It was the assignment from hell, Blair decided, long before he and Jim were dragged into it. Otherwise the Feds wouldn't have been so eager to dump a simple witness protection case on Cascade Police Department. Obviously suspecting that, Simon had tried everything to keep it off Major Crimes' back, pointing out to the mayor the already enormous workload his detectives labored under.
But their witness, serious slime or not, was the only man who could bring down the Markham Cartel; the only one who had the names, dates and places that nailed down the other evidence that had been painstakingly accumulated. The Cartel was perfectly aware of that, and the contract on Mackelroy was so high that even honest cops could be tempted. Like it or not, that put him square in Banks' jurisdiction, and the Captain had unwillingly, grudgingly buckled down to take care of the man. Every officer in his department did as well, including Blair, not that anybody would have objected if their consultant had found a way to get out of it. Been blackly envious, maybe, not but upset.
Mackelroy really was that slimy, to the point no one even joked about it. Apparently his hatred of bathing was matched only by his love of rich foods, making him hard to bear from purely esthetic reasons. Even being fat and oily could have been overlooked, though, if the man wasn't such a complete and total asshole who seemed to delight in making others miserable. In fact, the only good thing the FBI did before dumping him and running was to warn Banks not to have women on the staff protecting Mackelroy. He'd already attempted to rape one female officer and had harassed another until the woman had tried to feed him one of his own shoes - with the aid of a cattle prod.
With too much official attention on his people and their charge, Simon did what he could to distribute the load fairly among the detectives and provided a safe house that gave them room to dodge Mackelroy while keeping an eye on him. Blair knew that Simon had done his best, and had tried even harder to keep Jim out of it completely. Whether it was because of the sentinel's sensitive nose or out of fear for his best detective losing his somewhat legendary temper, Blair couldn't be sure. Either way, he and Jim were on the back shift so that their contact with Mackelroy would be curtailed by sleep.
Unfortunately, it wasn't curtailed *enough.* And Mackelroy wasn't straight enough, either, for Jim and Blair's peace of mind. From the first time they had met, Blair had been able to sense the man's sexual interest in him, could practically feel the empty, dark brown eyes wandering over him, leaving shuddery trails of disgust, like a slug crawling on his bare skin. He gagged internally every time Mackelroy came near and unashamedly kept someone, anyone, between them.
Anyone except Jim.
His partner and lover could barely restrain himself from choking Mackelroy to death for even thinking of handling what was his. Jim's complete and utter disgust for who and what the man was actually was incidental to the fact that the crook had the balls to touch Blair. Though the other cops joked about turning Ellison loose, they surprisingly closed ranks around the partners and did their best to shield them whenever possible.
It just wasn't enough. A dozen times in the week they'd had before the trial began, Blair had had to peel off a groping hand or push at the enormous girth to keep it a tolerable distance away. No amount of joking, reasoning, or out-and-out yelling seemed to penetrate into the grime encrusted skull to convince Mackelroy to stay away. With no other option except to abandon Jim, Blair gritted his teeth and endured, more worried about his lover than himself.
Less than seventy-two hours after they had been assigned to Mackelroy, Jim had shut off his emotions completely, going through the motions of guarding like a robot in human skin. No matter if he were at the station, the safe house or his home, he mechanically did what he needed to do, softening only when he pulled Blair close to him for sleep.
Understanding that it was Jim's way of handling his fury and frustration, Blair didn't complain or try to chip away at the facade. Instead he tried to be extra attentive in small ways, stealing hidden touches or murmuring soft words for Jim's ears alone. Risky as it was, it was doing too much good for both of them for him to stop.
Either Mackelroy noticed and decided that being in a gay relationship already made Blair fair game, or he simply got tired of being rebuffed. A few nights before he was scheduled to testify, he walked into a small guest bathroom off the kitchen that Blair was about to exit and mashed his huge bulk into him, pinning him to a wall, arms trapped between them. Rubbing lewdly over him, he tried to take Blair's mouth, apparently not caring about the curses coming from it. He had time for one blubbery slobber in the general vicinity of Blair's lips before he was plucked away as if he weighed nothing.
Jim hurled Mackelroy out into the kitchen, nearly hitting Rafe in the process, leaving Blair crumpled on the floor trying to get his breath. Blair watched as the enormous man skidded into the counter, bounced off of it, and came back at Jim, fist upraised. Catching the wrist and twisting it until Blair could hear the bones creak, Jim forced the creep backwards, using a knee in his crotch to bend him back over the counter he'd hit earlier.
"We only need," Jim said dispassionately, blue eyes stabbing lethally into Mackelroy, ignoring his shrieks of pain, "for you to be able to talk. Any other function on your part is strictly optional."
Terrified of what his lover was going to do, Blair gasped a 'no', but Jim gave no sign of hearing. "Did you know that if you break someone's back here...." he went on, giving an extra hard push to illustrate the location, "that a man will become paralyzed from the waist down? No more fun time for Mr. Happy. And if you break his back here...." Jim adjusted their position with a shove. "He's paralyzed from the chest down? No more fun times at all." Leaning in, sounding arctic cold and as deadly, he finished, "Break your neck here and you won't even be able to swallow or breathe on your own. Respirator and feeding tube time."
"I'll have your badge!" Mackelroy blustered, despite looking to Blair as if he were going to cry. "I'll have everything you own if you don't get your hands off me now!"
"You can have it," Jim answered calmly. "For all the good it will do you in the nursing home. Not to mention it will be very, very easy for the Cartel to find a quadriplegic. You won't get to enjoy my meager assets for long."
Frantic, Blair levered himself up enough to grab onto the bathroom sink, needing to stop Jim, to call him back to sanity before he went too far.
"Son of a bitch," Mackelroy shouted, heaving against Jim's hold.
With a feral gleam finally breaking through his emotionless front, Jim simply pushed back, and swung up his open hand to slap the meaty jowls in front of him. "You. Will. Not. Touch. My. Partner. Ever. Again." He emphasized each word with a smack, and by the fourth one Mackelroy was blubbering, and Blair could see a wet stain spread over the front of his pants on the sixth.
Jim stepped back, not even breathing hard, and said, "Am I understood?"
"I'll kill you," the crying man muttered. "I'll kill you."
"Not before I put you in the hospital for good." Jim turned on his heel and stalked away to help Blair the rest of the way to his feet. Expression neutral, he said, "Call Simon and report me, now." Even as he spoke, his hands flitted over Blair's body, making sure that he was unharmed. Holding in a sigh, Blair thumped him on the chest, both to reassure Jim and to make him back off a step as he pulled out his cell.
If Mackelroy felt any triumph at Jim's suspension from duty a few grueling hours later, he didn't dare show it. With the news of what happened to him broadening everyone's grin, he didn't even have the nerve to be his usual obnoxious self. One feeble try was met with a derisive, 'want me to change your diapers, too, sweetie?' which made him back off and hide in his room while Simon arranged replacements for Blair and Jim.
Blair couldn't help but grin when that happened, shrugging off Simon's correcting glare without any guilt. Not that Banks was any better; he distinctly heard the captain mutter something about Internal Affairs giving Ellison a medal, not a letter in his folder. Only Jim remained impassive through it all, giving short answers in a wooden voice to any questions asked, and surrendering his badge without a flicker of emotion.
Hoping that Jim would mellow into his usual self on the way home, Blair hid his worry when he didn't, but hardened even further, making the cab of the truck practically vibrate with tension. Afraid at some level of his mind that Jim was actually blaming him for being assaulted, Blair retreated into his own thoughts, fighting off waves of distress and anger. Absorbed in mentally composing speeches in his own self-defense and berating himself for being disappointed when Jim hadn't actually said or done anything negative yet, he was startled when Jim pulled over at a bus stop, and put the truck in park.
"We need to be someplace safe for a while," Jim said flatly. "Do you have your key with you?"
Blair couldn't have been more astounded if Jim had suggested they go to a local strip bar and pick up a woman. "Of course, man," he said hastily, pulling up his jaw. "You know that key ring never leaves me unless I'm home. Hey, I'd give a mugger my wallet, my laptop, my car keys, everything, then fight him to keep that one key. Crazy, I know, I mean, it's not like a key is the only way to go there, it's the symbology involved, and, hey, symbols are what we live by, whether we know it or not. I mean...." With a vast effort Blair clamped down on his runaway mouth, which was only running because he didn't have a clue what was going on with his lover, making him very, very nervous.
Thankfully, Jim's face softened, a promise of a smile flirting around the edges of his lips. "I can't agree with you more. That's why I want...." He stopped, dropped his eyes to where his hands were locked around the steering wheel, then finished, "Why I *need* for us to be safe for a while."
It was an enormous admission on his part, and Blair responded by scooting close enough to run a soothing hand over the tense shoulder. "Yes," he said simply. "Want me to stop by the loft first and pick up a few things?"
Shivering under Blair's caress, Jim shook his head, once. "I'll do it and meet you there later, okay?"
This time Blair was the one who shivered. Their agreement was that whoever arrived first at their safe house/Playroom was the one submitting for the duration. Jim was indirectly asking him to be bottom, and he was astonished to realize that was what he needed, as well, to obliterate Mackelroy's taint. "Sounds good," he agreed slowly. "Anything in particular you want me to do to get ready?"
"Yeah," Jim sighed. "Wash! He got his stink all over you and it's killing me!"
Seeing the bus come around the block, Blair kissed him quickly, opening the door as he did. "No problem whatsoever. Hope the feel of him washes off, too. UGH!"
"I'll take care of that if it doesn't, my whore," Jim promised. "Be careful," he cautioned almost automatically. "I'll be there soon."
Nodding in acknowledgment, Blair stared at him, letting the love he felt shine in his eyes, then tore himself away to run for the bus stop.
When he arrived at their Playroom, he set about taking care of the few chores necessary to make it livable. He and Jim used it so seldom that it made more sense to keep the rooms packed up in storage, than to leave them ready for occupancy. Thermostat turned up, satin sheets on the bed, hot water turned on, ventilation on high to air it out, then back to normal so he could sweeten the room with the scent of their favorite candles - just moving through that simple routine was enough to put Blair in the right frame of mind for Play.
The outside world receded, slipping almost entirely from his mind, and by the time there was enough hot water to run the jacuzzi, Mackelroy wasn't even a bad memory. Half hard in anticipation of his lover joining him, Blair slid into the vigorously bubbling water, and let the action loosen and relax him in preparation for the rest of the evening. He soaked until some innate instinct told him it was time to finish readying himself. Dressing in loose, warm sweats, he dried and brushed his hair, leaving it down for Jim's pleasure.
He'd just finished with that and was filling a basin with warm water to wash his lover's feet when he heard the quiet chime that warned someone was entering their rooms. A second later the 'all clear' chime told him that it was Jim, safely alone, and Blair padded barefoot toward the front door, towel and basin on hand, a soft smile on his lips. His mate met him almost at the bathroom entrance, long legs covering the space of the main room quickly.
Before Blair had time to do more than broaden his smile, Jim took away the water and towel and kissed him demandingly, holding his head tightly with long fingers tangled in his curls. Melting instantly under the onslaught of hunger, Blair molded himself to Jim, vaguely annoyed that they weren't naked. By the time he was released, he was completely breathless and completely erect, more than ready for whatever was wanted of him.
Brushing their lips together lightly, Jim stared into his eyes for a minute, his own slowly darkening to the near black that Blair associated with the insane passion that could claim his sentinel at times. It made him harder, and he nervously tasted his own lips, inviting to be kissed again.
Instead Jim murmured, "Present."
Even as he dropped to all fours, whirling so that his backside was to his lover and tugging down his pants, Blair shoved down a screech of pure lust that wanted to break through his chest. He held his pose for the slow count of three that Jim had taught him to do, then dropped his head to his forearms, raising his hips as high as he could in a wanton display of availability for anything Jim wanted.
What Jim wanted apparently, was in. With no preliminaries whatsoever, Blair felt the blunt head of his lover's huge cock at his opening, then he was penetrated in a rush of pure sensation that released the scream he'd denied a moment earlier. There was no pain in it. His body accepted the massive thing, rushing to conform to the length and thickness with powerful waves of muscular spasms that were almost as good as being fucked.
Trembling, he rode through the pleasure, waiting for Jim to actually start moving in him, eager noises spilling without his permission from his mouth. To his surprise, Jim didn't thrust again, but pressed in harder, hands holding the front of Blair's thighs so tightly, he could feel the bruises coming up already. Unable to help himself, he writhed on the rod piercing him, trying to encourage Jim to move, already, dammit, but only got another millimeter or so crammed into him.
Then there was a quiver in Jim's body, one that seemed to emanate from where they were joined, and a throb told him that Jim was coming, splashing his seed so deeply inside Blair that he wouldn't have been surprise to taste it. His own hard-on twitched in sympathy, but close as he was, thrilled as he was by the abrupt way Jim was using him, he couldn't quite come. Moaning in frustration, he reached down to touch himself, only to have his lover block access.
"No," Jim grunted, then he withdrew as abruptly as he'd taken Blair. "Go to the bed, strip and kneel in the middle of it." He stood, his still hard cock jutting obscenely from his opened pants.
Shakily, Blair did as he was told, feeling Jim's fluid seep from him, his body aching, not from misuse, but in longing for more. Reining in his nervous anticipation, trying to calm his breathing, he waited on the bed to see what Jim would do next. Whatever small amount of composure he had wavered, seriously thinking about deserting when Jim retrieved their toy bag from where he had dropped it, along with his shoes, at the front door. A second later, it did depart, as he took out the one dildo that Blair had never been able to decide if he loved or hated.
Size-wise, it was actually somewhat smaller and thinner than Jim's dick was, but because it was made of hard plastic instead of a more yielding latex, it felt bigger. And as nice as the ribs on it were, pushing past the ring of muscle that guarded Blair's channel, they also irritated those delicate tissues very quickly. He didn't say anything, though, since Jim already knew all that, and, to judge by the intent expression on his face, it wouldn't do any good. Blair seldom saw his rigidly controlled sentinel turn loose the animal that lived at the heart of him, and almost never when he wasn't safely under Blair's command.
Jim was skating on the edge between making love with his partner and using what he owned - bought and paid for with his own heart, soul and body - with the kind of careless disregard one could treat a possession. Blair wanted to shove him over that edge and go with him, screaming and coming, all the way down into the fire pit, sure there would only be ecstasy waiting there to consume them.
Since the last thing he wanted was to direct his lover in any way, which would distract Jim and allow him to draw back and regain his self-control, Blair waited, gut quaking and hard-on thrumming.
Giving him the toy and some lube, Jim instructed briskly, "Pleasure yourself. Come if you want, but *do not* touch yourself in any way except to use that."
Taking it, thinking he should feel self-conscious at Jim's eyes on him as he slathered gel on the plastic and into himself, Blair spread his knees as far apart as he comfortably could and seated the dildo, groaning once as it initially entered. From under lowered lashes, he watched Jim as he masturbated, hoping to see the black fire in his eyes leap a bit higher.
There was a quick glimpse of it, then Jim turned away, strolling away from the bed and into the bath as if what was happening on it was of no importance. Knowing better, Blair hid a smile behind the fall of his hair. He had no doubt that sentinel senses were locked on him, keeping him as close to Jim as if they shared the same skin. That knowledge made what he was doing erotic and compelling, instead of awkward and embarrassing.
With genuine enthusiasm he used the tool on himself, tracking Jim's whereabouts with careful glances, until he was so close to his finish that all he needed was the tiniest bit of something extra to help. Intentionally or not, Jim provided it by coming back into the main room, naked except for a broad strip of leather tied around his waist, ends knotted around his erection in a make-shift cock ring. The mere sight of that particular bit of leather, which had been a part of their lovemaking from the very first time, was all it took. With a gasp, Blair arched his back and cried out, lost for a moment as his release overwhelmed his senses.
When his head cleared, Jim was on the bed with him, gently cleaning up the evidence of his climax with a damp cloth and velvety tongue. He had taken over thrusting the dildo in and out of Blair, using a slow pace that complimented the last muscular contractions in his ass.
It felt good, in a dreamy way, and encouraged his body to take new interest in the erotic things happening to him. When he began to ride down on the intruder filling him, Jim murmured in approval and sucked lightly on his nipples. That was good, too, and Blair arched his back to offer them up better for attention, sighing when Jim increased the suction on the tiny bits of flesh, going lazily from one to the other.
Releasing them only when Blair was seriously erect again, Jim whispered, "So beautiful, my whore. So willing and hot, so eager to fuck in any way, shape or form. In a way I can't blame Mackelroy; any man who saw you like this would have to own you. But no one ever will again, because *I* do. Mouth, hands, ass - all mine, to do with what I want." He bit hard over the tit he'd just suckled, leaving teeth marks, making Blair jump and groan. "Oh, and what I want to do to you, my whore. What I want to do," he muttered when done, resting his head on Blair's breastbone.
"Yes," Blair answered, dropping a kiss on the top of his head, petting the short hair there restlessly. "Yes."
Jim shuddered, but only gave the dildo a last shove to drive it deeply into Blair. He straightened up and said, "Touch yourself. All over, any way that you want to as long as it feels good."
"I'd rather have you touch me," Blair answered as quietly, hands already skating delicately over where Jim's head had been, as if to keep the traces of warmth left there from escaping.
For a moment Jim's eyes glittered. "I know. But trust me, by the time I'm done with you tonight, you might actually even be sated of me, for once."
"Never going to happen, lover," Blair chuckled. "Never going to happen."
"We'll see," Jim half-promised, standing to dig through the duffel again. "We'll see." He took out a blindfold, showed it to Blair, then gently covered his widened-eyes, tying the leather in place with sure fingers.
Instantly plunged into darkness, Blair froze, making the internal adjustments necessary to accept this form of helplessness. He'd never understood why he found being blindfolded so scary, the good kind of scary that comes from sneaking into a 'haunted house' or taking on a dare. There was always a mad instant of pure panic that set his heart racing, but which also made his dick rock hard.
His hands had stopped when the blackness took him, but a solid smack to his backside, making him involuntarily tighten on the plastic inside him, sent a blast of pain/pleasure over every nerve and set them slowly in motion again. For the first time Blair was timid in his obedience, finding it difficult to perform for Jim when he couldn't see his reaction.
With a growl, Jim repeated, "I said touch yourself," and hit his bare ass again, then again when Blair's hesitant strokes over his tummy didn't please him.
He had hot spots from Jim's blows all over his buttocks, thighs, and lower back by the time the combination of stinging, sensitive skin and continuous jolts of sensation from his over-stuffed passage overcame his reticence, allowing him to enjoy what was happening. Deliberately he skimmed his fingertips lightly over his own flesh, the contrast between that and Jim's strength making him hyperaware of every inch of his body. Nor was touch that the only sense functioning at maximum ability.
Every little rustle of movement, every soft intake of breath from Jim echoed loudly in Blair's ears, easily overcoming the harsh sound of his own pants and whimpers. From hearing alone he knew where Jim stood in relationship to him and the bed, knew when he moved to a better position, knew when he rummaged through the toy bag for something new to use on his captive.
Despite that, the bite of the nipple clamps caught him off guard, and he jerked, almost toppling over. Jim steadied him, gave him a quick kiss and lick at each clamp, then stepped away. "Keep going."
It wasn't a hard order to obey, normally, but his attention was torn between the pleasure of his hands and listening for his lover, expecting Jim to do something else to add to the torturous delight he was heaping on Blair. He drifted off eventually, the lure of another climax beginning to tug at him, and he was pleasurably shocked again when a cock ring was wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls, holding them snug almost, but not quite, to the point of pain.
Without being told, he felt around the straps, savoring the glide of the leather under his touch, the way it caressed the skin it held. A moment later there was more leather, a sort of hood that fastened over his erection, covering it in the best feeling this side of Jim's sweet body. He moaned, one hand jacking himself gently through the restraint, the other plucking at his captured tit, any trace of inhibition lost in the sensual spell of the leather and his lover. A strap was wrapped around his waist, catching and holding his hard-on upright against his stomach.
"Oh, oh, oh..." He rocked upward, feeling his shaft fuck the leather around it, and rocked again, knowing he could come from just that if given a chance.
"Shh," Jim cautioned, putting a finger on his lips. "Shh."
Unthinkingly Blair licked at the digit, tasting himself and the leather. "Oh, god."
"Shhh." His lover was more insistent this time.
"I can't...." Blair moaned. "Too good, too good." He drew Jim's finger into his mouth, sucking on it noisily, swirling his tongue over the pad and knuckle, letting it slip loosely in and over his lips in imitation of what he really wanted.
Tolerating it for a moment, Jim added another finger, then pulled both away with a pop. "Going to have to take care of that." Something new tapped at Blair's lower lip, asking for entry, and he sucked in the toy eagerly, not realizing until it was tied in place that it was a gag as well. That too he explored with curious fingers, shivering slightly at the contrast between his own raspy jaw and the smooth material.
His wrists were gently taken in Jim's firm grasp and pulled to the small of his back, where they were bound to each other with leather ribbons and to the band circling his waist. He couldn't help the needy pleas that rose up at that, though the gag stifled them somewhat. More leather was wrapped around his forearms, binding them together, then around his upper arms, forcing his chest out and his shoulders back.
Nor did Jim stop there. Working steadily with an occasional pleased hum or soft exclamation of pleasure, he cocooned Blair's entire torso and legs, tying knees and ankles together, leaving his lover in a kneeling position with only his ass bared, though it was bisected with the thong holding wrists to ankles.
Blair loved it; loved the security of the restraints, loved the tightness holding him, loved the vulnerable, helpless feeling it gave him. Had he been able, he could have come twice just from this unusual ritual, just from knowing that Jim was doing this to him and taking such deep pleasure from it. Even when a strap was added to the back of his gag, fastened to his hands to pull his head back to bare his throat, all he could think of was how easy it would be to fuck his mouth in that position.
"Beautiful," Jim whispered, his breath tickling Blair's ear. "Absolutely beautiful. All you are, right now, sweet whore, is a hole for me to use, whether it's this one." He tapped lightly on the gag. "Or this one." He tugged at the nearly forgotten toy inside Blair. "Only one last, little finishing touch...." A leather collar was lovingly buckled into place around Blair's neck, making him moan with happiness.
There was a tug on it. He realized a leash trailed from the back, where it dangled loosely over his naked bottom for a moment before Jim fastened it to something - one of the supports over head, from the sound of things. A moment later an object was pressed into his hand; a bit of thought identified it as a small cat toy: a ball with a bell inside it. His 'safe word' then. Without hesitation, he tossed it away as far as he could, given the limited motion he could make.
Jim put it back and said softly, "I'm too close to the edge, Blair, and there's no panic button for us to hit here."
Throwing it away again, Blair was absolutely confident if he so much as grunted in real pain, Jim would cut off a climax to find out why. No matter how hot Jim burned, no matter how far away his thinking mind was, he wouldn't allow any harm to come to him. In fact, having the sentinel part of him so un-obscured by civilized thought processes would only help ensure that his mate was safe.
"Blair!" Jim put it back, but Blair caught his fingers as he did, running his thumb lightly over them as he let the ball drop yet again. It was the shove he'd been hoping for earlier, the one thing needed to send Jim tumbling out of control, putting them both at the mercy of his needs.
With a hoarse shout, Jim hunched himself onto Blair, rubbing his damp hard-on over the exposed buttocks, licking and biting at the tender skin around the collar. His fingers found holds in the leather surrounding his lover, and Jim used them to keep him steady as he humped frantically over cheeks, cleft and the small expanse of thigh left unhidden by the ribbons. It wasn't enough, and the bed bounced crazily as Jim clambered to his feet, hanging onto the overhead posts, and positioned himself in front of Blair.
The gag was hastily removed, but before Blair had time to do more than suck in one deep breath, his mouth was filled again with the weeping crown of Jim's cock. Taste exploding over his tongue, he opened as wide as he could to accommodate Jim's great size, not really able to do more than that to encourage him. It was enough; long fingers spread over the top of Blair's head, pulling it back and forth in time to Jim's ragged thrusts. Keening deep inside himself with the joy of being used, Blair writhed against his bonds, desperately needing to come himself.
With a shout, Jim did, flooding Blair's taste buds with the bitter, welcome tang of his essence, and he worked to swallow it all without choking. Unthinkingly Jim drew back enough to help with that, causing some of his cream to spill around the edges of the lips sealed around his shaft.
Drops of it splattered onto Blair's chest, trailing wetly down to his nipple, and that minor sensation among the many enlivening his skin was one too much. He drank down the last dreg, then released Jim's cock to rest his face on the hot, satin of his stomach. "Let me come," he begged hoarsely. "Please, please, let me. Let me."
Steadying him carefully, Jim sank to his knees, holding away Blair's head as he did to dry chin and lips with the discarded sweatshirt. "Soon," he murmured. "Soon." He dusted small kisses over the upturned features, tugged playfully with his teeth at the mask over the eyes, took one long, deep kiss, then replaced the dildo gag.
Caught in silence and sensual darkness, immobilized with loving bonds, all Blair could do was accept the soft kisses and licks that Jim bestowed on him. Every inch of flesh not hidden behind the sweet grip of the leather was given thorough attention, leaving it tingling and alert, ready for more and sending Blair further and further into a place where only his lover's mouth and pure delight existed.
Eventually he realized that Jim was doing something else as he orally tormented Blair, but it wasn't until he inadvertently tried to shift positions that he understood that ropes were being attached to the leather. In turn they had been securely fastened to the posters and supports of the bed, leaving him suspended like a fly in a spider's web. For a split second terror flashed through him, and he fought, finding that he couldn't move, couldn't so much as turn his head or straighten his legs.
Then Jim cupped both sides of his face, fingers smoothing through his hair, lips against an ear. "Shh, shh, lover. Shhh. Only me, only pleasure. No psychos, no criminals, no threats."
Breathing hard through his nose, feeling the irrational edge of suffocation, Blair made himself go limp and concentrated on the low, rich voice with its promises, the scent of his lover, the strength in the hands holding him.
"That's it, my whore, my own sweet whore, that's it." Jim stroked the side of Blair's face, then down over his body, stopping to pluck at the clamps holding his erect nipples. The sharp zing of it was good, distracting, and he moaned, wishing he could ask for more. As if reading his mind, Jim did it again, then bent to bite. That sent Blair tumbling back into the universe of feeling, and he actually found the security of his bindings a blessing. *All* he had to do was feel; he didn't even have to think about staying upright any longer.
As a reward, Jim finally loosened the cock ring and pushed aside the hood, taking Blair down his throat with a single lunge, giving the toy inside him a strong push as he did. Screaming through his gag, Blair emptied himself into that hungry mouth, not able to thrust, but straining into it with all he had, his very lack of mobility concentrating the force of his climax, making so intense that the ecstasy from it nearly ripped him apart.
It was Jim lovingly stroking him from shoulder to thigh, over and over again, that put him back together, sweat-soaked and so satisfied he didn't think he'd be able to get it up again if he had to. "Good?" Jim asked.
With a snort, Blair told him good was something of an understatement, and his lover laughed, replacing the sheath over his cock and refastening the cock ring loosely. "I'll tighten that later," Jim murmured.
Snorting again, this time at the notion that there was going to be a later, Blair exaggeratedly sagged into his restraints, wanting to convey that he was used up, wasted. The laugh that Jim used this time was so wicked, so provocative, that against all odds, Blair felt a tingle of interest in his middle. With a little groan, he wiggled, unable to believe that he was good for anything except to passively accept Jim's need.
A minute later Jim removed his blindfold, carefully shielding his eyes until he got used to the candlelight. When he'd blinked away the tears from the change, Blair saw a small television at the foot of the bed that had not been there when his eyes had been covered. Raising an eyebrow in question, he looked at his lover, and got another tingle of arousal, one much sharper and well defined.
Completely hard, dick sheathed the same way Blair's was, Jim looked ready to plow Blair's ass with his monster cock until they were both raw and bleeding from the force of his fucking. His eyes were totally wild, totally colored with a lust so profound, Blair could have happily dived into the heart of it and never come up for air again.
Moaning, he tried to tell Jim with his eyes that it was okay, he wanted to be taken, even if all he got from it was the pleasure of the knowledge that Jim was using him. In the uncanny way his sentinel had when they Played this way, Jim shook his head in negation. "Oh, I will have you, my own, but you'll beg me to, first. I like to hear a whore beg for his pleasure. In fact, I like to make you scream for it." His words were thick, as if being forced out by will through the need obviously commanding the solid body. "It's not that difficult. Shall I show you?" He gestured at the TV screen a few feet away, then hit a button on the remote that had been carelessly tossed onto the bed.
The television filled with an easily recognizable image: him, blindfolded, caressing himself as Jim spanked him. His lover had videotaped their earlier love play. A quick glance found the camera; another showed Jim idly stroking his hard-on as he studied the image on the tube. Despite himself, Blair whimpered, feeling a sluggish throb in his cock.
Jolted out of his reverie, Jim grinned. "Oh, it gets better, my whore. Much better." Turning his back to the TV, but not blocking Blair's view of it, he bent his head to lave the area around the metal still holding his lover's nipples, then hung a tiny weight off the end of the clamp, pulling on the sensitive tip. It didn't quite hurt, didn't quite feel good, either, and Blair squirmed internally at the sensation, mostly distracted by what he was watching on the screen. The other was treated the same way, and he grunted a little as the feeling began to resolve itself into something very nice, something that encouraged the random flashes of sexual interest in his hardening dick. Weights were added to the bindings on his balls, pulling them in the same way, but resolving more quickly into a mostly pleasurable feeling.
Jim sat back on his heels, admired his handiwork, then flicked both nipples, making Blair scream and thrash in his web. He waited until his captive calmed and was drawn back into the action on the screen, then flicked him again, adding a snap to the weights on his balls as well. Even half expecting it, the feeling slammed into Blair, and he shook with the force of it, moaning continuously deep in his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from the tape replaying his slow cocooning in leather.
Without warning Jim reached around Blair and yanked out the dildo that had filled him for so long, letting his asshole spasm shut with another bolt that hovered between good and hurt. Fingers probed the ring of muscle, both soothing and exciting, left, came back slick with a generous portion of lube. Hoping - needing - that Jim was preparing him to be entered, Blair welcomed the probes with powerful squeezes, squirming down on them as much as his bonds would allow.
They left, teasing around the edge of his opening, over the fragile area behind his balls, up and around the curve of his backside, then came back with something hard to press into Blair. It felt odd as it went in, forcing the pucker wide open, but then it popped completely through, letting the guardian ring snap shut with a shock that tore a straggled howl out of him. Before he could recover from that, Jim put another weight on both the clamps and tugged, put a weight on his cock ring and pulled, leaving Blair shaking from the assault on his nerves.
He was also amazingly hard, hips trying futilely to answer the urge to fuck.
Another hard thing was pressed against his pucker, prying it open, then allowing it to clamp shut so quickly, it felt as though he were literally hit with pleasure. A distant part of Blair's mind finally identified what was being put in him - beads, each about the diameter of his lover's fully erect cock.
Jim repeated the sequence, seemingly at random; tug on the clamps, tug on the cock ring, force a bead in, until Blair lost track of how many were crowding his channel, and his whole body throbbed with the beat of the fire in his abused tits and balls. He was long past even whimpers, unable to brace himself in any way. Enraptured by the erotic ballet on the television as Jim snared him deeper and deeper with restraints and passion, consumed by the inferno that had been reawakened, Blair was as lost as when he'd been hidden in the dark.
The tape finally reached the point that the Blair on screen was bucking through his climax, filling Jim's mouth, the Blair on the bed was pathetically quivering, with nameless, meaningless sounds bubbling around his gag, fingers twisting mindlessly to express some small part of his overwhelming need to *move.* Laughing the same low, wicked laugh from before, Jim took off the gag, running his thumb over swollen lips, half to tease and half to be sure no damage had been done. "Do you have something to say to me, my own whore?" he asked.
For the life of him Blair couldn't think of the word that would free the enormous cock waiting for him. Mewling, he stared at what he needed, straining toward it as much as the small amount of give in the ropes would let him.
Understanding that language had pretty much deserted him, Jim brushed a stray lock of hair away from the high forehead, and murmured, "Do you want something?"
Blair knew the answer to that. "Yes!" It was more of a grunt than a word, but Jim nodded.
"What do you want?" he asked insistently.
To his relief, a noun presented itself. "Cock!" Another word surfaced, and Blair added hastily, "Please!"
His answer was more dirty laughter. "What does a cock, do, My Own?"
But 'please' had stuck in the two cells being used in Blair's mind, and he chanted, "Please, please, please, please, please," until Jim lightly slapped the fiery buds on his chest. Nearly crying, he twisted and jerked as much as he could, then, desperately remembered what Jim wanted to hear. "Fuck me?"
"Say it again," Jim ordered softly, reaching down to undo the cock ring, tossing it onto the floor negligently.
"Fuck Me!" Blair gasped, the simple action of removing that restraint almost toppling him into the relief he needed. "Fuck ME!"
"Again."
Before Blair could draw in the breath to repeat himself, Jim grabbed the last bead hanging out of the filled ass, and yanked on it hard, pulling all the ones inside of Blair out in a blurred rush that felt like he was literally being jackhammered open over and over. "FUCK ME, FUCKMEFUCK ME!!!" he screamed, a few pathetic dribbles of liquid bubbling out of his hard-on in defiance of the enormous rush of ecstasy that obliterated his consciousness.
When he scraped enough of it back together to think about anything but the way his nerves were singing hosannas, he was face down and ass up on the bed, the trailing ends of the ropes that had secured his torso snaking away over the sheets. Almost at the same time as he realized that he was instinctively rearing back onto Jim's cock, taking the whole, long, long length of it in slow, leisurely thrusts, his eyes focused on the television, showing him as he was in real time.
Behind him Jim was holding onto his hips in a white-knuckled grip, his head thrown back so far the tendons in his neck stood out in relief. His mouth hung open as he panted harshly for needed air, and the expression on his face could have been the definition of a man deep in the throes of lust. For all the urgency in the lines of the taut body, his hips rolled back and forth easily, smoothly, as if in no hurry at all to bring about the culmination intended by the act.
Sighing, wiggling in vain hopes of bringing his backside up higher, Blair hoped that there *was* no hurry. Though there was no chance of him getting it up again, it was incredibly wonderful to be taken this way, for the pure sensuality of being possessed, filled, fucked. It was almost better than sex, and in many ways, more fulfilling. Sighing happily, he divided his attention between the fantastic pummeling his ass was taking and the breath-taking beauty of his man as Jim gave it to him, as shown on the screen.
"Wish we could do this forever," he whispered.
As if that were some kind of cue that he'd been waiting for, Jim groaned painfully, then wrenched away a hand to scrabble at the restraints holding his captive's wrists. When they were gone, along with the ones woven around his arms, he started on the ropes holding Blair in place, never once missing a stroke or hastening his pace.
All but purring, Blair stretched his arms out in front of him, getting the kinks out, then put his head on his crossed arms. When he was no longer suspended from the waist down in his web, he slumped down flat onto the mattress, bones the consistency of overcooked noodles paying not attention to his wish to keep his hips up for Jim's unhurried pumping. Not that it mattered to lover; Jim simply followed him down, keeping his weight on his elbows to allow him to maintain his even strokes.
Having his weight spread over him made Blair's contentment complete, he repeated dreamily, "Wish we could do this forever."
With a soft cry, Jim picked up pace slightly, pushing Blair's pliant body into the mattress. "Yes," he moaned. "Forever. Mine. My Own. Yes."
Soaking up the thrusts, the many contrasting sensations - Jim's hardness inside, the soft slap of balls on his upturned buttocks, firm and sweaty chest crushing onto his back - Blair only mmmm'd at him, ending with an amiable. "Your Own, forever."
That undid his lover, and Jim stiffened, giving a last powerful lunge that threatened to break the bed. "Oh, god, Blair," he whispered. "Blair."
Deep within there was a pulse of heat, and he smiled, watching Jim's face contort with ecstasy as he gave up the most essential part of himself. It didn't last anywhere long enough for Blair, but he drank in every second that it did, his heart hotter and heavier than the weight securing him so wonderfully to the world. Then Jim sagged limply over him, out cold from the looks of his image on the television, unconsciously adjusting so that Blair could breathe.
Blair watched him sleep until he drifted away himself, the sight of his sentinel's head cuddled beside his, a hand curled in the middle of Blair's back, leash wrapped around it tightly, following him into dreams.