MAGMA

"Philip's having a party next Thursday; want to go?"

Mentally running over what he needed to put in his pack before going out the door for the day, Blair answered Jim automatically. "Party on a week night? We'd have to leave early."

"Could always take the Friday off," Jim said casually. "Not as if we don't have the comp time coming, and we could always head for Joel's cabin when we did get up."

"Time off?" Blair's head shot up, and this time he heard the undertones beneath the show of nonchalance Jim had put into the question.

Head conveniently half inside the refrigerator, presumably to find bottled water to take with them, Jim said, "I *have* been known to take a day off now and again, Sandburg."

"Usually at gun point," Blair muttered, knowing he would be heard. He put down his pack and crossed to the kitchen, waiting patiently until Jim came out of hiding. He cupped a strong jaw in his palm, thumb scoring lovingly over a high cheekbone. "Do you need to Play, My Own? It has been a while."

Jim gave him the wide, surprised-life-is-good smile that he used so seldom and which never failed to melt Blair's heart. Kissing the palm holding him, he said, "I'd like to afterwards, if you're in the mood, but that's not the reason I want to go."

"Then why?" Blair pressed, sure there was something Jim wasn't telling him.

"Payback, mostly." Jim shrugged a bit self-consciously. "Philip's been a good friend. And his reason for the party is a good one."

"Which is?" Blair prodded when it seemed he wasn't going to volunteer more.

Waving at the door with a bottle to indicate they needed to get going, Jim said, "Part of his on-going rescue campaign for the boys he takes in. For them to be upwardly mobile, they need more than street smarts and the behavior that goes with it. They have to learn how to conduct themselves in polite society, in social situations; more important, they have to know it's possible to be gay or bi and live a successful life, too. So Philip invites some of his most trusted upscale clients, the ones tolerant and patient enough handle his boys' rough edges, to parties to help smooth them down."

"Cool!" Blair enthused, leading the way out. "Your first invite then?"

Gently smacking the back of his head for the insinuation that he had his own rough edges, Jim said, "The party should be right up your alley: teaching by example. Philip has an eclectic group of friends and clients, too, so the last thing these things are is boring. Oh, it's formal; you'll need to your tux."

"This sounds better and better." Sure there wasn't anything on his calendar that he couldn't move, Blair added, "Go ahead and tell Phillip yes. Does your tux need to go to the cleaners?"

"No, but yours does. Remember I told you it was always better to clean them as soon as you'd used them so they'd be ready at short notice?"

"This isn't short notice," Blair shot back. Though he continued to banter with Jim as they left, in the back of his mind he realized that he wasn't convinced that Jim had been completely up-front with him. There had been too much of an edge to the off-hand way he'd brought up the party and he'd been equally careful selling the idea of going to Blair, highlighting the points he knew that would be most appealing.

Forewarned, though of what he had no idea, Blair played close attention to him, looking for other clues, but couldn't find anything else that set off his alarms. Jim was just Jim, like always - cranky, thoughtful, tender, demanding, aggravating, and loving by turns and for no particular reason, usually. He thought maybe his lover was a bit more touchy-feely, a bit more attentive, but it was hard to judge. The longer they were together, the easier it was for Jim to show how he felt, his actions speaking louder than words to Blair's perceptive eye.

But the actual night of the party he was willing to swear that Jim was anxious and hiding it under years' worth of a cop's skill at dissembling and subterfuge. Much as Blair pummeled his brain trying to think of a reason why, all he could come up with was that Jim thought that Blair would embarrass him somehow in front of their host and peers. That simply didn't make any sense at all; he knew his partner too well to believe that his sentinel would ever be ashamed of his choice for lover and partner. It was enough to make Blair nervous as well, though, and by the time they rang the bell at the door of the unassuming estate, he was dry-mouthed and his palms were starting to sweat.

"New digs," he observed, pretending to be very interested in the well-kept lawn and hedges. "Two homes, or has he moved since the last time we used his Play Room?"

"He's borrowing this from a close friend - ex-lover if you listen to the gossip - who won't be there tonight," Jim said absently. He studied Blair closely, apparently perplexed at his edginess. Draping an arm over Blair's shoulders, he pulled him near to whisper into his ear. "Philip *likes* you, Chief, and while some of his boys are crude, none of them are vicious. But we can go home right now if that's what you want."

"Or our Play Room?" Blair murmured, nerves settling instantly.

"If that's what you want. I'd like it if you went ahead of me, though," Jim said, using their private code to ask Blair to bottom tonight.

"And if we stay for the party, do you still want me to go ahead?" Blair asked, suddenly wondering if the gathering was an excuse to Play, despite Jim's earlier claim otherwise. Or if maybe if it were part of it in some way.

"I have something, ah, in mind," Jim confirmed obliquely.

Curiosity rising and not a few tendrils of excitement along with it, Blair slipped his arm around his partner's waist as the door opened. "Consider your feet washed," Blair said too softly for anyone's ears but Jim's.

Philip swept them inside, beaming regally at them for being arm-in-arm, and then hugging them at the same time with a quick buss for each. Dignified and portly, Philip had always reminded Blair of an American Sebastian Cabot, or maybe Santa Claus with a sly sense of humor. All it took was one look in those dark eyes, though and it was clear to even the most battered and abused child that safety could be found in them. At the same time, there was a core of steel to Philip that had allowed him to be a good cop and now told his charges that he wouldn't buy any of the bull they were accustomed to shoveling.

Like Jim predicted, the guest mix was varied to say the least, including one priest that had once been Phillip's partner on the force. The early hours of the party sped by in a haze of good food, good conversation, and better company. Though Blair mixed and mingled, stopping to say hello to anyone who looked interesting, as the evening progressed he spent more and more time at Jim's side, enjoying simply being with him.

He also noticed that the two of them were attracting more and more attention from the young men that were also circulating, looking a bit stiff and uneasy in their rented tuxes. Recognition was in some of the wary, speculating eyes on them, as was envy and hidden wonder. It made Blair both sad and happy. Sad that they had never seen what he and Jim had, and happy that maybe now that they knew it existed, they would take the risk to look for it themselves.

Jim noticed, too, of course, and his reaction was predictable. He made a point of touching Blair, almost constantly - the small, intimate touches that only lovers would dare in public. He toyed with Blair's ponytail, played with the hoops dangling from one earlobe, or cupped his elbow when he bent to share a private joke or comment. Used to the occasional show of possessiveness, it took a while before Blair realized that Jim had another motive behind it. He was showing him off, bragging to any one who had eyes in their head that he had the right to be personal with Blair, and that he was proud of it. It was subtle, very subtle - a sly half-smile when Jim caught someone looking them over, body language that put him behind Blair, as if presenting him to the other guests, and using his touches to draw notice to what he'd always claimed was Blair's beautiful face and lovely body.

When he finally understood what Jim was doing, and that he had probably planned on doing it all along, his insides melted into so much fiery lust and heart-rending love for his mate that he was surprised he didn't spontaneously combust. It also made him want to drag the man down to the floor and use him until his balls were permanently drained. The only thing that stopped him, aside from the fact it was *not* the example Philip wanted them to set for his boys, was the hint of smugness that appeared on Jim's lips when he scented Blair's desire.

With a pinch to the hard fanny, he left to cool down for a few minutes on the tree-sheltered patio outside the dining room, taking a seat on the low wall separating it from a rose garden struggling to green in the early spring air. He wasn't really irritated; how often did the two of them have a chance to truly be 'out' without worrying about the consequences? And he could see why his exhibitionist partner would particularly enjoy making a display of him, though Blair's personal inclination was to be the voyeur, not the one being watched. But he could have told him what he had in mind; at the very least it would have given him a chance to play up to it.

Wondering if Jim had expected him to be upset by it, and if that was the root cause of the anxiety he'd been sensing, Blair sighed and turned his still-warm face to the light breeze drifting through the night. Reasonable as that explanation was, it didn't quite fit the bill.

"So you're the one that Silver turned domestic for," a raspy voice said unexpectedly from the shadows at the other end of the patio.

Alarmed, but too experienced at hiding it to jump, Blair asked without looking, "Silver?"

"As in Long Dong Silver." A slight boy of about nineteen with dusky skin and an oriental cast to his features slid furtively from his hiding spot, glancing around as if expecting to be busted by the cops.

Familiar with Philip's habit of letting his crew give their clients nicknames that both protected the client and let the young men feel comfortable with them as people, Blair nodded. Angling his head just enough to be able to see his visitor from the corner of his eye, he said, "Suits."

"I feel sorry for you walking around with a hole that big in you," he said snidely.

The attitude, along with the rough voice, triggered recall, and Blair remembered Philip introducing this particular young man as Sharl, the tenderness in his tone at the time conveying to the discerning ear both worry and deep affection for him. "Muscles are wonderful things; first they stretch out, then they flex back," Blair said mildly. "Though I imagine I'll make my proctologist a wealthy man some years down the road."

Sharl snorted in amusement, then hesitantly came to sit on the wall just beyond arm's reach. "Philip calls you Gold. Because you're good as?"

Grinning, Blair said, "Silver hasn't had any complaints."

"I've had him," Sharl blurted, his expression a mix of defiance and fear.

"I imagine most of you have. Intense, isn't he?"

It was clearly not the answer that the young man expected, and he shifted uncertainly under Blair's serene gaze. "Intense, yeah that's one word for it. Hope he keeps you good for what you've got to go through."

"Silver doesn't keep me; he doesn't need to. I have work that I love and I can take good care of myself," Blair corrected gently.

"He paid for the schooling for it, I bet."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen my student loan payments. And before you take any other digs, such as accusing me of having a silver spoon in my background somewhere, I worked my way through school to cover what my scholarships didn't. I'm with Silver because I want what he has to give, Sharl, and I have something to share in return."

"And when he doesn't want to give it to you any more, what then?" There was pure misery in the young man's voice, announcing all too clearly that the question was the heart of the matter.

"Then I hurt, probably for a very long time, then heal, then get on with my life. I imagine I'll eventually find someone else." The only way Blair got away with the lie that he ended his calm declaration on was because the truth was so pure until that point, and because Sharl became more and more agitated as he spoke.

"Fuck! Fuck, it can't be worth it," Sharl snapped. "No sex is so great that it's worth eating yourself up about when it's over."

"Who said anything about sex?" The question was too much for the already emotionally stressed young man, and he abruptly fled, but not before Blair caught a glimpse of wide, frightened eyes.

Mentally making a note to tell Philip about the conversation as soon as possible, he went back inside, going straight to Jim's side. Sliding his arm underneath the tux jacket so he could hook his fingers into the waistband of Jim's slacks, Blair leaned into him, relieved and pleased when a long arm curled around his back.

"Babe?" Jim murmured worriedly, under cover of conversation.

"Waaaay later, okay?"

Jim studied him with narrowed eyes for a moment, then let it slide, though he hugged Blair closer to his side. It was a good place to be; warm and fragrant with Jim's clean male-scent, and Blair sagged against him, eyes closed. Right now all he wanted was to melt into this man and stay for about a million years, spending every moment of it being thankful that he'd had the nerve to knock on that door that night.

With an effort he bestirred himself enough to join in the general conversation, but for the last hours of the party Blair did his best to become permanently attached to his lover. The knowing smirks from Philip's boys didn't faze him, nor did the more envious and understanding glances from the other guests. All that mattered was that when the gathering wound down, he was curled up against Jim as they sat on a couch talking with Philip, and he was half-hard in anticipation of finally being alone with him.

Standing and putting aside the champaign flute he'd been toying with, Philip said, "I took the privilege of having your bags moved from your vehicle to the Velvet room. I think you'll find it suitable."

"Can we treat you to breakfast tomorrow morning and leave your cleaning people that much less mess to deal with?" Jim asked politely, standing himself and drawing Blair to his feet along with him.

Philip gestured toward the stairs in the foyer, then led the way up them. "Oh, I have several other matters to see to this evening. It'll be some time before I'm ready to sleep, and then I'll most likely be quite late getting up tomorrow. Were you and Blair planning an early start to the cabin?"

"Not too early," Blair said blandly, not bothering to be embarrassed by the implications of going to bed now and still sleeping in.

"There's most definitely no need for haste on my account," Philip said, equally bland. "Ah, here we are." The door swung open and he stepped aside, beaming benignly. "A perfect setting for Silver and Gold."

With a soft whistle Blair agreed with him; all that could be seen was a sumptuous abundance of sensual black fabric. Heavy silk was draped from ceiling to floor with more adorning the ceiling itself, and the carpeting was what he sincerely hoped was fake fur. There was no visible furniture. What he thought would serve as the bed was a platform raised off the floor at about crotch level for a kneeling man, and it was covered with satin sheets and velvet pillows. Here and there glints of silver and glass peeked between folds of material to hint discreetly at light fixtures and doorknobs, though some were for less mundane purposes.

"Perfect," Jim murmured and smiled at their host. "You always had the best damned eye for this sort of thing."

"Perhaps I missed my calling," Philip said, expression dead-pan. "Perhaps I should have been an interior decorator."

"Specializing in satisfying the rich and kinky," Jim shot back.

"Good money in that, I hear. And I most certainly would get laid just about as often."

Rolling his eyes, Jim put a guiding palm in the center of Blair's back to urge him over the threshold. "Frankly, you're working with a better class of people in your current job."

Shutting the door behind them, Philip murmured, "I think so, anyway."

"Got the last word," Blair chuckled.

"He usually does; a trait the two of you share." Jim's tone made it clear he was decidedly disinterested in continuing the conversation, and he pulled Blair back against himself, cradling his backside in the curve of powerful hips. Already completely erect, he made a small sound of contentment when Blair shifted enough to be able to fit the massive erection along the cleft of his ass.

Long fingers tugged at the thong holding Blair's hair in a ponytail, then carded through the mass of curls, encouraging them to run rampant. It felt good, and he tilted back his head to encourage Jim to play there a bit longer, making his own noises of gratification. It was more relaxing than arousing, not that Blair needed it, and he hooked his hands over the hard thighs behind him, holding Jim securely and putting more erotic pressure on the manhood snuggled against him.

Jim's loving touch made its leisurely way down Blair's body, petting his arms and chest through his clothing. Eventually he made his way to Blair's hips and moved inward to cup his balls and outline the growing hard-on with sure, knowing fingers. Sighing, Blair put his head back on his lover's chest, surrendering himself to the love-play.

Taking it as permission, Jim undid the top button of the dress slacks and drew down the zipper. "You went commando for me," he whispered into an ear.

Shivering a little from what the tiny currents of air carrying the words did to his nerve endings and libido, Blair said, "One less thing for me to get out of the way after the party."

"I like the way you think. Hold your jacket and shirt up out of the way?"

Puzzled, Blair complied and Jim took out his cock, making him shiver again, this time from the cool air hitting heated flesh.

"Perfect," Jim murmured, expertly jacking the growing column in exactly the right way to bring it to full hardness in seconds. "Just perfect." Blair looked down at the hand moving on his sex, seeing the head of his cock appearing and disappearing in his lover's fist, and licked suddenly dry lips. "Feels good."

"Mmm," Jim agreed absently, nibbling at the side of Blair's neck. "Fuck my hand, if you want, but don't come."

Moaning a half-hearted protest, Blair began thrusting, trying at first to press back against the erection nudging at his bottom. Soon though, he began to single-mindedly search for relief for the ache in his groin, and he closed his eyes to better enjoy what was being done to him.

With a last kiss to the soft skin behind Blair's ear, Jim slowed, then stopped stroking him all together. "Hold still," he ordered softly at Blair's little 'oh' of disappointment. "Cock ring," he warned a split second later, and strapped the leather sheath in place, tightening the laces around the shaft and balls to just the correct side of painful, leaving the ruddy crown bare. "Such a sexy look for you."

"I don't know about that," Blair said, fighting the urge to squirm at the admiration in his voice. "But it makes me feel that way, for you."

"Good. You'll like this, too. Lift your jacket and shirt higher, that's it." Jim attached long ribbons to the rings embedded in the sheath, then drew Blair's erection tight against his stomach and tied it in place by knotting the thongs behind his back. "You and leather just go together."

"There was a time I wouldn't have agreed with that," Blair said a bit breathlessly, eagerly anticipating the next move.

"Not any more, huh? Leave it that way until I release it."

Blair did squirm this time, groaning at little at the position of his hard-on. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it did leave him feeling blatantly exposed. "Let's just say I've grown appreciative of its uses," he said, his conversational tone only slightly spoiled by the tiny gasp at the end as Jim snaked his hands under his shirt, unerringly finding the taut nubs on his chest.

"Parts of you more than others, I see. Can your raise clothes up some more? I want to watch the clamps go on."

"Oh, god, oh, god," Blair moaned, instantly giving up all pretense of being able to speak coherently as a sharp jerk of need knifed through him. A faint tremor started in his legs, and he locked his knees against it, though it didn't help much. The first tingling pinch of the clamps on his sensitive nipples almost sent him to the floor, and his back arched as if to shove the rosy bits into the metal's bite.

Jim steadied him, and after he'd recovered enough to stand on his own, gave an easy push between Blair's shoulder blades to send him down. "Hands and knees, now."

Eagerly Blair dropped, digging his fingers into the lush fur and hanging his head, anxious for whatever it was his lover had in mind. His pants were pulled down just enough to reveal his ass, and Jim palmed the cheeks apart, thumbs going to the pucker hidden between them to test its readiness. Blair exhaled slowly, willing his body to yield and sighing in pleasure as cool gel was smoothed over and into his hole. Not sure if he would be opened with fingers or a toy, he was startled when Jim put the head of his cock at the rim, then shoved in as he pulled back on Blair's hips to fill him in one fast, steady stroke.

Shouting, Blair rode out the first eruption of sensation from being so quickly and thoroughly taken. Before he could prepare himself, Jim began to thrust fast and hard, pushing back and forth on Blair's hips as if he were boneless doll. Then as quickly as he'd begun, he slammed in as deep as he could and came, the heat of his seed scalding Blair through and through.

Stunned, three heartbeats from climax himself, Blair remained motionless under him, quivering from frustration and surprise. Jim withdrew gently, sending calming hands skimming over what bare skin he could find, then warned, "Dildo – to stay in until I remove it."

Automatically mumbling a sound of acknowledgement, Blair peered over his shoulder in time to see the slender rod disappear into his body. The base was wider than the rest, like a butt plug, but barely enough to keep it seated, and the rest was so thin he could hardly feel it, especially after being stretched by Jim's enormous cock.

"Tighten around it, please, as hard as you can," Jim instructed. "Good, again. Very good. If it starts to slip out, do that to keep it in place."

Tidying himself, Jim stood, then did up his pants, looking for all the world as if he'd hadn't just been balls deep in a hot ass. Coming around in front of Blair, he helped him up, then pulled his clothes together as well, smoothing out wrinkles and creases until Blair looked almost immaculate, too. Almost. As well cut as the tux was, it didn't hide the rampant maleness bulging in the front, nor quite conceal the lumps that the nipple clamps made.

Nor did Blair feel as composed as he supposed he looked: debauched, debased, and disheveled, yes. Calm and collected, no. He thought he might as well have a sign on his back saying, 'Just fucked.' "Wow," he said to himself, not daring to look at his partner.

Chuckling, Jim brushed a few stray locks from Blair's face, then kissed him sweet and deep, flogging Blair's arousal so that it rose over his confusion and disconcertment. When Blair was moaning hoarsely, Jim backed away, fingers lingering on the planes and lines of Blair's face.

"Before we go any further," Jim said, cracks in his control showing in his voice, "Could you do something for me?" Blair nodded numbly, and Jim added, "Go back to the dining room and get one of those pitchers of ice water and a couple of glasses, please."

Opening the door, he gently pushed Blair through it, then shut it behind him. For a moment, all Blair could do was blink stupidly, then he scrambled after his scattered wits and started down the hall. Creating an air of composure out of sheer necessity, he smiled genially when he saw Philip, Sharl and one other young man whose name he couldn't remember standing at the bottom of the steps, discussing what to leave for the cleaning crew. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, "But have the caterers taken away all the ice water?"

"The air *is* very dry," Philip said amiably, his smug grin lurking deep in his beard, if you knew where to look for it. "One of the drawbacks to central heat. There should be a few left on the end of the bar."

"Thanks." Blair strolled into the living room that housed the bar, feeling eyes on him like insects clinging to his clothes, claws prickling down to bare skin. But he kept his head up and his pace deliberate as he retrieved the water pitcher and glass and made the return trip.

When he was halfway up the steps Philip called up, "Sleep... well."

The slight pause between the two words hinted it wasn't necessarily sleep that he expected to go well, but Blair only glanced over his shoulder and said, "You, too. And thanks for inviting us to the party; I had a great time."

He finished climbing the stairs and pretended not to hear Philip's quiet, "Not as good as the one you're about to have, I imagine."

Blair did let his hips sway ever so slightly as he finished the last two steps, though, absurdly pleased at the muttered, "Hot damn," from Sharl.

Opening the door before he could knock, Jim took Blair's burden, placed it on the floor next to the door, and drew him into their room, finding his mouth immediately. After a fast taste, Blair pulled back enough to say accusingly, "You were showing me off, bragging about what you can do to me. Did you listen to what they said? Did I make them hot? Are they wishing they were me?"

"Yes." Jim kissed him hard, hands everywhere, stroking and squeezing. "Sharl is begging Phillip to be allowed to come up here and try his luck at joining us. Matt's got a better idea of the picture; he's begging to be taken to the Stone Room and used."

Both embarrassed and turned on, Blair restlessly ground against his lover. "They want to do me? Do they want that huge cock of yours, or just want to watch because they can't believe I can take it?"

Jim listened, then chuckled sardonically. "All of the above with whips and chains added. Too bad. Nobody gets a piece of you now; they can admire and flirt all they want, but you're mine."

"Yours," Blair affirmed, clutching at Jim so tightly he knew he would leave bruises, but didn't care. "Your bitch, your whore, your own."

He had hoped to goad his lover into taking him again, but Jim caught Blair's chin between thumb and forefinger and somberly regarded him, calming him almost by an act of will. When he had Blair's undivided attention, he asked, "Yes – you are My Own. Would you wear my mark to show it? Piercing, tattoo, brand, scar, jewelry – it doesn't matter, whatever you want. Just keep in mind I'll be wearing it, too."

No one had ever warned Blair that joy and lust and love make for a heady cocktail that exploded simultaneously in the brain and gut. Stumbling back, fingers going to his mouth as if to kill the over-sized grin he could feel blossoming there, he tried to shout yes, squeaked instead, then threw himself at Jim so hard he knocked them both to the floor. Fortunately it was well-cushioned and his lover expertly softened their landing so neither were hurt.

Laughing, Jim rolled them until he was on top. "I'll take that for a yes."

Hugging with all four limbs, Blair babbled, "And a please and a thank god and a yippee and a.... So that's why you've been so anxious; you've been planning on asking me to marry you!"

Jim admitted it to him with a tender mating of lips and tongue that very quickly turned into pure heat that scorched Blair all the way down to the pit of his soul. When he finally tore himself away, Blair gasped, "Let me come now, My Own. Please? Please? I ache so bad, want it so bad."

Pinning him with his weight so Blair couldn't hump against him, Jim said, "We'll see. In the meantime, you'd certainly have a better chance at it if I were naked." Before Blair could grab at shirt buttons, Jim stood and nodded at their bags, which Sharl had brought up earlier and set just inside the large, luxurious bathroom. "I brought a robe; help me into it and take care with the tux."

Biting down on a groan of pure frustration, Blair made himself slow down to the leisurely pace Jim seemed to want. With exacting care he undressed him, slipping off jacket, tie and shirt, hanging them neatly as he worked. Socks and shoes were next, and when he tried to lovingly massage a bare foot, Jim warned him not to digress beyond his orders with a nudge and soft threat. "Just as I say or there will be consequences."

Blair had to sneak a tiny pause and deep breath before undoing the dress slacks, sure he was going to fall onto his lover's huge cock the second he saw it. But by concentrating on getting fabric past protruding flesh with snagging, he managed, then obediently fetched the robe, though he wanted to at least stare and drool. Recognizing the blue silk the instant he saw it as the robe Jim had worn their first night together, Blair held the rich fabric against his face for a moment, trying to catch a whiff of their combined scent from it. He didn't comment, though; Jim was wearing a stern expression at even that slight deviation. That didn't stop him from lingering over the placement of the garment on Jim's gorgeous body, smoothing it over glorious skin.

Without intending to, he got carried away and didn't stop where the material ended and flesh began, running his hands first down over corded legs, then back up to cup the firm globes of Jim's ass. A second later he realized his mistake as his lover stepped away, catching his wrists in a punishing grip. "You were not told to do that. I warned you there would be consequences."

"I'm sorry!" Blair gulped, holding painfully still. "You're just so beautiful I couldn't help it!"

Not listening to him, Jim dragged him over to the bed platform and sat on the edge of it. "Undo your pants and bare your bottom," he commanded sharply. "Then bend over my lap."

Thankfully his fingers were able to move without any direction from him and set to work while Blair himself was still trying to absorb the swift change in direction of their love-play. Self-consciously, stomach clenching and dick throbbing, he did as he was told. Flinching a little at the pressure the arrangement put on his hard-on, he stifled a moan when Jim's rubbed at the patch of bare tummy between his shirt and his lover's lap.

Jim gave him a moment to position himself so that he was stable and as comfortable as possible, then said, "Hands behind your back, please."

It was fairly tricky to obey and still keep his balance, but Jim helped by demonstrating that the bed platform was modular by separating a section and moving it so that Blair had a place to rest his upper chest and head. Then his wrists were tied to ribbons knotted around his waist, so that if he tried to move his hands, he would painfully jerk on his cock.

Yet he did exactly that in a natural bid to protect his upraised bottom when the first smack landed on it. As much as it smarted, the residual was good, very good - a combination of heat and prickle that went right to the need for climax simmering along his nerves. When the next blow was delivered, he barely noticed the moment of discomfort for the immediate snap of sweet sensation that followed. Within minutes the necessity of coming was far more demanding that the hurt from the spanking, though his butt cheeks were hot and tight-feeling, adding another layer of urgency.

Panting harshly, Blair began to plead brokenly for release, so far gone in the molten rush of pleasure that he didn't really hear himself. Then cool, cool satin was laid over his burning backside, and a soothing hand stroked up and down his back, easing him back to the land of rationality much against his will. When he was breathing evenly again, Jim helped him kneel up, wiping away sweat and tears with a soft, damp cloth.

"Better?" Jim asked quietly.

Inhaling slowly, Blair said honestly, "Getting there."

"Can you keep going?"

"God, yes!"

Spreading his legs and leaning back on his elbows, Jim said, "Then suck me; you can come if you can manage it without your hands. *Don't* stop pleasuring me."

The promise of relief had Blair shuffling into position and licking eagerly at the towering shaft jutting from Jim's lap, unsurprised at the faint taint of fresh soap and water on his fastidious sentinel. Without hands to steady it, sucking was a challenge, but enthusiasm and a true love of going down on Jim helped, and he pressed his chest against the bottom of the shaft as he took the head in his mouth. Cautiously he humped against the platform support, trying to find a combination of pressure and angle that could push him over the edge despite the cock ring.

Then Jim grabbed either side of Blair's head, held him still, and began to slowly fuck his face, driving in deeper and deeper with each thrust. Controlling his gag reflex was easy and his lover's rhythm was consistent enough that Blair could breath in time with it with no problem, but it took so much of his concentration that he couldn't focus on his own need. It subsided to the point that he had no chance of finishing before Jim, and he would have shouted out his frustration if his throat hadn't been occupied.

With a start Blair realized that Jim was in farther than he'd ever been able to accomplish before, and that he might be able to actually deep throat the monster cock for the first time. That thrilled him on a dozen different levels, and he forgot about the seething pool of lust in his middle trying to force its way to the surface. Instead he gave everything to working his way down the thick tool, and finally buried his nose in the pubic curls at the base of it.

He deliberately swallowed around it, positive that the flutter of his throat muscles would be too much for his lover. With a soft sigh Jim came, fingers carding caressingly through Blair's curls as he gingerly pumped the last few strokes and gave up his seed. When the last of it had dribbled out, he sighed again and lifted Blair from his zealous sucking to lightly kiss his brow and cheeks. "That was incredible, My Own."

The praise raced hotly through Blair and he leaned into his lover as much as he could. "Again? Please? I could rim you until you're hard again."

Tugging at the laces holding Blair's cock ring in place, Jim said, "Even before you do something about this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes...."

After giving him a tender, thorough kiss, Jim said, "Good answer. For that I have something special for you. Stand up for me."

With a shudder of erotic memory at the dark promise in those words, Blair got up on shaky legs, then did his best to cooperate as he was silently undressed from the waist down. Gripping Blair's wrists in long fingers to hold them in place, Jim undid the leather ties to take off the rest of the tux, then re-secured Blair's hands.

"Philip likes restraints," Jim said. "I've seen him use this; you'll like it, too. Bend over that u-shaped portion."

Hesitantly Blair did so, passively letting Jim manipulate him until there was solid support under his stomach, but his hips and upper shoulders were un-impeded. Then Jim attached heavy satin ribbons from the almost forgotten nipple clamps to the base of the bench, and did the same to the leather laces of the cock ring. If Blair tried to lift up or shift too much, the tethers would tug on tender flesh, and a tentative twist to test sent a stab of pleasure too close to pain for him to consider voluntarily moving.

Jim ran quick hands over him, both to steady and to make sure that there was no strain in any of Blair's muscles, then said, "Time for a bigger toy, I think."

Blair had been clutched around the slender rod for so long that he felt its loss acutely when it was removed and quickly replaced with a thicker, padded one. Before he could question the cushioning, a padded bar was snapped across his backside, locking the toy in place and effectively immobilizing his hips. His lover made a few small adjustments, apparently to guarantee that there wouldn't be any chaffing, and said, "Mouth next."

Understanding the implied command, Blair opened to accept the dildo gag, finding it padded as well. A second later a bar was locked over his lower face to keep the gag and his head from moving. Absently exploring the leather with his tongue, Blair gave a little shrug, just to see what would happen, then moaned at the multitude of sensations that simple movement created.

"Told you that you'd like it," Jim murmured. "And I'm not done yet"

That was the only warning Blair had before the lights went out. For one dizzying, thrilling moment he was in a wild kind of free-fall, heart pounding and dick trying vainly to get harder. With sight gone and his other senses nearly useless, all that was left was touch, and it was seriously busy with what was happening to his mouth and ass.

It was almost as if he were suspended in space by the two invaders piercing his body from either end, with only the tethers attached to tender bits of flesh to anchor him to himself. It was an odd perception, indescribably erotic in a way that he couldn't explain, and just as he was adapting to the mental image of it, Jim changed everything by licking along one shoulder blade.

Blair couldn't stop himself from jumping in surprise, and so many parts of him reported in at once with tiny shouts of pleasure that he screamed from the overload and would have climaxed if Jim hadn't anticipated the possibility. With a careful, well-judged squeeze of Blair's sack, Jim stopped his release before it began, then, as the last echoes of sound faded into harsh gasps, he moved away completely, leaving him adrift in the darkness.

About the time he started to wonder/worry where his lover was, Jim bit him lightly at the base of his spine, and, despite expecting something like it, Blair jumped again. His teeth clenched into his gag as a wonderful burning ache ripped into his nipples and cock, and his channel began throbbing in concert with his heartbeat, the small nub hidden in it sparking from the constantly changing pressure on it. Amazingly he didn't scream again; mostly because getting enough air in was difficult enough without losing any to making noise.

When the shock had waned enough for him to think, he was alone, sure that Jim was nearby, and already trying to brace himself for the next caress his lover would inflict on him. It was a waste of time. Hot and wet engulfed one of his fingers, sucking delicately, and Blair twisted under the impact, renewing the delicious agony and loosing any hope he had of keeping a clear head. Whimpering, he lost himself in a haze of physical delight as the sensual torment went on and on, with each unpredictable caress adding to his need, and yet it was all too short a time for the part of him that craved ever more sensation.

Just as it would have crossed the highly flexible line into true torture, Jim quickly undid the cock ring and stroked the enflamed rod once, hand slick with oil. Keening deep in his chest, bucking as much as his bonds would allow, Blair came, his seed jetting from him in powerful spurts that nearly hurt. It wouldn't have mattered if they had. Ecstasy owned him, taking over every part and leaving only itself until bone and skin could bear no more and he slumped onto the forgotten support, nearly unconscious.

From a great distance away he felt Jim free him from the restraints and remove the toys, then ease him onto his back on the bed as the lights came up fractionally. Softly crooning endearments and praise, he made Blair comfortable in the middle of the expanse of black satin, hands loving and considerate as they positioned Blair's limp body. When Jim was satisfied that no damage had been done, he drew Blair's hands to a metal bar across the top of the bed and whispered urgently, "Leave them there."

The intensity in his lover's words brought Blair back to himself, and he did his best to cooperate as Jim spread his legs wide and placed them on special pillows that lifted his knees high. It exposed his opening for easy use, but Jim made it even easier by lowering part of the bed platform so that he was kneeling well below Blair's hips. Entering him would be practically effortless for both of them, and a dull curl of renewing interest worked its way through Blair, sharpening his focus on his mate as Jim knelt between his legs, leisurely jacking his massive dick.

As erotic and appealing as that vision was, it wasn't what captured and held Blair's attention. It was Jim's eyes. He knew them well and had long since learned to read the many shades of meaning that could be found in how they moved, or how sharp the color was at any given moment. But he had never seen them so dark with lust that there was no blue left - only a black that seared, liked the barely cooled crust over a flow of magma that thinly concealed the fire underneath.

A shiver visibly chased over Blair's skin, and Jim grinned wickedly, but all he did was reach for a bottle of oil and fill the palm of one hand. He covered both hands generously with the fragrant liquid, then smoothed it into Blair's upper legs, massaging and kneading the already lax muscles until they were slick from the oil. That done, he unhurriedly worked his way over hips, tummy and ribs, clearly enjoying the sensual play and just as clearly coaxing Blair into new arousal with his languid attentions.

Blair was more than willing to be coaxed. Even as his lover indulged himself, he hungrily anticipated the moment Jim would claim him again, connecting them as only beloved flesh within beloved flesh could. At times Blair honestly believed that as he died of old age at a hundred and four he would still crave their union, and long to have it, just one more time.

A small smile quirked one corner of his mouth; the crusty old grump would probably make him beg for it, then, too.

Pleased with the whole idea, Blair stretched luxuriously under his sentinel's touch, then froze as a flicker of motion at the corner of one eye dragged him away from their play. In the dimly lit room, he could barely make out a single glare of brightness peeping from the drapes opposite the bed, and as he watched, it dimmed, but didn't vanish completely, as if someone on the other side of the spy hole blocked the light as he returned to his peeping.

Vaguely alarmed, disappointed that Philip would allow someone to watch them, Blair glanced sharply at his lover, expecting Jim to be using his senses to discover who was on the other side of the wall, and what their intentions were. To his surprise, he was oblivious, not only to their spectator, but to Blair's distraction. For a split second, Blair was angry, thinking that it was because Jim had given permission for them to be spied on, maybe even video-taped, but as quickly as that crossed his mind, he dismissed it and the irrational anger. He knew his lover and sentinel better than that. Jim might tease and hint and tantalize, but never without Blair's permission, and he would never truly reveal and share what was his. That was simply part and parcel of what the sentinel was.

Then Blair looked more closely at his lover's expression and realized that Jim didn't know about their audience because Jim didn't have a rational thought left in his head. He was all passion and senses, functioning as an animal in the throes of heat, intent on only one thing – satisfying the drive to mate and possess. It usually took chains and hours of sexual torment to bring him to that level of arousal, and yet this time Jim had voluntarily surrendered his self-control instead of containing it to guarantee Blair's pleasure and safety.

Instantly forgetting about their audience, a shard of pure lust cutting through his middle, Blair reveled in the gift he'd been given, all unaware. For the first time Jim was willingly, truly using him for his own pleasure, in the sure knowledge that Blair not only wanted and needed him to, but that it would only make it better for both of them. The very thought inflamed every primal hunger and urge he'd ever had, and a few that he'd never suspected, and he writhed, suddenly unbearably desperate for more than the well-oiled strokes over his body. But he kept his hands where they had been placed, and he didn't try to take what he wanted, accepting the gift for the treasure it was.

Small begging noises began to spill from him, and Jim answered his pleas by abruptly flicking off the nipple clamps and holding him down as Blair howled at the sharp stab of blood returning to the tortured bits. No sooner had he caught his breath from that when Jim laid oil-drenched palms over the abused tits, the heat and slick from them easing the pain and spiraling straight into Blair's already rock-hard dick. Without meaning to, he began to buck upwards, trying to find some relief for the ache in his gut, but to his dismay, Jim pulled away completely, kneeling between his legs again, languidly handling his own erection and balls.

"Look at me," he ordered softly. "Look at what you've done to me."

Blair obeyed, licking dry lips and stilling his hips from sheer necessity. "Don't expect me to be sorry for it," he said huskily. "Don't expect me not to try my damndest to do it to you as often as I can, because my ass was made for that cock, and it was made for your whore."

The smile that blossomed on Jim's face was an insane mix of happiness and smug complacency. "My sweet bitch, my cock-hungry hole," he murmured, and slid over Blair, chest rubbing from crotch to tits as he slithered up and entered him slowly but surely. As he gasped at the rush from the huge cock filling him, Jim hands glided over Blair's arms, locking over his wrists to hold him in place both with his grip and his weight. Holding his eyes, Jim said, "Don't move. Just lay there and take what you've got coming, whore."

Mutely nodding, trembling from head to toe, Blair flexed his fingers around the metal rod, not at all sure he could do as told. Then Jim flowed away from him, totally withdrawing from his body, and Blair couldn't prevent a soft moan of disappointment and loss from escaping. By some miracle his hands stayed put, however, and a second later he was grateful when his lover nodded approvingly and immediately slipped onto and into him again, this time weaving his fingers into Blair's curls.

Taking his mouth ruthlessly, Jim lay on him heavily, only his tongue thrusting deep and demanding while his hard-on throbbed motionlessly inside him. Passively accepting the oral ravishment, Blair fought to do as he'd been ordered, but the imperative to fuck quickly eroded away his control, and he whimpered in frustration even as he tightened his hold on the metal bar to the point his fingers creaked in protest. Ignoring both sounds, Jim simply glided away and out again, finding Blair's eyes with his own as he left his body, taking his erection in hand to squeeze just under the head, obviously to hold off his climax.

Poised just beyond reach, lust burning in his gaze and from his body, Jim teased his own nipples, breathing heavily. He remained that way for so long that Blair had to bite his lips to remind himself to stay put, and he frantically scrabbled through his brain for some way to seduce his lover back into him. "Please," he finally whispered, when he couldn't stand it any longer. "Please.Come back to me, touch me. Please."

"You beg so nicely," Jim said hoarsely. "Do it some more, bitch."

"Fuck me, please," Blair said willingly, eagerly. "Don't leave me alone and empty like this, please. Please."

"Yeah, real nice," Jim murmured, and slid onto him, hands leading the way, fastening onto Blair's wrists as he drove himself into him. "So nice," he said into the curve of Blair's shoulder, biting it hard enough to bruise. He squirmed, rubbing over the hard-on pressed between them, then bit the other side in the matching spot.

Groaning as much from the delicious friction on his cock as from the sweet sting of teeth, Blair said, "I can't help it. Need you, My Own. Love having you on me, love having you in me, just love you so much. So much."

Jim drew away, fingers dragging down the length of Blair's torso as he sat back on his heels. "Say it again, just like that. Again, Blair."

Finding and holding his lover's eyes, Blair said softly, "Love being fucked by you, love fucking you, love living with you, love you, love you, love you...." He would have repeated the last two words infinitely, but Jim slammed into him as he sealed Blair's lips with his own, hips finally starting the steady hammering they both craved. No power on Earth could have stopped Blair from answering those sharp, hard thrusts, and he wound his arms and legs around his lover, his mate, digging his heels into the small of Jim's back.

Roaring, Jim came, and the hot flood of his seed thrumming through the thick shaft against the sensitive walls of Blair's channel was all he needed to pull Blair into release with him. They clung to each other as their bodies strained to become even closer, then as strength and passion waned, they melted together, automatically fitting themselves so that they could easily pant and pet their way through the blissful aftermath.

It wasn't until sleep had nearly overtaken the ecstasy that Jim whispered into Blair's ear, almost too softly to be heard, "Love you, Blair. Love you."

Jarred awake, Blair hugged him tightly, choking on unexpected emotions storming through the glow of being well-laid. Finally, finally, he thought. Realizing all too well what the cost to his lover's heart was for the quiet, dangerous confession, he said simply, "I know. I've always known, My Own."

Jim muttered something nonsensical that sounded loving for all that, and tried to snuggle a millimeter closer, then started softly snoring. Petting the short hair at the back of his head, Blair looked sharply at the sudden blink of bright light from the spy-hole, recognizing the muffled groan of completion he heard as Sharl's ruined voice. Hiding his face against the chest protectively over him, Blair hoped that the young man took more from his peeping than a climax, and let himself follow his mate into contented sleep.


finis