Notes: Stories come from the strangest things, sometimes. A while back I posted to the list that I didn't feel that sex was gratuitous in my work; that every encounter had a point, if only to help establish a mood or feel for the relationship. Then, so saying, I wondered if I *could* do a totally, completely plotless, pointless sex scene. While working on it, I got into a conversation with a friend about 'buttons' and that gray land between plain vanilla and the sexual magic of a true Mistress/Master. With that in mind, I set out to write this with the intent of hitting every one of those in between buttons I could. So, we come to the warnings:

Warnings: b/d - but so damned mild it would bore a true devotee. No one gets tied up in this, nor does pain enter into the equation. However, someone is absolutely in control of this encounter, and if you aren't comfortable with this concept, don't go here.

PS: No, I couldn't do it; a bit of a plot snuck in while I wasn't looking.

And, as always, thanks to my betas for their work on this - though I don't recall hearing any complaints on the job this time <beg>
 

Black Fire by Legion
 

It took nearly five minutes for Blair to stop staring nervously at the door to the motel room and knock on it. After waiting the required slow count of ten - wondering if he was going to panic and run the entire time - he rapped once more.

His customer opened it immediately, wearing nothing but a robe, but then stood staring at him without moving aside to let Blair in. Thinking that he would swear the obstacle in his throat was his heart, except that he could feel *that* clearly pounding on his ribs, Blair managed to say clearly, "Phillip sent me."

The john didn't respond immediately, but his eyes swept once dismissively over Blair's body. "You're not what I ordered."

Mentally throwing himself into it, Blair smiled as sweetly and sexily as he knew how and answered, "I'm better."

Again the customer looked him over, this time taking his time. Against his will Blair felt his cheeks warm. He'd heard of being visually undressed before, but this was the first time in his life he'd been aware as it happened to *him.* Wishing he had taken time to change from his usual flannels, well-worn jeans and sneakers, he waited for the verdict.

"You'll do," he was told shortly as the - no, *his* john stepped back and indicated his welcome into the room with a sweep of his hand.

Moving much more confidently than he felt, Blair stepped over the threshold, keeping his eyes on the other man. Once inside, though, he stood indecisively by the door, waiting for guidance. With a slight twist of the lips that couldn't really be called a smile the tall, buff man said, "First time."

"No... not really. I mean, I've been with someone."

"Someone?"

Impelled by the command in the clear blue eyes watching him, Blair confessed. "One someone. When I was eighteen, there was a man, and I loved him very much, and when he died before I was nineteen, I decided I never wanted to be hurt like that again. I haven't chanced it since."

"I see. A lover. This," and the man indicated the contents of the room with a sharp jab of his chin. "has nothing to do with love. Just lust. Just need, hunger."

Taking a deep breath, Blair held it for a minute then let it hiss out slowly. "Dangerous need. Jim, I can't believe you're taking a risk like this."

Jim Ellison leaned against the wall, and surveyed his partner from head to toe once more. "It's not much of one. Philip is an ex-cop who gave up trying to deny what he was. His boys work for him by choice - maybe the only one they've really had a chance to make in their unwanted, forgotten lives so far. They're all of legal age, clean, saving money, and going to school in the day. He's taking care of them, trying to help them get out of the life."

"I thought he was your lover; someone you were keeping hidden because neither of you could afford to be openly gay." Blair whispered.

"Ahh," Jim said thoughtfully. "That's why the questions about my preferences a while back. I knew you suspected something."

"Wasn't hard: phone conversations that ended when I came in the room, you unexpectedly spending the night away from home, a week's worth of skipping lunch and eating macaroni and cheese for dinner. Thought he was someone special, and you were using the money to go off with him, treat him nice. Why didn't you just tell me?"

For the first time Jim broke eye contact and looked off into the distance. "I don't think you understand what I want in here, Sandburg."

"I have some idea," Blair told him dryly. "Philip told me to tell you that the usual fee for 'damages' would be applied, even if I were voluntarily substituting."

The eyes came back defiantly. "None of the boys that come in here get hurt."

"I know. I talked to the guy I'm filling in for - you just fuck them numb. He's a bit pissed at getting bumped, by the way; apparently they look forward to servicing you."

"How much did it cost you?" The little twist of a smile was back.

"Let's just say we're *both* going to be eating macaroni and cheese for a while."

"Why?" The honesty in the question came straight from the heart.

Slowly, inching forward as he did, Blair answered, "You get so tense and angry, sometimes, then abruptly mellow out after one of your all night absences. I kinda decided your lover was hurting you; picking a fight then making you spend money on him to make up. It made me angry at first that someone would treat you like that. Then it made me jealous that you'd love someone enough to let them do that to you." Blair paused as Jim's eyes closed briefly in pain.

"You deserve better, and one night, listening to you make plans on the phone to see him again, I realized I wanted to be the one to show you that. Not wanting to, trying hard never to again, I saw that I'd fallen in love. With you. I wanted to ignore it; tried to." Blair was close enough now to lay one hand on Jim's arm, and did so as if expecting the contact to hurt.

"This past week you've been pure hell; I knew there was going to be another phone call. I just couldn't stand it any more. I tapped the fucking phone, thinking I'd find out who my competition was so I could blow him out of the fucking water. Imagine my surprise when I got here and found your 'lover' was a pimp who delivers some very high class rentboys for very select appetites."

Studying the hand on his arm, Jim said, "So why substitute yourself?" Again blue eyes bored into Blair's. "Unless you share those.... appetites."

'I don't fucking want anybody else to touch you, Ellison. Don't you get it?!" Blair told him fiercely. "I have to at least try to give you what you need, damn it. Your 'companions' told me that if they make you happy, they get double the money. And if they don't, you never use them again. Well, I've got better motivation. Try me; see if you can find something better than a periodic diet of macaroni and cheese!"

They stood poised on the knife-edge of Jim's hard glare, both trying for a balance they could live with. Finally, with a single, measured nod Jim agreed.

"If you say stop, mean it, because I will, and you will leave immediately after. Otherwise, do as you're told. Now go into the shower and clean up, using the soap and shampoo that's already there." In an oddly tender touch that warred with his aloof words and face, he brushed a stray lock back over Blair's ear with the back of his fingers . "Don't dress and come straight back to me when you're finished."

Knees wobbling in reaction, Blair went to do as he was told.
 
 

Standing in front of Jim, still slightly damp from his shower, Blair waited, eyes down, strangely unable to look directly at or speak to the man who had bought him for the night. It seemed to suit Jim; he walked around the nude young man, not touching but obviously admiring.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Jim finally traced the line of his collarbone. Still Jim didn't say anything. He took a ribbon of leather out of the pocket of his robe and showed it to Blair with a questioning eyebrow. Staring at it, some obstacle choking him again, it was Blair's turn to nod. Proudly he lifted his head to bare his throat, but Jim surprised him by placing the material over his brow and tying it in place at the back of his head. Blair could feel the loose ends shift through his hair when he moved his head.

Fingers busily feathering a random pattern over bare skin, Jim moved his touch over Blair's face, left shoulder and onto his upper arm. Another ribbon was produced and tied there, the ends again left dangling. The maddening sensation of the dancing touch went further down the arm, stopped at the left wrist for a ribbon, tickled the palm, and faded onto the left hip.

As he knelt in front of Blair, Jim's finger pads skimmed through the downy hair over that hip, crossing the stomach, deftly dodging the erection bouncing randomly there. Going down the right thigh where another ribbon was tied, he continued down to the ankle for a ribbon and a quick, strong massage of the foot that was shocking in it's contrasting firmness.

Putting the right foot down, Jim lifted the left and reduced Blair to a moaning statue by exploring it quickly and thoroughly with his tongue. Then he carefully put it down, beribboned the ankle, and worked his arousing caresses back up, crossing at the hip again to the right side. This time only the right wrist was ornamented, but the palm was treated to a long, biting kiss.

When he stood at long last, fingertips resting on the right shoulder, he waited patiently until Blair opened his eyes. Lifting a ribbon, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Blair croaked.

With delicate movements the ribbon was tied around his throat, the loose tails teasing the center of his back with their swaying. Jim smiled as he let them trail through his fingers, and then opened the front of his robe to show his bare chest. Blair couldn't help his gasp: Jim's nipples were furiously erect and held that way by gilt clamps with leather strands dangling from them.

As Blair watched, Jim removed them and transferred them to the equally upright nubs on Blair's own chest. It was almost too much for him. "Cockring," he begged. "Please, I'm.. I'm losing it here."

Shrugging, Jim knelt again to tie a broader band around Blair's slim waist so that it rested just below his navel, spare length wandering down his left leg. "Come. Go ahead, whenever you need to, as long as it doesn't stop me from taking my pleasure."

Grabbing his cock, Blair squeezed just below the head viciously. "Not yet, not yet," he told himself sternly. "Not before you've even *touched* me."

Laughing softly, Jim stood and ran a single finger over the leaking cock head Blair was literally choking. "Such a whore," he taunted. "You love your work, don't you?"

"If all my johns looked like you and had your sense of touch," Blair shot back, "I'd never get out of the damn bed *and* I'd be rich enough not to have to charge!"

Still laughing, Jim grabbed the dangling strings on a nipple ring and tugged Blair toward a gymnastic horse that had the handles removed. "Bend over. You might want to grip the hand-holds near the supports."

As he did as Jim instructed, Blair discovered why. He had to stretch up on tiptoe ever so slightly to get his stomach firmly over the wonderfully soft leather pillion. His cock rubbed on it as he tried to find his balance in his exposed position, tormenting him.

"Look at that little ass wiggle; you'd let me just shove it in, wouldn't you?"

The look Blair flashed over his shoulder had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love. "You won't chance hurting me, even if I feel ready enough to take on a horse."

"Not quite." Jim muttered, but Blair wasn't sure what he meant by it. Before he could question, Jim bent and gave Blair his mouth on the blushed pucker between the pale cheeks.

Nearly drilling through the leather as he arched his back, Blair howled at the intimate contact and spread his legs as wide as he could. The tiny cat laps Jim was covering the vulnerable opening with wasn't enough; Blair tried to push back to capture the darting tongue. He couldn't, not without falling off his perch. Helpless, all he could do was cry out.

"Stick it in me!" he demanded, "Now, now, now, now - shove that hot tongue inside, do it!"

Maddeningly, Jim stopped completely and stood, slapping one of Blair's ass cheeks as he did. It stung only enough to startle Blair into silence. "I paid good money for you, whore. I tell *you*, *you* don't tell me." He slapped the other cheek with the same force. "Ask me."

"P, p, please," Blair stuttered, trying to steady his spinning mind. "P, put your mouth back, please!"

With another spank, Jim instructed, "Plain English, whore. What do you want?"

"Oh, oh... rim me?"

"Close." Jim struck each cheek, one more time, making Blair squirm onto the material under him, whimpering as much in pleasure as anything else.

"Please, please." Blair gulped, then blurted, "Fuck my asshole with your tongue? Please?"

Jim knelt, swept a wide lick over the pulsing hole, then fastened over it to fill it as deeply as he could thrust. Shouting wildly in reaction, Blair clenched around the invader, the delicious pressure communicating directly to his cock. It was overwhelming and he felt his balls draw up, readying to send their load.

Before he could groan a warning to Jim, the big man stopped his reaming and bestowed a soft kiss to the upturned buttocks. Keeping a hand on them, he reached over to the bed and removed one of the dildos laid out there. "I'm going to put a plug in you, sweet whore. You hold onto it tight and keep it in until I tell you otherwise."

It must have been lubed in advance; the slender device slid in easily, and Blair tightened on it instinctively. Unable to stop a groan, he waited, hoping Jim would use one of the larger ones he could see. With a smack not quite hard enough to be considered a spank, Jim walked away and went into the bathroom. "Wait there for me."

Blair bit the gym horse to keep from loudly complaining. He had a feeling the slaps would be *much* more serious if he did. After a few minutes of counting backwards in Greek, Hebrew, and Quencha, he calmed enough to consider what to do about the stupendously commanding erection trying to kill him.

Deciding hitting it would probably not make a dent on it, it was so hard, he thought about what Jim had told him. He could come if he wanted, but he had to stay put. Ok, that wasn't mutually exclusive, necessarily. He tried humping onto the leather bench he was bent over, but couldn't move enough without changing position. Cautiously letting go with one hand, he tried to reach for his erection, but started to slide off and had grab back on.

Biting again, this time in frustration, he began to count again, breathing in or out at every five. His arousal didn't fade, but it occupied him until Jim came back into the bedroom and sat on the big wingback chair opposite facing the horse. The big man threw one leg over an arm of the chair and scooted until his bottom was at the edge.

"Come here," he ordered.

Approaching eagerly, Blair knelt in front of his john and admired the picture he made. The generous folds of the blue silk robe covered Jim mostly; there was only a wedge of that perfect male chest showing enticingly, and the long, long legs sprawling from the hem. Wanting to tweak aside one corner of fabric and see if Jim was as turned on as he was, Blair somehow dredged up the patience to wait for Jim's directions.

Jim regarded him from under hooded eyes, then mildly said, "You liked that so much; let's see if you can give as good as you got."

"Oh, yeah," Blair breathed, and buried his face in the inviting crease between Jim's legs. There was not so much as a twitch in reaction from Jim, but Blair didn't care. Unsurprisingly, Jim was as scrupulously clean personally as he was in his environment; the fragrance and flavor Blair discovered was clean, earthy, and so intimately Jim that Blair was instantly addicted. Hungrily and happily he nibbled from the heavy sac at the top of the perineum to the hot, hot ring quivering at the base of it. Half-moaning to himself, he stroked over and over the fragile skin and tense muscle, willing it to relax and take a mobile, moist visitor.

It relented after a few coaxing stabs, and Blair felt the tension in the body above him flow away. //Ha!// he couldn't help thinking. //This button has *your* name engraved on it, babe. And I intend to hit it as often as possible.// The erotic image of Jim holding himself open and begging for this act hit Blair unexpectedly. Unthinkingly he groped for his cock and began to pull on it mercilessly, matching the hard plunge of his tongue into the tight hole.

His orgasm slammed into him, and his entire body tightened, the forgotten plug inside him becoming a hard source of stimulation as his ass spasmed around it. As his body gratefully released its seed, Blair's head was gently pulled up from his task and held between Jim's careful hands while he was lost in the blinding pleasure within and without. When his vision cleared, Blair sagged onto his partner's legs. "Let me... let me catch... my breath," he panted, "and... I'll.. do it some... more."

"Actually, I have something else in mind."

Blair couldn't quite stifle a groan, but said nothing.

Petting his hair tenderly, Jim told him, "When I say 'present,' I want you to go onto your hands and knees in front of me, facing away. Count to three, then put your elbows on the floor and lift your hips as high as you can, knees as wide as you can. Understand?"

For the second time that day Blair felt heat color his features. He couldn't think of a more vulnerable or whorish stance to take in front of someone. Or a better one to be deeply, thoroughly taken. The heat traveled to his semi hard-on, making it stir in interest. Nodding his acceptance, he hid his hot face on Jim's thigh.

"Can you stand?" Jim asked unexpectedly.

"Yeah," Blair answered, still a little breathless, "I think so."

"Then tidy up the mess, please." Jim ordered gently. He sat back in the wingback, tucking his legs under him and smoothing his robe over them.

It only took a few minutes, though it seemed much longer to Blair. Moving carefully, the rod inside him reminding him every step he wasn't done yet, he got the job done and came back to sit beside the chair. Companionably he leaned on Jim's legs, peeking up at the other man through his lashes.

The smile he wore was more genuine than any he had seen so far this evening, and Blair couldn't help smiling back. Jim leaned forward and captured Blair's chin in the palm of his hand, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone and lips. "Present," he whispered, and Blair was amazed to find his body responded before his mind quite processed the command.

Face hidden on his forearms, he did his best not to shake as he lifted his backside high and waited. There was a deep sigh from behind him and the dildo was removed carefully. As it slid out, his rectum spasmed tightly, sending jolts of feeling deep and forcing a tiny cry from his lips.

"This one is thicker," Jim informed him. Then he was opened again, filled almost to the edge of discomfort. With a wriggle he accepted it, and the resultant fullness encouraged his growing erection.

"Face me."

Not knowing what to expect, Blair wheeled around and sat back on his heels. Jim was in the same position they had begun in, one leg slung over the arm of the chair, and the dildo he taken from Blair was sitting on a tray on the floor. "Put it in me."

Instantly totally hard, Blair picked it up, lubed it, and did so, hands shaking from erotic impact of the deed. For the first time Jim showed a sign of arousal; a shudder of pure delight chased over his body. "It's still warm from your body," he murmured distantly. "God! I didn't think about that."

Guide imperatives rose. "That didn't happen before?" Blair demanded, putting one hand on Jim's bare chest to force him to look at him.

The twisted smile came back. "Never did it before. You're a whore, but you're *my* whore, now. There are ...things.... I can do with you I wouldn't with a rentboy." He picked up the hand from his chest and sucked on the middle finger. "For instance," he said as he released the wet digit, "come here."

With cautious maneuvering, Blair soon found himself straddling Jim's lap, knees on the arm of the chair, hands on the wings for balance. It brought his cock so close to Jim's lips, that all the big man had to do was settle down comfortably in the cushions to take Blair into his mouth.

Jim took him to the root in one swallow, surprising a shout and thrust from Blair. Slipping his lips off sensuously, Jim told him, "Be still," and dove back down the length.

It took more will than Blair knew he possessed, but only his hands moved, working and kneading the fabric of the chair as Jim sucked him steadily. He began to whisper 'please' over and over in time to the strokes. Just as he felt he could bear no more, Jim reached behind him and began shoving the shaft inside him in and out in counter point.

Without thought Blair froze, whimpering, "Please let me fuck, please, please, I need to, let me fuck your mouth."

With an obscene slurp, Jim abandoned Blair's cock, bit his navel lightly, and demanded, "Present."

Making horridly unhappy noises that spilled past tightly held lips, Blair clambered down hurriedly and gave Jim his ass. Apparently as anxious, now, Jim quickly removed the old toy and put in a much wider and longer new one. Blair flinched a tiny bit as the new one forced its way in, and Jim paused. "Pain?"

"No," Blair mumbled. "Just.. big, you know?"

"Yeah," Jim agreed. He patted Blair's ass cheek reassuringly. "You know what to do."

Blair whirled around, reaching for the dildo before Jim even finished putting it down. On impulse, he bent and used his teeth to tug the one inside Jim free as he lubed up the one he held. "Good," Jim said thickly, and lifted up to meet the entering thrust.

He watched with glittering eyes, face expressionless, as Blair finished placing the shaft and reached for the belt of the robe. Fumbling, Blair untied it and peeled the sides away from Jim's body. He didn't bother to hide his possessive admiration at the sight revealed to him until he reached the rampant manhood Jim had been deliberately concealing from him.

On a different level of his mind, all the puzzle parts fell into place, even as Blair wrapped both hands around the bottom part of the ten-inch cock and engulfed as much of the head as he could. He had never tried to deal with *anything* quite so thick - at least as big around as his wrist at the base - and didn't succeed in going very far. But he tackled it with such honest enthusiasm, Jim sighed. "What a find you are, little whore. *My* little whore."

Gathering the dangling ends of the leather straps tied on Blair's left arm and right wrist, Jim held the smaller man tight. His hips began to make minute, involuntary thrusting movements, not enough to choke Blair but enough to encourage his efforts.

Blair didn't need any. He laved and sucked in time to that restless motion, determined to bring Jim off with his mouth, first. He *wanted* the taste of his partner, wanted to make Jim come with him.

Before he could, the vibrator buried in him began to pulse, sending hard waves of pleasure straight into the hard gland beside it. It ignited, sending a burning rush of semen out of him. Groaning deep in his throat, he struggled to keep his rhythm on Jim, but, like before, Jim eased his head up and held it against his belly until Blair began to recover.

He coaxed the groggy man up and astride his lap, then reached around to carefully remove the vibrator. Dropping it to the floor, he probed Blair's opening with his fingers, making sure the hot portal was greased and loose. Reflexively, Blair tightened strongly on those digits, dislodging matching moans from both of them.

With fumbling cooperation, Jim hoisted Blair up, bracing him, and told him curtly, "Ride."

"I'm too tired, Babe, I can't," Blair pleaded. "I'm completely limp here. Take me? Please? Just pound into me. I'll do my best, I promise."

Smacking both ass cheeks with both hands, Jim ordered more harshly, "Ride!"

The sting of his skin sparked a twitch in his cock which Jim couldn't help but feel in the position they were sharing. Catching one of the strings hanging from a nipple clamp with his teeth, he tugged firmly, spanking Blair again with both hands. "You haven't earned your pay yet, whore. Now ride!" After two more slaps and pulls, Blair rose up enough to place the head of Jim's hard-on at his asshole. On a half sob, half sigh, he pushed down on it, inserting only a portion of the angry red head past the ring of muscle. The next sound he made held more pleasure, and his slowly filling erection began to rub against Jim.

Licking and biting, Jim worried the ribbons on Blair's throat, forehead and arm, making approving, urging noises. Blair cautiously raised and lowered himself again, taking more. The heat of his arousal was flaring, inciting him, and he repeated his action, taking another few centimeters.

"You don't have to take it all," Jim said hoarsely against Blair's chest. "I can come from this much."

Never stopping, Blair guided Jim's head up until he could look into his eyes. They were so dilated with lust and hunger, the blue in them was practically gone, leaving only the black fire raging inside his lover. "That's not what you need," he told him quietly. "That's not what you want. It's okay, I swear I can take it. Oh hell, Jim, if I'd known the prize you were packing, you could have sworn off macaroni three years ago!"

For the longest time, Jim stared blankly at his partner, showing no reaction to either the words or the depth to which he was sinking in the yielding hole. Finally, licking his lips, he ventured a shove upward, watching Blair closely.

Blair grinned lewdly and squirmed a hand down to encircle his own cock. "That's it," he murmured, meeting the next thrust urgently, "yeah, yeah, yeah. I like that." They rocked more surely together, Blair taking more and more with each motion.

"Damn," Jim ground out between clenched teeth. "Damn. I'm in, I'm all in."

"It's good," Blair assured him, his renewed arousal inspiring him to slam down hard, "good, good, good...."

"Oh, God, Blair," Jim said quietly, then his entire body quaked violently, sending hot floods of sperm deep, deep into his lover. His cock was so tightly wrapped by the tender channel, that each throb it made as it released its load went straight into the tiny gland buried in the wall.

With a strangled cry, Blair came again, hardly wetting Jim's stomach. Barely conscious, he rode out the intense spikes of pleasure, then fell forward onto Jim's chest, insensible. The last thing he knew for a long, long time was a loving hand carding through his hair, a chaste kiss on his lips, and Jim softly promising, "No more macaroni and cheese, ever."

The End