncertain of himself (Blair's favorite type), the young man, blond, fair, and unfinished looking somehow, as if he hadn't finished growing despite his age, flicked a worried look at Jim. Stone-faced, Jim didn't react. "Right, he's really going to let me plow your face."

"Well," Blair said honestly, but grinning winningly, "There is a catch. He's going to be fucking the other end. As long as he's doing that, you can use my mouth."

"You are shitting me!" The blond skittered a footstep away, as if to bolt, and Blair lost his smile.

"I understand," he said so softly it was a wonder even Jim heard him over the slamming beat of the music. "Thank you for dancing with me, though. You were wonderful, and I'm sorry you won't let me show you how much I appreciated it."

Blushing, the blond studied his shoe top for a moment, then risked another glance at Jim. "Uh, he'll really, uh, I mean while you... man, that's kinky!"

"No," Blair contradicted smilingly. "That's having someone accept you as you are. You have no idea how lucky I am to have that."

A shadow of grief flitted through the pale eyes, and the young man answered, "More than you'd know."

Instantly Blair was contrite, soothing a palm over a hunched shoulder. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to drag up bad memories."

For an answer an arm was looped hesitantly around his waist. "It's okay." There was a pause, then he offered uncertainly, "I don't know if I can with him watching."

"Want to at least try?" Blair semi-cuddled his date, unobtrusively angling them both so that he stood with his back to Jim, directly between wide-flung legs. He nuzzled into the light five o'clock shadow at the young man's jawline, doing it again playfully when it elicited a nearly laughed protest. The tickling went on a minute more, then became more serious, and Blair nipped the man, drawing a groan this time.

Hands busy at the zipper, thoroughly distracting the other man by feeling him up as he did, Blair backed them up, and Jim caught his lover by the hips to guide him the rest of the way into his lap. There was a momentary fumble as he ripped out a hole for himself in the frail fabric of the jeans, and another as he freed himself through the special velcro closure in the leather over his crotch. Then he was sliding into Blair, entering him smoothly to the root, the way opened for him earlier as part of their preparation for this evening.

That one thrust was all he allowed them, though, and he dug his fingers into the flesh over Blair's hipbones, forcing him to stay in place. There would be fingerprint bruises there tomorrow, he knew, and looked forward to seeing them, comparing them to ones left before. The flesh around his cock shimmied in a way only his partner seemed to be capable of, stroking the hardness maddeningly, but he didn't yield to the seductive massage.

Once seated, held securely by his lover, Blair tugged the stranger close, agile fingers dipping in to take out the short, sturdy erection he'd been teasing in the few moments it took for Jim to penetrate him. Sheathing it in the condom he'd slipped from his shirt pocket as he sat, he wasted no time in drawing it into his mouth, teasing the head with his tongue as he did.

With a strangled cry the blond rammed forward, but Blair dealt with it easily, letting the momentum carry it all the way down his throat. The young man was going to be fast, Jim decided, listening to his frantic heartbeat as a way of distracting himself from the wonderful things happening to his shaft. He'd learned it was impossible to tell how any of these men were going to react to his partner's talented mouth. Some would simply stand there, as if afraid that if they moved he'd quit, and they'd never get another chance. Some would damn near rape it, going at it as if they'd never had a blow job before and never would again.

It didn't matter to Blair; he loved it all, went with it effortlessly, pulling screams and sighs out of each one as efficiently as he sucked their cream out. This time he came himself when Blondie shot, as he often did on the first one, though there was only a delicious tightening of the hot channel and metallic tang of semen in the air to show for it.

When the young man trembled, putting out a hand to steady himself on the wall, Blair released him carefully with a last lick, and tucked the softened dick loosely back into his pants, rubber and all. "Thank you," he murmured, smiling up at the shaking man. "That was wonderful."

With a pat and little shove, he sent his stunned victim on his way, then leaned back into Jim as indolently as a cat, lids drooped half mast over his sultry eyes, waiting for the inevitable. It didn't take long.

The sight of the obviously sated man, pants still open, stumbling from the dark corner where everybody had seen Blair lead him, enticed another man toward the same spot. Hope and curiosity warring, this one, a much older person who wore his years well, took in the view of the partners still coupled together and nearly fled. But a crook of a beckoning finger and sexy smirk from Blair was all it took; the guy was in front of them, feeding his cock to Blair in short, sharp jabs and manfully ignoring Jim.

His own lashes down to cover the insane glitter in his eyes, Jim watched the action in front of him, the vibrations of it echoing through his own body as if he were the one giving head. The man's scent and pheromones hung in the air so heavily, he could nearly taste it, too. Certainly it was more than what Blair was getting through the latex. Not that it made any difference to his partner. His head bobbed enthusiastically as he obviously relished having the slender tool in his mouth. Too soon for the three of them, the newcomer finished with a guttural yelp, and he pulled away, backing off as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

The next man was already lurking, touching himself through his pants and so ready Jim didn't think he'd be much good. Not that it mattered. By now word had percolated through the music and the mass with a whisper and a nudge giving it momentum. Men were lining up, some because they didn't believe it, some because they had to believe it, staying far enough back that it wasn't too obvious they were waiting. Jim could see them if he chose, but he focused on his partner and the man using him now.

Painfully alert despite the continuous throb around his hard-on, he fought letting himself get lost in it, lost in Blair's ever increasing heat and hunger. His lover squirmed restlessly, grinding down with minuscule flexings of his thigh and ass muscles into the lap supporting him. Jim knew he couldn't take much of that, but it was part of the rules. This whoring went on only as long as Jim didn't come. Blair could as many times as he wanted, though he generally only lost it with that first, sweet, carefully chosen man.

The very first time, Jim hadn't been able to bear watching as his mate and guide gave into the uncontrollable need, and had almost lost his erection completely. Now, though, he had to fight not to give in too soon, not to deprive them both of the opportunities hovering just beyond their shadowed lair.

Three lasted only a minute or two, four was nice and thick and Blair took his time with that one, and after that they all blended into a dizzying collage of scent, sounds and bodies whose only importance was that they were driving his lover insane. With each one Blair rocked more energetically on the living staff impaling him, deep-throated and sucked his current toy that much harder, until Jim would withstand the stimulation no longer.

With a warning that was no more than a involuntary lift of his hips, he let Blair know, and for a few seconds trusted his partner to their safety as he lost some of the scalding urgency inside himself by pouring it into Blair. Hiding his panting by making it shallow and high in his chest, he recuperated only as long as it took his lover to bring off the man fucking his mouth.

Standing abruptly, taking Blair to his feet with him, he quickly put himself away and bundled the smaller man out the back door. They were both shaky, but they'd had practice in making their getaways before the line waiting for their turn at the suck slut could catch on that the party was over.

They were in their rental, on their way back to their motel before the crowd knew what had happened. Daring a fast peek at his partner, Jim tightened his hands onto the steering wheel of the car, ordering himself to keep on track until they were safely in their room. It was a necessary command; he *loved* it when his lover looked like he did now.

Red lips, swollen and tender from being much used, invited more use, and the tiny dart of tongue out to test and taste that only added to their appeal. The silk shirt was splattered randomly with sweat and spit, making it cling provocatively to the skin underneath, and there was an occasional glistening droplet caught in the curly chest hairs. The front of his pants was stained, and more wetness spread from the seeping crack of his ass, soaking the upper legs. He smelled of seed and sex and heat, and it was all Jim could do not to pull over into the nearest dark alley and add his own markers.

Hands flickering over himself, teasing and tantalizing at random, Blair asked dreamily. "How many?"

"Seven," Jim answered shortly, feeling a jolt in his still hard dick.

"Seven," Blair repeated, shuddering hard into climax a moment later.

That was more than he could bear, but the hotel was right there, thank whatever, and he pulled into the parking lot, brakes complaining. The car was still bouncing from its sudden stop when he threw open the door and hustled Blair out with him, practically running to their room. They were inside in a heart beat, and Jim ripped the clothes off his lover with barely leashed violence. Unresisting, Blair let him do as he needed, toeing off the loafers he wore only for this reason without being told.

They had readied the bed earlier, when they had prepared themselves, and all it took was a single push to position Blair in the middle of it, the way Jim wanted. The leather restraints were fastened around the smaller man's wrists and ankles in moments, leaving him spread-eagled and vulnerable, cock jutting up arrogantly as if it hadn't just spewed.

Once his lover was *there*, ready and helpless, some of the urgency bled away from Jim, and he could take a second to catch his breath. Hard to do since there didn't seem to be much air in the room, but he had practice at this too, and he forced himself to work his lungs slowly. A deep inhale, a deeper exhale, and he had garnered enough to control to be able to saunter leisurely around the perimeter of the bed, testing the give of the bonds on his lover.

Blair's eyes followed him, shining with a mixture of dread and longing. For both of them, this was the hard part. Necessary as it was, *wanted* as it was, they both feared the punishment that Blair would take for his whoring. Jim lived in terror of the day that what he could do wouldn't be enough for his lover; Blair lived in fear of the day when Jim couldn't bear doing it any longer. He had to have the pain that was the price for satisfying his lust, unable to live with the guilt of not being able to give Jim the faith and fidelity he deserved. And Jim, gods forgive him, had to have an outlet for the unreasoning anger at his mate's unstoppable appetite.

That they had learned to take pleasure in the punishment seemed to be a fitting collar for both of them.

Jim stretched out the anticipation, listening to Blair's heartbeat and the blood whooshing madly throughout the tense form. Judging the moment carefully, he climbed up onto the bare mattress with his captive, sitting astride him just below the begging shaft.

He back-handed Blair, gauging his strength so that he wouldn't leave a mark, but snapping the curly-haired head to the side, making Blair blink away tears and easing the knot in his own chest.

"One," Blair gritted out.

Six more to go, one punishment for each of the seven cocks he had serviced, and Jim gave him the next immediately, yanking off the nipple clamps viciously.

"Two," he gasped, pulling at the straps on his wrists as if to escape from more abuse to those sensitive spots.

Three and four were fist blows to either side of the inside thigh, given in rapid succession and leaving purpling bruises that would last for days. Blair wheezed out his count from a chest emptied by the pain.

Scooting down so that he could sit on his heels between the obscenely opened legs, Jim looked over his handiwork, considering his next move. His hard-on pushed angrily at the leather confining it, wanting its turn at battering, and a red haze was creeping into his mind, making concentration difficult. There was a certain amount of risk in lingering too long at this; it was too satisfying to the animal that lived in the heart of him.

Clamping down on himself brutally, he decided he needed to make a permanent mark, this time, and bent his head to the smooth flow of muscle immediately below the hip. He bit slowly, letting his teeth tear through in slow motion, until there was a tang of blood on his tongue. Under him he could feel Blair fight - whether to get away or stay motionless he couldn't tell - and agonized cries were caught and held in his captive's chest.

Sitting up, licking at the red staining his lips and chin, he reached for the ball gag on the bed stand, holding it up for Blair to see. His lover stared at it balefully. He hated a gag, especially this one since it was unforgiving to his overly sensitized mouth, but he couldn't always guarantee his silence, a major problem when staying at a hotel decent enough for Jim's sensibilities. Much as Blair hated it, Jim loved this gag, loved the very thing that his partner hated about it. Regardless, he gave the choice, and Blair accepted it with a reluctant nod.

Jim placed it carefully, hands shaking from the effort of holding back enough to do so safely. Once done, he wasted no more time, but doled out the next punishment. Counting '6' for Blair as he did, he flicked the furiously erect dick, right under the ridge of the crown, sending the bound man into a flurry of panicked fighting with the straps holding him. It did no good, of course; and eventually he had to stop the battle and allow his body to rest.

Jim waited through it, not so patiently, but well enough that Blair had no doubt he was in control, for at least a while longer. Eager now for the seventh and final punishment so that he could finally relieve the screaming monster in his pants, the big man slid off the bed, automatically giving Blair as reassuring pat as he did.

It didn't help the wide-eyed stare or anxiously beating heart any. The last was always the worst, designed to drain off the last of the fury so that they could live and love together without recriminations or nursed grudges. It was always to his asshole, because, though Jim knew it was irrational of him, that part of Blair had always symbolized the unrelenting hold his lover had had over him from the start. He couldn't live without possession of that hidden treasure, couldn't bear to give it up to someone else, but at times he hated needing it so very badly.

And now was when he gave vent to that hatred, always finding a different but suitable punishment for the defenseless hole. In the past he had bitten it, burned it with hot wax, fist fucked it 'til only the tiniest thread of sanity had kept him from actually hurting Blair.

Tonight he was going to use it to strike right to his faithless slut's heart, bring him to his belly in groveling humiliation, and the very concept of what he was about to do had Jim shaking violently with suppressed lust.

Mystifying his prisoner somewhat, he put a cock ring on Blair's seriously distended dick, wanting the finale for the night to be completely at his command. Standing where his lover could easily see him, Jim floated his hands down his own body, caressing himself in imitation of Blair's actions earlier. It wasn't for him; he couldn't possibly have been more ready. It was to taunt the helpless man with what he couldn't touch.

The supple, fragrant leather he wore skimmed under his palms, making the hairs on his arms shiver erect, his nipples aching pleasantly from the cold wash. Scooping up Blair's discarded clamps, he fastened them on the tight points, letting the material over them act as a cushion to the highly sensitized bits.

Moaning through the gag, Blair arched toward him in mute plea, but Jim ignored it and reached down to finally rip away the codpiece that held his cock at bay. It sprang out angrily, dipping and weaving in the bite of the relatively cooler air of the room. Giving it a quick stroke, Jim by-passed it in favor of giving his balls a hard tug to kill a portion of the need burning inside them. He hissed at the pain, but it did the job, and he decided to reward himself and further torment his whore. Putting a foot on the bed so Blair could see clearly, he reached further back to finger his own ass lightly, not doing more than waking it up to possibilities.

Blair watched avidly, hips unconsciously following the timing of Jim's fingers, moaning deep in his throat. "Want that, bitch?" the big man crooned, slipping deeper into himself. "Want to mount me, fill me with that aching piece of meat of yours?"

"No?" he mocked the muffled grunts. "Want yours fucked instead? Hard, fast, long so that you can get hard again from the ache of it a year from now? Pity, if that's the case, whore. That greedy ass of yours can stay empty tonight. And your dick is good for nothing."

Reaching into the nightstand Jim took out the dildo that he'd put there, lubing it up while making his opening wink obscenely at Blair. His captive whimpered, pulling at his restraints in an instinctive bid to claim what he considered his. Blatantly angling so that his slut would have to see everything, Jim inched the huge toy into himself, provocatively taking his time.

Sighing in relief - it felt so damned good to do *anything* that promised climax - Jim seated the tool all the way in and gave himself a second to adjust. His foot reported that something felt pretty nice, and he looked down to see that several locks of his bitch's hair were falling over it as Blair tried to at least get a better look at what happening.

"Might as well get an eyeful, slut," he said bluntly. "That's all you're getting." With that he started plunging the dildo in and out, riding it with growing pleasure as it stretched and worked his hole, the plastic harder and harsher on him than a real cock could be. Not touching his dick, he rolled and played with his balls with his free hand, tugged on the nipple clamps, letting himself revel in the painful/wonderful sensations charging over his nerves.

Distantly he heard a pathetic noise; he focused on the upturned face with some difficulty. The blue eyes were insane, tears of frustration at the corners of them as the head flailed wildly. Blair was fighting the straps holding him with manic strength, gouging his own flesh with the effort he was putting into touching Jim somehow.

Taking momentary pity, Jim unbuckled the gag, casually tossing it aside. "Not so easy, to sit back and let what's yours be taken, is it whore? Consider it '7'," and he spat contemptuously at Blair's straining cock.

"Please," Blair begged huskily, "Please, anything. I'll do anything, you can do anything, but let me make you come. Please, lover, please."

"Why?" Jim hissed cruelly. "What can you do for me that this piece of plastic can't do as well?" He jammed the dildo in as hard as he could, not bothering to hide the jolt he got from it glancing off his prostate. "It's bigger than you are, harder than you are, will stay that way as long as I want it, and I don't have to share it with anybody."

"You can't hurt it," Blair whispered, cheeks wet with tears and shame. "Can't make it bleed. Want me to beg for you to hurt me? I can do that. Want to hear me beg, suck down the suffering you want to give me, then offer myself up for more?"

Taking off the gag was a mistake, Jim realized, his body singing with the erotic promise behind the soft words. That mouth could talk him into anything, always could. Frantically he cast around for a way to silence it again, and, with a leer just short of mean, he though of one.

Suddenly he swung a leg over his whore's head, sitting over it so that his asshole, dildo and all were rubbing on the pouting lips. "Eat me out," he ordered, taking his cock in hand and jacking it. You want to give me something I can't get for myself, use that tongue of yours. Yeah, like that, bitch. Lick me. Right there."

The agile tool lapped and sucked all around the wide-stretched muscle, even bumping at the vibrator in it to send it deeper into Jim's channel. Loving it, releasing himself to the undeniable crash of the climax burning along his nerves, Jim took his pleasure mindlessly, writhing on the plastic in him, the mouth on him until all the anger, frustration, grief, and pain boiled out of him with his seed, mysteriously vanishing as it left his cock. He shook with the violence of its leaving, finding more pleasure in its departure than in the draining of his sacs.

Somehow the part of him that loved Blair most took control of his hand long enough to flip off the cock ring, and the smell of his lover's semen mixed with his own.

When they were done, when he was at last sane again, he sagged bonelessly onto Blair's trembling body, pulling the wrist restraints free of the bedframe as he turned, so he could hug and be hugged. Sobbing into the sweat-soaked curls, he muttered over and over what they both needed to hear.

"Love you, Chief. Love you. My guide, my mate, my spouse. Love you, love you."

"I know baby, I know," Blair whispered back brokenly, "I know."

finis