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One of my most vivid memories is of the day our band officially signed with Jupiter Records. I’d never seen Guy look so amazed, so ecstatic, not in all the years I’d known him. He’d also never looked more beautiful. His skin glowed like peaches in the afternoon sun, his eyes were glistening grey diamonds lit up by the shining brilliance of his smile.

That night, after the partying and celebrating was done, I’d gone home in a drunken haze to my small, one bedroom apartment in Midas and done terrible things to myself with the image of Guy’s beautiful face burning in my mind. Afterwards, my stomach and hand coated in the physical evidence of my shame, I put a hand to my face and cried. I was so ashamed of my feelings; I’d never once felt this way before about any man, least of all my best friend. I didn’t think anything could ever make me feel worse than I’d felt that night as I drifted aimless and confused through the dark recesses of my own mind, but that was before I met Iason Mink.


We were about three months into production on our first album and I was on edge because later that day we were supposed to be sitting down with some of the big wigs from upstairs. The glowing honeymoon phase that had lingered for about a month after our signing had long since worn off and I was quickly realizing that we would have to work harder than we’d ever worked before if this was going to work; if we were going to succeed as a group.

I must have sighed louder than I thought because Guy stopped messing with the drum pedal in front of him and came over to the small conference table in the rear of our studio where I was sitting nursing a bottle of spring water and trying to write lyrics.

“What’s up?” I asked him, trying my best to sound surprised by his sudden appearance.

Guy smiled knowingly and patted my back as he sat down. I flinched when he touched me and I was praying he hadn’t noticed.

“You’ve been sighing all day. Want to talk about it?”

I laughed internally. Yes Guy I’d love to talk about how I’m struggling to keep my head above water career wise and oh, before I forget, I’ve jerked off to you about one million times a week for the past few months. Let’s talk all about that shall we?

“No,” was the pitiful lie that came out. I took a drink of my water, but I wasn’t actually thirsty and I ended up just letting it sit in my mouth. Maybe if I tried acting apathetic he’d get bored and leave me alone? I swallowed and my throat felt like sand paper, even with the water.

It was his turn to sigh now as he tugged on his ponytail, tightening it. I loved his hair, I wanted to wrap it around my wrist and pull him down against me while he—oh god…I was doing it again. A wave of panic washed over me when I realized I was starting to get hard under the table.

“Look, I know things have been hectic for us,” Guy continued, thankfully oblivious to my condition. “We’re all stressed; me, Luke, Norris and you too it seems like.” He moved a bit closer to me, adjusting himself in his chair so he was turned toward me. I countered his move and brought myself in closer to the table to hide the fucking chubby in my pants.

 “I’ve felt some distance between us lately, Riki, and that’s totally cool man; things have been nuts, I know. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay up here.” He tapped my forehead, smiling encouragingly.

God, his smile was infectious; like looking at a little brown puppy. Only people don’t close their bedroom doors at night and think about fucking their puppies, or at least, I hoped to God they didn’t.

Guy was sitting so close to me I could smell his sandalwood aftershave; the warm scent of it coming off his skin in cloying waves made me want to jump him then and there. Why I’d been so fucking horny these past few months I had no idea. I guess there was just something about him, something that, once I realized it was there, my mind couldn’t let go of. His close proximity to me at work and my incurably perverted mind were consistently working against me, bending me to their will. It had gotten so bad that I’d found myself having to jerk off during the day sometimes just to keep from walking around with a raging fucking boner. It was why I’d been avoiding him whenever possible and why I was now trapped in this discussion with him.

I nodded my head. “Yeah no, I’m cool. Just stressed out like you said.” I even smiled, because I needed him to believe me. I needed him to leave so I could get out of there and cool my brain, and my dick, off.

My response must have satisfied him, because he smiled at me again.

“I thought so, but that’s cool. As long as you’re okay.”

“I am. Really, Guy.” I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. Not now. Not ever. The thought of him leaving when he found out I had the hots for him haunted every orgasm I’d had at his expense these past few months and I was determined to never let that happen. I’d rather die than live without him.

Before he stood up, he reached over and rubbed my head the same way he had since we were little kids. One of his rings momentarily snagged in my hair and I felt a tingle shoot down my spine all the way to the tip of my cock. I tried as hard as I could not to shudder.

“Alright good talk man, but better get back to it. Katze is giving us the stink eye from over there,” he pointed behind him with his thumb at our red-haired manager. He was impatiently tapping his foot and glaring between us and the clock on the wall above the door.

I forced another smile and picked up my pen. “Yeah, right, back to it. He’s a scary mother fucker, we better not piss him off.”

Guy nodded. “You got that right,” he replied through a laugh as he walked off toward his drum kit.

I breathed a momentary sigh of relief and thanked whatever deities were watching over me that he hadn’t noticed my erection. I looked up at the clock, tapping my pen anxiously. Five minutes was all I needed, just to make sure he would be immersed enough in his work that he wouldn’t follow me out of the room. The time passed slowly, but once I was sure I could leave undetected I made a break for it.  The hallways leading away from our studio were blissfully empty as I wormed my way through the building toward the private executive bathrooms three floors above ours. Technically we weren’t supposed to use them, since we had our own set of facilities closer to our studio, but I knew if Guy came after me he’d go to the closest ones. I couldn’t let him catch me in there.

As I had done several times before, I snuck past the receptionist’s station and a couple of open doors before ducking into the men’s room.

Finally. I was alone. I glared angrily at my crotch. “This is all your fault,” I muttered as I entered the single stall.

For a men’s washroom, this one was immaculately clean. Actually, most of the facilities in the JR building were now that I thought about it. I never saw any cleaning staff so I’m not sure how they manage to keep them so clean, but either way it was kind of nice. Back when we were still gigging for cash at bars and clubs, I’d had to use some pretty fucked up men’s rooms. Barf, shit, piss, cum, you name it I’d seen it smeared across a bathroom wall or floor; even a ceiling once too, which was impressive, as well as disgusting. But really what was to be expected? Men are disgusting creatures by nature, and so it’s only par for the course that if you get them drunk and have them all converge to empty their bodies of waste in the same small, twelve foot by thirty foot public space, things are going to get a little messy. That was one of a million things that didn’t make sense to me about my infatuation with Guy. He was a man, he should gross me out, but instead he just made me want to fuck him more than I’d ever wanted to fuck anyone in my life. He looked like a man, and smelled like a man; walked like one, talked like one, did weird disgusting shit like one and I didn’t care in the least. I wanted him and there was no way my brain was going to listen to things like “reason”.

Leaning my forearm up against the black marble wall of the double wide stall, I leaned forward and yanked my pants down around my hips; underwear included. I spit in my hand and took hold of my cock, gasping at the cool sensation of my saliva on my hot skin. I knew already that it wouldn’t take much for me to cum, but I only got one good long stroke in before I heard the bathroom door open. I panicked momentarily, wondering if Guy had followed me after all, but the sharp click of heeled boots on the tile floor calmed me down.  Guy was wearing sneakers today.

My relief that whoever it was wasn’t Guy was near-instantly replaced by suspicion when I heard the lock being turned on the door. This guy was probably one of those weird neurotic types who needed complete silence in order to take a piss, but whatever that was his business. I would just wait until he left and finish up my own. The boot clicks moved across the room a few steps toward the urinals.

I waited there, more than a bit awkwardly with my dick in my hand, for this fucker to get to it, but the longer I waited the more anxious I grew. Did he know I was in here? What was this guy’s deal? Why didn’t he just leave and find another men’s room?

Out of nowhere a deep, smooth voice echoed off the walls of the immaculate bathroom.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

I froze, realizing that he was talking to me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to answer him, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t here either because he obviously must have seen me go in. The boots clicked again and I saw the shined tips of them just under the stall wall. He was too close, I had to say something.

“Uh, sorry I didn’t know.  I’ll just—”

“You duck past the receptionist to come in here several times a week, so forgive me for not buying your innocent act.”

I was getting irritated now. “And who the fuck are you, the bathroom cop? What’s it to you where I go to take a shit?”

There was no reply, only soft, muffled, laughter.

“You think I don’t know what you actually come in here to do?”

My skin crawled. Who the fuck was this creepy asshole and how in the hell did he know I came in here to jerk off? I slipped my dick—now almost completely soft thanks to Captain Creeper—back into my underwear and tugged up my pants. If I was going to confront this weirdo I was not doing it with my dick hanging out.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before sliding back the lock and pushing the door open.

“Look asshole, I don’t—”

I didn’t get two steps out of the stall before I was being forced back into it by one of the tallest men I’d ever seen in my life. I screamed as he flipped me around and pushed me face first up against the rear wall of the stall, prompting him to press a gloved hand over my mouth.

“Come now, don’t make this difficult,” he whispered in my ear. “This is something we both want.”

I struggled and tried to fight back against him, but he was much stronger than me. I felt dwarfed both in height and musculature as he pressed me against the wall like I was a flimsy rag doll. With two quick tugs he had my pants pulled down around my hips, the top of my ass just barely exposed. I cried out again, trying to alert someone to what was going on, but even I could barely hear myself through his hand and glove.

“Even if you screamed at the top of your lungs, no one would hear you. The private bathrooms are as soundproof as your studio.” He did the opposite of what I was expecting him to do, and pulled his hand away from my mouth.

“Get the fuck off me you piece of fucking shit!” I cried, struggling futilely, trying with all my might to jab him in the ribs or stomach. My arms, which I worked on for hours at the gym each week, were sticks against his hard, muscular, body.

Rather than replying verbally, the bastard reached a gloved hand around and poured something obnoxiously sweet into my mouth, immediately shutting it with his other hand. It was barely a tablespoon of liquid and I had choked on and swallowed it before I even knew what the hell had happened. When he felt my throat contract and swallow he took his hand away from my mouth. I immediately began coughing and spitting, taking several deep, frightened breaths in between. I was shaking and struggling in his grasp. He was going to rape me, I was sure of that now.

“You’ll be feeling it soon,” he breathed heavily, kissing my neck. I wanted to throw up I was so terrified. I had no idea what he'd just given me; I really didn’t want to know. I just wanted him to leave me alone so that this would stop, so I could go back to Guy and Norris and Luke and even that scar-faced bastard of a manager, Katze. I waited to get woozy or light-headed, but it didn’t happen. What did happen was far worse. A mortified expression came over my face when I started to feel the tingling sensation of arousal spreading through my body like prickling warm needles. He must have given me some kind of aphrodisiac.

“W-what the fuck did you—ah!

His hand had closed around my swelling cock and, as much as it sickened me, it felt incredible. The glove he was wearing was so soft and warm against my sensitive skin that it caused an involuntary shudder to wrack my body. His excited breathing quickened as I shivered against him which served to both terrify and arouse me.

There it is,” he whispered with amusement. “You’re going to be much more fun to play with now, aren’t you?”

“F-fuck you asshole! Nnn! Ah…

He stroked my cock slowly, wringing gasps and whimpers from my open mouth as he once again started kissing my neck. I’d never had sex with a man before and I had no idea what to expect. Sure, I’d seen gay porn and shit on the internet, but only idiots took porn as a representation of actual sex. Other than what my own imagination had come up with and a few explorative masturbation sessions, I really had no clue what was going to happen, and I didn’t want to know. Not with this perverted fucker. His pace quickened as my own breathing increased.

“No—ahhnn! Please!” I was begging him and all he did was laugh quietly in my ear. His laughter was rich and deep, like honey poured over a double bass. The drug filling my body and clouding my mind with need made me want to writhe against those rich, honey-brown, tones; to feel them around me, covering my skin and bathing me in warmth. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard my own voice screaming at him to stop, but all that managed to reach my mouth were moans and gasps.

He was squeezing me and fondling my nipples under my shirt as he stroked me rhythmically, his glove now damp from my pre-cum. As I climbed closer and closer to my peak I kept wondering with a tense anxiety when he was going to fuck me. I could feel his cock through his pants; it was hard and thick and pressed against my ass, but he hadn’t moved to touch himself at all. He was slowly grinding his hips into me, rocking against me in time with his strokes, but that was all.

Suddenly, I was too close to coming to care.

“Fuck I’m gonna—nnghh!” My own orgasm strangled my words in my throat as I bucked my hips into his hand through wave after wave of pulsating pleasure. I heard him utter a soft moan against the back of my neck and he continued to pump me as I came.

I collapsed forward when I was through, pressing my sweaty forehead against the cool marble tile. My head was spinning and my legs were like jello underneath me; I didn’t know how I was still standing upright to be honest. In my post-climactic stupor I heard the rustling of cloth coming from behind me. I didn’t clue in right away as to what the noise was, but when he backed my hips up, bending me forward against the wall, and I felt my own cooling semen spread down the crack of my ass I sobered right up. This was it. He was going to fucking rape me and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I braced myself for the pain, breathing so fast that I was damn near hyperventilating.

“Shh, I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured softly. It was clear that he was trying to comfort me, but it didn’t really do much to help. I was still shaking; still panting.

“Just be a good boy and stay still, this won’t take much time.”

As he spoke he pressed his thick cock between my ass cheeks. I trembled and shook, terrified by the idea of him pushing inside me and ripping me apart with that huge, monster-sized dick.

But it didn’t happen.

With his hand holding onto the base of his cock he rocked his hips, pressing himself between the two fleshy mounds of my cum-soaked ass. As he slid himself back and forth against me he was, more or less, silent. All I heard was the heaviness of his breath as he panted and shivered and clenched his teeth. I held completely still as he dry fucked me, not wanting to cause any slippage that might put his dick dangerously near my virgin asshole. He was already close enough as it was.

His breathing and thrusting quickened so much that I was sure he was about to cum. In two swift movements he turned me around and pressed on my shoulders, forcing me down onto my knees. I gasped loudly when he grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back. Despite being afraid of him, I had to admit he was a good looking man; beautiful even. His hair was long and blonde and he wore it all neatly pulled back except for the artfully styled fringe brushing down the sides of his face and across his forehead. The style accented his hard jaw, angled brows and high cheekbones which tipped the balance enough to put him in the masculine, rather than feminine category of beauty.

“Open your mouth,” his blond-ship ordered, continuing to stroke himself.

“Fuck you!” I spat angrily. There was no way I was sucking this dickhead’s cock after what he’d just done to me.

“Suit yourself.” Hand pumping furiously, he brought himself to orgasm; shooting his cum all over my face and chin.

Ninety-nine percent of me was disgusted and horrified by what had just happened, but there was a small part of me--a very small part—that was turned on by it. It was probably the drug, or at least that's what I was telling myself.

Breathing hard, he stood there for a moment, his hand still gripping my hair. I hoped, now that he was finished, that he would leave.

Miraculously, my wish was granted.

With a calmness that was almost eerie, he removed his soiled glove and threw it in the trash. He drew a fresh pair of gloves out of his back pocket like some fucking magician and put a clean one on to replace the one he’d thrown away. The other, less-soiled, glove came off next and he replaced it with a new one, same as before. What the hell was wrong with this guy? He knelt beside me and I flinched.

“Keep your mouth shut or next time I won’t be this gentle.”

Next time? Oh hell fucking no. There was no way this was happening again.

I couldn’t muster up the will to do anything but nod pathetically, accepting his threat as I kneaded my jeans with my hands anxiously.

A satisfied look on his face, he stood up and left me there, sitting on the floor of the men’s room with his cum all over my face.

It took me almost ten minutes to process what had just happened enough that I could get up and wash my face at the sink. Regardless of how much I scrubbed with paper towel I could still feel his semen all over my face. My tanned skin was red and raw from the scrubbing and yet I kept doing it. As I scrubbed, tears started to well up in my eyes and before I knew it my body was being wracked by sobs. Water still running in the sink, I collapsed in front of the counter. I pressed my face into my wet hands and my whole body shook as I cried. All the fear and anxiety and confusing emotions I had felt while I was being raped took over and flooded from me. I must have sat there for half an hour, but really when you’re that upset time blurs together into one massive streak of pain and sadness.

By the time I had calmed down enough to clean myself up and return to the studio, I had been gone almost two hours.

Guy and the others jumped up when I came back in.

Norris reached me first. “Jesus, Riki, where the hell did you go?”

Guy put his hand on my shoulder. “We were about to send out a search party for you man. You find some hot piece of ass on the way to the washroom or something?”

His comment made me want to start crying all over again, but crying wasn't an option; not in front of them. I forced a smiled and shook my head. “No I uh…I got hungry so I went out to grab something to eat.”

Luke looked heart broken. “You went out to get food and didn’t bring us anything?” He lamented sadly. “But I’m fucking starving.” Norris comforted him, patting his back and rolling his eyes while Guy looked at me with an expression that told me he didn’t quite buy my story. Not that he would ever say so of course. He was way too polite to ever call me on my bullshit, and besides, whatever he thought I’d really been off doing was a hell of a lot better than what had actually happened so he could think what he wanted.

Guy sighed and rolled his eyes at me, smiling. I wanted to smile back, but just didn’t have it in me to force it right now. I shrugged my shoulders and patted Luke’s back.

“I’ll bring you something next time, I promise.”

Luke hugged me, making Norris laugh which prompted Guy to punch him playfully in the arm. This started all three of them jostling around me; putting each other into head locks and roughing each other up good-naturedly. That is, until Katze came through the door.

“Alright you idiots, calm down. We’ve got our meeting with the label’s CEO, Iason Mink, upstairs in five minutes. Raoul is meeting us at the elevator so get your shit and move.”

Raoul was our producer; a tight ass east-coast blonde with a chip on his shoulder. Still, he was one of the best in the business, and we were glad to have him working with us, even if he was a condescending asshole.

The five of us trudged out of the studio together and made our way upstairs. Raoul was waiting outside the elevator on the fiftieth floor and berated us all the way to the conference room for dressing like street-people. He was always fashionably dressed and polished to a finished shine and today was no different. This had been the fodder for many a gay joke at the man’s expense, perpetrated by Luke and Norris. Not that Guy or I cared really, since the man was a stuck up prick ninety percent of the time and probably deserved any mean thing ever said about him.

While we all waited outside the heavy metal doors to the conference room, I looked around at the stark, modern, décor of the upper-most floor. It was a bit too cold for my tastes, but I could tell from his approving expression that Guy liked it so I guess it wasn’t so bad.

Raoul’s pocket buzzed and he put a finger to the bluetooth piece in his ear. “He’s ready for us.” He pushed open the door and led all of us inside, with me sullenly bringing up the rear. I’d been excited about this meeting for a while now; getting to meet the CEO of a corporation that managed your career was a pretty big deal, but my heart wasn’t in it now. Really, all I wanted to do was go home, take a shower and sleep for the next year.

I stared at the floor absently as I walked over to the polished glass conference table to sit down. The chairs were comfortable, which was a relief. Nothing worse than sitting through a meeting in a hard fucking chair.

“So sorry to keep you all waiting.”

My head shot up when I heard the familiar, deep, voice coming from a side door across the room. My blood ran cold when I locked eyes with the beautiful blonde man it belonged to. His smile was pleasant and amiable, but his ice-blue eyes were dead and cold and burned through mine as he walked up to the head of the table.

He gave me a tiny wink as he sat down and I wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

No. Fucking. Way.

No way was that disgusting pervert the head of Jupiter Records. No way was he in charge of my career. I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it.

“Is something the matter, Riki?” Raoul asked in a clipped, irritated, tone. He was sitting next to the CEO and from the look on his face, he could clearly see something was wrong with me.

I spaced out for a second, not knowing what to say. The CEO—Iason—stared at me with a concerned expression. How fucking dare he, the piece of shit, two faced, perverted bastard.

Guy kicked my foot under the table and I coughed, clearing my throat. Really I was just trying to level out my voice so I didn’t start screaming at him.

“Just not feeling well.” I put my hand on my stomach. “Had a bad burrito for lunch I think.”

Iason steepled his white-gloved fingers, his face concerned. His expression seemed so genuine that I almost couldn’t believe he was the same pervert who had drugged me and taken advantage of me not even an hour ago. How did he do it? How did he pretend so easily and fool everyone around him into thinking he could feel anything at all?

“I expect all of the artists under this label to maintain themselves, but I also understand that everyone has a spot of bad luck now and then.” Only his eyes changed as he spoke, mocking me as he stared me down like a hawk stares down a rabbit.

“If Riki isn’t feeling well then let’s reschedule this for--” He pulled out a slim silver device and made some indistinct noises as he flipped through a few screens”—next Thursday. Same time. Same place. ”

He turned to Katze. “How does that sound to you?”

The red-head nodded. “That works for us.”

“Perfect. Then let’s adjourn for today and we’ll reconvene next week.”

I was so angry I wanted to jump across the table and punch him in his smug fucking face. Raoul rolled his eyes at the rest of us and got up first, opening the door to shoo us out. I glared at Iason as I got up and he stared right back at me, challenging me to try and do something. He knew that I was now aware of how incredibly screwed I was. He’d known all along. My skin crawled when I realized that his threat had not been an idle one after all, that he fully intended on there being a next time. The satisfaction in his eyes told me that he was enjoying every minute of me figuring this out. My heart could be an open book sometimes and apparently I also couldn't keep my emotions off my goddamn face. I made a mental note to be more careful about that around him, because this bastard was sure to try and use anything and everything he could against me to get what he wanted.

“Until next time,” Iason concluded, raising his hand to us cordially. He even smiled.

The rest of the group had no idea that his superficial goodbye had only been intended for me.

Chapter Text

I didn’t see Iason again until our rescheduled meeting the following Thursday; Whether it was because I hadn’t gone back to the executive washrooms on the twentieth floor, or because he was biding his time and avoiding me on purpose, I had no idea. Either way, the meeting was tense and I said as little as possible to avoid putting my foot in my mouth. Everyone seemed oblivious to the discomfort I was feeling sitting next to Tall, Blonde and Rapist, except Guy, who nudged me gently in the side more than once, asking with his eyes if I was alright. I wouldn’t be discussing it with him, but it was nice to know he cared. Near the end of our meeting, Iason’s eyes told me that he was as pleased as a pig in shit to be able to get under my skin so easily. I hoped against hope that my eyes were telling him to go stick a telephone pole up his pompous fucking ass.

When the meeting was finally over, I walked out of the conference room as fast as I was able to without looking like I was bolting. I don’t think I succeeded. I couldn’t help myself, I was just so mad; at Iason, for being the picture of serenity while he fucked me with his eyes and at myself for letting the sick bastard affect me so much. He’d barely said ten words to me and yet I was so riled up I could feel every muscle in my body throbbing and tensing under my skin. I really needed to hit the gym and blow off some steam.

As I was mashing the elevator button to head down to the parking garage, Guy caught up with me. He must have run out of the room ahead of everyone else because, other than us and some artfully placed air plants, the hallway was deserted.

“Riki! Hey! Where are you going in such a hurry?” He asked lightly, putting his hand on my shoulder. It was really warm. “Raoul and Katze looked pretty pissed when you bolted.”

I made a derisive noise in my throat as the elevator doors opened. “Like I give a shit. I’m going to make them millions of dollars, so they can kiss my ass.”

Guy burst out laughing as we walked inside. “Right. So, you actually headed somewhere now or just going home?”

I slammed my thumb onto the button for the level two parking garage and backed up against the rear right corner of the elevator with my arms crossed over my nutchest.

“Home first, then to the Gym. You coming?”

He laced his hands up in the air and stretched; his muscles slid under his tanned skin like snakes under satin sheets and his shirt lifted, exposing his navel. I swallowed awkwardly and looked away.

“Cool,” he yawned. “I’m in. Just gotta grab my gym bag.”

The two of us lived in the same building in an apartment complex in Midas; a satellite commuter city on the outskirts of the much larger metropolis of Tanagura. Technically our building was equipped with a “gym”, but if free weights and a shitty treadmill make a smelly old office a gym, then the telescope on my balcony makes me an astronaut. The actual gym Guy and I went to on a regular basis was just down the street from our building; open twenty four hours a day, with all new equipment and, as an added bonus, it didn’t smell like a moldy Christmas tree.


The Tanagura Freeway, the main artery into and out of the Capital City, was congested with cars heading in the Southern direction toward Midas. Typical for six on a Thursday. Since Guy and I decided to ride home together on my bike and leave his at work, we were able to make use of the carpool lanes and speed past all the idiots stuck in their fiberglass isolation chambers. The rush of the air over my skin as we sped out of the heart of Tanagura toward home was beautifully freeing, and Guy’s warm body pressed to my back, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, was icing on the cake. God was I ever glad he was riding behind me and not the other way around, because I was half hard all the way home.

Just outside our building I stopped and let Guy hop off the bike. “I’ll meet you down here,” He explained as he put the passenger helmet back in the under-seat compartment. I still had to park the bike, so I had my helmet firmly fastened. This made talking difficult, but I waved at him to let him know I’d understood him before taking the bike down into the garage. Ten minutes later my chubby was gone, I was home and breathing a sigh of overwhelming relief.

Ever since I’d had the misfortune of meeting Iason Mink, I hadn’t had a single stress-free day, on the job or off. His face was constantly drifting through my mind; his blue eyes staring at me intensely. A shiver ran down my spine as I ducked into my bedroom to grab my gym bag off the floor. I went to the fridge quickly to grab a bottle of water and paused to take a swig of apple juice out of the carton. Nobody else lived with me so I drank most of my beverages straight out of the fridge. It was a disgusting habit, sure, but that’s what growing up without a mother did to poor, impressionable, young boys. It made them into serial carton drinkers. Oh the shame. I laughed quietly to myself as I slammed the door of the fridge and headed to meet Guy in the lobby.


“Man, look at the tits on that one,” Guy whispered to me as he started his third set of bicep curls. It was an upper body day so I was flat on my back doing bench flys and couldn’t see who he was talking about. I was almost finished my set so I did my last three reps before I sat up.

“Aww, you missed her,” Guy lamented in a mocking tone, looking in the direction I assume the girl must have gone. To be honest I wasn’t that upset about it. Boobs were nice to look at, sure—I wasn’t completely gay, or, at least, I didn’t think I was—but after what Iason had done to me, creeping on girls at the gym, or anywhere for that matter, seemed wrong to me. I knew what it felt like to be victimized and taken advantage of now and I understood a bit better their desire to be left alone. Regardless, I put on a show of disappointment for Guy’s sake. “Shit! How big?”

He put down his dumbbell and held his hands out a fair distance from his chest. C cups I was guessing.

“Like this,” he declared, a goofy perverted smile on his face. He was moving his hands up and down, obviously trying to simulate jiggling breasts and rub the fact that I’d missed them in my face. I slapped his hands out of the air and he started roaring with laughter.

“Ah fuck you and your tits!” I growled playfully, punching him hard in the shoulder before I leaned back on the bench to start another set. He yelped guiltily when I punched him, like he knew he deserved it, but he sounded happy at the same time which made me smile. I could feel the grin across my whole face, right up to the corners of my eyes, and it felt good to be this genuinely happy; it felt good to laugh with him like this about stupid shit. It felt normal. Things hadn’t felt normal between him and me in a long time and after last week when he’d told me he could feel something was wrong, I’d been making more of an effort to make it up to him. I knew he was confused by the distance and even if he thought it was the stress from work I’m sure it was bothering him. It made me feel like a piece of shit either way because the poor guy hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d been avoiding him because of my own selfish bullshit; because I was afraid of my feelings for him.


I wasn’t afraid of how I felt, I was afraid of how he would react when he found out. Ever since I could remember he’d been the one stable thing in my life. Our dad’s had been drinking buddies long before we were born and we practically grew up together as a result. I couldn’t lose him over something like this. I wouldn’t make it without him.

His laughter quieted and he turned that brilliant smile onto me. “Feels good to hang out; you know, just us.”

I stopped mid rep and smiled as I nodded at him. “It really does. Look, Guy, I’m sorry for—”

“No,” he interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize, Riki. Work has been killing all of us lately and I completely understand; you need to focus on taking care of yourself right now.”

His complete trust and acceptance of my stupid lie broke my heart. This wasn’t right. I had to tell him. He deserved to know. How fair was it to punish him now for something he might do in the future? Internally, I was screaming. How could I tell him? What would I tell him? I put my weights down on the floor.

“I’m really not feeling this anymore,” I sighed, putting my weights back on the rack and wiping them down. “You want to grab some beer and head home? Order some pizza?”

Guy set his dumbbell down on the floor with a dull ‘thud’. The simple auditory confirmation of just how much he could lift with only one arm was a massive turn on, but I kept it to myself. He gave me a warm smile, so warm I could almost feel the heat coming off of it, and clapped me on the back. “Lead the way.”


The walk home was a leisurely one, with lots of idle banter and jokes. A stop at the convenience store between the gym and our building made us both ten dollars poorer and six beers richer. We walked through the door of my apartment five minutes later and kicked off our shoes; gym bags dropping near the coat closet.

“I’m starved,” Guy announced loudly as he collapsed down onto my sofa and cracked open a beer. He downed half of it in one long gulp. He must have been thirsty.

“Same,” I replied, plunking down next to him while pulling out my phone. He opened another beer and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said, setting it on the coffee table after taking a drink. It was shit beer, but it was cold and full of alcohol so it was more than satisfactory in my eyes. I could stand to have my senses dulled for a few hours and what the dullness tasted like going down didn’t matter to me.

Guy nodded at me and stretched out with a sigh of contentment, wriggling his toes as he got comfortable. “The food Katze ordered for us at lunch wasn’t very filling,” he remarked. “I was hungry again before our meeting with the brass this afternoon.”

I tensed up immediately. I didn’t want to think about the meeting, or, more specifically, Iason’s cold, dead eyes staring at me. Guy noticed the change immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied, rubbing my arms. “Just got a chill.”

This seemed to satisfy him and he set his beer down on the coffee table. He flashed me that adorable puppy smile before hauling himself up off the couch with a tired grunt. I looked at him curiously as he walked out of the living room and down the hall.

“Where are you going?” I called, hopeful that he would reply.

He didn’t.

I thought maybe he had gone to the bathroom, but soon enough he returned from where I now know was my bedroom, carrying the oversized grey comforter off my bed. I only had a queen bed, but I bought all my blankets king-sized. This was partly because I liked to cocoon myself in them like a giant caterpillar, but also because a king-sized blanket draped to the floor on all three sides of my bed; a necessary aesthetic feature which hid all the stuff I was forced to store under it due to the lack of space elsewhere in my tiny apartment. With this new record deal, I was hoping that one day soon that would change; I’d be saying goodbye to this place and hello to a spacious top floor condo somewhere in Tanagura.

Guy grinned at me again as he draped the comforter over my back. It was cold and heavy, but I knew it would warm up from my body heat in no time. Why was he so attentive? I didn’t deserve him as a friend.

“Thanks mom,” I teased, pulling the blanket around my shoulder.

He rubbed my head, laughing as he got under the blanket with me. If I didn’t know him, I’d say he was flirting with me on purpose; I knew for a fact though, that he was blissfully ignorant to the affect he had on me. He was blissfully ignorant about a lot of things actually: how good looking he was, how great his hair smelled, how much of a bed hog he was when he was passed out drunk…

“No problem,” he shrugged casually. “You’re right though, it is pretty chilly in here.”

“I know right? I've called the landlord about the heat three times already this month. He keeps telling me they’ve already fixed it, but I don’t think they have or else it wouldn’t be this fucking cold in here all the time.”

Guy listened with his head cocked to one side and then shrugged. “My place is alright so maybe it’s your pipes?”

I pulled out my phone again as Guy spoke, bringing up the online ordering site for Blondie’s, our favorite pizza place.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair in frustration, “but I’m tired of dealing with that crotchety old geezer! If our first single sells well, hopefully we’ll get a bigger advance on the album than Katze negotiated for us and we’ll finally be able to move out of this shithole.”

Guy was oddly silent after that. I wondered what was on his mind as I added our usual order to the online shopping cart: one large pepperoni, olive and bacon, and an order of hot wings. Extra ranch sauce because Guy was a double dipper, the uncivilized brute.

I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and took a drink of my beer. “Order’s in,” I announced quietly, breaking the strange silence that had fallen over us. I looked over at him, perplexed when he didn’t say anything. He took a long drink of his beer in silent contemplation.

Against my better judgement, I put a hand on his shoulder under the blanket. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

He swirled his beer can absentmindedly. “Lots of big changes have been happening to all of us lately. That’s all.”

Ahh...I knew now what was wrong. I gave him an understanding look. “You’re afraid of what’s going to happen when we get famous, aren’t you?” I asked. I said when, rather than if, because I didn’t know a single band signed under JR that wasn’t fairly well known and I assumed we would be no different.

Guy looked shocked at this accusation, but there was a heavy shadow of guilt in his features, which meant I had hit the nail straight on the head.

“I’m not afraid,” he replied quietly. “Just, nervous. I mean, we’re really doing this aren’t we? There’s going to be hordes of people swarming around us all the time soon; press, girls, I just…I don’t know man, that’s got to change you as a person somehow, right?”

A comforting smile took over my face as I patted his back.

“Nothing’s going to change, Guy. I won’t let things change. I promise ten years from now, we’ll still be sitting under blankets eating pizza and drinking beer, just…better pizza and better beer.”

This brought a smile and a quiet chuckle out of him, which I classified as a victory. He was so beautiful when he smiled that I’d do anything to keep one on his face, even if it meant lying to him. Things were bound to change once we started bringing in money and gaining popularity, there was no way to avoid it. I knew he was nervous and I told him what I knew would keep him happy, at least for tonight, but the reality was that money tended to change people. I was just as worried about that as he was on some level, but I had bigger problems to worry about unfortunately. Problems that affected my more immediate future; like how I was going to tell Guy about my feelings for him, or what the hell I was going to do when Iason finally came to find me again. When compared to the stress I was already under, increasing the size of my bank account and moving to a nice new apartment with heat that actually worked didn’t seem like much to be worried about.


The night wore on and things between Guy and I started to feel like they used to. Our pizza and wings disappeared almost as soon as I got them through the door and we burnt through our beers pretty quick too. Guy wanted to keep drinking so I broke out my bottle of Crown and a couple of whiskey glasses. 

Now, we were sitting under the blanket on the floor in front of the TV playing video games; Guy was attempting to try and burp the entire alphabet for a second time and I was laughing my ass off while using his distraction to get his character in a head lock in the game. It might have been because I was drunk and feeling nostalgic, but everything about that moment brought me back to when we were kids; spending the night at each other’s houses and doing the same things we were doing now—minus the hard liquor.

It didn’t take Guy long to notice that I was fucking him up big time in the game and he stopped his marathon of disgusting sounds to focus back on it.

“Hey fuck you, you fucking cheater!” he cried through his laughter, shoving me in the shoulder and then trying to make a comeback in the game. He failed miserably.

“All’s fair in love and war my friend!” I teased, ducking under my arm and trying to defend myself from him in real life while maintaining my death grip on him in game. It was hard to do without putting down my PS3 controller, but I was managing. My defensive maneuvers seemed to infuriate him even more and it didn’t take long before he tossed the controller and tackled me from the side.

I screamed and laughed as we tangled up our limbs on the carpet. “Asshole! Get the hell off me, I’m winning and there’s nothing you can do!” I laughed, still trying to kick his ass in the game with one handed button mashing. He was grunting and growling in playful, drunken, rage as he beat on my shoulders and chest with his fists, trying to get me to drop the controller.

I was pressed flat out on my side with him and the mess of blankets on top of me and it was hard to breathe, but sacrifices had to be made in order to win wars didn’t they? I was button mashing with one hand and struggling to keep him from grabbing my controller with the other. It was more difficult than one would expect because he had stupid long gorilla arms. He was red in the face from laughing, exertion and whiskey, which was adorable and made it really hard for me to take his nerd-rage seriously.

A loud, resounding “K.O.!” blared from the TV and I realized that I’d beaten him one handed.

“I beat you with one fucking hand!” I declared, laughing triumphantly, punching him in the arm.

I started laughing even harder when he snarled at me and punched my shoulder with enough force to make me drop my controller. I didn’t pick it back up, since the digital fight was over; now, it was time to focus on defeating him in the real world. We struggled together and rolled side to side as we grappled, trying to pin one another’s shoulders to the floor and claim victory. We’d done it a thousand times, in gym class during high school and at home, and he usually won. He was a lot stronger than me, at least when it came to upper body strength and once he got my shoulders pinned it was usually over for me. I tried to avoid that pitfall this time, but it was hopeless. He finally succeeded in pinning me to the floor with his arms and chest and he roared victoriously.

“Got you, you little shit!” he cried, panting his exhaustion. Both of us were out of breath; from the struggle and from laughing so hard. It was then that I realized how close our bodies actually were. Normally I’d have looked away or tried to get him off me, but with the amount of booze in my system, this time, I didn’t. I stared up at him intensely as I panted and tried to catch my breath. He didn’t look away, which surprised me and instantly made me blush.

“Get off of me you idiot,” I muttered half-heartedly, finally coming to my senses and looking away from his eyes.


By the time I turned my head back to look at him in confusion his mouth was pressing down forcefully against mine.

I gasped in surprise, but beyond that I didn’t have time to do much else before he pulled away, letting go of my shoulders with a mortified expression plastered across his beet-red face.

“Fuck…Riki, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

My mouth rushed up to silence his, my body working entirely on its own as I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders. He struggled to break away, but it was only a pretence; I could feel him pressing half-erect against my abdomen.

His mouth tasted like it was raining whiskey in heaven as I prodded my tongue into its wet embrace. He made a noise low in his throat and half-heartedly jerked away, before moaning into the kiss and letting his tongue explore my mouth as well. I had no idea that kissing him would be this intense. I’d kissed a lot of girls, fucked a lot of them too, but it had never felt like this. The fire inside me that burned only for him had been set free and its flames were licking me all over, consuming my flesh and filling me with unimaginable heat.

He broke away long enough to whisper my name passionately against my lips before he was pressing me down against the carpet, devouring my mouth as he lifted my shirt. I didn’t know where this passion was coming from, but I was so drunk and in love with him that I didn’t care. I wanted this more than I’d wanted anything in my life.

Guy,” I groaned desperately as he tossed my shirt away from us. He pulled away and looked at me with a hunger in his eyes that I had never seen before. Suddenly I felt very small and vulnerable. With women I was always the one in control, the one guiding our bodies, but not now. He was in control and I could do nothing but let him dominate me. I shivered, but not from the cold.

He kissed me again; more lovingly this time, with barely any tongue. My mind was reeling in fuzzy undulating circles. He swallowed hard as he glanced down at my bare chest with a look of intense contemplation.

I could tell he was as nervous as I was and I reached up to caress his jaw.

“It’s okay if you don’t—“

“No,” he interrupted firmly.

He closed his eyes momentarily, ghosting his fingers over my chest with such cautious desire it was dizzying. He opened them again when his thumb brushed against my left nipple and wrung a soft gasp from my lips.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “I want to.”

More unconscious noises of pleasure escaped me as his touch grew more confident; he was using both hands now to gently explore the flat, hard, muscular expanse of my chest. I’m sure it was weird for him, touching a chest so similar to his own. His hands traveled lower, across my navel and down over my groin. I rolled my hips up and into his hands as he caressed me through my jeans. A moan slipped from him as his large fingers fumbled with the button of my jeans. Once it was undone and he was onto the zipper he paused and looked at me, as though he were seeking permission. I bit the back of my finger and nodded my head, exhaling tensely. The zipper went down and his hand dipped into my open fly to fondle me through my underwear. Whatever nerves he’d been suffering from were quickly vanishing as the looming promise of orgasm circled closer and closer. His hands moved quickly to his own shirt, ripping it off over his head and tossing it next to mine.

I’d seen his chest many times before over the course of our life, but none of those previous times had really prepared me for this moment. He was breathtakingly beautiful to look at, like some Greek statue.

“Kiss me,” I demanded, my voice dripping with lust. He didn’t need to be told twice. He lay down on top of me, one arm stretched out above my head, the other holding my waist.

The chest pressed firmly against mine was so similar to my own that it should have felt wrong, but it was the exact opposite. With no fleshy breasts to get in the way I could feel each and every breath he drew; could feel his heart beating on the opposite side of my chest so that it felt like I had two hearts beating in unison. He lowered his mouth to me and gently slipped his tongue deep into my mouth. Like waves ebbing and flowing, he moved it against mine, back and forth as he kissed me.

I felt his cock twitch against mine and I moaned into his mouth.

He chuckled and ground his hips into me, thrusting himself against me in slow, undulating movements. Two layers of fabric were in the way so I wasn’t able to feel him directly, but it felt amazing nonetheless.

I reached my hands down and slipped myself out of my boxer briefs, then undid his jeans; reaching boldly inside soon after to pull his cock out of his underwear. My eyes widened. He was a lot bigger than I’d anticipated. I started to get a bit nervous. I’d never had a dick in my ass before and I was fairly certain it wasn’t a skill you just casually picked up on the fly.

Fuck,” he gasped desperately, drawing the word out for emphasis.

I smiled deviously, feeling more in control now than I had all night. I rolled my hips up and pressed myself against him, holding us together in my hand and stroking lightly. His cock was incredibly hot against mine and I moaned at the heated friction. Guy made a whimpering sound and rose up on his arms, arching his back and bucking his hips forward. He was so hard and turned on that the head of his cock was already shiny and wet with precum.

I took hold of his pony tail and pulled his mouth down to meet mine, just like I had done so many times over in my fantasies. He cried out into my mouth and started to grind his hips against mine. I needed to break the news to him that, at least for tonight, my ass was just for show and prayed he wasn't going to get pissed. In my heart I knew he wouldn't, but there was still an undercurrent of dread.

“We can’t fuck tonight,” I muttered breathily against his mouth, putting my feet flat on the floor and bending my knees on either side of his hips; just holding him steady.

“What?! But I--But you're--!”

I laughed at the disappointment in his voice and kissed him again, smiling. He looked like I’d just shot his puppy. What an adorable idiot.

“Take it easy big guy. I didn’t say we can’t cum together,” I stroked our cocks firmly for emphasis, “but unless you’ve been playing with your ass a bunch on your own and feel comfortable taking a dick in it tonight, I’m saying we can’t fuck. Not yet.”

I tried not to look bashful, but I’m sure the dusting of red on my cheeks gave me away.

I could see the cogs turning in his brain. “But what if I stuck my fingers in there for a while. That works with girls.”

I glared up at him with a look of annoyed disbelief and then poked his forehead hard. “Pussies and assholes don’t work the same, idiot! That’s not a place you want to be sticking your dick haphazardly with no prior planning. Also, if I’m going to lose my backdoor virginity it sure as hell ain’t happening on my living room floor two feet from the weird green stain the last tenants here left!”

I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed.

Guy rubbed his forehead gingerly where I’d poked it. He looked at me apologetically and ran his hand through my hair.

“Sorry,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I’m just horny.” He kissed my cheek. “Ignore me, please?” Another kiss to the side of my neck. A delicious shudder skipped down my spine and I whimpered quietly. My neck has one of those hidden sex buttons that makes your legs turn to jelly.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and smiled wryly. “Show me how sorry you are,” I ordered seductively.

He returned my command with a lascivious grin and started to kiss lower and lower on my neck and chest until he was sucking on my left nipple.

Another one of those damn leg-jelly buttons and fuck it felt good. That son of a bitch was using some kind of raydar to find them, he had to be.

I bit the side of my hand to keep from being too loud; the walls were paper thin and my neighbors were assholes. Guy reached up and took the hand out of my mouth, threading his fingers through it and holding it tight.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice, Riki. Beautiful enough to be signed to a multi-million dollar recording contract. I want to hear every sound that comes out of your mouth tonight.”

His demanding gaze and commanding tone of voice filled me with a previously unfelt desire to please. From the bottom of my being I wanted to do whatever he said. I nodded and cried out louder than before as he dragged his mouth down my body to my cock.

Despite having never sucked a dick before, or at least that I knew about, he swallowed me nearly to the hilt. “Jesus fuck, Guy!” I cried in surprise, bucking my hips and writhing as the hot wet heat of his mouth enveloped me. If this was how he apologized for making me mad, then he wasn’t pissing me off nearly enough.

“Ahh--!” I curled my body inward as he sucked me deep. I put my hands on his head and curled my fingers into his hair. “Nnnghh! G-guy…stop!”

If he didn’t stop soon I was going to cum and I didn’t want that. Not alone.

He started to raise his mouth off me, sucking all the way up harder and harder until the tip came out with a soft slurping, popping sound and I groaned.

He lazily stroked his own cock as he licked and kissed mine. “I could really get used to sucking you off if you’re going to make noises like that.”

I was panting heavily, incredibly aroused. The sound of him talking with his lips against my dick made my groin twitch and my balls lift. I needed to cum.

“Come back up,” I demanded. “Let’s do this.”

Guy crawled back up my body and pressed us together. He was up on one arm and using his other to wrap his hand around both of us. My hand went down to join his around our cocks and together we made a nice cozy dick nest for them. And it felt amazing.

I used my free hand to wrap around his back as he started thrusting his hips. His slick cock rubbed against mine inside our tightly closed hands and I almost came then and there.

He kissed me aggressively, biting at my lips and sucking hard on my jaw and neck as he stroked us with his hip movements.

He was grunting and moaning with each thrust of his hips into our hands; against my cock. “If I’d known you would have been into it, Riki, I would have asked you to do this years ago.”

My eyes flew open. He’d liked me for years? And I’d been stressing out over my feelings for him for only a few months? The poor bastard. No wonder he was so good to me. He’d cared about me all along and I was the one too stupid to see it. My mind flew to all of those times I had thought he was being a loveable sweetheart, those times that he couldn’t possibly be flirting with me because he was too ignorant to know he was doing it. I guess he’d been doing it on purpose all along, the sly bastard.

“Oh Guy,” I moaned arduously, kissing him fervently and bucking my own hips into our slippery handmade fuck toy. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”

He buried his face in my sweaty neck as he hunched over to increase the speed of his thrusts. “Oh me too, Riki. Me too, I’m almost—AAHH!”

I came the second I felt his cum pumping out of his dick in rhythmic, wet, pulses. A sex cry tore out of me so loud I knew my neighbors would be able to hear it.  I didn’t care.  

In between kisses, both of us were panting, trying to catch our breath. Guy collapsed on top of me and I could feel our semen squishing and sliding between our stomachs. I half expected it to gross me out, but it didn’t. I actually enjoyed it, or at least I did until it went into my belly button and sent a really odd wriggling sensation down into my groin. That was a little gross.

I wrapped my arms around Guy and held him close against my chest as I let my legs fall to the sides on the carpet. He put his arms up behind my shoulders and hooked his hands on them, holding me from underneath. We both sighed in exhausted contentment.

Neither of us said anything for what felt like an eternity; we just laid together, holding onto one another for dear life. I was so afraid of losing him that I hadn’t stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin; what I would do once I finally had him.

I stroked his hair and stared at the ceiling.

Of the two of us, he was the first to break the tremulous silence.

“What now?” he asked. His voice was hushed and perplexed and I knew he wasn’t asking me whether or not we were going to play another round of Soul Calibur.

A million things were racing through my mind, but none of them would hold still long enough for me to think about. I held him closer.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Against my chest, I felt his mouth curl into a smile. It matched mine perfectly.

Chapter Text

I’ve always hated sitting at sticky tables. The kind that you can tell haven’t been wiped down in a really, really long time, that have weird, creamy-brown coffee rings all over them. Unfortunately for me, that was the state of the table in the only free booth in the cafeteria. There weren’t that many booths to begin with—the large room being dominated by free-standing metal chairs and tables—and with it being so close to lunch, I was lucky to snag one. I’ve never been much of a bar-seating kind of person and since I’d come down to grab tea and work on lyrics, I really needed the privacy of a booth. Guy, Luke and Norris were upstairs with Raoul and Katze doing some instrument work in the sound studio and I wasn’t really needed. Raoul flat out told me to leave; he wanted to have control of the room and with me there, well, it was safe to say he wouldn’t.

As I sat down at the table a huge yawn took over my body. It quickly transitioned into a big over-the-head arm stretch that bowed my back and curved my toes. My spine cracked and I sighed as the tingling relief of tension spread through my shoulders, back, arms and legs. Guy and I had been spending even more time together than usual and he’d had me up until the wee small hours of the morning the night before, the horny bastard.

Honestly, I don’t think he’d spent more than fifteen minutes in his own apartment since the first night we had sex. He slept with his arms wrapped around me every night and, while I never had myself pegged as someone who’d actually enjoy having a live-in partner, I had to admit it was actually kind of nice. In the past, whenever girls tried to get as close to me as Guy was, I always ended things with them. I broke up with my last girlfriend when I realized she’d started to bring clothes over to hang in my closet. I called it a fear of commitment at the time, but who knows? Maybe I really am just gay and my body knew it before my brain figured it out? The jury is still out on that one unfortunately, because a set of perky tits can still make me pop a boner. Figure that one out.

I took a sip of my tea—a herbal blend of spearmint and lemongrass—and opened my notebook. I tapped the pen on the page of one of the newer songs I was working on and let my mind wander. Unfortunately it kept wandering back to Guy. I really can’t believe how long he’s been harbouring feelings for me; feelings he never once acted on before last Thursday. I tried to think back on all the time we’d spent together and everything we’d gone through over the past half a decade, but there were too many hours to wade through. They all washed over my minds eyes in a muted haze of color and emotion and as I focused on the stream of them going by I had to wonder what I would have done if he’d told me how he felt three years ago. Would I have said yes to him then? I honestly didn’t know.

Off to my left I heard a girl laugh and I looked over. She was pretty and blonde and had her arms wrapped around the shoulders of a tall, dark-haired man. When she stood on tip toe to kiss him I looked away, back to my notebook. The lines on the page seemed to blur as I focused and defocused my eyes on them. I wondered if Guy and I would ever be comfortable enough in our relationship to share it so openly with the world, like Blondie and Mr.Tall on the other side of the cafeteria. At home on our own time the two of us were comfortable together, but as far as work was concerned, we’d both decided that it would be best to keep our relationship simple and low key, at least for a while. We still weren’t sure how people were going to react when they found out, particularly Luke and Norris. It wasn’t that they were homophobic or anything, it was more to do with timing; Katze had planned a media tour of Tanagura to follow up the release of our first single and Guy and I both decided that we didn’t want to risk messing up the cohesion of the group until after it was over. Once things died down for us a little bit we would tell them, but not until then.

I let myself stay lost in thought until I felt someone’s eyes on me through the haze. I looked up and saw a man approaching my booth. He was fairly short, decidedly young, brown haired and dressed professionally in grey slim-fit chinos, black derby’s and a white dress shirt layered under a grey-plaid sweater vest. He had a black tie, knotted four-in-hand, resting snuggly against his throat under the vest and a pair of thick rimmed rectangular glasses holding the whole ensemble together. He looked like a gayer version of an associate college professor.

He had a tablet encased in what looked like real leather clutched to his chest and a finger pressed to an ultra-slim Bluetooth headset. He noticed me looking at him and took his finger away from the headset a few moments later.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black,” he greeted cheerfully as he reached my booth. “My name is Daryl.” He extended his hand out to me and I noticed the steel Ralph Lauren watch glistening on his wrist. How the fuck could a kid who looked fresh out of diapers afford something like that? I was starting to get a really weird vibe from this guy and I didn’t like it.

“Can I do something for you?” I asked, making sure my loathing of his cheerful presence came through in my voice. Daryl put his hand down when he realized I wasn’t going to take it, but his enthusiasm didn’t seem tarnished at all. How sad.

 “I was sent by my boss to collect you, actually. Do you have time for a meeting?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned sideways in the booth to face him head on. “I might. Who’s your boss?”

“Iason Mink.”

A chill ran down my spine as I heard the name of the Devil glide across Daryl’s pale-peach colored lips.

I turned back to my notebook. “Not interested.”

Daryl’s face fell heavily. “Please, won’t you reconsider?”

The desperation in his voice made me wonder what would happen to him if he returned without me. I almost cared.

“Sorry, but I’m busy.” I tapped my notebook with my pen and gestured to the tea.

The mousey-haired youth stood his ground. “Please, Mr. Black, it will only take a few minutes of your—“

“I said no kid. What part of no don’t you understand? Now piss off and let me work!”

He frowned and looked incredibly disheartened. It appeared my uncongenial nature had finally broken through the persistent beam of sunshine within which he seemed to live his life. He bowed quietly and stepped away from the booth, walking over to the large ornamental fountain in the center of the room. It was surrounded by dwarf palms and ferns and had a skylight directly over top of it. His finger touched his ear-piece briefly and it looked like he was speaking to someone. He seemed afraid of whoever was on the other end and I had a pretty good idea who it was. I shook my head and took a long drink of my now fairly luke-warm tea. His choice of boss was not my problem.

It didn’t take him more than five minutes to finish his conversation and return to my table.

I sighed in annoyance. “Can’t you take a hint, short stuff? I told you I’m busy.”

He looked at me nervously, but seemed to find his courage once he’d cleared his throat. He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked me right in the eyes.

“I’ve been asked to inform you that you’ve already agreed to attend all meetings pertaining to your contract with JR. As such, you are contractually obligated at this time to follow me upstairs. Further refusal will be seen as a breach of contract and will be dealt with in a very unpleasant manner.”

I didn’t know what to say. I’d just been threatened by a pre-schooler wearing a fourteen thousand dollar watch. Part of me was actually impressed by the amount of balls the kid seemed to be hiding in his no doubt very colorful briefs, but the angrier part wanted to punch the little shit in the face. I didn’t, but only because I knew he was speaking on Iason’s behalf. He was the one I really wanted to punch.

I removed Daryl’s hand from my shoulder with a rough jerk and looked him square in the eyes as I grabbed the front of his stupid sweater vest.

“Fine, you little shit. I’ll talk to your boss, but you touch me ever again and you’re going to get a fist in the face, you got that?”

People in the cafeteria closer to us stopped eating to look at Daryl and I with nervous glances. He nodded quickly, looking absolutely terrified and I let go of him. He immediately started to smooth out and straighten his clothes and I snorted in distaste at his idiotic preening, pushing him out of my way as I stood up.

“Alright kid,” I barked. “Take me up.”


The journey from the ground floor cafeteria to the fiftieth floor took about fifteen minutes. Daryl didn’t say a word to me the entire time. He didn’t even look at me. I suppose it was a blessing in disguise, because what would someone like me have to say to someone like him anyway? Other than the fact that he was most definitely gay and I was dating a man, we had nothing in common.

He spoke to, and then ushered me past, a very classy-looking secretary with a set of tits so big my head swiveled around to keep looking at them as we walked away. A guy’s allowed to look at melons in the grocery store just so long as he purchases his sausage at home, right?

Daryl made a noise of disgust when I nearly ran into a potted tree.

Free of the harpy's distracting chest I wheeled on the brat. “You got something to say, short stuff?”

“Nothing at all,” he replied, his voice holding a goading bite. I didn’t respond to his provocation because it was at that moment I noticed that there were no other doors down this wing; just one really fucking big one at the end of the hall. We weren’t on the edge of the building, and there were no windows, so obviously there had to be something on the other side of the walls, but there were no doors leading in anywhere. Was Iason’s office really that big? If it wasn’t, what the hell did he have hidden inside the walls? I shivered, realizing I hoped I never found out.

Daryl pointed at some comfortable looking chairs in the seating area just in front of the office door and then stepped inside. The door must have been balanced on a hair-pin, or made out of something super light, for a kid Daryl’s size to be able to move it so easily. It closed as silently as it had opened.

I looked around as I sat down in one of the chairs; the décor was as cold and uninviting here as it was in front of the conference room we’d been in last week, but at least the comfortable chair trend had continued.

Mentally, I tried to prepare myself for what was to come, though I had no idea what Iason wanted which made it kind of hard. Maybe he really did want to talk about something business related; it was a long stretch given our track record together, but this was a record label. I’m sure stranger things had happened.

As I sat lost in thought the door opened again. My heart jumped into my throat as I looked up, half expecting to see Iason standing there. It wasn’t him. And it wasn’t Daryl.

I tilted my head curiously as I looked at the brown-haired stranger coming out of the office. He was dressed in a manner that would not have been out of place in a flashy gay nightclub on rave night. His pants were a deep, rich, purple and rode low on his hips. They were also stuck to his body like glue. His jacket—if you could even call it that—was made of a shiny white mesh and his hips were crisscrossed with black and white belts. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a lot of dangling necklaces of varying lengths. His wrists were covered in bangles, and straps and beads that matched his necklaces, in style if not material. You’d think such clothing would be out of place in an upscale business setting, but this was a record label and the talent wasn’t required to dress to conventional tastes. I had never seen him before, but I was guessing he was also under contract. Either that or he was a hooker, but I doubted even a psycho like Iason Mink would send for a call boy in the middle of the day.

Clearly this kid was used to being looked at, because he noticed me staring at him right away. He turned his head toward me and looked me up and down with a slow blink of his odd colored eyes—one brown, one blue. I couldn’t tell if they were natural or contacts. He laughed quietly, as though he knew something I didn’t, and then wiped the corner of his mouth suggestively before walking away.

Was Iason fucking him too? Whoever he was, he seemed to be implying as much.

I stared after him as he walked away; he was swaying his hips back and forth as though he were strutting down a catwalk in a strip club.

“Iason will see you now, Mr. Black.”

I almost jumped out of my skin when Daryl addressed me from the doorway. It wasn’t that I was attracted to the weirdo club kid strutting his way down the hall, he just had an ass that didn’t look like it would ever quit and weirdo or not, my eyes couldn’t seem to look away. I was quickly finding out that I was as much an ass man when it came to men as I was a boob man when it came to women. I stared at Guy’s ass all the time too because hot damn could he fill out a pair of jeans.

Mr. Black?”

I tore my eyes away and turned towards the door. Daryl was standing just inside of it, looking annoyed.

“Right, right.” I stood up and he turned his body to the side, making space for me to pass by him into the office. I swallowed hard and walked inside.

Iason was sitting at his desk writing something down. He looked up at me briefly and motioned for me to sit down in a chair in front of his desk. As I moved further into the very large, very open concept office space I looked back over my shoulder to see if Daryl was following me in. I hoped to God he was, but he was just leaving as my eyes found him. Shit. Well, I was on my own in the lion’s den.

I approached the desk cautiously and sat down, never taking my eyes of Iason for fear he might try to do something. I didn’t know what, but I wanted to be prepared.

He continued working as I sat there, looking around the room. The décor was different than that of the hallway. It was still cold and modern, but it was darker, sleeker, and had a much more ominous feeling to it. Rather than silver and white, the walls were a deep red hue, lit from within by stripes of white light glowing softly down the walls in parallel horizontal lines. The chairs and tables were sleek black metal, topped, and surrounded by glass that had been artfully teased while still molten and pliable into waves and swirls that made it appear more artistic and fragile than functional. The one thing that really tied the room together was the overabundance of live plants; adding a riot of color and greenery to the otherwise simplified and unfeeling room the plants awakened the space and made it feel much more like someone’s place of work rather than a cold, impersonal art gallery.

I looked back at Iason, who continued to ignore me as I sat there, tapping my fingers against the arms of the black sling-back chair nervously. I was starting to get impatient.

After five minutes of being ignored I could take no more.

“Why the fuck did you have your poodle bring me here if you’re just going to ignore me?”

I didn’t care that he was the CEO. He was a shit head rapist who only cared about himself, nothing more.

He didn’t look up from his paper work.

“I’m a very busy man. You will sit and you will wait.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing under my breath.

“Like hell I’m sitting around waiting for a piece of shit like you.” I stood up and put my hands on his desk. Leaning over it, so that my face was almost next to his I whispered, “You might treat your other little fuck toys like this, but I’m nobodies bitch, understand?” I sneered at him and started to walk away. “I’m outta here.”

I didn’t even get past the chair I’d been sitting in before I heard him stand up.

In a voice that was so deep and so confident that it sent shivers down my spine, he uttered two menacing words. “Sit. Down.”

I stopped in my tracks, swallowing hard. He didn’t sound happy and his tone made it perfectly clear that he would not tolerate anything but absolute obedience. I shivered again and instantly hated myself for it. That same self-assurance and control had come through in Guy’s voice as he pressed me into the carpet our first night together; my body had reacted the same way then as it had just now.

I said nothing, but I obeyed his command. I sat down slowly in the chair and glared at him with burning hatred in my eyes.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I demanded, my voice low, but wavering slightly as I struggled to control my emotions.

“I want you to strip.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed quietly and looked at me again; I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. I didn't know which one would be better for me in the long run and it made me incredibly anxious.

“I said, I want you to strip.”

I sat there staring at him, my mouth partially hanging open. I knew that’s what he’d said originally, but I refused to believe it. How could he demand such a thing of me when he barely knew me? Not to mention we were in his company office for Godsake, weren’t there cameras?

“No way!”

He smiled at me eerily and reached into one of his desk drawers.  He drew out a long thin object that looked like a crop and walked around to my side of the desk. Now that I could see it better, I could see that it really was a riding crop. I’d been hoping my mind was just playing tricks on me.

He leaned nonchalantly against the desk and held the crop out with one hand, pressing the stiff leather loop at the end under my chin to raise my head.

“You’re going to be a challenge to bring to heel, aren’t you?”

“I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” I didn’t move my head for fear of what he would do with the crop.

He laughed quietly again, seeming to be thoroughly amused by my responses this time.

“Let me make this perfectly clear to you, Riki. I own you. I own your career, I own your friends, and I own everything around you.”

“You don’t fucking own me!”

He pushed off the table lazily and came to squat down in front of me, crop resting horizontally across his thighs. Even down low to the ground he was the same height as me, not shorter. What had this guy’s mother fed him as a child?

“Oh but I do own you, Riki. As long as you’re signed under this label you’re mine.” He got up and leaned over me, his hands on each armrest. I could feel the tendrils of his fringe brushing against the side of my face. “You’ll accept that fact or I’ll drop your band and make sure none of you ever work in the music industry again.”

I was terrified of this man, of what he was saying. My heart was pounding in my chest like a herd of galloping horses. My hands shook in my lap.

He turned his head and moved even closer, his mouth a fraction of an inch away from my ear.  

“Now strip.”


I continued to sit there, feeling numb and not wanting to move. I felt the crop against my chin again and it woke me up out of my stupor.

He moved to sit back in his desk chair, gloved hands laced together and propping up his chin.

Slowly, I stood up and removed my jacket. If I had to do what this asshole wanted me to in order to keep my career, and my friends careers, safe, then what choice did I have?

My shirt joined the pile of clothes next, then my shoes, socks, belt and pants. He didn’t say a word as I took them off. All that was left now was my underwear. I looked at him, humiliated and blushing furiously. My eyes begged him not to make me do this as I awkwardly covered myself.

“Either you take them off willingly, or I’ll make you take them off.”

I swallowed my heart back down into my chest and slowly bent forward, hiding myself as much as I could with my body as I removed my underwear. I didn’t want to stand back up, but I knew I had to. I was certain he was trying to humiliate me and staying bent over surely wouldn’t be enough for him. Knowing I’d done it wasn’t the same as seeing it for himself and I didn’t want to make this pyscho angry.

Using my hands to cover myself, I stood back up; eyes closed tight. I couldn’t even look at him I was so embarrassed. It felt like my whole body was blushing.

“Good boy. That wasn’t so hard now was it?”

I trembled. My eyes were squeezed shut, but I could feel his deep, rich, words dripping down my skin like warm honey.

I heard him stand up and embarrassed or not, I opened my eyes. I didn’t want any surprises.

He was walking away from his desk toward the north wall of his office. Once he was there, he lifted a statuette off a book shelf and like magic the wall beside the shelf depressed and then slid out of the way. A secret door? Who had secret doors? Who the hell was this guy, some kind of Bond villain?

He beckoned for me to follow him inside. I didn’t want to, but I did anyway. Part of me was incredibly curious as to what was in the hidden room. The five year old part that still enjoyed playing video games and building stuff with Lego.

I was shaking as I walked over to the door. He had disappeared inside the hidden room and for a split second I thought about escaping. I ignored that thought though; I was naked which meant I would have to either run through the entire building in my birthday suit, or I’d have to stop and put my clothes back on. Either way I knew he’d catch me and I’d end up right back here. Only he’d be angry. I didn’t want that. Not at all. He was one of the calmest people I’d ever met, but I’d seen a volcanic mountain before and I knew that underneath the picturesque tranquility of the mountain side there was a horrible pressure building beneath the surface that could explode out and rain fiery terror over everything and everyone. I didn’t want to risk that with Iason.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped into the room.

As soon as I was inside the door slid shut behind me and I felt a gloved hand on my arm. I cried out in surprise and opened my eyes. What I saw was dramatically underwhelming given my response. It was just an apartment. A very nice looking apartment, but an apartment none the less.

“What the—“

“Welcome to my home away from home, so to speak.”

“You live here?”

“Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I spend more time in this building than I would like, but it is what it is.”

I gave him a confused look and he smiled at me as he directed me further into the apartment.

“Traveling back and forth by helicopter between my estate outside the city and my office was getting to be too cumbersome given the late hours I tend to work. I had the offices down this wing ripped out so I could construct an apartment for myself.”

That would explain why there were no other doors leading down the hallway to his office. Or at least it explained the east side of the hallway. There were no doors on the West side either.

“Must be nice to be so rich,” I scoffed, looking around at the room. It was much more comfortable-looking than Iason’s office. There were a lot of warm earth tones, rounded edges and brushed nickel. The furniture looked soft and inviting.

“It has its advantages and its disadvantages.”

 I couldn’t think of a disadvantage to being so rich that building yourself an apartment at work was a solution to too many late night helicopter rides, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Why did you make me take my clothes off just to tour your apartment?”

Iason stopped walking and turned around to look at me.

“Because I could.”

A shudder ran down my spine, but I couldn’t decide if I was out of intrigue or disgust.

He walked back to me and put his finger under my chin. His other hand reached down and rested over the hands I had covering my junk.

“You’re going to be spending quite a fair amount of time naked in my presence, so you best get used to it now.”

“Fuck you,” I spat angrily.

Rather than retaliating, he lowered his head down to me and pressed his lips to mine. My spine went rigid instantly and a tiny gasp gave his tongue the access to my mouth it had been so gently seeking.

I expected him to be rough with me after what I’d just said, but his kiss was slow and warm; almost tender, as though he were savoring it. Not even Guy had ever kissed me with such delicate finesse and it made my knees tremble. I tried to resist him, but his intoxicating warm scent and the closeness of his body made it impossible. Also I was naked and struggling in any capacity would involve taking my hands away from my groin, something I wasn’t prepared to do.

Just as I was really starting to get into it, he broke the kiss. To my own mortification a tiny sound of disappointment escaped my throat as his lips left mine.

He smirked at me triumphantly. “It seems your bark is far worse than your bite.”

I glared at him and then looked away, embarrassed. I was there against my will, and yet, somehow, this twisted son of a bitch had made me want that kiss to continue. He had to be using some kind of magic, or maybe airborne drugs of some kind.

He just laughed and put his hand on my shoulder, leading me past the living room and down the single hallway.

“Where are we going?”  I asked nervously, suddenly far more concerned that we were leaving the relative safety and comfort of the living room.

“To my bedroom,” he replied confidently.

I tried to put on the breaks then and there, but he was stronger than me and he gripped my shoulder in his hand tightly, causing me to cry out in pain.

“I wouldn’t disagree with me if I were you.”

Once again incredibly frightened of him, I stopped resisting and let him lead me to the door at the end of the hallway. He opened it and, with a firm hand pressed to my lower back, ushered me inside.

He followed me into the cavernous room. The warm color scheme carried in from the living room to this one.

“On the bed,” he ordered sharply.

I didn’t argue. I crawled onto the massive, king-sized bed across the room and huddled in the center of it with my knees hugged to my chest.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me. His puzzled expression seemed to be mocking my fear.

“You’re shaking, Riki. Are you afraid of me?”

I looked at him apprehensively. “Yes…” I whispered.

He moved closer to me on his hands and knees.


He pressed me back against the sheets and kissed me again, more roughly this time than the first. I kept my knees together and my hands down covering myself, but he quickly removed them and pinned them above my head with one of his own.

I panicked and struggled against him. It was an involuntary response to being naked and held down against my will with all my vital areas laid out bare for him to do with as he liked.

“Let me go!” I demanded, my voice high and panicked.

“Not yet.” He used his free hand to reach down and fondle me. I was terrified of him and yet to my horror he was able to coax my erection to life. It was fairly soft, not nearly hard enough to do anything with, but it mortified me none the less.

He kissed me again, forcing his tongue into my mouth when I cried out.

“I’m going to get something.” He stated, breaking away. He brought my hands down over my body and placed them against my half-hardened cock.

“You are going to stay here and play with yourself until I get back. If you aren’t hard by the time I arrive, you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”

I nodded my head in agreement, but avoided his gaze. I could only imagine what he had in mind when he said punishment.

“Good boy.”

My spine tingled.

I continued to lay there after he left, hands still in place over my groin. I didn’t want to fondle myself after what I’d just been through, but I didn’t want to be punished either, whatever that meant. Fighting back tears of frustration, fear, and anger, I spat into my hand and started to masturbate. I forced myself to think about Guy’s body, about the big boobs on the secretary I’d seen, and the weird club kid’s ass as I stroked myself. It wasn’t really working, but things were starting to tingle and feel good down below so I didn’t give up. I used every trick in my arsenal to coax an erection out of myself; I didn’t know when he would be back, so I knew I had to work fast. The pressure to perform was not helping matters, but I tried not to think about that as I squeezed and stroked and massaged my hardening cock.

Apparently Iason didn’t have to go very far, because he was back in less than five minutes.

I jumped when I heard the door close behind him, but I didn’t dare stop stroking myself, for fear that my erection would deflate before he had a chance to see it.

“Let’s see how you did,” he stated inquisitively as he sat back down on the bed.

I moved my hands and let him see me. It wasn’t the hardest boner I’d ever had in my life, but it was hard enough that it wasn’t lying flat against my belly anymore.

He grasped it in his hand and squeezed it gently. He stroked me a few times and smiled.

“You must really not want to be punished,” he laughed darkly, before nodding his head. “But it’s acceptable nonetheless.”

He let go of me and I watched him anxiously take something out of a thin black box on the bed.

“Sit up and come here.”

I couldn’t tell what the item was, but I obeyed him. I sat beside him nervously, legs tucked underneath me. “What is it?” I asked tentatively.

He held the object out to me in the palm of his hand. It was a black braided cable ring about half an inch thick and joined in the middle by its connected stainless steel end caps. A deep blue stone was set into the middle of each cap design.

“It’s called a day collar.”

“A what?”

“A day collar. It symbolizes my ownership and you will wear it at all times from today onward.”

“I don’t fucking think so.”

He grasped the back of my hair and pulled my head back painfully. “Did you want to rethink your previous statement?”

I gasped and cried out.

“F-fine! I’ll wear it.”

“Good boy,” he praised, letting go of my hair. He inserted a tiny silver object into a miniscule hole on the collar between the blue stones and it opened. He put it around my neck and fiddled with it under my chin until it was locked in place. I shook my head once his hands were away from my neck and felt the weight of it sitting against my collar bone. It wasn’t overly tight, but it was definitely heavier than it looked.

“I’m the only one with the eyelet key that opens it so don’t try taking it off.”

I kept my hand on the collar, coming to terms with what it meant for me. I felt incredibly disheartened by it, like my life was somehow ending.

“Why are you doing this to me,” I asked weakly.

He raised my chin with his finger and looked at me. His expression was firm, but sincere.

“Because I can.” He moved closer to me and pulled me against his chest. I froze in his arms, like a rabbit pinned down by a wolf.

“The very first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you. You were so dark and beautiful and upset with the world.” He stroked my hair lightly as he spoke. “And now you’re mine.”

He touched my collar. “My beautiful wolf; my pretty pet.”

My heart was beating hard in my chest. I had never heard anyone speak about another person as he spoke about me, like I was some commodity that he could just take because it suited him to do so. It was incredibly unsettling.

“I’m not a thing you can own.”

“Oh yes you are,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll show you.”

After removing his glove, his hand dipped low to my cock and began to stroke it. My hand moved to grasp his wrist, trying to stop him from touching me, but it did nothing. His other hand moved to his mouth and he slowly pulled off his glove between his teeth. The hand moved to my mouth and he pushed his finger between my lips. I resisted opening my mouth, but he squeezed my cock painfully and forced his fingers inside when I cried out.

“Suck,” he commanded in a breathy whisper. I had no choice but to do as he asked.

The hand stroking me down below was starting to feel good, despite my tries to resist it.


I gasped around his fingers and he pulled them out of my mouth. I felt a cold trail of saliva follow them past my lips and shuddered. He moved the hand down and started to rub his wet fingers in small circled against my asshole. My hips bucked involuntarily at the unfamiliar sensation and I started to struggle against him.

 “Don’t! Please don’t!” I begged. But my demands fell on deaf ears as I felt his finger press inside me.


A burning pain blossomed around his finger and the heat of it shot up through my body, making me cry out and struggle even harder against him.

“Be still!” he ordered, putting a strangle hold on my cock.

I cried out in pain and collapsed in defeat against his chest, tears falling from my eyes as I cried silently. My shoulders shook. He made soft comforting sounds and pressed his cheek to my head, but it did little to help anything.

He started to move his finger in and out of me as he stroked my dick and, at first, all I could feel was the burning pain of it inside me. It didn’t last long though as I adjusted to it. To my horror, it was actually starting to feel good. I stopped crying soon after and shut my eyes tightly as I held onto his right wrist and left forearm, breathing hard.

He angled the next thrust of his finger upward sharply and all at once a wonderful sensation shot through my body and down into the head of my cock.


He laughed quietly. “Does it feel good there?”


“Oh, I think it does.”

He rubbed the spot again while he pumped my cock and my back bowed against him. I couldn’t help myself.


He kept pressing and rubbing the spot inside of me repeatedly as he squeezed and stroked my cock. I bucked against his hand and writhed in his lap, squeezing his wrist and arm tight in my hands. I was so aroused at that point that when I was suddenly stretched open further by a second finger pressing in next to the first, I came. Hard.

He moaned quietly and bent his neck forward to kiss me, swallowing the tail end of my sex cry as I pumped my seed out all over his wrist and hand.

He let me rest for a few seconds, but while I was still panting he brought his hand to my mouth, the one coated in my semen.

 “You’re such a good boy, Riki. Now, clean up the mess you’ve made.”

I balked at this mentally, but was in such a weakened post-climactic state that I didn’t resist him. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d licked up my own cum. Every guy tries it at least once, right?

Closing my eyes, I stuck out my tongue and licked the salty aftermath of my orgasm off his hand in long, slow passes. It was gross, but it was my own cum so it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Truth be told I was kind of turned on by it.

I snuck a peek and found him watching me with intense fascination as I cleaned his hand, every so often exhaling a shaking breath against my ear.

When there was nothing left on his hand I collapsed back against his chest in both mental and physical exhaustion; my collar hanging heavily against the base of my throat.

“You did very well, pet. Now, it’s my turn.” He moved me off his chest carefully and laid me face down against the bed. I tensed up instinctively as I looked at him warily over my shoulder, completely unsure if he was going to try and fuck me or not.

He must have noticed my tension because he patted my thigh reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to penetrate you just yet. You’re far too tight for that to be enjoyable for either of us right now.”

A wave of relief spread over me. Hearing that took a lot of anxiety off my shoulders, as I’d been worrying about it since the first time we’d met.

He stroked my upper thigh down to my knee and then back up. “You’ll feel nothing but pleasure, I promise. I’m going to make you so ready for it that you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

I shivered and moaned a little bit at this “threat”. I hated myself for being so turned on right now, but I couldn’t help it. I’d just come, but I wanted more.


He moved over top of me and spread my thighs apart with his knees. He pulled on my hips, bringing them up in the air. I was tense, but he’d promised not to take me until I was good and ready, so in an uncharacteristic show of trust, I allowed him to finish positioning me. I felt vulnerable and awkward, my face a mask of red that I hoped he couldn’t see.

I couldn’t see what he was doing behind me, but I could hear him masturbating. Then I felt cold, wet fingers press against my asshole. I cried out and bucked my hips forward.

“Stay still,” he commanded huskily. I slowly moved my hips back into place and bit down on the blanket, afraid of what he was going to do.

I felt one finger slide inside me and I gasped, clenching down on it. It didn’t hurt this time, it was more shocking than anything else. It was also more pleasurable in this position, with my ass up in the air and my chest pressed to the bed.

“Don’t tense up like that. Just relax, Riki.”

I took deep breaths and concentrated on doing as he said. He slid a second finger inside beside the first and that one did hurt. I whimpered and grunted as I struggled to relax. He rubbed my lower back soothingly and eventually I opened up enough for the pain to subside. Despite the light residual burning sensation, my erection was returning and it started to twitch and jerk as it hung heavily between my legs. I moved my hips a little from side to side to feel it swing and I heard him laughing at me under his breath.

“Be a good boy and touch yourself,” he ordered, his voice warm and comforting.

Under normal circumstances, or hell, even ten minutes before, I wouldn’t have given a shit if I was a “good boy” or not, but right now…

Right now I wanted it. God help me but I wanted to do whatever he said and I couldn’t understand why. Panting, I bit down on the blanket and took my cock in my hand. His fingers moved inside me as I started stroking it and it didn’t take me long to realize that he was timing his movements to match mine.

“Faster,” he ordered. I obeyed, increasing the speed at which I pumped my cock. His fingers and, from the sound of it, his own hand, increased in speed as well. Almost immediately he moved the angle of his fingers toward my prostate and began to massage it at the end of each thrust.

I moaned into the bed and bucked my hips back against his hand, inviting them to move deeper inside. I could hear him panting and straining behind me, and I knew he was pumping himself vigorously because I could feel the bed bouncing and moving beneath me.

I cried out shamelessly as he fucked me with his fingers.

Ahaah…t-there! More, there!”

He was pressing his fingers in and out quickly now, thrusting them in as far as they would go. I was lost in my pleasure, feeling my body contract as it prepared for orgasm. He was breathing heavily as he moved closer to me. He removed his fingers quickly and pressed the tip of himself against my hole as I started to cum. I heard him climax behind me almost simultaneously, his hot seed pumping out against, and just inside of, my twitching hole.

He collapsed forward onto my back when he was finished, holding himself up on one arm as his dick hung down between my ass cheeks.

“Such a good pet,” he panted, kissing the back of my neck sensually.

I was breathing hard, and didn’t really have it in me to physically resist him.

“Fuck you, Iason.” I mumbled into the blankets.

He breathed out a single bemused laugh against my neck and then brought his lips next to my ear.

“Call me Master.”

Chapter Text


It didn't take Guy long to notice Iason’s “gift” around my neck. He pointed it out a few nights after I received it when we were out getting dinner at the mall. It was only a few blocks away from our apartment and the pasta place we liked was open late.

“Is that necklace new?” he asked, poking his fork at my neck.

I flinched and my blood ran cold; I thought for a split second that, by noticing the collar, he would somehow know about what Iason was doing to me. I sat there, my muscles tensed, but I played it off as naturally as I could. I gave him a mocking smirk and pointed my chin toward his fork. “You know in some cultures, pointing your cutlery at someone is a proposal of marriage.”

He went white and lowered his fork to his plate. I started laughing at him and almost knocked my coke over when my hand smacked the table.

“You should see the look on your face!”  I laughed, my eyes lighting up gleefully to mask my anxiety, “My God man, relax, I was just fucking with you!”

He swallowed hard and laughed along with me, albeit in a much more subdued way. The tops of his cheeks were dusted with a brilliant red, which I found incredibly endearing.

“Sorry for pointing at you,” he muttered, taking a bite of his spaghetti.

I smiled at him gently and reached across the small table to pat his hand. “It’s fine. Sorry for being a dick.” He took my hand in his and held it loosely before I could pull it away. I looked around for judgmental eyes, but I didn’t see any; it was nine on a Sunday night and our booth was in a pretty secluded section of the restaurant. He started to stroke the back of my knuckles with his thumb. He’d never held my hand in public before and the feeling of it filled my heart with warmth, even if I was more than a bit nervous about being found out.

We both went back to our meals, his hand still on mine, but I soon realized that he wasn’t really eating, he was just kind of poking at his pasta with his fork and looking at it with a very contemplative expression. I didn’t want to embarrass him by bringing it up so I left well enough alone and took a drink of my coke.

“So, I guess you want to get married someday, huh?” he asked.

I nearly choked to death on my soda.

He sat up immediately, offering me a napkin and looking extremely concerned. “Are you okay, Riki?”

I wiped my mouth with the napkin as I continued to cough carbonated sugar water and red dye number four out of my lungs.

“Y-yeah,” I coughed, trying to shrug it off as something humorous by smiling through the agony. “Coke went down the wrong goddam tube.” I smacked my chest, laughing and coughing until I was able to breathe semi-normally again. Our waitress actually came over to see us, concerned I was choking on my food. I tried to pull my hand away from Guy’s as she approached, but he held onto it firmly. He gave me a hard, determined, look before turning to the waitress. He almost seemed to be challenging her to say something about us with his eyes as she approached. She looked a bit uncomfortable, though I couldn’t tell if it was because we were holding hands or because of the challenging stare Guy was giving her. Either way, she didn’t make any comments about it. Once she’d assured herself that I was fine and left us a pile of napkins, she scurried away as quick as she politely could and left us alone.

I was quiet after she left, the coughing fit over with. Guy’s defensive alpha bullshit with the waitress confused me because he normally wasn’t like that. Whatever it was that had come over him seemed to have passed though, because he was once again back to being his usual unobtrusive self. I cradled my hand in my lap nervously and chewed the inside of my lower lip as I wondered why he’d suddenly felt the need to be so open about our relationship. It wasn’t even so much how he’d behaved around the waitress that bothered me, it was the fact that he wouldn’t let me pull my hand away when I had felt the need to do so. Now, it was my turn to poke at my food.

“Why didn’t you let me pull my hand back?” I demanded quietly, my voice low and taciturn. I was trying to make him realize that what he’d done had upset me because, based on the frown lines between his eyebrows from when I pulled my hand back, I was guessing that he hadn’t yet.

His shoulders tensed, and he shrugged. “I didn’t want to let go.”

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “It’s just…I thought we agreed to be a bit more discreet around other people. At least until after the media tour at the end of the month.”

I looked away after that, embarrassed.

He leaned closer to me over the table, pushing his plate aside and turning my face back toward his. “Are you—” his voice was anxious, his expression pained,“—are you ashamed of our relationship?”

My brows drew together remorsefully, apologetically, as I took his hand from my face and held it between both of mine.

“No, of course not,” I reassured him, my words coming out of me in a hushed and heart-felt murmur.

He made a derisive sound and pulled his hand out of mine so he could reach into his pants and pull out his wallet.

I watched, bewildered and hurt, as he put enough money down on the table to cover our meal twice over. “Guy, what are you—“

“I’m paying so I can leave,” he retorted tensely, not even letting me finish.

I reached out and grabbed his arm, desperate to keep him from leaving. “Guy, stop! Please, I care about you a lot and I meant what I said, I just…” I looked down at the ground, ashamed to say what I was feeling aloud; ashamed to tell him I didn’t want to jeopardize our careers for the sake of having a public relationship. I knew the seed of doubt had been planted inside him; I could see it sprouting behind his eyes as he avoided looking directly into mine.

I was sorry I’d upset him, but sorry did nothing for the person who’d been hurt; apologies without actions to back them up were for easing guilty consciences and nothing more. Sorry was not going to fix this. I needed to do something to make that look in his eyes go away, to make him smile again and mean it, or I was going to be killed by the crushing weight of his half-glances and my own haunting thoughts of what might have been.

He put his hand on the one I had clutching his arm. “I know you care about me, Riki. I care about you too; more than you realize.” His eyes softened along with his voice and he took my hand off his arm. “But I’m having a harder time dealing with this than I thought I would. I need some time alone so I can think about this.” He started to lean in to kiss my cheek, but stopped himself abruptly, pain and regret on his face. It hurt me so much, but I couldn’t even complain because I’d told him not to kiss me in public. This was all my fault.

“Sorry, ” He murmured bitterly. He shoved his hands in his pockets angrily and turned to walk away.

I held my hand out to him, pleading. “Guy, please, don’t go...”

He didn’t turn around. I was left standing there beside our table; confused, hurt, and on the verge of tears.


Not wanting to go back to the silence of my empty apartment, my feet found their way from Midas Centre Mall and into Depravities, the nearest open club. The music was tolerably loud, the DJ seemed energetic and was playing what sounded like Top-Forties hits, but there weren’t as many people as I was expecting. Maybe because it was a Sunday, I rationalized. To the credit of the DJ, most of the people who were in the club were congregated on the massive dance floor, which was fortunate for me because I was just there to sit at the bar and get drunk.

I parked myself on one of the round bar stools and flagged the bartender down.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

I ordered a shot of Jaeger and a pint of beer; a Jeager Bomb was the perfect thing to start the night off on the wrong foot because who the fuck cared what kind of night I had, really? Certainly not Guy, or he’d have been there drinking with me, I thought bitterly. I dropped the shot into the beer once it was served and slammed the whole thing in under a minute. I felt an instant rush of heat spread outward through my entire body as the alcohol hit me. A twinge of disgust came shortly thereafter as the bitter black-liquorice-and-cough-medicine aftertaste of the Jeager lingered harshly in my mouth.

One Jeager Bomb quickly turned into three and before the hour was out, I was starting to feel the wonderful numbing effect of the liquor on my brain. Thoughts of how fast the night had gone from wonderful to fucked up started to dissipate into the fuzzy outer realm of my conscious thought. The only thing left in the center was a pleasant tingling dullness and that’s exactly what I’d come to the bar to find. It wasn’t enlightenment and inner peace, but it was sure as shit better than nothing.

The bartender was giving me a concerned look when I started waving him over for another round. I glared at him and ordered another beer.

“Keep ‘em coming,” I said, my words sloppy and loose inside my mouth.

“Make it two please.”

I turned toward the voice and shock filled my eyes when I realized it was the slutty, odd-eyed, weirdo I’d seen coming out of Iason’s office the last time I was there. He was wearing a similar outfit to the one I’d first seen him in. Bangles up his wrists, a black mesh tank, white infinity scarf wrapped around his neck and skin tight, neon-green jeans laced with a metallic-white belt.

You!” I gasped, not even bothering to cover up my gawking stare of disbelief.

He smiled at me shamelessly, flashing his dazzling white teeth. He put out his hand. “Kirie,” he offered cordially.

I stared at his hand for far longer than I ought to have, but I couldn’t help it: I was drunk and his nails were distracting; painted black with a rainbow of colored splashes and layered with delicate silver details. His wrists, too, beguiled me; they were a riot of color, with so many bangles and bands and straps and cords that I wondered how he was even able to bend them. When he started to giggle at me, I realized I was being rude and finally took his hand. He surprised me with the strength of his grip; he was much stronger than I ever would have thought, given his outward appearance. The look in his eyes seemed darker during the split second my surprise registered on my face, but it could have been the flashing lights. Or the liquor. I was thinking both.

He lowered his chin and looked at me expectantly. It took me a minute to realize what he was waiting for. I put my hand behind my head, embarrassed. “Oh. Right. Riki,” I replied awkwardly. Better late and awkward than perfect, but never, I suppose.

He smiled politely. “Mind if I join you, Oh-Right-Riki?” he asked, clearly teasing me as he gestured toward me.

I hoped he couldn’t see the red on my cheeks in the dim light. “Not at all, and just Riki is fine by the way.”

He rolled his beautifully shadowed eyes as he sat down on the stool beside me, our beers having already been placed in front of us on those tiny little bar napkins that weren’t actually useful for anything other than becoming soggy little clumps under your glass. Kirie didn’t plop down or plunk down in the heavy, jolting way that most guys would have ; his movement was smooth and almost delicate in its execution. He worked out, that much was clear from the sinewy tension under his exposed skin, but the control he had over his body even while doing simple things like sitting down made me think he had a background in dance.

“I saw you at JR the other day,” I stated earnestly. “You were coming out of Iason’s office.”

He raised a pierced eyebrow at me and I noticed for the first time that the right side of his head was shaved; his remaining hair was tussled and artfully pulled over to the left side of his head. Had it been like that on Thursday? I honestly couldn’t recall. My mind could really only focus on the memory I had of his odd eyes and how tight his ass had looked in those purple pants. His eyes were still odd, one brown, one blue which must have meant they were natural. That or he was very dedicated to keeping up the illusion.

“On a first name basis with him, are you?” His tone was flirtatious and investigative as he sipped his beer.

I blushed, realizing it was out of place for an employee to casually use the first name of the companies CEO in passing.

“No no no,” I stammered defensively. “I’m not on a—we’re not on a—I was just—“

He reached out boldly and rested three of his fingers on my lips. His eyes were flirtatious, but not sexual. “I was only teasing you, cutie. No need to get your feathers ruffled.”

I was relieved I didn’t have to speak anymore, but self-conscious because I couldn’t tell if he was one of those people who used flirtatious nicknames and body language with everyone, or if he was actually hitting on me. I smiled at him uneasily and took a drink of my beer.


Kirie and I sat there drinking together as the night wore on, getting to know one another and discussing our music. As it turns out he wasn’t a hooker after all; he was an up-and-coming singer/songwriter with a few pretty popular hits—two of which I’d actually heard on the radio. He was also being produced by Raoul Am, the same as my band.

“He’s a bit of a douchebag though right?” I commented in a snarky tone. I was now onto my seventh beer of the evening, if you counted my three Jeager Bombs, and I was getting pretty out of it. Enough to insult my producer out loud. Kirie was quiet as I talked, his head propped up on his hand against the bar; just listening.

“I mean everyone knows he’s the best producer in Tanagura, but the guy can be such an insulting prick sometimes!”

Kirie finished his drink before replying.  “I don’t feel that way about him,” he shrugged casually, “but I’ve known him longer than you have. Gideon, my manager, introduced us some time ago, before I’d even been signed to JR. Raoul is actually a pretty interesting person once you get him away from work and he can let his hair down, so to speak.”

I balked and made a disgusted face at this.

“Raoul wouldn’t be my first choice of wing man,” I slurred matter-of-factly, “but to each their own I suppose. Guy on the other hand has always been really good at that. He and I would—“ I paused mid-sentence. I didn’t want to think about Guy right now. He was the reason I was at that bar getting plastered in the first place.

Kirie perked up at this. “Who’s Guy?” he asked, teasing.

I smiled at him sullenly and drained the rest of my beer. “My boyfriend,” I answered in a mumble.

“You’re gay?” He asked, completely astonished. “Wow. You know, I’ve got a reputation for being able to pick up on things like that from a mile away, but with you, honey, I never would have guessed.”

I gave him a cocky look. “I’m not gay, so your reputation is safe.”

He nodded with understanding. “Ooh, I see. So you play for both teams then?”

It was my turn to raise a brow. “I’m bisexual, I think—or at least something along those lines. Haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

The bartender came to see if we wanted any more to drink and I ordered us both another round.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughed, fanning his face with his hand, “I leave with my reputation intact!”

I gave him a lopsided grin.

“So, where is your lucky gentleman tonight?” He looked around, craning his neck in a comical fashion, even though he had no idea what Guy even looked like. Seems I wasn’t the only one who was drunk.

“At his apartment I think. We’re sort of…fighting right now.”

“Oh no…”

He seemed pretty intuitive when it came to picking up other people’s emotions because he wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. Now normally I’d have shrugged him off; I’m not touchy person, by default. It was amazing though what seven beers and a heart that was bruised and tender could make you accepting of.

“What are you fighting about?” he asked, rubbing my shoulder gently.

I rubbed my face with my hand and pushed my bangs out of my face. “I want to keep our relationship on the down low when we’re out in public. He said that was fine when we talked about it the first time, but tonight he went all macho-alpha on me and this poor waitress and then when I asked him why, he told me he’s not okay with it after all.”

Kirie gave me a sympathetic look. “So, you want to stay in the closet and he wants to be out in the open?”

“No—well, yah, but not exactly.” I groaned and rubbed my forehead sluggishly. “I don’t want it to be this way forever,” I defended. “I just think it should be this way until we get our single out and things quiet down with the media.”

Kirie looked up at the ceiling with closed eyes. He exhaled slowly before looking at me with a comforting smile. It was the kind of blow-softening smile you gave to someone before you gave them bad news.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s not going to quiet down. That’s not how this industry works. If you debut as a straight-as-nails group of guys it will only be a bigger scandal later on when it gets out. Not if. When. These things always do.”

I rested my head on my folded arms. “What should I do?”

He patted my back in silence for a while. It was comforting having him there, even though I’d barely known him four hours and I didn’t really enjoy physical contact on a good day. We had a lot in common I supposed, and he seemed so open and caring that it was easy to let him in.

Kirie got off the stool and leaned over me to take my hand in his. I looked up at him, perplexed.

“You should come dance with me,” he smiled.


He laughed and pulled me up. “I said, come dance with me. It’ll be good for you.”

I pulled back and tried to sit back down, but he scooted behind me and kept me from the chair.

“Oh no you don’t!” He pushed me forward and I reluctantly took a step. “Come on I love this song!”

We got to the floor and he took my hand as he began to sway his body to the beat. It would be unfair of me to say that I didn’t appreciate the gyrating motion of his hips, because I did, but he was getting awfully close to me with them. I backed away.

“What the matter?” He yelled over the music.

“I have a boyfriend, Kirie, I can’t do this!”

He started laughing hard at this. “I’m seeing someone too! Dancing isn’t about dating or sex it’s all about fun! Just go with it!”

To my drunk brain his logic made perfect sense. We weren’t doing anything untoward, we were just moving with the music and having a good time. He was moving his hips again and I was convinced now that he must have had a background in dance because the way his body was moving to the heavy bass of the song was hypnotic. He backed against me in those skin tight pants and this time I didn’t push him away. I put my hands around his waist and just let go.


Kirie had said it would be good for me to get up and dance, and I hated to admit that he was right, but he was right. I felt a lot better once I got up and really started to get into the music and follow the motion of his body. Music was my true passion in life, it was something that never brought me down no matter the circumstances. Even the stress I was dealing with at work had nothing to do with the music. It was the people at work that gave me the headaches.

Both of us were stumbling by the time the club actually closed for the night; partially from the alcohol…okay, mostly from the alcohol, but also because we’d danced our asses off under those flashing lights. I knew now why he wore mesh tops: it was fucking hot moving around in that group of sweaty people fully clothed.

“I can’t let you walk home so late, Riki,” Kirie confessed drunkenly, putting his arm around my back to steady me. I was worse for wear by far from dancing and out of the two of us, was definitely the most hammered. I wrapped my arm around him for support and waved his comment off.

“I’m so fine! I walk home from places all’ther time!”

“Okay, but let’s get a cab so I can help you get home.”

Forgetting what we’d even just been talking about, I nodded my head. He was the more sober one so it made sense that he would know better than me anyway. I shrugged my right shoulder. “M’okay fine.”

We hopped into the first cab that came by. It was yellow and for some reason I found that funny.  That was definitely the booze. We got in and the next thing I knew Kirie was shaking me to wake me up.

“Come on let’s get you inside,” he strained, holding up some of my body weight under his smaller frame.

“I’m on the third floor,” I instructed as I fumbled with my keys to open the front door of the building. It was a miracle I even still had my keys since I am confident that at one point that evening I’d thrown my jacket across the bar because I was hot.

Kirie was laughing as we stumbled into the building, urging me onward. This made me get the giggles too and by the time we got to my door we were both laughing so hard my neighbors yelled at us to shut up.

“No can do!” I called back, my words dangling out of my mouth in loose syllables.

Kirie laughed and put his hand over my mouth again as I opened the door. His fingers smelled and tasted oddly sweet.

“He can go suck a donkey off!” I declared through his fingers drunkenly. “He’s always telling me to shut up!”

“Shhh!” His delicious tasting fingers were on my mouth again. I tried to bat them away, but I missed and all I grabbed was air.

You shhh!” I mimicked as I took off my boots. I stumbled as I yanked the second one off and I fell right into him, pressing him into the wall with my side. He laughed and pushed me off him, helping me stand up straight.

His hands went to my shoulders to steady me and though he was almost exactly my height, he seemed to be looking up at me. He smiled and I smiled back too, a big goofy grin that stretched across my face.

The next thing I knew his lips were on mine, kissing me.

I was too drunk to be shocked by it and when he pulled away, I just laughed.

“Wow…” I marvelled, touching my lips. “Why’d you’do that?”

He wasn’t laughing. I sensed through my stupor that his mood had definitely changed from playful to serious.

“What’sa matter?” I asked. “Cat got your—“

He was kissing me again before I could finish my sentence. He turned us around and pressed me against the wall so forcefully I feared for the drywall. He was making hungry, desperate, sounds as he fed at my mouth; chewing, licking, sucking, swirling. His tongue was moving as expertly inside my mouth as his body had been moving on the dance floor and my body couldn’t help responding to it.

“We should…stop…”

He put his fingers to my lips again. “Shhh—Just go with it.” He kissed me again, firmer this time.

I knew somewhere in my mind that this was not right, that Guy would be upset if he found out I’d kissed Kirie, but alcohol amplifies emotions and the emotion it was amplifying in me was anger. I wanted to hurt Guy, the way he’d made me hurt tonight; by lying to me about his feelings and leaving me standing alone, even though I’d pleaded for him to stay.

The long, hard, line of Kirie’s lithe body was pressed against me so close as he threaded his fingers into my hair that I could feel his hardened nipples pressing through the mesh of his top against my chest. I groaned and started to move away from the wall. Together, kissing and trying not to fall, we stumbled through my apartment to my bedroom.

With practiced ease he pulled off his top and scarf and then pushed me back on the bed. I looked up at him with open awe. He was so hot it was crazy and he was standing half naked in my bedroom. I thought back to the first day I’d laid eyes on him; watching him swing his hips down the hall away from me. Then I thought back to the club, watching him as he ground himself against me in a sensual rhythm that felt impossibly sexual. All of that raw sexual energy I’d felt around him was woven together and standing in front of me, caressing himself through his jeans. I wanted to say no, but my mouth couldn’t form the words.

He wore nothing but a pair of bright purple underwear now and I groaned and reached for him as he came and leaned against the bed, spreading my legs with his knees. He undid the buckle of my belt, sliding the tongue out of it and pulling the rest of the soft leather through the loops on my black jeans. He folded it in half and snapped it together once, loudly, making me jump.

“Scared little rabbit, aren’t you?”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just lay there with my eyes moving over him and my heart beating fast.

The belt ended up somewhere on the other side of the bed.

His eyes were so intense as he undid my jeans that I almost came right then and there; he didn’t look away for a second.

Once they were off and I was in my underwear—which were far less fancy than his Calvin’s—he crawled over me. He had all four limbs over me, straddling me like a mare stands over her foal, only the look in his eyes was not one of comfort and protection, it was all predator.

He lowered himself to press his groin against mine and ground his hips against me slowly, back and forth, while he kissed me. It was unbelievably sensual and even when he pulled my hair with both of his hands, it didn’t deter my brain from sending every ounce of blood in my body to my dick.

He drew a hissing breath inward through his teeth as he reached down to slowly caress the length of me through my underwear. “You’re bigger than I expected,” he remarked in a heady groan. His hand continued to touch me, moving over me in firm strokes.

“Sorry?” I replied, too drunk and too horny to pick up on his subtleties.

He laughed. “Nothing to be sorry about. I like them big.”

It donned on me then that I wasn’t the one in control of this encounter, and yet I didn’t feel I was the one who was going to be fucked either.

“I’ve never had’a dick in my ass before,” I admitted simply, completely unconcerned that this might be something embarrassing for me to say if I wasn’t intoxicated.

“I know, cutie,” he said and the oddity of such a statement wasn’t entirely lost on me. Most of it was, but not all of it. I shivered.

“How do you—“

He kissed me to silence me and pulled his own erection out of his underwear, rubbing us together in his hand the way Guy always did when he was on top of me.


I shook my head, brushing his mouth off me and he made an affronted sound. I put a hand over my eyes. “No,” I moaned, “no, no, we can’t do this—Guy…I love Guy...”

“Guy isn’t here right now,” Kirie replied in an odd, overly composed voice. “But I’m here.” He stroked us again and I moaned. It was so hard to concentrate on saying no when he was doing that.

“Doesn’ matter, I can’t. Kirie, I can’t cheat on’im. He’s my bes’friend. I love him.”

He looked me in the eyes as he stroked us again. “I know you love him, and I’m sure he loves you, but I need you to fuck me.” He laughed quietly as he brought his hand up to grip my chin. He spoke next through gritted teeth. “I really didn’t want to have to tell you this because you’re a really sweet guy, but you’ve left me no choice: If you don’t cum inside me, I don’t get my reward, so you either man up and fuck me, or I’ll tie you to this bed and do it myself.”

This really jolted me out of my lethargic mind set, at least enough to try and process what was happening here. He had to fuck me or—what did he mean by that?

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you have that last beer…” He sighed exasperatedly. He shook my face with his hand roughly to bring me back to the present. “Listen, stud: I’m not leaving without your cum in my ass. Are you going to give it to me or am I taking it from you? It’s your choice, pretty boy, but if you don’t make it fast I’ll be making it for you.”

“Why…do’you need that…what’s it’for?”

He rolled his eyes at me and then groaned. “Why does he always pick dumb ones…”

I was starting to feel really unsure of what was going on and tried to get up.

“No no, you stay right where you are. This will only take a few seconds, I’m sure.” He smiled cynically and pulled his underwear down around his thighs, exposing his cock. It wasn’t overly impressive, but it was thick and had a nice curve to it. I moaned again as I watched it bob between his legs and then closed my eyes. I didn’t want this so why was it turning me on? I thought back to the liquid Iason had given me the first day he’d raped me. It had tasted almost overbearingly sweet. Had Kirie somehow given me something like that? When would he have been able to—

I froze. When he’d put his fingers to my mouth to quiet me down they’d tasted and smelled sweet. Had he been drugging me slowly this entire time? My blood ran cold, but I couldn’t even concentrate on it. Kirie was slowly stroking some kind of cold gel over my cock with his hand and it felt so wonderful that I bucked my hips up into his slick grip.

“Easy, tiger. You’ve probably only got one good shot in you tonight and you’re not wasting it on my palm.”

I stared up at him and watched with horror and arousal as he raised himself up over top of my erection.

“Here we go—“ his words cut off at the end abruptly as he began to impale himself on me. I could feel him shuddering as he lowered himself all the way down, taking me inside him; enveloping me in his slick heat.

“You are a big boy aren’t you?” he panted as I felt his ass press against the tops of my thighs. I was all the way inside him now. He wasted no time after that initial few seconds. He put his hands on my abdomen and began to grind his hips against me.

“No…!” I gasped softly.

He was pumping himself as he rode me hard into the bed. I grunted and bucked my hips as pleasure built inside me. My body was in heaven, but my mind was in hell. Kirie was forcing himself on me, and I was moaning like some kind of animal, begging for more.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his breathing ragged. “See? Feels good doesn’t it—Nnhh!”

I’d thrust up into him particularly hard, trying to convey my displeasure with the situation in the only way I really could.

“Ah! Yes, that’s it!”

I’d tried to hurt him and had only succeeded in pleasuring him more. It was hopeless. I dug my fingers into his hips and bucked against him as fast and hard as I could given the weak state of my drunk muscles. I didn’t want to participate in this in any way, but in my drug and alcohol addled brain I knew that the faster I came, the faster he’d leave so I gave it my all.

“Nnn, yes!” He’d stopped touching himself and had both hands resting on my stomach. “Cum for me! That’s all I want—oh!”

I felt the heat of my arousal build inside me until I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold back. It climbed and climbed until it was spilling out of me in rhythmic bursts and into Kirie’s body. I felt like shit even as I was experiencing one of my most powerful orgasms to date. That my first time penetrating a man had been against my will made me sick.

Kirie didn’t finish. The moment I was done he pulled himself off me and started to gather his clothes.

“You did well. I didn’t have to tie you down or anything.”

“Fuck you, you psychotic runt!”

He smiled at me and turned around, bending forward so I had a really good view of his ass. He pulled his cheeks apart slowly with his hands and looked back over his shoulder at me.

“Say what you will, but I can still feel how warm your cum is inside me.” He reached a finger out and slowly stroked his hole, moaning a little. “If you didn’t like it, at least on some level, you wouldn’t have given me what I wanted, so don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

I was as aroused by the perverted things he was saying and doing in front of me as I was horrified. What was wrong with this kid?

“Just get the fuck out of here,” I groaned, putting a hand over my eyes. I was so tired and disgusted with myself that all I wanted to do was pass out, but there was no way in hell I was sleeping while this psycho was still in my apartment.

He giggled at me and it made my skin crawl. 

When he was dressed he came over to the side of the bed and bent as if to kiss me. I drew back my fist and tried to punch him, but I missed and swung at nothing.

“Ooh feisty. I can see why Iason picked you.”

My heart stopped when he mentioned Iason’s name. Was this all his doing? Had he sent Kirie out after me?


He took my distracted pause to bend down and kiss me on the lips, fast and sweet.

“Thanks for the fun night. Master is going to be so happy with me.” He rubbed his still-erect cock through his tight pants, biting his lip as he looked thoughtfully upward.

I swung my leg out at him and this time I managed to connect, sending him careening harshly into my dresser.

“Ouch!” he screamed childishly, “Fuck you that hurt!”

I sat up and tried to look as imposing as possible, which was not easy given how drunk I was. “Get. The fuck. Out.”

He didn’t look quite so happy anymore, but he did as I said. He left the bedroom and I heard him look inside the fridge.

“I’m taking a water!” he called. “You make sure to hydrate too, you’re drunker than a skunk!”


I heard him giggle, followed by the front door opening and closing.

I stumbled as carefully as I could out to the living room to lock the door behind him. I tried to make it back to my room, but I ended up only getting as far as the sofa.

I collapsed, still naked, onto the soft cushions and right before I passed out I had one single thought: Iason was going to pay.   

Chapter Text

Several days passed after the Sunday from hell and Guy was still avoiding me. I was also feeling a cold settling over my sinuses. The heating in my apartment is questionable at best and I have no doubt my cold is the result of the night I’d spent passed out naked on my sofa. So glad to be able to add ‘being congested’ to the list of things pissing me off this week.

I walked out of the elevator onto the seventeenth floor of the JR building and turned down the hall to head to the studio. I made it a third of the way down the hall when my phone went off, telling me I had a text message. It was the generic text tone I’d assigned to my phone, and not one of the personalized tones I assigned to friends. This piqued my interest because very few people knew my personal cellphone number other than close friends.

I pulled out my phone and swiped the screen, causing the text notification to pop up automatically. My brow furrowed. It was definitely not a number I recognized.

I clicked on the text:



My eyes widened in surprise; my blood running at a shivering temperature through my veins. How had he gotten my number? The question immediately sounded stupid, even in my own head. He was the CEO of a record label, he probably had access to the personal files of everyone in the building. The question now was whether or not I wanted to risk making him angry by ignoring his summons?

My fingers itched to send him a polite go fuck yourself, just to shove that overconfident order down his throat,but I didn’t do it. I remembered the painful squeeze of his hand on my shoulder when I’d tried to resist him in his apartment; the power in his upper body as he effortlessly positioned me on the bed; the strength in his fingers as they moved purposefully inside me, driving me mad. I swallowed hard and, slowly, I turned around; heading back to the elevator with shaking steps.


I made it up the elevator to the fiftieth floor and was particularly proud of myself when I was able to speak to the pretty receptionist outside the long hallway that lead down to Iason’s office without stuttering. God her tits were huge. They had to be fake.

The receptionist smiled at me and told me to head straight down to Iason’s office for my appointment. I stared at her for a moment, astounded. It had barely been ten minutes since he’d sent me that text, I hadn’t replied to let him know I was coming, and yet I was already slotted into his schedule? The nerve of that cocky fucking bastard…

I thanked her hurriedly after she started to give me an awkward look and began to trek down the long, door-less, hallway. Thoughts swirled inside my head as I concentrated on not tripping over my own feet. What did he want? Was he going to expect sex from me this time too? He’d told me last time that he had no immediate plans to fuck me, but I knew from experience that penetration wasn’t a requirement to have sex with someone. Guy and I had managed just fine so far.

My brows furrowed miserably.


My mind and my heart were still a torn up mess from our argument. The memory of being left standing in that restaurant as he walked away still throbbed and ached like an open wound in my heart. To be honest I didn’t know if he was ever going to forgive me. I wanted to go and talk to him myself, but he said he needed time to think about things. How much time was enough time to think about something like that? A few days? A week? A month? I rarely took the time to think about things for very long so I had no basis for comparison.

That was one of the main differences between him and me: he thought about things, took his time and rationalized his thoughts and I tended to just jump into things, dealing with the consequences later. He’d bailed me out of a lot of fights when we were younger; fights that running my mouth had gotten us into and his level headed focus had gotten us out of. I guess us being so different was what made us a really great team.

As far as Bison, our band, was concerned, if I’d left decisions up to him, we never would have gotten signed. It was my willingness to risk failure to achieve success that had pushed everyone to the bleeding edge of their abilities and ultimately what had brought us our success. Guy’s thoughtful nature was paying off now too though, and would continue to do so for a long time to come. He’d been able to negotiate higher royalties, salaries and perks for us before we’d signed with JR and for that I was glad he had demanded the extra time to consider our options. I’d been pissed off at him at the time because my own instinct had been telling me to jump on our opportunity and take whatever they were willing to give us. I’d thought Guy was holding us back, but I realized afterward that he’d been right to think about it and I was grateful to him.  

He and I were the exact same age—twenty years old—and yet he’d always made me feel younger than him. It was one of the things I liked most about him actually. He made me feel protected and safe whenever I was with him because I knew no matter what my stupidity got us into, he would be there to get us out. Nothing could get to me, or hurt me, whenever he was around. He cared so much for me, he always had, and knowing that made it so easy to place my worries and responsibilities on him when they became too much for me. He shouldered the burden with a smile, always seeming to enjoy helping me muddle through my mess of a life. After what he’d said to me on Sunday though, I wondered for how much longer he’d be willing to smile through the strain. Cracks were starting to show through his rock solid façade and it made me think that asking him to carry yet another heavy load had finally been too much; the proverbial straw on the camel’s back.

I understood why he was hurting, but couldn’t he see that I wanted to be able to be open about our relationship too? Did he not realise that my wanting to keep things under wraps was just as much for his benefit as it was for mine? It really hurt that he’d reacted so negatively, because for the first time in my life I had actually thought something through. I’d taken the time to sit down and really think about how my decision would affect not only myself, but him and our friends as well. It was the most grownup thing I’d ever done, I’d been proud of myself for it and him telling me that it wasn’t what he wanted had shattered any semblance of adulthood I’d managed to fashion for myself. Surely he knew that? Right?

God, people could be so fucking  frustrating! Things like this made me want to go live in a cave and just jerk off alone for the rest of my life. I’d have nobody around to fuck with my head or screw with my emotions which would be a blessed relief at this point.


The door to Iason’s office automatically swung open when I approached it. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I hoped I’d be able to calm it down enough by the time I reached his desk that he wouldn’t be able to hear it thudding inside my rib cage, but given my track record so far, I highly doubted I’d succeed.

He was seated at his desk when I entered, just as he had been the last time I’d come. He looked up from his computer screen as I approached. There was a smile on his lips, but his eyes were cold; they pierced through me like frozen blue daggers. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to find my anger and outrage over what had happened on Sunday with Kirie. It was difficult with him staring me down and making me feel like a child though. I suppose, compared to him, I was a child. How old was he anyway? Just one of many questions I feared would go perpetually unanswered.

Iason leaned back in his chair a touch, his gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. “I received a rather interesting e-mail this morning.” The smile faded from his face.

I stopped when I reached the chairs in front of his desk and sat down in one of them. “What the hell does that have to do with me? I’ve got work to do you—“

“It has quite a lot to do with you, actually,” He interrupted, gesturing to the screen in a fluid motion that was all wrist. “Would you care to take a look at the photos?”

I froze. “What photos?”

He swiveled his screen around to show me.

It took my eyes a second to realize what I was seeing, but the realization hit me like a bag of rocks dropped from someplace high.

“That son of a bitch!”

Iason flashed a subtly amused smile at my outburst.

The pictures were of Kirie and me, taken last Sunday at Depravities. There were pictures of us drinking at the bar, pictures of him grinding on me on the dance floor and pictures of us getting into the cab together at the end of the night. I didn’t look too displeased with the attention he was showing me in most of the photos and I was furious with myself for having been stupid enough to trust him.

Iason got up from his desk and I flinched. I saw the barest glimmer of something resembling kindness in his expression, but it was gone as quickly as it’d arrived.

“Relax,” he remarked quietly, coming to sit in the chair next to me.

He looked at the photos again, hand on his chin as though he were admiring priceless works of art.

“You look particularly responsive in this one,” he teased, pointing at one of the racier pictures in which the back of Kirie’s body was pressed like a second skin against the front of mine, my hands on his hips. I was embarrassed and infuriated all at once. I was angry at Iason for showing me the pictures; angry at Kirie for being a deceptive, manipulative, piece of shit; angry at the photographer who’d taken the photos. That was the next thought to jump into my mind: Who had taken these pictures?

“Where…did you get these?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

Iason turned his head to me and gave me a patronizing stare. I couldn’t tell if he was angry at me or not. “I suppose it didn’t occur to you at the time,” he purported, “but Kirie is a fairly well known artist with quite a strong following. You were with him, intoxicated, in a public place. I’m sure through the process of deduction you can figure out what happened.”

He didn’t have to say what he was implying. I’d already figured it out and it made my heart sink. If these were paparazzi photos that meant they were for sale. Eventually someone would buy them and they’d make their way online, or into a magazine spread. If Guy saw these it would be over between us.

“I’m such an idiot,” I moaned, burying my face in my hands.

Iason moved around in front of me. I felt his hand come under my chin as he directed my face upward. He leered at me, but it was less harsh than I would have expected.

“These sorts of things happen to people in this business all the time. Think of it as a learning experience.”

“A fucking learning experience?!” I smacked his hand away angrily and stood to get away from him. “These pictures are going to end up somewhere public and Guy will think I cheated on him! Do you have any idea how serious this is?”

His gaze darkened. “You seem to be implying that you haven’t cheated on him,” Iason countered cynically.

Unsure whether he was referring to Kirie or himself, I glared at him with intense hatred burning in my eyes. “Not willingly, you manipulative son of a bitch.”

Iason narrowed his eyes at me smugly. “Perhaps you’re right, but the question is, will he believe that?”

I narrowed my eyes and turned away so that he wouldn’t see the glistening tears that were threatening to fall; tears of anger and frustration.

“None of this was my choice,” I spat bitterly, “and you fucking know it.”

“Tell yourself whatever you’d like, but it doesn’t change the fact that when last we were together, you were moaning with my fingers inside your—“

“Shut up!” I screamed angrily. “Just shut the fuck up!” I whirled back around to face him. “This is all your fault! He’ll never speak to me again if he finds out about this you bastard! It might not matter to you, but this is my life you’re fucking with! He’ll leave the band, he’ll break our contract and none of us will ever--”

My string of neurotic rambling was silenced abruptly as Iason rushed my mouth, sealing his lips over mine. At first I fought against him; hitting his chest and twisting to try and break away, but it was useless. He was too strong and my struggling just made his hold on my body tighten. I was so upset, but his mouth was so warm that it made my head spin. My mind was in free fall, thoughts whirling around me; the only thing that made the spinning stop was my grip on his clothes. Somewhere in the confusion and emotion, I started to kiss him back. I kissed him as though he was air and I was drowning, wrapping my arms around his neck. He fed at my mouth, his tongue probing and gliding through it as his hands kneaded at my flesh. Then, ever so gently, he loosened his hold on me; pulling away from my mouth with a quiet laugh.

“You’re shaking,” he smiled.

I leaned my head against his chest, embarrassed by his observation and my own weakness. I hadn’t meant to give in, but the temptation had been far too great.

He didn’t comment on it further, he just continued to hold me. Several quiet moments later he spoke. “Don’t worry about the photos.” His breath was warm against my neck and ear. I shivered, but clenched my hands into fists, trying to dig my short nails into my palms. The pain would keep me grounded, or at least that was the hope.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I purchased them from the photographer this morning.”

I pulled back, looking at him incredulously. “Why?”

“My reasons are my own.”

That answer didn’t satisfy me in the least. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”

“Because the truth would only upset you.”

I wriggled out of his grasp and he let me leave. “Try me,” I demanded.

He sighed and leaned back against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “Very well. If you absolutely must know, I purchased them for a close personal friend.” He must have seen the anxiety in my eyes because he quickly added, “Don’t worry about their security. He has just as much reason to keep the photos to himself as you or I.”

I looked at him curiously. “You don’t come across as the type to have close friends. Who is he? What the fuck does he want with pictures of me?”

“Ouch. That stings a little.”

I rolled my eyes at his mockery. “Whatever. You deserve it, acting like some ice king in a frozen palace all the time.”

Seduction filled his eyes as he stared into mine. “If I’m an ice king then what, pray-tell, does that make you?”

I shook my head and pointed at him. “This isn’t about me. Just answer the damn questions, blondie.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

He stood and quickly closed the gap between us. Hooking a finger under my day-collar, he bent low enough to hover his mouth over mine. “Because Masters don’t take orders from their pets.”

A shiver ran through me that shook me to my core.

“I’m not your fucking pet.” I spat the words defiantly, even as a trembling thread of doubt, hair-thin and fragile, began to weave its way slowly through my brain.

He stroked his hand down my body at a tantalizingly slow pace, one that sent sparks radiating outward through my flesh. He caressed my collarbone, my pectorals and nipples, my abdomen, and, at last, cupped his hand over my groin. I gasped quietly, almost inaudibly, but I knew he’d heard it because of the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Those smiling lips lowered, pressing against the curved shell of my ear. Through a searing puff of moist breath he rasped, “Oh yes you are.”

My knees felt weak. My heart raced. And oh, how I hated him. I hated him more than I’d ever hated anyone, but that didn’t stop me from wanting him.

I knew my receptiveness to him, however mired in anger it was, would not go unnoticed. He rubbed me through my pants unhurriedly, enjoying the small sounds he was wringing out of me.

“What’s this? No witty retort? No argument?”

He was baiting me. Even though I knew it, I forced all my malice and hatred of him into my eyes, shooting him a look so vicious that I actually got a look of genuine surprise in return.

“You’re such an angry little thing.”

“Fuck. You.”

All he did was laugh. It was malicious and cold, with only the barest touch of amusement flitting around its smooth, round, edges. He was enjoying this.

“Come,” he ordered, pulling me along by the collar. “I have something I want to show you.”

Chapter Text

The door to the room was concealed much the same way the entrance to Iason’s apartment was concealed. He pressed the spine of a false book on a shelf near the west wall of the office and the wall slid back beside it, revealing an opening. I stepped inside; partly out of curiosity, to find out what was hiding behind the wall of the hallway leading to Iason’s office, but partly because I was still afraid of what he’d do if I refused. He seemed to be in a good mood now, but that wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t snap later if I pissed him off. There was also a deeply buried curiosity leading me forward against my will, a curiosity which was tempted by the seductive promise in his voice; the promise of things to come. I ignored it the best I could, thinking about Guy and strengthening my resolve to resist Iason’s advances, but it was still there no matter how hard I tried. I’m not sure what that says about me as a person, I’m not sure I want to know.

I looked around the well lit room. The lights were warm and subdued, giving a reddish-orange glow to everything. It reminded me of the old Victorian era smoking rooms you see in period films, only this one had been brought into the twenty-first century. Lots of leather and fur and wood paneling mixed with richly polished metal.

Arranged in a circle, six high-backed club chairs seemed to be the focal point of the room. The chairs were widely spaced and set around an over-abundance of fur rugs overlapping one another. The chairs were a deep shade of venetian red and looked comfortable, despite the shine of newness gleaming off the domed upholstery nails. I walked further in and turned to see Iason closing the concealed door behind us. It was just as much invisible inside the room as it was outside. He looked at me from under the shadow of his brows and my heart started to beat a little faster.

I gestured vaguely to the room, shrugging off my nervousness. “This is what you wanted me to see?” I asked, skeptically. The way he’d professed his desire to show me something had been far more seductive in nature than this boring room seemed to warrant. Something didn’t add up.

Iason came toward me and put his hand out to stroke my hair from behind. I shivered at the soft touch, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of revulsion or anticipation.  He moved closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“You say that as though you’re disappointed,” he said softly into my ear.

“I just wasn’t expecting it to be so…“

“So…?” he purred quizzically into my ear.

I looked down nervously and fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. “So…normal.”

I could hear the amusement in his voice. “I see. And what would be more appropriate, in your opinion? Some kind of torture chamber perhaps?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. Just…you made it sound like you wanted to show me something…sexual.”

He shifted behind me and moved his hands lower until they were encircling my waist loosely. His hands moving down my body made my limbs tremble with the desire to push them away, but I dared not for fear of angering him.

“And what has you so convinced that it’s not?” he asked deeply.

I was taken aback by this. I turned my head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He turned my head back toward the room. “Look a bit harder.”

This made my pulse jump up into my throat, but I did as he asked. I scanned the room nervously, the way you scan those shocker images on the internet that look normal until they flash to some picture of a shark or demon child to scare the crap out of you. I was looking for something unusual, but I didn’t see anything strange. Nothing sexual. Just an elegantly styled room full of chairs.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

He laughed seductively and moved away from me.

“I suppose that’s my fault,” he offered in a satirical tone.  He moved to the wall near an elegantly framed picture of a horse and an equestrian and opened a small panel. “I forgot to press the button.” The tone of his voice was almost the same as the one you hear from women when they drop something in front of you on purpose so that they can bend down and show you their assets. Oops, silly me.

He smiled, but it was devious and playful and it told me he had been toying with me all along.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered softly, gloved finger poised over a small black button.

I rolled my eyes at him, but he gave me a coercive stare that said I was ruining his fun by objecting. I sighed reluctantly and did as he asked, covering my eyes with my hands like some five year old child. I waited a few seconds, not hearing much more than a few whirs and clicks and, eventually, soft foot falls as he returned to my side. His arms wrapped around me again and I felt him press his mouth to the nape of my neck sensually.

“Open them,” he breathed softly, lips trailing my skin.

I did as he asked, a tremble starting in my fingers as he kissed the back and sides of my neck lazily. It was distracting and unsettling in the most wonderful, horrible, way.

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was another hidden door on the rear wall of the room had slid open, revealing a room too dark to see into. I would have spent more time wondering where it went, but the circular platform that was now in the middle of the circle of chairs was fighting for my attention. It looked as though the floor had simply risen up about one and a half feet. The overlapping furs in the center of the circle hadn’t moved at all, but they were now draped over the platform, making it look like some giant round bed.

Heavy-duty metal rings had also risen, like the platform, from beneath concealing panels in the floor. Each chair in the circle now had its own ring, situated just behind the right front leg. 

“What the fuck do you do in here?” I demanded, my mouth hanging open in confusion. I couldn’t think of a reason for any of it, and my mind started to drift back to the hidden doorway and the mysterious blackness beyond it. It seemed so much more ominous to me now.

Iason laughed and brought me next to the platform.

“I’m the facilitator of a special sort of…club, I guess you could call it.”

“What kind of club needs hidden rooms and furry platforms and—“

He silenced me, his finger pressing against my mouth.

“All in good time, my pet,” He whispered, pressing me down by my shoulders until I was sitting on the edge of the platform. It was much softer than I had anticipated; softer than a few skin rugs could make it which meant there was something underneath them that was not flooring. My heart started to race again as he knelt with one knee between my legs, lowering himself down over my torso. My eyes flicked nervously to the right, to the mysterious doorway.

“What’s through there?” I asked, trying to distract him.

He paused his movement briefly and followed my eyes to the door.

“Something special. I’ll show you in a moment, but first...”

His mouth lowered to mine as his hand came to caress the side of my neck. He was looming over me, forcing me backward to the point that I had to put my arm out behind myself to keep from falling flat onto my back. His hands came to the rescue, wrapping around my shoulders, holding me up.

Soft lips kneaded mine gently, but firmly. I felt the warm, wet, flick of his tongue; it was seeking entrance like some serpent looking for a place to hide. His hand stroked down my collar bone all the way to my side, his thumb caressing my left nipple through my shirt. I let out a tiny sigh of pleasure and it was all the invitation he needed. His tongue slipped hot and slippery into my mouth, flicking slowly; probing deeply.

I suddenly found myself desperate for air; the breaths I was taking in and out rhythmically through my nose becoming deep and forceful. There wasn’t enough air in all of Tanagura to free my head from the dizzying spiral his mouth was driving it into.

Whether it was my breathing or something else, Iason slowly pulled his mouth away. My mouth strained to follow his for a split second, before I came to my senses and remembered the horrible things he had done to me. I froze, lips still parted, breaths still coming in long draughts as my lungs tried to catch up with the inner fire that was consuming all of the oxygen in my body. He didn’t say anything. He just studied me with his intensely blue eyes; his face an unreadable mask.

His staring was making me self-conscious, but when I tried to look away, he brought my face back towards his. Still, he said nothing.

I turned my face to the other side, ripping my chin out of his fingers. “Would you fuck off with that shit? Your creepy staring is weirding me out!” I winced immediately after the words left my mouth, afraid that I’d pissed him off.

But he wasn’t mad. His expression softened instantly and he looked away, appearing as close to embarrassed as I’d ever seen him. He removed my hands from around his neck next, which took me by surprise. I didn’t realize until after he moved them that I’d grabbed onto him during the kiss. I blushed, embarrassed now too by my own actions. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to get lost in another of his kisses. Alone in a secret room with a manipulative psycho and I don’t even have the sense to keep my mind from drifting off into la-la-land? Some set of survival instincts.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he spoke first.

“You are the most captivating creature I’ve ever known.”

I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness of his line, but the sincerity with which it had been delivered made me blush.

“And you’re the creepiest bastard I have ever known,” I mocked.

He ignored the comment entirely and pecked me on the lips before standing up.

“Hey, where are you going?”

He turned to offer me his hand, as though I were some damsel in distress in need of assistance to do something as simple as standing. What a patronizing asshole.

“I promised to show you what’s through the door, remember?”

I slapped his hand away and stood on my own, stepping past him boldly and moving toward the open doorway. “Yah yah I remember. I’m not an idiot.”

He laughed softly in a way that said he wasn’t so sure, and followed me.

I stopped just before I reached the opening, my confidence draining as I approached the unknown darkness looming beyond. I knew realistically that there couldn’t be anything too terrifying beyond the door because somebody would have had to have built this place for him and if it was anything illegal they’d have told someone. At least that was the hope I was clinging to with every fiber of my being.

Iason touched my arm briefly in a gesture of reassurance before he stepped through the doorway without me. A moment later lights flashed on and my anxiety lowered a little bit. Light was a good sign. It wasn’t bright light, but it was better than nothing.

“Come here, Riki,” Iason called from inside the room.

When I didn’t respond right away, he came back out and took my hand.

“That wasn’t a request,” He stated firmly as he took my hand.

That his mood could change so quickly made me incredibly nervous. I let him lead me into the next room without a fight to avoid upsetting him further. What I saw made me gasp in shock.

There were chains, and bars and leather contraptions scattered throughout the room. Some on platforms, some against walls or hanging from the ceiling. There was so much bizarre stuff I didn’t even have names for most of it. It wasn’t a torture chamber in the medieval sense, but it was the closest I had come to being in one.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered under my breath.

Iason, who had been watching my reaction with great interest, smiled peculiarly. “Impressed or frightened?”

“Fucking terrified.”

“And may I ask what is so frightening about a collection of art?”

Art? This shit is straight out of some bondage dungeon! This is a bondage dungeon!”

Iason just shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s your opinion I suppose, but I happen to find these pieces quite breathtaking.”

He took a step toward me and I took a step back. He took another and again I countered him, shuffling back. He’d blocked the entrance when we came in and he was using my desire to be far away from him to herd me further into the room. I didn’t know whether to stand and find out what he was going to do, or move further in amongst the hanging, glistening bondage devices.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Riki,” he comforted, putting a hand out to me. I backed further away and nearly tripped when I backed into something cool and metallic. I whipped around and caught my balance on it to keep from falling, gasping when I realized what it was:  a steel bar cage, big enough to hold a fairly large dog. Or a person on all fours, my mind whispered faintly. The thought made my stomach flip flop in place.

“So is this what your fucking club is all about?” I spat bitterly, slamming my fist onto the top of the cage. The bars rattled loudly and I jumped. I was terrified and physically trembling.  Getting angry helped ease the fear so I ran with it. “Do you get together with a bunch of people and use all this weird fucking sex shit on each other? Is that what you do?” I whipped around to face him, glaring at him with moisture rimming my bottom lashes. I tried to keep him from seeing the fear in my eyes, but the look on his face told me it was no use.

I wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn’t, not in front of him. I gritted my teeth as my blood pounded in my ears. I was so fucking afraid. Afraid he was going to put me in that cage, or tie me up from the ceiling. Afraid because I knew he’d make me enjoy it. One way or another he would have his way with my body and my mind and if this was the type of stuff he was into I didn’t think I’d have a choice.

“Riki there’s really no need to get so worked up over this. I didn’t bring you in here to—”

I couldn’t take him inching closer to me for another goddam second.

Fuck you, Iason!” I shouted angrily, the tears in my eyes starting to fall.

I broke into a sprint and pushed past him with every ounce of strength in my body. I ran straight out of the hidden room and made a beeline for the hidden door leading out of the smoking room. I slammed into the door, tears blurring my vison as I searched for the edge of the door, for a button, for any way to get it to open. It wouldn’t budge. In my anger I punched the wall with my fist. I heard my knuckles pop and instantly felt the pain of the collision reel up my hand and radiate like burning shockwave into my arm. I screamed in pain, in frustration, in fear. I screamed just to scream.

Iason made it to me only seconds afterward. I saw him saying something placating to calm me down, but I couldn’t even make out the words on his lips, let alone hear them. In a blind rage I started tearing my way through the room. Smashing vases, tipping over chairs, kicking over tables and ripping down paintings. I took out my frustration and pent-up anger over what had been done to me on the room itself.

Who the fuck was he to rape me and then take me to use as his personal play thing? Who the fuck did he think he was? I tried to rip the metal collar he’d given me off my neck, but I couldn’t seem to move my arms. I struggled to lift them, but they remained at my sides, as though they weighed a thousand pounds each. Lifted off the ground, I kicked and struggled and it was only after I felt the softness of the platform coming up under my knees that I realized Iason had wrapped his arms tightly around me, pinning my arms to my sides as he lifted me up.

“Let me GO!” I cried, struggling hard as tears streamed down my face. “Put me DOWN! FUCKING ASSHOLE! I FUCKING HATE YOU! Piece of fucking…shit…goddamn asshole…cocksucker…fuck…” My insults stopped being insults near the end and just joined into one garbled mess, lost in my body-wracking sobs.

“Shh, Riki…”

I felt him lay both of us down on the bed-like platform. His body curled around mine, spooning me from behind; his arms still wrapped securely around my chest.

I didn’t even care that he was holding me at that point. I just continued to sob into the soft, dark, fur pressing against my face. I cried all the tears that I’d wanted to cry since the first time he’d used me; I cried about my inability to resist Iason even though I knew he was a toxic piece of shit; I cried for Guy, the man I loved and had chased away, because I was being forced to be unfaithful to him; and I cried because that was only half true. Deep down, buried beneath the posturing and the trauma and all of the other things that made up who I was, there was a sliver of me that wanted Iason more than I’d ever wanted anyone. I cried for that part of me most of all.

Tears fell from my eyes until they were sore and red and I could produce no more of them. Still, I cried on; harsh, dry, sobs until I was welcomed into the warm, comforting, darkness of an exhausted sleep.


I was woken up some time later by the aching pain in my body. Blearily I opened my swollen eyes and groaned in discomfort. My legs ached, my hands were throbbing, my chest and shoulders and throat burned like they’d been scorched from the inside out. Even my lungs were in agony.

“You’re awake.”

It was Iason.

I groaned again, this time from the donning realization that I was as good as dead if he was still here. I could only remember snippets of what had happened before I passed out, but from the state of the room and the pain in my body, I knew I must have trashed the whole place. Grimacing in terror I shut my eyes, certain he was going to kill me for real this time.

His hand came down onto my head gently and I flinched violently. I’d been expecting some kind of death blow, but instead, he started to stroke my hair. It was like being charged by a lion, only to have him lick and rub against you the moment you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see his teeth sinking into you.

The comforting touch felt so nice, even coming from Iason. Memories of my mother doing the same thing for me before she died came flooding back. Her sitting beside me on the bed, playing with my hair gently and dabbing my forehead with a cool cloth as I dozed in and out of consciousness. I caught pneumonia at a very young age, just before she died. While I don’t remember much else about her, or about my childhood, I can still remember her sitting with me, nursing me. It was clear as day.

“Do you feel a bit better now that you’ve let off some steam?”

I winced at the comment. “I…broke some things in here…didn’t I?”

He made an affirmative noise in his throat and I could feel him nod his head. I drew myself inward fearfully, even though it hurt my arms to do so.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” I stammered, afraid to roll over and look at him.

He continued to soothe me, rubbing my back in slow circles.

“Nothing,” He sighed with finality.

I cocked an eyebrow at this. “Nothing? But…why?”

He was quiet for some time. I focused on his breathing and the steady beating of his heart to keep myself calm.

“I overloaded you with information today,” he began softly. “I didn’t notice that you were becoming stressed. I should have ended our conversation after the incident with the photos this morning, but I didn’t.” His hand moved back to my hair. He toyed with it idly, sending warm prickles down my spine. “Your actions here today were the direct result of my failings as a master and I cannot punish you for my misdeeds.”

I lay still and quiet, taking in what he’d just said. It irked me that he’d called himself my master again, but the fact that he was taking responsibility for what I had done to the room overshadowed any discomfort I felt from his use of his stupid, self-appointed, moniker.

“I’m, uh…sorry I broke your stuff…” I murmured awkwardly. He didn’t exactly deserve an apology after all the things he’d already done to me, but he was being nice and I did feel kind of bad about it.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I can have all of it replaced easily enough.”

Somehow his answer only made me feel worse and my conscience wasn’t through making me feel guilty it seemed.

“…and sorry for the...uh…the stuff I screamed at you...”

Iason’s response was to move me gently over onto my back. I winced because my shoulders and arms hurt like hell.

Propped up on one elbow, he put his other hand lightly on my chest and leaned over me. His eyes focused on mine, but they were soft around the edges and I knew now that he had truly meant what he said; that he really wasn’t mad at me.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’ve been called much worse by people far more intimidating than you, Riki.”

That actually hurt my ego a little.

“Well sorry for apologizing then,” I snapped sarcastically.

He smiled at me, staring into my eyes as he idly moved his fingers over my chest in a pattern of tiny swirls.

I glared at him grumpily. “What?”

“Nothing at all,” he answered, a laugh he was withholding tinting his words.

“Just fucking tell me!” I demanded in frustration. “Your staring is so fucking creepy! Honestly I can’t stand it when you—“

He kissed my mouth to quiet me. It seemed to be a running theme with him, though I couldn’t really argue against its effectiveness.

“A tiny furrow forms between your brows when you’re upset. Adorable.” He pressed his lips to mine again before I could protest being called ‘adorable’.

Despite having just lost my temper with him to the point of trashing a room, Iason was still able to kiss me senseless.

“Fuck,” I sighed breathily when he finally pulled away. It was a protest of him leaving my mouth, it was an expression of my internal conflict and it was a comment on his skill all wrapped into one word. Fuck could be such a versatile expression. And smart people say cursing is a sign of a weak vocabulary. Ha.

Iason reached under my shirt to slowly circle my nipples with his fingertips. I realized that we were touching skin on skin and I shivered. He must have taken his gloves off when I was passed out for some reason.

“You took off your gloves?”  I made it a question, to show him that I’d noticed them for a while now.

“Yes,” He nodded, “I did.”

“Why do you wear those all the time anyway? You some kind of germaphobe?”

He looked down for a moment, hiding his expression and I realized I might have insulted him.

“I’d rather not discuss it with you right now.” His voice was calm, but decorated with regret and pain.

I didn’t press him for details, just shrugged my shoulders. “Whatever, no big deal. Just curious.”

“And I love that about you.”

“What? That I’m curious?”

“Yes,” He said.


“Because you don’t realize how rare a trait it is to be so curious. So many of us lose that wonderment when we reach adulthood; that inner yearning to have all of our questions answered. You have managed to retain it and it gives you a youthful quality that is attractive to me in ways that are difficult to put into words.”

I hadn’t been expecting such a well thought-out speech, especially from a guy who was playing with my nipples under my shirt.

“Oh…” I replied lamely. “Uh, thanks? I guess?”

He laughed openly at this, a rich, deep, laugh that sent tingles shooting down to my lowest and most sensitive areas.

“You are most welcome. Now…”

He rose onto his knees, scooping me up in his arms.

“Agh! Fuck, watch the arms, He-Man!”

He chuckled and I was sure it was because he was old enough to have seen the show I was referencing in my insulting nickname.

“Apologies, pet.”

I rolled my eyes as he laid me gently in the middle of the platform bed.

“Why did you—“

“I needed more room to work.”

Room to work? My lips parted and my heart started to beat faster in my chest.

“What are you going to do?”

He glanced sideways at me and smiled knowingly.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

His hands moved to my belt and quickly undid it, tossing it off the side of the bed. The rest of my clothes soon followed after a bit of protest from my muscles and bruised fists.

When he grasped my legs with his hands and pressed them back against my chest I started to panic again, fighting his hands to put my legs back down.

“No! Don’t, I—“

“I’m not going to do anything you won’t thoroughly enjoy. I promise.”

I quieted, but bit my lip in nervous anticipation.

Slowly, he pressed my legs back and out once more, spreading them apart. He lowered his body so that the entire great length of him was stretched out across the bed. God he was tall. I could see now why he’d moved me. With gentle touches he caressed the hardening length of my cock, all the while looking me in the eyes with a small smile curving the corner of his mouth.

I gasped as his tongue came out to lick a long white line up my shaft. His blue eyes stayed focused on mine. The smile was gone now, replaced by a look of sheer determination and control. My body quivered and I looked away, insecurely.

“Look at me,” He commanded firmly from between my thighs. I could feel his words against my erection as he spoke. The warmth of his breath, the vibration of his voice. I grimaced at the order and flicked my eyes back to him for a moment. His gaze was intense as he stared up the long line of my body to meet my eyes.

I looked away again and his hand came lightning fast to strike the side of my thigh. I gasped and cried out almost simultaneously, more from surprise than from pain.

Do not make me repeat myself.” His words were menacing and held a sharp edge of promise. I knew if I disobeyed him again I’d be punished. I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I knew it wouldn't be something I'd enjoy. He’d make sure of that.

With great effort I turned my head back and locked eyes with him. He smiled at me once more and returned his mouth to my twitching hardness.

His mouth enveloped me and it felt like heaven. I had to fight the urge to close my eyes as my mouth dropped open. His fingers massaged my testicles gently, but firmly as his head bobbed slowly up and down, making me gasp.

The warmth of his tongue padding along the underside of my shaft on the way down and licking over the head of me when he reached the apex of his movements made my hips buck and jerk. His hands came up to hold my hips down onto the bed. I was still trembling, still moving, but the strength in his hands kept the lower half of me still.

Faster…!” I cried quietly, pleading with my eyes for him to comply. I wanted so badly to fuck his mouth as hard as I could, but still he kept that teasingly slow pace.

Reaching down I pressed my aching hands against his head. I wanted to hold onto his hair, but it was tied back in a thick ponytail, as it always was.

He sucked me deeper into his mouth, his cheeks curving inward from the suction and my fingers clung to his hair.


One long-fingered hand came up and pulled the leather tie loose that was holding his hair back. It spilled down his neck, his shoulders, his back, in a washing cascade of blonde. I moaned as I ran my fingers through the heavy thickness of it, lost in rapt fascination.

And then I felt it. The slow trembling buildup of pleasure between my thighs.

I was panting and straining to buck my hips into his mouth. His hands held me down and his eyes never wavered from mine. I begged him with my eyes, pleaded with my mouth and as I begged my words turned to cries of pleasure as his slow movements brought me to my peak. His hands let go of my hips and I bucked against his mouth as I came, hands buried tightly in his hair.

Fuuuck!”  I moaned lasciviously. I was almost in pain the release was so intense.

My pain was gone. My thoughts were gone. All I could focus on was the golden mass of blonde between my thighs and the rhythmic pulses of pleasure shooting through my body in warm, comforting, waves.

Chapter Text

My phone started vibrating in my pocket just as I was leaving Iason's office. I looked at the screen and felt a wash of guilt spread over me:

Where are you?


It was the first communication I'd had with him since we'd fought in the restaurant on Sunday night. I knew he was worried about me because he rarely sent me text messages but to be honest, I was still glad to hear from him. I glanced at the time on my screen and realized why he was worried. It was already past noon. I rubbed my face and sighed, trying in vain to alleviate some of the stress that was building up in my body. I could feel a headache starting to form near the base of my skull and I growled under my breath irritably. I didn't want to keep doing this. I shouldn't have to keep doing this. Thoughts of Iason's hands and mouth on my body flashed through my mind and I shook my head in aggravation, not wanting to think about any of it. Guy was worried about me and I had to deal with that first. I sent him a quick text back letting him know I was on my way to the studio. I didn't specify from where, and I was hoping he wouldn't ask. 


Guy looked relieved to see me when I walked into the room, but when I gave a small smile in return he looked away, his face blank. The smile on my face quickly faded. Was he really still mad at me? I skirted Guy’s chair and sat down at the long table beside Luke, who immediately nudged me in the ribs.

“Late night, Riki?” he teased, smiling suggestively as he made awkwardly angled hip thrusts in his chair. He looked like a complete moron, but I knew he was just trying to be funny.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders noncommittally as I grabbed a slice of pizza from one of the boxes in the center of the table. I didn’t want to confirm nor deny his accusations because I really didn’t want to piss Guy off further. If he even was still mad at me. I honestly couldn’t tell. He’d smiled so warmly at me when I walked in and then went right back to ignoring me two seconds later. I had no idea what to make of that.

Luke whooped and cackled at my gesture and Norris joined in soon after, clearly taking the shrug as a quiet confirmation of the allegation. I’d never really had a steady girlfriend, and Luke, who was always mired in a slew of girls, took particular pleasure in razzing me about my lack of female companionship. Norris tended to follow suit and though I loved them like brothers I was thankful they were both dumb as posts. If they were any smarter, they might have picked up on the sexual tension between Guy and I, and I was honestly glad that hadn’t happened. It would have made this whole situation even more awkward than it already was.

I shrugged again and took a bite of my pizza. It wasn’t great, but I hadn’t eaten anything yet that day and when you’re hungry, food is food. Luke just laughed even harder, smacking the table.

“It’s always about girls with you isn’t it?” Guy commented curtly, his gaze focused off to the side as though he were lost in thought.

“You’re just jealous because he’s got three and you’ve got zero,” Norris piped up playfully, holding his hand up in an ‘O’ and winking at Guy.

I almost choked on my pizza. “How the hell did an ugly son of a bitch like you manage to get three separate girls to go for you at once?”  I asked, laughing to try and keep things normal so they would get off Guy’s back. I knew him well enough to know he was not enjoying the turn of the conversation.

Luke took the bait like the lovable, predictable, idiot he is. He put his hands behind his head, confidently leaned back in his chair and grinned from ear to ear.

“I’ve got charisma,” he said, wiggling his brows up and down.

Norris looked at him like he was some sort of god. I rolled my eyes and snorted in disbelief.

Without warning, Guy stood up angrily and marched out of the room, hands shoved in his pockets.

Norris and Luke looked at each other, then at me and then back at the doorway Guy had just stormed out of. They looked completely dumbfounded.

“What’s up his ass?” Luke asked, seeming a little crestfallen as he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. Luke was the kind of guy who needed to be liked by everyone, and I could tell from the look on his face that he felt Guy leaving was his fault. I patted him supportivley on the shoulder. 

“I dunno,” I lied. I knew exactly what was wrong, or at least, I had a pretty good guess. “I’ll go talk to him.” I left my pizza on the table and rushed out the door.


“Hey!” I called. “Guy, wait up!” I was jogging after him, but he ignored me and kept walking, his pace brisk. His long legs carried him further with each stride than I was able to compensate for with my own and I ended up running to catch him. I grabbed his shirt sleeve and he stopped, turning to face me. His eyes were a flecked-grey melange of dejection and anger.

"Look I don’t care what’s going on between us, but you can’t do stuff like that to them. You know Luke’s sensitive about shit like this, what the hell’s the matter with you?” I demanded, trying to sound angry with him, even though all I really wanted to do was wrap my arms around him.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Riki.”

I scowled at him, feeling my previous confusion and anger welling up inside me, trampling my compassion. “The hell you don’t!”  I spat angrily. “Guy, you haven’t said a word to me since last weekend. You just left me standing there even though I begged you not to go. You sent me that text, but when I got in and smiled at you today you fucking ignored me, so please, tell me again that you don’t owe me some kind of explanation!”

He scoffed under his breath and looked down before returning his eyes to me.

“You want to have it out? Right here, in the bloody hallway? Where people might see?”

The last bit came out so venomously that it made me a little afraid he might hit me, even though I knew he never would. He laughed a little, but his eyes were cold. “That’s rich, coming from someone who won’t even hold my hand in public.” He pointed at me angrily. “You’re a fucking hypocrite, Riki, and I don’t need this shit.”

I winced, his words stinging like vinegar poured over a thousand paper cuts. Each syllable that passed his lips drew a burning line of pain across my heart. Guy turned to walk away again, but I reached out to take hold of his arm. He stopped moving, but didn’t jerk it away.

“Let go of me, Riki.” He kept his body stiff, his shoulders drawn forward.  He seemed to be fighting the urge to turn and look at me.

“No,” I declared sharply. “We need to talk about this. I can’t let you walk away from me. Not again.” The tail end of my speech was tremulous and hushed.

I watched the muscles in his neck and shoulders first stiffen, then relax.

“Fine,” he sighed exasperatedly. His words were tinged with frustration. “Not out here though.”

“Katze is out with the marketing team today,” I offered hesitantly. “We could talk in his office?” I didn’t want to air our dirty laundry in the middle of the hallway any more than he did. That wasn’t courteous behavior for any couple, gay or straight. I really hoped he wouldn’t take my suggestion as further evidence that I wanted to keep our relationship a secret and held my breath waiting for his response.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head in agreement and walked past me, toward the elevator. I followed in anxious silence.


Katze’s office never failed to surprise me, even though I’d been in it many times. It was far more colorful and…floral…than I ever would have imagined. Based on the man’s no-nonsense personality I thought I’d come into the wrong office the first time I’d been invited in. It honestly looked like it belonged to a woman, or, maybe an overly flamboyant homosexual. Katze didn’t seem gay, and he certainly wasn’t a woman either so the color scheme and decorations were an utter mystery. That wasn’t to say that straight men couldn’t like bright colors, or flowers, it was just a bit odd. I would have pegged him as more of a greys-and-blacks, clean-lines, no-frills, kind of guy. But hey, it takes all kinds of people, right?

I followed Guy into the office, shut the door, and sat down on the green paisley sofa along the wall. There were tasteful green-and-brown checkered throw pillows on the couch and decorative floral arrangements on almost every table, including the red oak desk. Kitschy white ceramic knick-knacks peppered the shelves of his bookcase and his desk was covered in photo frames. I couldn’t see the photos since they were turned to face the person sitting behind the desk, not in front of it, but given the décor of the room I would have put solid money on photos of cats. I shook my head in amused bewilderment. Katze was an enigma, of that much I was certain.

Guy turned to face me, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. His brow was set heavily, making him look very tired and worn.

“So…do you want to start?” I asked cautiously. “Or should I?”

He took a breath in and looked at the floor. “Riki, I…” He seemed at a loss for words. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

My heart started to beat in alarm. “You don’t think you can do what?”

“I don’t think I can…date you. Not like this.”

I looked at my hands then back at him, sighing. “Is it really that bad being with another guy?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before running a hand over his head. He pushed a few stray strands that had gotten loose from his ponytail behind his ear. “Riki, that’s not it. It’s not you. It’s keeping this a secret from everyone. I love you so much and this—“

He froze, stopping mid-sentence to glance nervously at me. He’d never told me he loved me before today. I didn’t know what to do, or say.

“Wow…” It was lame, but that was all that wanted to come out of my mouth.

He put a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. Now’s not the right time for that. I don’t know where that came from I—”

“Idiot,” I interrupted, softly grinning at him. “I love you too.”

He glanced back at me then, a stricken look on his face. “You do?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I murmured sincerely, “I do. I’ve loved you here—” I put my hand over my heart, “—my entire life. It just…took the rest of me a little bit longer to figure it out.”

He smiled at me, his expression loving and a tad sheepish. “Me too,” he admitted warmly.

I got up off the sofa, arms extending outward to meet him. He came to meet me and pulled me against his chest. I could hear his heart beating with a dull rhythm in his chest. I smiled and hugged him close to me.

Neither he nor I spoke for a long time. The silence and our embrace were a therapeutic combination. The pause was broken when I felt him shudder. I looked up and saw the wetness on his cheeks, even though he tried to hide it from me with his arm.

“What’s wrong?” I asked earnestly, my brows pulled into an expression of sincere concern.

He moved away from me and took the place I had previously been occupying on the sofa.

“Riki, I can’t keep doing this. It just hurts too much.”

I sat beside him and put my arm around his back, leaning close to him. I knew what he was referring to, but I was ashamed that my desire to keep things quiet was causing him so much pain and I guess in some way I was trying to delay the inevitable.

“What hurts?”

He looked at me sorrowfully and then back at his hands. “All this secret bullshit.”

I glanced away uncomfortably and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“You mean the whole ‘closet’ thing?” I hedged nervously.

He looked up then, eyes flashing. “Yes!” he cried in exasperation. “Riki I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder before I touch you, or hold back a kiss because we’re in public. I don’t want to pretend to be your friend, I want to be your lover and have you be as proud of that as I am.”

He wrung his hands and looked into my eyes with a look so pained that I felt the lump rise further in my throat. Tears started to line the bottoms of my lower lids, threatening to fall.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” He was really crying now, his shoulders shaking. “I just want to be able to love you and show you that I care without thinking about it.”

He wiped his eyes with the back of one hand as I took the other in mine. He looked at me again, clinging to my hand tightly and pleading at me with his eyes. “Is that really so much to ask?”

Trails of wetness were falling down my own cheeks as well. I loved Guy and this was clearly tearing him up inside. I knew it was beyond unfair of me to ask him to keep doing this, knowing that it was hurting him and I was afraid of losing him, but I was also afraid of losing my chance at true fame. After my mom died I was a hollow shell of a kid. I probably should have seen someone about it, but my dad worked to support us and didn’t know any better. He was a simple man who didn’t even finish high school, what did he know about psychological help? I grew up on those buried feelings; I lived an empty, meaningless life. I’d just sort of floated by with no true ambition. Until I let myself get roped into doing some vocal work for my friends’ band and truly fell in love with performing I thought I’d never find a true calling in life. After our first live gig I was hooked. Nothing else brought me out of the strange mist that hung over my life except singing and for the first time ever, actually cared about something. I knew then that this was the only thing I wanted to do, it was my soul drive in life; To make it, and spend the rest of my life living up on the stage, above the mist and the fog in a world of clarity and passion. The only thing that meant as much to me as that dream now, was Guy.

“Guy you know how important you are to me. I love you so much and I want to be with you, but…”

I just couldn’t bring myself to say it and looked away, ashamed.

He straightened his back and drew a quick breath in through his nose, steeling his composure.

“But you can’t be with me the way I want you to be, can you?” He gave me a look of disgust, like I was some mangy dead dog on the side of the road.

I was fighting the urge to cry out in frustration. “Guy, please don’t look at me that way. I don’t want to keep it a secret forever, just…just until—”

“Until what Riki? Until you’ve made it further than you’ve already come? Until you’ve got legions of fans to worry about and advertising deals to think about too? How much longer do you expect me to hide? A month, 6 months? A year?”

He pulled his hand away from mine and crossed his arms over his chest again, setting his body back at an angle to lean further from me. I held my own hand, wanting to hold something and having nothing else. I knew he was right and I was shaking because for once in my life I didn’t know what to do. I’d never wanted two things as much as I wanted my career and Guy and now I was being forced to choose between them.

“I…hadn’t thought about it like that.” I whispered, flinching when he stood up abruptly.

“That’s always been your problem! You jump into things without thinking about the consequences. I should never have kissed you. I should have just gotten off you when you told me to and gone home. But I didn’t. I let my rational side go for once and look where it got me.”

I flashed an irritated glare up at him. My eyes were still red from crying. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You picked fights with guys twice your size when we were growing up. I had to come bail you out every time. Remember that? Got my nose broke for you more than once, but did I say anything? No. Because I loved you like a brother, and I knew you had trouble keeping your emotions in check.” He shifted his weight from his left leg to his right and rolled his shoulders.

“Honestly? It was what I loved about you. You were spontaneous when I couldn’t be and I liked that. I can see now though that you take that carefree attitude into relationships too and I can’t believe I let myself think that you’d change. That you’d put something else in front of your own selfish desires for once.”

Anger was boiling up inside me, pushing through the hurt and pain and blocking everything out with swirling black smoke. I stood up and got right in his face.

“You think you’re so fucking perfect, Guy? Because you’re so level headed, you think I don’t put thought into anything? Well fuck you! I did put thought into this. I thought more about this than anything ever in my life. I don’t want our relationship to be public because I don’t want to fuck up our chance at making it big. Not just my chance, but yours, Norris’ and Luke’s too. They’d all be affected if us coming out as a couple goes south. There’s too much at stake to risk that happening!”

Guy stood silent, his face turned away.

I turned my back on him and took a step toward the door.

“I thought you’d be proud of me for thinking something important through for once, but I guess I was wrong.”

Guy grabbed my shoulder and turned me around again. “Riki I am proud of you for that. I can tell when you’ve put your heart into something and I know why you’re doing this. I just don’t understand why you can’t see that it’s pointless. People are going to find out about us even if you want to keep it a secret. Why suffer only to have it announced against our wishes in some magazine? All it takes is a photographer in the right place at the right time. Wouldn’t you rather be up front with people and tell them on our own terms?”

It was the same thing Kirie had said to me in the bar, that it only gets worse as far as the media is concerned. That they find out eventually. Maybe Guy was right. Maybe it was stupid to think that keeping it a secret would actually work. I groaned in frustration and that groan escalated into an indistinct yell as all my anger came to a head.

“I don’t know! I just don’t fucking know!” I smacked a photo frame off of Katze’s desk impulsively and it smashed against the bookcase. I immediately regretted it. “FUCK!” I pressed my face into my hands and felt the sting of hot tears in my eyes.

Guy’s arms were around me almost before the sound of breaking glass was out of my ears and I let him hold me as I cried.

“It’s okay, Riki." He crooned softly as he swayed us gently from side to side.

“It’s all going to be okay," he assured. "Just breathe. That’s it. We’ll figure this other shit out later. Shh…”

I wrapped my arms around him and clung fiercely as I cried hard into his chest. I was pushing him away to do the right thing, when all that was going to get me was unhappiness? I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to understand. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing except his warm body pressing into mine. I needed the warmth of his body in bed with me at night; his beating heart pressed against my cheek as I fell asleep. I knew I wanted to be with him, I knew that he wanted to be with me. In a moment of clarity I understood what had to be done. Contract or not, I couldn’t live without him. If that meant telling everyone then so be it. We would tell the whole world if that was what it took.

Chapter Text

“…their album “Heat”, now available on iTunes! Well folks that wraps up our show tonight so from everyone here at Studio CJX thank you and we’ll see you right here tomorrow night with Tanagura’s leading entertainment news! Goodnight!”

The studio audience was clapping and cheering for the exuberant host as I flipped off the television. I’d been recording all of Bison’s talk and entertainment show interviews with my newly acquired DVR for the past month and had finally gotten the chance to sit down and watch them. During the media blitz surrounding our album drop I’d been so exhausted that I hadn’t had the time or the energy to do so. Even now, after finishing the last interview slot on Tanagura Tonight, I still couldn’t believe it had actually happened. I’d spent so much time worrying and hoping that things would go well that when they actually had I was in shock. I stared blankly at the dark TV screen in stunned disbelief, my mind struggling to recover.  

Guy snored and grunted loudly as he unconsciously adjusted himself in his sleep and it brought me out of my daze. The big baby had fallen asleep on my shoulder nearly an hour ago and I hadn’t had the heart to wake him up. I knew he was tired. We all were. I sighed with quiet satisfaction as I ran my fingers through his loose chestnut-colored hair.

It had been a long month since Katze had walked into his office and found the two of us huddled there together, barely keeping our shit together. He’d forgiven me for breaking the photo of his cat, Angus, and had actually been very supportive after hearing about our problem. He even encouraged us to be up front in our debut about our relationship, if we wanted to be. As it turned out, Katze was also in a relationship with another man. It had blown my mind, but after he’d said it, a few key things he’d done and said over the past year started to make more sense as my mind connected them with the newly acquired information. He hadn’t mentioned who he was dating, but I hadn’t pried. It didn’t really matter so long as he was happy. He had the luxury of not being in the public eye and could decide which parts of his life he wanted to keep to himself and which he didn’t. I’d been envious of him at first, but after the smooth way everything had unfolded for us during the blitz, I no longer felt that way.

Guy and I hadn’t said anything concrete about our relationship in our interviews, but that was only because no one had asked. Frankly, I was a bit surprised; we’d sat next to each other through all the interviews, and Guy had held my hand and put his arm around my shoulder quite a few times. None of it had garnered as much attention as I’d initially been worried it would and I was glad. If the interviewers had asked about us in that regard, we had agreed beforehand to be honest and tell them. It just hadn’t come up. It was a relief.

The whole process had been very cathartic for me in fact. Just knowing that we were both open to the question and in agreement about how each other would answer was very freeing—for both Guy and myself. I hadn’t really been happy keeping things quiet and he certainly hadn’t been either. Having things out in the open with the people who mattered—Katze, Luke, Norris and the rest of the crew at JR, had really improved our relationship.

Luke and Norris had been a bit gobsmacked by the news of our relationship at first, but after a few awkward days they’d reverted back to their usual selves. The only real change was that all of their typical teasing banter towards us as individuals had turned into teasing us good naturedly as a couple, and that was just fine by me. It felt normal. In fact, everything felt normal now that things had finally settled down. The only thing that was weighing on my mind in any capacity of late was Iason.

I’d been so busy with Bison’s media tour that the only time I’d seen him was in direct relation to work, and even that contact had been limited. He hadn’t summoned me to his office privately or requested to see me outside of work. Nothing. I’ll admit it was a relief not to have to deal with him at first, but now I was starting to dread seeing him again because I had a feeling he was angry with me. I’m not even sure why, considering the fact that we’d ended our last private encounter on good terms. He hadn’t been any warmer or colder to me than usual when we’d had to interact at work either. Nothing he’d said or done indicated that he was upset with me, but even devoid of evidence, I still couldn’t shake the feeling.

I sighed and rubbed my free hand over my face. My overactive imagination was really getting the best of me. I mean, what if he was secretly pissed about me fucking up his private meeting room after all? I know he said he wasn’t mad, that it had somehow been his fault, but he was also fucking psychotic. Or maybe he wasn’t mad and I was the crazy one? Maybe he just knew I was busy and had decided to be a decent human being for once and leave me the hell alone. I honestly had no idea and the anxiety over it was eating at me whenever I had a spare moment to think. Until recently those moments had been few and far between, but now they were occurring with frightening regularity and my nerves were taking a beating.

I suppose I could just send him a text message and confront him about it? Perhaps that would ease my mind? I didn’t know for sure, but it was worth a shot. I grabbed my cell off the end table to my right and swiped my thumb across the screen to unlock it. My blood chilled and I blinked in disbelief several times when I saw I already had a text message waiting for me. A text message from Iason.

Come for a drink. I’ve sent a car for you.


I looked at the timestamp on the text message and saw that it had come in twenty minutes before. My phone was obviously still on silent from the movie Guy and I had gone to see earlier that night, because I hadn’t heard it go off.

My brows drew together anxiously and I looked at Guy. I didn’t want to wake him up, but I also didn’t want to piss Iason off by ignoring his text either. I had to go. There was no way around it.

I knew Guy was a sound sleeper so, slowly, I began to get up. Leaning him against my side I lowered him horizontally down onto the couch. Fuck, he was heavier than he looked! I held my breath and waited as he began to adjust himself to the new position. He made a few strange, gruff, sounds and sighed softly before resuming his slow, deep, breathing. He hadn’t woken up. I was in the clear. I smiled and covered him up with the blanket from the back of the couch and he curled into it unconsciously. I placed a kiss on his forehead and gently stroked his hair. I felt guilty for what I was going to do, but it was for a good reason. Iason Mink held our recording contract in the palm of his hand and if I upset him who knew what he’d do with it. I wasn’t willing to risk the futures of everyone involved to take a stand against him. It wasn’t worth it.

“I’m doing this for us,” I whispered softly to Guy. He didn’t move, though I hadn’t been expecting him too. With determination filling me I turned on my heel and went into the bedroom to change into a dressier outfit; one with holes that had been put there on purpose, not by accident.


The black town car Iason had so confidently sent to pick me up at my apartment took me out of Midas and into downtown Tanagura. The flashing colored lights of the pleasure city winked out slowly and faded away behind us as the widely spaced, elegantly illuminated, boulevards and neatly formed modernist lines of the downtown core rose up around the vehicle. Even with tinted windows it was easy to tell where we were from the size of the buildings alone. The JR building was only two blocks east of us, though it didn’t appear we were heading there. Instead, the driver turned west and into the upscale shopping district of Eos. High end fashion boutiques, jewelry stores and upscale restaurants lined both sides of the boulevard. It was a very classy area, one I had no trouble picturing Iason spending his time in.

The car drove halfway down the first block and pulled to a stop in front of the Eos Tower Hotel. The driver came around straight away to open the rear passenger-side door for me, just as he had when he’d picked me up. I was unused to such posh treatment and smiled at him appreciatively, if not somewhat awkwardly.

“Thanks man,” I said as I got out.

He closed the heavy door behind me and nodded. “Of course, Sir.”

I felt a little uncomfortable standing there, unsure of the proper protocol when dealing with chauffeurs. Did I tip him? Or what was the deal?

I patted my leather jacket to show him that I was looking for my wallet and, thankfully, he saved me any further anxiety over the issue by waving his hand.

“No gratuity is necessary, Sir. I’m on the JR payroll.”

I sighed with relief. “Oh, alright then. Well, thanks for the ride anyway. Nice and smooth.”

He smiled and held his hand out towards the door, bowing forward slightly. “Thank you Sir. Now if you please, Lord Mink is waiting for you upstairs in the Executive Lounge.”

Lord Mink? What was this guy talking about? I nodded a little sheepishly, feeling vaguely the same way I had when being chastised for dawdling on my way back from the bathroom in grade school.

“Right. Thanks…”

I turned away and headed for the front doors.


The lobby of Eos Tower was a vast, cavernous expanse of elegant décor and modern architecture. Enormous skylights five stories up no doubt drew copious amounts of outside light into that section of the building during the day, though now it was a black mirrored wash, reflecting the main floor below. Walkways ran along the outskirts of the space at various levels, dipping into individual outlet spaces that hosted a variety of shopping and eating establishments—all very high end from the looks of things. It felt more like a mall to me than the lobby of a hotel.

Luckily, the Executive Lounge was fairly easy to locate. There were carved black-marble signs in the lobby and brass plaques in the elevators indicating which level of the complex each of the premier locations was situated. The lounge I was looking for was on the fifth floor overlooking the massive indoor fountain.

It didn’t take me long to reach it once I figured out where it was.  I stood outside for a minute, gathering my strength to prepare for whatever was going to happen. I seldom knew for sure with this guy and I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

When I finally plucked up the courage to enter through the frosted glass doors I was greeted by a pretentiously dressed attendant standing behind a counter much like the lobby counters downstairs.

“Good evening, Sir,” he offered graciously. I could tell from the way he paused ever so slightly before the word Sir, that he was being insulting on purpose. “May I please see your membership card?”

He held his hand out to me over the desk.

“Don’t have one.” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and shifted my weight.  “I was, uh—” I didn’t want to say sent for, or summoned, because both somehow made me seem like some kind of prostitute which, given the current situation, was unsettlingly close to being an accurate description of the relationship Iason and I had with one another “—asked to come by. I’m here to see Iason Mink?”

I made it a question, hoping he would clue in and figure this all out so I wouldn’t have to risk putting my foot in my mouth.

The attendant’s eyes widened a bit. He then gave me a subtle nod of his head, though I could tell from the way his brows lifted as he looked down at his computer screen that he didn’t believe me.

“One moment please.”

I looked down at my outfit judgementally and frowned when I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. I thought I looked pretty classy, but then I’d grown up in a bloody housing project, what did I know about fashion?

The attendant tapped some keys on the computer and looked up at me again, this time a hint of curiosity in his otherwise condescending sneer. What was it with rich people and their lackeys being able to tell that you weren’t one of them? Was it an appearance based thing? Or maybe some kind of snob ESP?

“Look,” I said impatiently as I pointed at the internal door to the lounge proper, “I know you aren’t buying my story, but I got a text from Iason earlier to come for a drink. The chauffer directed me here. I can call his cellphone if you want to—”

“No no that won’t be necessary!” The attendant waved. “My sincerest apologies Mr. Black. Lord Mink’s guest list hadn’t been re-populated in quite some time... Truly sorry. Please, follow me.”

Again with this Lord shit? I shook my head, but figured if he knew my name he had to be telling the truth.

“Whatever, just take me in.”


The inside of the club was very upscale. A live band was playing soft Jazz music in the front corner of the semi-rounded room and the bar took up most of the central space. Every surface was polished and seemed to gleam under the subdued lighting. I couldn’t see a speck of dust on anything we passed. The attendant walked in front of me and took me toward what looked like a string of private booths at the rear of the lounge.

We came up on one and my breath caught in my throat. Sitting in it, like some charming blonde demon, was Iason. His hair was pulled back at the base of his neck and his features were soft and inviting.

The attendant bowed his head. “Mr. Black, Sir. As you requested.”

Iason nodded his head and raised his hand off the table to acknowledge the man, but he wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were focused on me. I shivered as their blue depths burned holes into my flesh.

“That will be all.”

The attendant took the hint and left me standing there. Alone. With Iason Mink.


Chapter Text

“Why the fuck does everyone keep calling you Lord?”

We’d been sitting together for about twenty minutes in relative silence and I just couldn’t take it anymore. Call me weak for being the first one to talk, but it was driving me nuts.

Iason smiled and took a sip of his honeyed-amber colored drink. It looked like scotch on the rocks. Considering how wealthy he was, I was fairly confident in my guess. “An archaic title connected to some familial land holdings in the eastern provinces. It’s purely a formality, nothing more.”

I crossed my arms and huffed nonchalantly. “Bit pretentious don’t you think?”

He eyed me like a hawk eyes a mouse and smiled again. It was the same smile he’d given me at our first meeting, after he’d already taken advantage of me in the bathroom. The smile that said he enjoyed knowing things I didn’t.

“I suppose you’re right, but I find the title intimidates others, both in business and in my private life and I rather enjoy it.”

I rolled my eyes and glared at him. “Of course you do you’re a fucking sadist.”

“I suppose I am,” he stated simply, folding his gloved hands on the table in front of him.

I stared at him in disbelief. “You aren’t even gonna try to deny it?”

Iason leaned closer to me across the oak table top. “Why should I? I’m not ashamed of who I am, Riki.”

I could smell the warmth of his cologne and a scent that was entirely him wafting in fragile tendrils across the small distance between us. I swallowed hard, his proximity to me clouding my mind.

“Well that…that’s really fucked up.”

He looked at me quizzically. “How so?”

What was with this guy? It was like he wasn’t even human. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you why being a sadist is a fucked up thing. What are you? Some kind of robot?”

He laughed; a deep, reverberating laugh that exuded such confidence and power that it seemed to vibrate the very molecules of my being.

“No,” he replied sincerely. “No I’m not. I just know who I am, what I’m capable of and more importantly, what I want.” He narrowed his eyes on me and smiled that beautiful, terrifying, predatory smile of his.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but another replaced it almost immediately. He was so intimidating and he smelled so wonderful that it was hard to think around him.

“And what do you want?” I asked quietly, nervously.

He drew my head closer with gentle guidance from the hand he placed on my chin. His lips hovered over mine for a few moments, not quite kissing me as my pulse thundered in my ears.


A soft, involuntary, whimper rose in my throat, but he swallowed it. It was not a forceful kiss and yet I fell captive to it just as easily as if he’d claimed my mouth against my will. His hand gently caressed my jaw, his lips moving against mine. One large hand moved back to fondle my ear in a manner that was distinctly Iason and I shuddered. A tingling wave spread from the point of his touch like a herd of microscopic horses were galloping across my nerves and I moaned softly into his mouth.

Iason extricated himself from me, from the kiss, and, to my own horror, I made a small sound of protest. I frowned. He smiled.

“Was that a request for more, pretty pet?”

Though I secretly wanted to say yes—scream it at the top of my lungs even—the mocking smirk on his lips made me scowl at him.

“I’m not your fucking pet.”

This only seemed to please him further. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Fuck you, Iason.”

To my surprise, he got up Instead of replying. Standing next to the side of the table he extended a gloved hand to me. My eyes traveled the length of his body from his hand to his face, but his expression was back to his usual, unreadable mask.



Though I resisted leaving initially, he was quite persuasive. I also didn’t have a way back to Midas since it was his private car that had brought me into Tanagura. So, in the end, I went with him to the JR building. We rode in silence up the private elevator that went from the parking garage to his top floor apartment. I knew why we’d come here, I just didn’t know what to expect and every move he made, made me flinch.

When his sudden move to take off his jacket inside the apartment made me jump for the fifth time since we got out of the car he sighed irritably.

“Would you stop that? You jump as though I’m about to strike you.”

This made me angry. How dare he question my natural reactions to the fucked up situation he forced me into accepting. I glared at him furiously. “I can’t fucking help it, you goddamn psycho! I don’t know what you’re going to do to me next, why the hell wouldn’t I be scared around you?”

Iason grew unusually quiet as he finished removing his jacket. He turned to me with a blank face that chilled me to my core.

“A psychopath? Really? Is that what I am?” He looked calm, but the trembling in his jaw muscles told me I was on thin ice. Unfortunately I’m not someone who knows when to quit. One of my many, wonderful, faults.

“You drugged me, you raped me, you have a sicko sex dungeon in your fucking office, so yah, I’d say you’re a fucking psychopath!”

He glared at me, his eyes like cold fire. “Well, since you’re clearly the trained psychological expert in the room, if you say I’m a psychopath then perhaps that’s what I am.”

He reached out and grabbed my collar before I could run.

“Shall we test your theory, doctor?”


“W-what are you going to do with that?”

Iason was standing in front of me, slowly swinging what looked like a wide leather strap next to his thigh. For the third time since being dragged by my collar into the hidden dungeon room and stripped naked, I tried to lift my head to look at his face. For the third time, my neck stopped short; it was linked to a chain attached to the floor. Because of this, from my positon on all fours I wasn’t able to see above Iason’s waist.

I sighed anxiously, afraid of what the blonde bastard was going to do. Knots churned in my stomach as the helplessness that came with being bound coursed through my body in painful surges. Desperately, I struggled against my restraints as Iason walked out of my range of vision. I didn’t move much. In addition to my neck being kept level with my spine via the floor chain and my collar, my wrists and ankles were being kept shoulder width apart by stiff metal rods attached between leather wrist and ankle cuffs. There was also a rod between my legs that ran down the center of my body and connected the center of the wrist spreader with the center of the ankle spreader. It was an I-beam configuration which was simple, yet incredibly effective at stopping any sort of movement of my limbs in any direction. I wasn’t able to close, nor open, my legs or arms, nor was I able to curl in on myself or spread out. I was essentially frozen in position. It sucked.

Iason was behind me now, or at least, I was pretty sure he was since I could hear him moving. My legs instinctively tried to close to protect my vital areas when the foot falls grew closer to my ass. The chains clanked as the restraints did their job, effectively hindering my movement. My heart raced in panic when I remained open and exposed to him. The anxiety was starting to get to me bad.

The sharp crack of the leather strap being snapped in the air made my body jerk violently. I tried to look back over my shoulder, but was unable to do so.

“God, please just get it over with,” I groaned. “I can’t take much more of this!”

“You do not give the orders,” Iason replied quietly. He snapped the strap again, no doubt to enjoy watching me jump a second time. “In fact,” he continued languidly, “you’ll not speak from this point on unless spoken to. Is that understood?”

“Fuck you, you bastard! I’ll talk if I—AHH!

The strap had lashed out from somewhere behind me mid-sentence, colliding with my ass and leaving a wide, stinging, bite.

Iason continued to pace deliberately back and forth behind me. “That was your only warning. If I have to repeat myself you will sorely regret it, pet.”

The word ‘pet’ dug at me like a weevil burrowing into my flesh. I wanted to scream at him at the top of my lungs that I didn’t belong to him, but I could still feel the stinging burn of the strap across my ass.  I reluctantly held my tongue.

He waited for a response silently for several more seconds. “Nothing to add this time?”

Oh, how I wanted to punch his pretty blue lights out. I growled and bit my lip as I clenched my hands into fists against the floor, resisting his taunting question.

He knelt down beside me and ran his hand slowly up my back to my head to caress my hair like you would a dog.

“Good boy.”

His words crawled over my skin like ants, but his touch…

I hadn’t been expecting it and it made me shiver in a manner that was very pleasant, even though his words infuriated me. It was becoming a battle between my mind and my body and I was determined, this time, to keep my body from winning.

Stepping away from me again, Iason returned to his former position behind me.

“You seem to think this is all some kind of game. That you can pick and choose when to obey me.” The implement in his hand snapped loudly as it suddenly connected with my ass and I cried out in surprise.

“You need to learn that such behaviour is not acceptable in the slightest.”

Another crack, another searing lash across my rapidly reddening flesh.

“You will obey me.” Another lash. “Always.” Two more.

I whimpered after the third strike. Screamed after the fifth. Started weeping and begging him to stop after the twelfth. It went on and on, the only sound in the room was the strap and my pained cries, my begging, until I lost count of the strikes. Iason said absolutely nothing.

Eventually, I stopped crying. I stopped begging. My mind was as numb as my flesh at that point. New strikes didn’t even register; my ass was just one constant burning, stinging, ache. It was only then that he dropped the strap and came to me.

I flinched violently when he touched my back, afraid he was going to find some new way to hurt me. But there was nothing in his hands. His bare hands.

This rare change brought me out of my mental fog just long enough to relive what had just happened, relive all the shitty things that had happened so far since meeting him. I began weeping again. There weren’t many tears, but my shoulders quivered and shook and I began making weak, pathetic, sounds.

I didn’t care.

Iason made soft comforting sounds with his mouth, stroking my back as I cried my dry, pained tears.

“You did very well, Riki.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have the will. His soothing sounds and caresses were lulling me back into the strange, grey, state of mind I had drifted into earlier. They actually felt good.

“Did you learn your lesson?”

I hesitated only for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“And you’ll be a good boy from now on, won’t you?”


“Yes, what?”


“There’s my good boy.” He sounded genuinely pleased with me; relieved even, though I couldn't figure out why.

“…m-master?” I was terrified he would strike me for speaking out of turn, but I had to say something. I didn’t know how much longer I could kneel on the hard floor like that.

“Yes?” He sounded surprised by my choice of words.

“My knees are killing me. Can I…please get up now?” I hung my head and waited, almost ashamed for having asked at all. What was he doing to me?

Iason’s response was to reach down and undo the cuffs holding my limbs to the movement-restricting spreader bars. I breathed a sigh of relief I didn’t know I’d been holding. He undid my neck chain from the floor last, placing a soft kiss on the back of my neck as he did so. I quivered ever so slightly.


Trying to stand was not easy after being on my knees for that long. It was a slow process to stand even with Iason’s help, and he’d had to catch me to keep me from falling when I initially tried to walk. My knees had buckled, unable to support my weight. From there he’d simply picked me up in his arms, very careful not to touch my punished rear end.

Instead of taking me to the hidden platform covered in furs as I’d initially assumed he would, he took me out of the “punishment side” altogether and brought me back to the “living side”; to his apartment. I was surprised, but didn’t say anything as he set me down on my front across his bed. He didn’t offer anything to me in the way of words either. Long periods of silence between us were not uncommon and yet they weren’t uncomfortable. Neither of us was really the type to carry on superfluous conversations. It was just as well though. I learned more from him in complete silence than I did during our brief, usually hostile, conversations anyway.

Like his preference for classical music. A light piano opus was playing quietly over the apartment’s internal speaker system, but I hadn’t heard it before now because we’d been arguing. I wasn’t able to identify the song, but the notes were light and rapid and not at all what I would expect him to enjoy, or at least enough to have it playing throughout his home.

“Who’s the composer?” I asked quietly, looking up at the concealed speaker in the ceiling.


He didn’t scold me for speaking out of turn, which admittedly was a relief as well as a source of confusion. So I was allowed to speak freely when we were here, but not when we were in the dungeon? Or was it because the situation and “feeling” between us had shifted somehow? His rules seemed highly context sensitive and I knew learning to read him well enough to know when he wanted me subservient and quiet and when he didn’t care was going to take time.

“It’s…very pretty,” I commented lamely.

“I didn’t want to have to do that to you.”

His comment was so quiet and so out of left field that I wasn’t sure how to respond. “What?”

“My intention was not to bring you here and punish you.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

He looked at me and I was startled to see affection in his gaze. “To pleasure you.”

I cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “Well something must have been lost in the translation there, because what you did to me was the exact opposite. My ass still fucking hurts, no thanks to you.”

Iason turned his head away at this, as though remembering something he’d forgotten. “Which reminds me…”

He got up and went into the attached master bathroom and came back a few moments later with a tube of something. He got up beside me on the bed and uncapped it, pouring a liberal amount into the palm of his hand.

“This should help with most of your… discomfort.”

I put my hand out in protest. “You are not going to lotion my ass like I’m some giant baby with diaper r—“

The moment his hand touched my punished flesh with the soothing balm my words left my mouth in a whooshing sigh of instant relief.

“Better?” he asked.

Fuck yes…

He rubbed gentle, soothing, circles all across my ass, spreading the lotion and easing the discomfort I had been feeling. The lotion must have been medicated or something because by the time he’d rubbed the whole palm-full into my skin the pain was almost completely gone.

He kissed me between my shoulder blades. “Good boy.”

I groaned softly.

He pressed his lips further up, against the back of my neck and I shivered, shifting my arms to stretch out my neck further. He kept his lips there as he opened and closed them, gently sucking on my skin.

For reasons I cannot explain, I had an overwhelming urge to cuddle up next to him; to curl my body closer to his and have his arms wrapped around me. It was a unique, almost loving sensation that I had never experienced before.  I didn’t love him, I knew that much, but I wanted to be close to him, to press myself against him like a cat curling around someone’s legs. I wanted his approval. Gasping wordlessly, I struggled to understand my emotions.

“Something the matter?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“I feel…strange.”

“Strange how?”

I was embarrassed to say how I truly felt.

“Strange how, Riki?” he persisted, his tone less accommodating and even more concerned. I knew from his tone that I had to answer him or risk the consequences.

“Strange like…I want…” I couldn’t say it.

“You want what, pet?”

“…I want to...”


“…cuddle.” I buried my face in my hands against the soft duvet, mortified by my request.

Iason remained silent for a moment and I was too embarrassed to look up to gauge his reaction. To my surprise I felt his hands on me, shifting my upper body effortlessly into his lap so that I could curl against his lower body while still keeping my sore rear-end off the bed. I froze in place at first, resisting the new arrangement, but when his hand came down and rested on my back, the other playing with my hair, I could no longer keep myself rigid. I curled myself around his right leg the way I’d wanted to so desperately moments before, cuddling his thigh and pressing my face against it with a sigh of relief.

Iason once again began to make his soft crooning sounds of comfort and I felt more at home in his lap then I had felt anywhere, with anyone, in a very long time. It was a deeply rooted sense of belonging, entrenched in both body and mind, which I had never experienced before tonight. The realization that Iason was at the epicenter of that soothing feeling was overwhelmingly disturbing. I didn’t want to feel so at home in his lap. I didn’t want to want him in that way; to draw comfort from him. I hated him. And yet I couldn’t stop myself. It was just too much.

Softly, I started to cry.

“Shh, Riki.  It’s alright.”

“What’s wrong with me?” I sobbed pathetically.

“There is nothing wrong with you, my pet.” He stroked my hair and rubbed my back. “This is perfectly normal. It happens to many pets after their first punishment. It will pass.”

This happened to everyone? That made me feel a little bit better, but the tears did not abate.


Iason continued to pat and rub me and caress my hair and whisper softly to me for over an hour until, finally, I quieted.

I was exhausted.  Emotionally. Physically. I just couldn’t handle any more. I lay there, cuddled in Iason’s lap under the blanket he’d pulled over me and took deep, soothing breaths as he’d told me to do.

“Iason?” my voice was small.


“Can I have something to drink?”

 “Of course you may.” His tone was low and comforting.

My throat was hoarse from screaming and yelling and crying. I licked my lips. They tasted salty and dry.

Rather than getting up and leaving me alone, Iason picked me up and carried me with him, wrapped in the blanket. God he was strong. No wonder my ass had hurt so much.

He brought me out into the living room and set me gently on the sofa. My ass didn’t really hurt any more, but he was careful all the same.

When he returned from the kitchen with a glass, I took it from him. He smiled gently.

“It’s only water. I don’t think you should have anything else right now.”

Water was all I’d wanted, but it was nice to know he was thinking about me.

“Thank you.” I took a small sip, which quickly turned into several large gulps, which emptied the entire glass.

Two and a half glasses later, I was finally satisfied. I leaned forward and set my half-finished glass on the coffee table. Iason leaned forward immediately afterward and moved the glass onto a coaster. This made me roll my eyes, but he didn’t comment. He just gave me an amused look and shook his head as he put his arm back around my shoulder.

I yawned loudly as I cuddled back against his side, the blanket still wrapped around me completely.

I felt his chest rise, heard him take in a breath as though he were about to say something, but then he paused as though the words had left him.

“What is it?” I probed.

He shifted slightly so he could lift my chin. A little hesitantly, he continued. “You may stay here with me tonight, if you’d like.”

I looked up at him and my face was a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“Or I can have you taken home to Midas,” he offered quickly. “It’s your choice, Riki.”

I turned my head away, looking at the fire place crackling merrily across from us. Despite everything the night had thrown at me, despite everything I had experienced so far, good and bad, the choice was simple.

“I’ll stay.”

Iason’s brow raised. “Is that what you truly want?”

I thought about Guy sleeping on the couch at home alone in my apartment, and wondered briefly if he’d figured out that I was gone yet. Even if he had, it strangely made no difference to me. I was here now and I had no desire to leave.

I nodded my head.

Iason kissed the top of my head slowly. Then my temple. Then inclined his neck to kiss my mouth. It was soft and careful, as though I’d break.

I felt my body stir under the blankets and I took his hand in mine, pressing it to my groin so he could feel that I was receptive to his advances.

He pulled away briefly and looked me in the eyes. I gave him a look that demanded he continue. He did. With gusto.


Arms around my body, tongue in my mouth, Iason picked me up and carried me back to the bedroom. The blanket was left on the sofa and the cool wash of air over my naked skin sent tingles across my body. I clung to his neck and kissed him back desperately.

Carefully, so very carefully, he laid me back on the bed.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” I reassured him.

His eyes seemed to change then, shifting from concern to relief. Then to desire.

With deliberate movements he removed his own clothing before crawling onto the bed over top of me. I stared up into his eyes and then leaned up to kiss his chest. I heard him make a small sound and looked up to see his eyes were shut tight, his mouth open slightly.

I kissed some more, moving across his chest and slowly pressing against his body. When I got to his nipple he shivered. I sucked tentatively at first, and felt his body stiffen, then relax. I sucked harder and he gasped. It was small, and nearly silent, but I’d heard it and knew he liked what I was doing.

Without warning he took my hands in his and pressed them back against the bed, pinning me down.

“Enough!” he growled. I was a bit dazed by the aggression, but his mouth was pressed against mine so quickly that I didn’t have long to be bewildered. His hips were thrusting slowly, rhythmically, against mine. His movements almost seemed to match the ebb and flow of his tongue in my mouth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

I sighed longingly and bucked my hips up against him impatiently. I had been turned on and off again all night and my body was desperate for something more substantial.

“I need…something,” I groaned.

“What do you need?” His voice was thick with desire against my throat.

I made a frustrated sound and strained my hands against his, trying to get up. Thoughts of being restrained in the dungeon earlier flashed back to my mind. The memories mixed with my lust and desire and the similar sensations of restraint and I moaned, shivering.

“Don’t know I just…need to cum.”

Iason grinned down at me. “Of course you do.”

He got off the bed then and retrieved a box from a drawer in his closet. When he returned he tapped my legs.

“Lift them up.”

I was a bit hesitant to expose my so recently punished ass, but he gave me a reassuring look and I was hesitant no longer. I lifted my legs back against my chest and his hand came to caress over the base of my cock and balls. I gasped and wriggled against his hand.

“Take a deep breath when I tell you too, alright?”

I nodded slowly and watched down the length of my body, my neck straining to stay raised off the bed. He tapped my forehead with his finger.

“Head back,” he commanded.

I huffed indignantly, but did as he said.

There were a few small sounds; the opening of the box lid, a crinkle of tissue paper and the cap of a lid snapping open and then shut. A few moments later I felt a cold, slick finger press against my opening.

My head shot up with concern, but he pushed it down again.


I stayed.

Slowly he circled his finger around, spreading the lubricant and prodding me gently. He pressed inside slowly, first with one finger, then with two. My breaths were coming in uneven gasps as his fingers sent tingles of pleasure through me. I reached a hand down and slowly began to stroke myself. I half expected him to stop my hand, but he didn’t.

His fingers pulled out abruptly and I felt the cold slick tip of something press against my anus. I resisted the urge to raise my head again, because he’d told me twice not to. My hand slowed on my cock, but he tapped it gently.

“Keep going. It will make this more pleasant.”

I did as he said, quivering with nervous excitement.

“On three, take a deep breath and keep stroking yourself.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Hopefully not, but it may.”

I exhaled forcefully, preparing myself for whatever was going to happen.

He began the count. “One…Two…Three. Breathe in.”

As I drew in a slow, deep, breath Iason began pressing the object inside me. I winced and cried out as the pain grew steadily. When I didn’t think I’d be able to bear it much more I felt it pop inside, past the ring of muscle. It was a bit bigger than Iason’s two finger’s had been and the sensation was wildly different. I shuddered deeply and gasped as it filled me. My hand never stopped stroking my cock.

“How does it feel?” Iason asked earnestly.

I moaned as he moved the toy slowly back and forth. “F-feels good.”

“Doesn’t hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

He seemed satisfied with this and slowly began to fuck me with the toy. In and out, slowly, to match the pace of my hand on my cock.  I panted and groaned as the filling, stretching sensation over took my body from the waist down. It was like nothing I’d felt before, so different from just jerking off. More complete somehow. I vowed then and there to pick up something of my own to keep at home.

Slowly, Iason increased the pace of his hand and pushed mine away. I cried out at the loss, but it soon turned to one of overwhelming pleasure as he leaned down and took my cock in his mouth.

Nnn…h-holy fuck!” I put my hands on his head and drew my hips up, bucking them into his mouth.

“Gonna cum…” I moaned breathlessly. “Ohh—g-gonna cum!”

All of a sudden my hips jolted forward as the toy in my ass started to vibrate.


It was all I could take. In rhythmic pumps and contractions I shot into Iason’s mouth, spurt after spurt as he continued to fuck my ass with the buzzing toy. I felt my ass clamp down around it as I came; the sudden resistance against its movement just made the sensations it provided that much stronger as it fought and pressed against the inner walls of my body.

I panted and moaned and twitched as the vibrations and movements of his mouth assaulted my hyper-sensitive, post-climactic, nerves.  The toy was thankfully switched off before Iason removed it and placed it back in the box.

My arm was flung up over my eyes as I lay there, breathing heavy.


I struggled to make my mouth form words.

“T-that was…that was…”

Iason moved up so that the curve of my ass was pressed against his abdomen. He lowered my legs and leaned forward between them so that he could kiss me. I could taste the salty, slightly bitter taste of my own cum in his mouth, but for some reason that just made it even hotter. I hadn’t expected him to do that, considering he was some kind of weirdo germaphobe or something. That was my guess at least, since he wouldn’t talk about the gloves.

“You enjoyed it then?”

I couldn’t even answer. I just gave him a look of utter satisfaction, my lips trembling. He smiled and kissed me again. I kissed him back.

“Would you like to go to sleep now? You’ve had a long day.”

This took me by surprise. “Wait, but you haven’t—“

“That’s sweet of you,” he cut in, “but I enjoyed myself while I was pleasuring you. You were too deeply involved in the experience to notice, I believe.”

He brought his hand up and showed me the remnants of his release still clinging in wet trails to it.

“I didn’t even—You didn’t even make any noise I didn’t realize…”

“I did, though I’m not nearly as vocal as you are.”

I thought back, combing my memory to try and pinpoint when he’d come, but I couldn’t remember anything other than the intensity of the pleasure.


“No need to apologize,” he reassured me, “I quite like the sounds you make.”

He placed a hand on my chest and kissed me again. It was a soft kiss, his tongue probing, but gentle inside my mouth. It made me feel complete, somehow.

“No, I…I’m sorry I came before you could—get in.”

Iason looked perplexed for a split second before turning his head to laugh quietly. “Oh, Riki. Don’t apologize for that, I intended to make you come this way tonight.” He pressed his lips to my temple affectionately as his hand went down between us to press against my anus. I gasped at the unexpected touch.

“I will explore the depths of your body with mine when you are ready, and not a moment before.” He looked me straight in the eyes, his own lidded and teasingly seductive. “I already told you, you’ll be begging me to fuck you when the time comes.” With that he pressed his finger inside of me a little bit, accentuating his promise. The combination of the penetration and his dirty language made me moan and shiver. He never cursed and it turned me on to no end whenever he did. It felt like I’d rubbed off on him somehow; dirtied him. Made him mine.

I looked down, my face suddenly blushing in embarrassment at the thought. I knew he wasn’t mine. And I didn’t want him to be mine. I hated him…didn’t I?

Chapter Text

The following morning I woke in a bit of a panic. Not the “I’m late for work” kind of panic. No, this was the “where in the hell am I?” kind of panic. The worst kind, in my opinion. Fortunately it only lasted a few seconds before I remembered that I’d spent the night with Iason. Sighing, I put my arm across my forehead and let the reality of that sink in. I’d spent the night with Iason Mink; fallen asleep in his bed with his arms wrapped around me.

A wave of guilt washed over me at the thought of what I’d let happen. Up till now, everything that Iason and I had done had been his choice, not mine, but last night had been different. Last night he’d given me the choice to go, to get away, and I’d refused. I thought about Guy at home in my apartment, waking up alone, wondering where I’d gone, and tears stung my eyes. I was the biggest piece of garbage in the entire universe right now and I had no one to blame but myself. I couldn’t even blame Iason, because, in the end, it had been my choice to stay the night in Tanagura. I could have gone home. I could have walked away from all this shit and gone back to Guy. But I hadn’t. I’d chosen to stay, to fucking stay and cheat on my best friend with my worst enemy. And god help me, I’d enjoyed it.

Suddenly, the king sized bed made me feel very claustrophobic. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I had to get out of this place, get away from Iason. I sat up swiftly, intent on getting the hell out there, but I regretted my decision only seconds later. As it turned out, my ass was still incredibly sore from the strapping I’d taken last night. And…from other things. Wincing in pain, I looked down at Iason. His sleeping form took me by surprise. He was spread out on his stomach, his well developed back moving up and down as he breathed slow and deep. His loose blonde hair enveloped most of his upper body like some tussled golden sheet. My own hair looked like a clump of steel wool that had gotten caught in a garburator when I woke up, and it wasn’t even past my neck. How he managed to have hair six times the length of mine and wake up with it looking beautiful was a mystery to me. I let my eyes linger on him just a little bit longer than I should have. I couldn’t help it. He was beautiful, pure and simple. I made myself look away because I knew better. I knew that hiding beneath that sculpted masculine form and long angelic hair there was a sadistic red-eyed demon that wanted to consume my soul.

Maybe, he already had.


In Sunday morning traffic, the drive from downtown Tanagura to my neighborhood in Midas wasn’t a particularly long one, but it was still more time than I wanted to spend alone making uncomfortable small talk with a complete stranger. Thankfully, the cab driver hadn’t said much to me beyond “where too?”. Whether or not that was because he just wasn’t a talkative person, or because my inappropriate-for-a-Sunday-morning outfit and sluggish behavior screamed ‘hungover club kid!’, I really didn’t know. Truthfully, feeling the effects of a night of binge drinking and E would have been preferable to the cloudy haze of regret and confusion that was hanging over me now.

Blearily I yawned, reaching into my pocket for my cellphone.

It wasn’t there.

That woke me up a little. Puzzled, I checked the other pocket. Nothing. I patted my jacket down. No sign of it. It wasn’t anywhere on my person. I sighed dismally at my own stupidity and put my head in my hands. I must have left it behind in Tanagura. I suppose it was only fitting though. I’d been in a pretty big hurry to leave this morning and it served me right. Now I’d have to deal with Iason sooner rather than later just to get it back. I contemplated re-routing the cab to a store to buy another one, but I thought better of it. All of my contacts; Work, family, friends. Everyone. They were all stored in my phone. I had to get that one back. Not to mention Guy would start to notice it was missing eventually. I didn’t want him springing questions on me that I would have to make up answers for.

I rested my head against the seat back and stared up at the grey upholstered ceiling of the cab. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. It didn’t seem possible that only twelve hours had passed since I’d gone running into Tanagura at Iason’s behest. It felt like a lifetime ago.  


The cab pulled up outside my apartment building twenty minutes later and I felt my stomach sink like some ocean trawler had dropped anchor in it. I didn’t know how I was going to face Guy after what I’d done. Didn’t know how to lie to him. There was no way I was going to be able to tell him the truth about what had happened. I didn’t even know if he’d believe me. The shit about Iason blackmailing me, taking advantage of me, and starting this whole fucked up situation sounded made up even to my own ears and I was the one it had happened to. Even if he did believe me, if I told Guy I’d made the choice to sleep with Iason even after everything he’d done to me, what kind of person would he think I was? I didn’t even know myself.

No. No, Guy could never find out about this. Not ever. He’d be crushed beyond recovery. I couldn’t have that. I didn’t want it to end this way. I didn’t want to throw away everything we had together. This would not only devistate the two of us as a couple, but also as friends and as business partners. Everything was so tied up in us being together I couldn’t think about a negative outcome without cringing.

I paid for the cab in a daze. I think the driver told me to cheer up, but I wasn’t paying enough attention to respond. I was still trying to figure out what to do when I got home as my feet carried me up the stairs. Where was I going to say I had been? At work? We were on break after the blitz, that wouldn’t make sense? Out…partying? With who? Where at? I knew he would ask and I didn’t know enough people he wasn’t also friends with to make something up. Fuck! What was I going to do? I had made a single, stupid, mistake; that was on me and I was dealing with it, in my own way. Guy though, he hadn’t done anything wrong. That he should have to suffer because of me, because of something stupid that I had done, made my heart ache; my stomach turn.

The hallway seemed to stretch on for miles as I dragged along toward my apartment, dreading speaking to Guy. Internally I knew I had to cheer up, to put a better face on this or he would know something was up. The guilt just made it hard to do.

I paused and shook out my shoulders; practiced a smile. It felt fake, but it was better than going in there looking like a convict approaching the electric chair. I had to try. For us, I had to do this.

My keys in the lock sounded so much louder to me than they ought to of. I could feel each click as the key slid in place and turned the tumbler inside. I took a deep breath and opened the door.


Guy was sitting on the couch when I walked in. He looked at me as I entered and I could see confusion on his face.

“Hey, sorry I had to run to the—“

“Who’s I.M.?”

I froze.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Guy stood, his confusion seeming to flee in the presence of his rising anger. He held out his hand to me as he approached. My heart sank when I saw my cellphone resting in it. I thought I’d been stupid for leaving my phone with Iason, when I hadn’t even brought it with me in the first place. It had been here all along, sealing my coffin.

I stared at the phone, transfixed by it.

“Who’s I.M., Riki?”

I was roused by this, moving my eyes from the phone to Guy’s face and then back again. “Just someone from work. Nobody important.”

It was foolish of me to try and lie about it. Guy wouldn’t have asked about the messages if he hadn’t looked through my phone. Still, I couldn’t just give in, not when so much was at stake.

He crossed his arms and gave me a look that said he knew I was full of shit. “Really? Just someone from work? Because the text they sent this morning certainly doesn’t back up your statement.”

Oh no. Oh god, please no. What had Iason sent me?

Seconds felt like hours as he slid his thumb across the screen to unlock the device. My heart was thudding in my ears, everything but the motion of his hand was blurred and hazy. He held it up and read, “Leaving without waking me up? Why am I not surprised. Call me, Riki. I’d like to discuss something with you. - I.M.”

His voice wavered a few times as he read through the text message, as though he were fighting back tears and it broke my heart. Why was this happening? I felt like someone had been using my body to do horrible things and I was just now regaining control of it; dealing with the aftermath. There were so many questions racing through my head, coiling around one another and stabbing at my emotional centers. I wanted to rip my brain out of my head and throw it against the wall.

“W-who is—“his voice broke and tears lined the bottom lids of his beautiful grey eyes .


“Are you fucking him?”

I swallowed hard. Tried to speak. I couldn’t, so I looked away.

Guy took a step back, as though my response had been a physical blow. “I see…”

I found my voice then. “No Guy, it’s not—”

His shoulders hunched and he put a hand out to stop me. “Don’t. Just…don’t.” he was crying in small gasps now and I wanted to go to him so badly. My entire body was tense; I felt like a guitar string tuned so tight it was about to snap.

“Riki, you’ve never let me—y-you said we couldn’t because…” his face looked so defeated and hurt as he looked away in embarrassment. He seemed to collect himself in a single roll of his shoulders; a tilt of his head. He stared at me earnestly. “You said you weren’t ready for that yet…that it takes time…but, you could do it with him?”

I couldn’t keep myself back anymore and ran to his side. I put my hands on his shoulders and he threw them off. I grabbed him again and this time he let me. “Guy, it’s not like that! I tried to tell you before that I haven’t slept with him but you cut me off!”

This wasn’t entirely true, I had spent the night in Iason's bed and we had done some things, but not the real deal. I hadn’t gone all the way with either of them yet. “The things I've done with him, they…they weren’t my choice! None of this has been my choice!” I took hold of his face in my hands; made him look at me. “The only choice I’ve made for myself in months has been you!”

My breath came in panting gasps. My shoulders shook. I felt wetness cooling on my cheeks; running down the curve of my trembling throat. I didn’t care enough to wipe any of it away.

Guy was silent, looking at the ground. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. He was unreadable, which was not like him at all. After a while he cleared his throat to speak. “You said...that what you did with him wasn’t your choice.” He looked up at me then, very seriously. “Are you telling me this person…forced you?”

My cheeks went red with shame. Men weren’t supposed to talk about things like this. Men weren’t supposed to be able to be taken advantage of. I knew now that that was complete bullshit, but it still didn’t make it any easier to face, especially with another man standing right there. My throat went tight and I blinked back more tears. Slowly, I drew in a shaking breath and mustered as much courage as I could.


I didn’t see Guy’s reaction because I didn’t raise my eyes from his chest the entire time.

“Is that the truth?”

I looked up then. “Yes.”

“And he’s done this—It’s happened more than once?”

I nodded, but just barely.

“How long has it been going on?” he asked seriously.

I glanced left. “About a month or so.”

He took a step back and put his hands on his hips. His head was angled downward and I could tell from the hard set of his eyebrows that he was thinking hard about what he was going to say next.

When so much time had passed that I almost said something he finally looked at me. There was a softness on his face, an understanding, that I couldn’t recall seeing before. The crystalline wetness of tears welled in his eyes as he slowly came towards me. I was too stunned to move when he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight; nearly crushing me against his chest.

“I believe you. And I’m so sorry.”

I was weeping softly now as he held me, squeezed me. My arms wrapped gently around his back and I clung to him fiercely as all the confusion, self-loathing and fear I had felt since Iason had first come to me in the executive washroom rushed out of me.

“It’s okay, Riki. None of this is your fault.”

That only made me cry harder; cling tighter. He was right, but I had still fucked up. I had still stayed the night with Iason last night, by choice. Whether or not that had really been my choice or not was now in question and my brain didn’t want to deal with it anymore. I shut down completely and just let myself cry.

Chapter Text

After I’d calmed down, Guy sat me on the couch and asked me to tell him everything. I did. I told him how it had started in the washroom, about getting drunk and being taken advantage of by Kirie and about going into Tanagura the night before. He wasn’t outwardly angry at first, but I could tell from the hardening set of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders and forearms that he wanted to punch somebodies lights out. I told him as much as I could, but I didn’t reveal Iason’s identity. He’d wanted to know why I was protecting the person who was abusing me, and I’d finally had to come clean and tell him that our recording deal was being held over my head. This made him go quiet.

“You’re doing this to keep our careers safe? Who could—“ he gasped and stopped mid-sentence. “I.M.…”

I looked away. I knew it was only a matter of time before he put two and two together.

“Iason Mink. Jesus Christ, Riki, the CEO of the company is doing this to you?”

There was something odd in his voice when he asked me the question, but given the circumstances I didn’t pay any attention. I looked away silently, face reddening with shame.

Guy stared at me open mouthed for a second, and then got up off the couch, whipping his jacket around his shoulders.

“Where are you going?” I asked, standing quickly.

Guy looked at me point blank as he shrugged his shoulders with disturbing nonchalance. “I’m gonna kill him.”

My mouth dropped open. “Jesus, Guy, don’t talk like that!”

He turned back to me, his hand on the door handle. “It’s not talk. He’s a dead man.”

I ran to the door and put myself between it and Guy. Hands on his chest I pleaded with him. “Guy you’re scaring the shit out of me.  Please just go and sit down.”

His jaw was hard as he looked at me; his eyes glassy and distant. “He hurt you and he has to pay. Now move.” He pushed me roughly out of his way like I didn’t weigh anything and ripped the door open so violently that it bounced off the wall and shut behind him. The force of it closing caught the door in the snug-fitting jamb and I had to yank on it for a few times to free it.

Guy was just heading down the stairs when I finally made it into the hallway. I screamed his name at the top of my lungs and he turned toward me, giving me a pain-filled smile that chilled my spine. Without a word he continued down the stairs.


I bolted after him, raced down the stairs and made it to the door of the parking garage as I heard his motorcycle engine roar to life. He was peeling out of the open gate as I entered. My heart sank.

Shit. Shit. Shit! What the hell had I just done? I sprinted as fast as I could back to the apartment and grabbed my cellphone off the ground where Guy had dropped it. Fingers trembling, I frantically searched through my contacts until I found Iason.

“Come on pick up!” I murmured, tapping my foot. Honestly, why don’t people just keep their phones in their—

“Good morning, pet.” Iason’s voice was inviting and almost unbearably smooth as it came across the line.

I rolled my eyes and sighed angrily. “Not now with that shit, I called you for a reason.”

“You received my text message I presume?”

“No I didn’t, but you know who did? My fucking boyfriend!”

There was silence on the line for several seconds, then, “He is the drummer in your band—Guy, if memory serves correct?”

I paced back and forth, hand on my hip. “Yes your memory is serving you fucking correctly. And I didn’t call to talk about work, I called because I…” I paused. I had no idea how he was going to react when he found out that I’d told someone about our…arrangement.

“Look, Iason, he knows. I told him about…everything. And he’s beyond pissed. He said he’s gonna kill you. I think he might actually fucking try.”

I heard him take a deep breath then exhale very slowly. “…Explain.

I ignored the veiled anger hidden within that single command—and it was a command. I knew from his tone of voice that I had no other option than to answer him.

“Explain? Iason, he read your fucking text messages and confronted me with them when I got home this morning! What was I supposed to do?” I sat down and cradled my head in one hand, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Look, I didn’t call you to tell you this because I wanted to upset you, I called because I’m concerned for your safety.”

Had those words actually just come out of my mouth? I could almost hear Iason’s sly smile coming through the phone. I wanted to vomit.

“And you genuinely believe this? That he means to hurt me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Very well. What would you have me do to alleviate your concern?”

I groaned. “Fuck, I don’t know. Just leave the city for a few days maybe? Go to that estate you own outside the city, or some other house--I’m sure you have more than one.”

I sighed and I’m sure my concern came through my voice. On a better day I might have cared, but at that point I just didn’t have the energy to cover it up anymore.

“I could leave for a retreat of sorts, but would Guy not then return to your apartment seeking an outlet for his anger?”

“Maybe, but I…I don’t think he’d hurt me.” I hesitated because I honestly wasn’t sure he wouldn’t. I wanted to give Guy the benefit of the doubt, but remembering the cold, dead, fire roiling in his eyes made it hard.

“And if he did try to do such thing? Who would be there to help you?”

I was beyond frustrated now. “Iason, I’ll be fine. Really. Please, just do this for me? He scared the shit out of me today and I’m honestly worried about you, okay?”

Iason exhaled smoothly, but I could tell he was thinking carefully about what I’d said. “Based on what you’ve told me, your lover doesn’t sound like he’s in the most stable frame of mind.” He paused, perhaps to collect his words, perhaps for effect. “I’ll agree to pay a visit to my estate, but only if you will agree to accompany me.”

“No way!” I refused stubbornly. “I’m not trapping myself alone with you out in the middle of fucking nowhere. God only knows what you’ll do to me once we get out there.”

Iason chuckled under his breath; it was a deep, honeyed, sound that tugged at things low in my body with velvet gloves. I swallowed thickly as a faint shiver ran through me.

“My estate is fully staffed, Riki. We would hardly be alone in any true capacity, certainly not enough for me to do whatever…untoward things you’re imagining me doing to you.”

He made it sound like I was fantasizing about him or something! A feverish blush tinged my cheeks crimson. “Fuck you, you giant pervert! I wasn’t imagining you doing anything to—“

“Hush pet, I was only teasing you. There’s no need to get defensive.”

My blush deepened. “I’m not getting defensive!” I protested loudly.

Iason laughed again and this time it was light and patronizing. “No, of course not. How silly of me to presume such a thing.”

“Fuck off,” I spat bitterly. “On second thought, ignore this call completely. Stay right where you are. I hope Guy cuts your dick off and feeds it to you. Arrogant prick.”

Iason drew a mocking hiss in through his teeth. “Oh, you wound me.”

“Shut up,” I snapped grumpily.

Iason laughed derisively, ignoring my comment. “So. Have we reached an agreement? Or shall I be staying here to have my own genitals fed to me by your enraged lover?”

I paled slightly at the bluntness of his question, but sighed in acquiescence soon after. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“There’s a good boy.” I could hear the satisfied grin in his words. I rolled my eyes and got up to pack a bag.


Roughly twenty minutes after I got off the phone with Iason a long black town car, not unlike the one that had been sent to pick me up the night before, pulled up in front of my apartment. I walked up to it, duffle bag slung over my shoulder and the driver got out hurriedly to open my door. It was the same guy who’d picked me up the night before.

I nodded at him, smiling in a genial way that showed I remembered him. A look of appreciative recognition filled his eyes as he held the door for me.

“Thanks man.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Iason was waiting inside the car, his thumbs preoccupied with a sleek black smartphone. He only looked up from it long enough to make eye contact with me as he spoke.

“Hello, Riki.”

I looked away from his intense gaze, gingerly rubbing my hand on the leg of my jeans. “Uh…Hi.”

I looked out the window as a distraction and tried to ignore Iason as best I could, even though I could feel his eyes on me. With the driver in the car it was incredibly awkward being next to the powerful blonde man. I knew the driver must have been making all kinds of assumptions about me, about us, and it made my heart beat with an anxious tempo. It wasn’t that I had a problem with being gay, or bisexual, or whatever the hell I was, it was more that Iason was a powerful man. A wealthy man. And I was decidedly not. The implications of a man like him taking a private car to pick up a guy like me from a downtown Midas apartment were more than a bit salacious. The driver was probably used to it, given the nature of his profession and Iason’s unique tastes, but it didn’t make me feel any less uncomfortable about the situation.

Rather than turning north to travel back towards Tanagura, the car turned south west. I didn’t know where Iason’s estate was from Midas, and I didn’t know how long it would take to get there. I just hoped it wouldn’t take too long. When I wasn’t driving, extended back seat car trips tended to make me nauseous. It was the reason I preferred motorcycles over cars.

Whether he could sense how nervous I was, or if he could see the anxiety on my face, I didn’t know, but it didn’t take more than five minutes for Iason to reach across the middle seat and take my hand. I looked at the back of the driver’s head nervously and then down at Iason’s hand; he was wearing his usual white gloves, but they were thin and I could feel the warmth of his hand through them.

I half expected him to say something to go along with his touch, but he remained silent. He had a quiet smile on his lips as he stared down at the phone in his other hand and every so often he would cast a sidelong glance in my direction. Strangely enough, it didn’t bother me. He’d never held my hand before and it was actually sort of…comforting.

I leaned back in my seat, letting out a quiet sigh as I let my eyes close. The day’s events flooded through my mind like a maelstrom of exhausting colors and emotions. Before I knew it the gentle motion of the car was lulling me off to sleep; Iason’s fingers laced gently through my own.

Chapter Text

“Riki, we’ve arrived.”

I opened my eyes blearily at the intrusive voice. Putting two and two together I bolted upright into my seat with as much nonchalance as I could muster.  My attempts to play it cool obviously weren’t effective because there was a look of cold amusement in Iason’s eyes when I glanced over at him to see if he’d noticed.

“Did you sleep well?”

He gazed at me keenly as I arched my back, stretching. I was tempted to lie, but decided to just give up. I made quiet acquiescent noises through my yawning.

“I guess.” I rubbed my eyes. “How long was I out?”

The chauffer opened Iason’s door for him. “About an hour I’d say.”

I followed suit and got out of the car too, not bothering to wait for my door to be opened. The chauffer started jogging over to my side of the car to help me out, but I waved him off. He gave Iason the briefest of nervous glances, but I gave him a smile and winked, reassuring him that it was fine. He inclined his head briefly, but gratefully, and went to the trunk to pull out Iason’s luggage.

I took the opportunity to look around and take in my new surroundings. For starters the place was massive. We had driven into the inner courtyard of the square shaped palatial dwelling and were surrounded on all four sides by ivy covered white stone walls. At least I was pretty sure it was white. Hard to tell with all the plants covering it. The building was about three stories high, with evenly spaced rows of gothic-style arched windows sparkling like pearls nestled among all that ivy. I half expected there to be gargoyles and angels carved atop the elegant exterior cornicing, but to my disappointment there weren’t any. They were probably tacky or something, but what would I know about that?

Though the place certainly held touches of old-world elegance, the building still had a very modern feel to it. The large marble fountain in the center of the courtyard, for instance, had an abstract oblong sculpture jutting out of the center, rather than a classic stack of tiered basins that you’d expect to find.

Just as my eyes fell on the large sweeping stairs that lead to the front door, a tall thin man in a black suit emerged from the house via a smaller servant’s entrance off to the right of the base of the stairs.

“Lord Mink, welcome home,” The man called, striding over to Iason at a brisk pace.

“Arlo,” Iason acknowledged warmly, inclining his head in greeting. “Always a pleasure.”

I snorted, then tried to hide my laughter by turning my back. Of course the butler’s name was Arlo. Several maids and valets followed behind Arlo and started collecting Iason’s luggage. It was sleek, black, crocodile leather with gold accents and all seemed to be from the same company. None of the bags had wheels which surprised me at first, but, as Arlo stepped off to the side with Iason to speak with him about something, it dawned on me that wheels were pointless when you had an army of servants to carry your bags for you wherever you went. Must be nice to be able to afford to be so pretentious.

One of the maids smiled shyly at me as she picked up one of the smaller cases. She was chubby and cute, just the way I liked them, so I winked at her and flashed a crooked grin. She rushed off into the house with the bag, her face red as a tomato. I laughed quietly in triumph. Still got it.

Not counting the one Ms. Flirtatious had whisked away, there were two large suitcases and three smaller ones still being carried inside, which made me wonder how long Iason actually planned on staying here. Hopefully the handful of underwear and t-shirts I’d grabbed from the clean clothes hamper on my floor were going to be enough.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Sir? Who, me? I turned around. A button nosed valet with cute, but pretty nondescript features and mousey blonde hair was looking at me expectantly, hand extended forward. His eyes flicked from me to my bag.

I glanced at Iason briefly, but His Royal Blondeness just ignored me as he conversed with Arlo. There was a slight turn to the corner of his mouth that suggested he was paying attention out of his peripheral vision, but with him I could never be sure.

“No thanks, Kid. I got it.” I readjusted the fraying strap of my bag on my shoulder.

Iason gave Arlo some kind of order and the man bowed respectfully, hand over his chest, before turning to head back inside the house, servants in tow. With the previous focus of his attention gone, Iason turned to me and approached.

“Our room is being aired out and lunch is still being prepared. Shall I give you a tour of the grounds while we wait?”

His voice was lower than normal and the way his hand trailed over the top of my shoulders on its way down to the small of my back strongly implied he was offering more than just a brief jaunt around the garden.

I swallowed thickly and kicked at a small stone.

“Sure, whatever. Got nothing better to do.” My reply was indifferent, but I was actually curious to see what else the place had to offer besides nice looking wait-staff and a fountain. As to his suggested interest in something more “hands on” than a polite stroll around the grounds, well…that was another thing entirely and I made every attempt to ignore it. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of provoking my interest in him sexually.

He smiled at me. “Splendid.”

We walked out the gate in the south wall of the building, the one the car had driven in through. At once the expansiveness of the property hit me. There were sculpted trees, white fences and landscaped gardens all over the sprawling front yard.


Yard wasn’t quite the right word for it. It was much larger than that. I couldn’t even see the main road from where we were, just a massive wall of trees and hedges way off in the distance. He led me further down the walkway that ran along the outer wall of the mansion. We came around the corner and I caught the briefest glimpse of a large white barn before he had me pressed me against the side of the house. His hands pinned mine to the wall just beside my head and his mouth was on me before I could even process what was happening. I cried out in surprise, though with his mouth pressed hungrily against mine not much sound came out. I was so stunned by the passion in his kiss that I didn’t struggle, I just stood there, entranced.

He caressed the roof and floor of my mouth, flicked against my tongue; tasting every inch of me his tongue could reach. The shock wore off quickly in the heat of the moment and my brows drew together wantonly as I moaned and kissed back. It was hard not to. He was so much bigger than me. Stronger than me. The commanding presence he exuded, held in such intimate proximity to my own body, was overwhelming.

His hand slipped down to my waist, allowing mine to move to his shoulder, but just when I expected it to slip further down the front of my pants he broke away from my mouth. I was left turned on and slightly confused as he pressed his forehead to mine.

“W-what the hell was that?” I panted.

“The kiss I was unable to give you this morning,” he explained, his tone hushed and amorous.

I felt an instant surge of remorse for leaving while he was asleep, but I really hadn’t had much choice. I would have suffocated if I’d stayed any longer. Still, I figured I owed him an apology. I looked at the ground sullenly and dug at the hard red stone with the toe of my boot.

“I’m sorry. About leaving, I mean.”

Finger under my chin, Iason pressed another kiss to my lips; tender and gentle.

“Water under the bridge.” He pulled a strand of my hair between his gloved fingers. “I’ve taken back my stolen kiss, so all is forgiven.”

He moved back and allowed me to move off the wall. I looked at him curiously as I brushed off the back of my jeans. He might have said I was forgiven, but I was willing to bet I was going to pay for it somewhere down the line.

He extended his arm out toward the barn at the bottom of the slope. “Shall we continue?”

I eyed him skeptically, but nodded my head and followed.


The inside of the barn had the unmistakable scent of horses; earthy, sharp and dry. It also smelled of hay and alfalfa and other kinds of dry, fragrant grasses. It was sort of unpleasant, but after a few minutes it really settled into my nose and I got used to it. I looked around at the unfamiliar scenery and followed Iason further inside.

We came to a stop at the first stall that had a horse in it. Instantly the huge animal came over to the gate whinnying and nickering at Iason. The stall had a low v-shaped dip in it that allowed the horse to stick his entire head and neck out of the stall. He could probably have picked something up off the ground outside of it if he really wanted to.

I was in awe. Being a city kid, this was the closest I had ever been to a fully grown farm animal and it was more than a little intimidating. The horse seemed impossibly large and powerful at this distance. No matter how big you might think they are seeing them on television, there is no comparison to seeing them up close in the flesh. The horse was solidly built, with a curved back and long powerful looking legs. He had a black coat with grey dappling all over his back, sides and rump; only his neck and legs seemed free of spots. His mane and tail were long and grey.

I stopped a few steps further behind Iason and eyed the huge beast warily. Iason patted the horse fondly on the neck, speaking to him in a quiet voice and scratching under his light grey forelock. The horse blew and nickered and rubbed his huge head against his master’s hand. He really seemed to be enjoying the attention. I looked away self-consciously. I was sorry to say it, but with Iason I knew exactly what that was like.

As though sensing I was thinking about him, he turned to me, observing me with interest. “Something the matter? You can pet her if you’d like. I assure you she’s quite friendly.”

Oh. So it was a girl horse. My bad. I eyed the horse and, mustering my courage, took several cautious steps toward her. Iason must have picked up my nervousness because he carefully took my hand in his and slowly stroked it down the horses’ nose, much like you would do for a young child. I looked up at him and gave a tenuous smile. She was extraordinarily soft, which surprised me. I figured she’d be rougher, since she was a big animal. Iason removed his hand and patted the horses’ neck again as he watched me.

“This is pretty cool,” I enthused. “So…what’s her name anyway?” I asked, stroking the huge creature on my own now. She leaned into my hand as she had done to Iason, moving her head around to get me to stroke and scratch where she wanted.

“Charielle Van De Veldbalie.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Pretty pretentious name for a horse, don’t you think?”

He smiled at me and nodded his head in agreement. “True, it is a mouthful, but that is merely her registered show name. It’s only used on official pedigrees and during competitions.”

“Oh...” Rich people could be so fucking weird sometimes. I cocked a brow at Iason. “So does she have an actual name then?”

Iason smiled and nodded, patting the horses’ neck. “Yes, of course. We call her, Cherry.”

I grinned and scratched Cherry’s forehead. “I like that better. Much easier to remember. Bet she likes it better too, don’t you?” I addressed the horse, and she nickered at me. That made me smile.

“I’m sure she does.” Iason moved to my other side and stroked the horses head absently. “Have you ever ridden a horse, Riki?”

I shrugged. “Rode a pony at a petting zoo once.”

The expression on Iason’s face was bittersweet.

“Really? Well then, would you care to go for a ride? After lunch, perhaps?”

I considered it for a moment. The thought of being that high off the ground on top of a living creature was a bit unnerving, but images from my childhood of cowboys and knights filtered through my head. I’d always wanted to be a knight as a little kid. I shrugged and made a noncommittal gesture. “Yeah, sure. Might be kinda cool.”

Iason’s face brightened and he gave me a satisfied kiss on the lips. As he pulled away his phone began to ring. The horse jerked her head up, startled by the sudden sound so close to her. I jumped back.

“Not to worry, Riki,” Iason reassured, touching my shoulder briefly before stepping away to take the call.

I stood there with Cherry, who’d already forgotten the entire incident it seemed and instead had turned her attention to the hay rack on the other side of her stall.

“That was Arlo.” Iason explained, slipping his phone away. “Everything is ready for us. I hope you enjoy lobster.”


Lunch was a simple, yet delicious spread of lobster rolls, a cheese and olive platter, and some kind of tomato-based cream soup with crab in it. I’d never had a lobster sandwich before, but it was absolutely amazing. The soup was phenomenal too. Didn’t care so much for the cheese or olives, but there was more than enough of everything else that I didn’t have to worry about eating them.

“I hope everything was to your liking?” Iason asked as he led me upstairs to the second floor. We were going to change into what Iason had referred to as “riding clothes.” I didn’t know what was wrong with the clothes we had on, but apparently rich people have a different outfit for everything, so I didn’t argue.

“It was really great. I’m not usually one for seafood, but those sandwiches were fantastic. The soup too.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Ah, here we are.” Iason opened the door he’d stopped in front of and we entered. It was pretty minimalist in design, but still very elegant. A lot of earth tones.

One entire wall of the room was taken up by a giant, likely custom built, armoire. Iason began to remove his shirt as he moved toward one of the doors. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room holding one arm behind my back in an attempt not to fidget. The sight of Iason’s smooth, muscular back was alluring, especially since he still had his black trousers and leather belt on. The contrast between his pale skin and the dark cloth of his pants was…uh…visually stimulating. My cheeks started to feel hot and I berated myself for taking his bait. Embarrassed, I turned my attention to the rooms various paintings of mounted huntsmen and their hounds for distraction. One of the paintings was so large that the horse in it was near life size and had so much detail I knew it had to have cost a fortune.

“Here we are,” Iason declared. I turned to watch him finish putting down a stack of clothes. “Those should fit you,” he said, motioning to them.

He turned in all his shirtless glory to go back to the armoire and I picked up the clothes.

 “Got a bathroom I can change in or should I just…uh…” I looked around, scanning the room for doors, but didn’t see any but the one we’d come in through.

He leaned back into view from behind the open armoire door, revealing just enough of the long naked line of his body to let me know he was now fully nude, and gave me an incredulous smile; both brows raised high on his forehead.

I blushed heatedly and hugged the clothes in my arms awkwardly to my chest. “Right, right, of course. Fuck. I’ll just uh…yeah...”

I turned my back to him and smacked my forehead. God I was an idiot. The guy had had his fingers so far up my ass he could have worked me like a puppet and suddenly I was concerned about modesty? I started to undress and wondered what it was about him that made my brain do backflips. I hadn’t wanted anything to do with him four hours ago, but he kisses me, shows a little skin, and suddenly I’m blushing and struggling to form words like some love-struck school girl? What the fuck was that?

Frustrated, I removed the last of my own clothes and hurriedly put on the clothes Iason had given me.  When I was finished I turned back around to find he was already dressed and watching me, hands behind his back. My embarrassment was superseded by sheer amazement at the sight of him.

I let my eyes do a long, slow pan up his entire body, taking in the view. Black on black on black had never looked so good. Tall, black leather riding boots with a subtle sheen and ribbed front panel hugged his calves like a second skin. They melted into tight black riding breeches with soft black leather running the length of the inner leg from just above his knee all the way into his boots. The high collared black polo shirt was accented with silver brand logos and fit him so well it looked like rich black paint had been poured over his muscular chest to curve along his pectorals, abs and deltoids. Rich people were fucked in the head when it came to clothes, but I was willing to let this one small obsession with changing them slide if it meant I would get to see him dressed like this again.

He gave me that half-cocked, knowing smile. “How do you like them?”

“They look…fucking amazing,” I muttered, my brain still overwhelmed by the sharp contrast of all that black caressing his pale skin.

He laughed at me and the teasing pitch brought my mind back to the present. “I’m flattered, Riki, but I was asking how you like your clothes. Not mine.”

My jaw dropped in mortification. For fucks sake snap out of it!

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” I looked down at the clothes, thankful for the distraction. “Uh, they’re great. The pants are a little tight though.”

“They’re riding breeches. They’re designed to be tight, but, just to be sure…” His voice trailed off as he strode over to me. His hands came out from behind his back and I realized that they were clad in black riding gloves, to complement the outfit. I looked away self-consciously as he examined my lower half critically. I had been staring at an attractive man in tight clothes and things had started to…swell. Not noticeably, but I could definitely feel it and I was certain he’d see it too if he looked hard enough.

“Hmm…” he pondered aloud, his voice revealing the barest hint of a teasing inflection. “You’re right, they do seem a little tight.” He pressed his palm to my crotch. I gasped as he started kneading me gently and was forced to grab his arms for stability.

His lips remained parted and one corner of his mouth curled in a satisfied smirk.

“It seems I’ve made things worse. How…unfortunate.”

I gasped and whimpered as he expertly handled me through the tight pants.

I blushed. “F-fucking bastard.”

He inclined his head. “Really, Riki? That’s how you talk to someone who’s trying to help you?”

I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore his taunt. He wasn’t helping me he was fucking with me and it was pissing me off as much as it was arousing me.

“It seems there’s nothing for it,” he sighed. “These are just too tight. They’re going to have to come off.”

I looked up with alarm. “What? N-no, no they’re fine. Really.”

He knelt gracefully in front of me, and even then he was still impressively tall. All leg.

His fingers hooked inside the top of my pants and started to work them down off my hips.

“I beg to differ. You won’t be able to ride anything in this state.” He paused and looked up, smiling contemplatively. “Well…there is one thing that comes to mind.” Deep blue eyes flicked back to me suggestively, “But you’re not ready for that ride just yet.”

He pulled the breeches down unhurriedly; looking up at me the entire time. First he pulled them to my knees, revealing my thighs and growing erection held within my boxer briefs. He pressed his mouth over all my naked flesh, dotting burning kisses and tantalizing flicks of his tongue that sent tingles of warmth shooting down the underside of my cock and up my spine to the back of my skull. He didn’t break eye contact with me once, not even when he pulled the breeches the rest of the way down. I looked away, fists clenching and unclenching to release some of the nervous tension trapped in my shoulders. He smacked the back of my thigh just hard enough to get my attention. It worked and I gasped.

“Look at me, Pet,” he ordered. I made a small whimpering sound in the back of my throat, but did as he said. His eyes felt like they were burning through mine and out the back of my skull as he started to lower my underwear. My face was a brilliant flush of crimson shame.

Before I was able to protest, his mouth was around my cock. I tried to push him off by the shoulders, but his mouth was relentless. I was impressed that he was able to swallow me so deeply without gagging. I wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t small either and in my limited experience sucking cock, even an average sized cock like Guy’s was a challenge to take all the way in.

“Iason…s-stop…” I pleaded breathily, my hips twitching as his tongue and mouth worked in unison against my hardened flesh. If he kept going I was going to come in his mouth and I didn’t want that. He said it hadn’t been a problem the night before, but I still felt the need to keep something back, to myself. It was such a personal thing and I wasn’t ready to give that to him yet, at least, not willingly. Complying much quicker than I’d expected him to, Iason pulled his mouth off me and pushed me back onto the ottoman. I sat down hard, my cock bobbing between my legs with the force of the impact. He then stood, towering over me.

He held his elbow against his chest, the top of his index finger brushing below his lower lip pensively. “Finish,” he directed quietly.

I stared at him for a moment. I knew what he wanted me to do, but I just wasn’t ready to accept it. It was too embarrassing.

“Go on,” he urged, a little more insistent.

I averted my gaze, brows drawing inward as my arousal and his commanding words fought through the overwhelming shame I felt. Tentatively I reached between my legs and grasped my shaft loosely.

“Good Boy.” His words came in gentle whispers through the still air of the room. I could feel them on my skin, even though I knew that was crazy.

I flicked my eyes back to Iason briefly. His expression was one of intense focus, but the way his lips were parted and visibly moist told me he was just as aroused as I was. With slow, deliberate movements, I started to stroke myself. I knew all the right places to touch; where to squeeze and where to twist. How fast, how slow. Like most men my age I was an expert at masturbating and it didn’t take long for me to reach the point of no return. I wish I could say that Iason’s eyes on me were a hindrance, but every time I glanced back at him and found them on me they sent the most confusing signals of arousal to my brain and my cock. Was I some kind of secret exhibitionist or was it something to do with Iason himself? I didn’t know the answer and my brain was so focused on coming at that point that I didn’t care. He could stare at me for eternity if it made jerking off feel this good. I locked eyes with him just as a strangled cry tore from my throat. A coat of semen covered my fist and thighs.

The shameful feelings from before returned. I’d let myself down somehow by enjoying being forced to touch myself in front of him. I collapsed backward onto the ottoman, panting, and trying not to think about it.

I felt Iason kneel beside me on the plush furniture, but I didn’t turn my head to look at him. I just rested my forearm over my brow, exhausted and humiliated.

“You are such a good boy, Riki. You please me more than any of my other pets ever managed.”

A confusing mélange of emotions settled over my brain at that comment. Jealousy, pride and shame spread across it, riding the slow aftershocks of my orgasm. I closed my eyes and sighed. “Whatever.”

I heard a soft rustling of fabric, then felt something soft and pliable hit the upholstery beside me. I took my hand away from my eyes long enough to see that Iason had removed one glove and lowered his pants around his hips. His hand was stroking his own erection rapidly as his eyes roamed my body. First to my spent cock, then to the semen on my hand. My stomach, my thighs, my throat and finally he locked eyes with me. It was such an intense gaze that it made my stomach do a loop.

“Lift your shirt,” he moaned thickly, his fist moving rapidly over his cock.

I did as he said, and not a moment too soon. He came all over me a few seconds later, his climax punctuated by a quiet, satisfied, groan from deep in his throat. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but he did so with a grace and dignity I knew I’d never be able to achieve after covering someone’s stomach in cum.

“You’re in need of a cloth of some sort. Hold on.”

I nodded as he got up to fetch one. It was a short trip. The armoire had a closet full of linens and towels as it turned out. He tossed one at me from a few feet away as he straightened his clothes. It wasn’t a wet towel, but nothing had dried yet, so it would do the trick.

I cleaned off and sat up.

“So…that was kinda unexpected.”

“How so?”

“Oh, you know, that whole part where you just started sucking my cock was a bit off the cuff.”

He gave me a small smile. “I suppose you’re right. Though as my property I can suck on any part of you I want, whenever I want.”

“Like hell you can!”

“Did you not enjoy it?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. He had a point.

“I rest my case.” He stood and moved to the clothing side of the armoire. “Now then, let’s find you some boots and gloves to wear and then you’ll be ready to ride.”

My eyes widened. “Hey wait, what about my pants?”

Iason laughed. “They fit you perfectly.”

“Then why did you…” My voice trailed off when he gazed at me, eyes lidded and sensual.

I stared at the floor with incredulity.

That perverted piece of shit.


Chapter Text

Iason and I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the lush green paddock behind the barn. A balmy breeze counteracted the heat of the sun, which put the temperature on the warmer side of perfect. Huge rolling piles of fluffy white clouds drifted slowly overhead.

Iason let me ride Cherry while he rode on one of his other horses; a large bay gelding named Commodore.

If the afternoon had taught me anything, it was that riding a horse was not nearly as easy as they made it look in the movies. I hadn’t moved faster than a trot all afternoon because according to Iason I wasn’t “posting” properly and he didn’t trust my balance enough to let me go any faster. Posting, I learned, is just a fancy word for bouncing up and down in time with the horse’s movements for a smoother ride, but it didn’t seem much smoother to me. Just made my inner thighs bloody sore.

I kept pestering him about going fast, but ‘Another time’, was all he’d say. I didn’t know enough about the subject to complain, though I figured I was doing pretty damn well for someone who’d just started. I’d been trying to figure out how to get the horse to move faster on my own, but apparently there was more to it than just squeezing harder with my legs and whispering “giddy-up.”

Even though we were just in the paddock doing figure eights and trotting laps around the perimeter, it was still a lot of fun. I could see the appeal riding had and why so many people invested so much money and time into the sport.

Iason pulled Commodore up just ahead of me and slowed down; first to a walk, then halting altogether. I followed suit, straightening up in my seat and firmly holding the reins down near my thighs as Iason had taught me. I brought Cherry to a smooth stop just beside Commodore before scratching her shoulders and rubbing her neck vigorously. I’d improved a lot over the course of the afternoon, but Cherry was the real expert here, and I wanted to show her how grateful I was that she was managing to interpret my shitty, beginner commands with such grace and skill. She tongued the bit and nickered softly, which I think in horse means “thank you for the scratches.”

Iason was looking at his phone, checking the time I assumed. “Dinner should be ready soon,” he said, turning to me. “Shall we head inside to freshen up?”

I stroked Cherry’s shoulder again. “Sure. I could really use a shower. You know, to get off all the dust and sweat and cum residue.” I stared him dead in the eyes, challenging him to argue.

Iason’s return gaze was more teasing than serious. “Come now, Riki. We’ve already established that our earlier activities were mutually beneficial.” He didn’t give me time to respond, nudging Commodore into a trot with commands so subtle I didn’t even see them. How did he do that?

“Says the guy who came all over my stomach like a giant fucking pervert!” I yelled after him, struggling for a moment to apply the proper leg pressure and set myself into the right posture to get Cherry moving at a trot. Iason looked back over his shoulder at me and saw I was catching up. He smirked at me before kicking Commodore into a canter and moving frustratingly out of reach.

Wanting desperately to beat him back to the barn, I tried to mimic Iason’s posture, hoping that it might be the key to getting more speed out of my mare. I’d tried nudging her at random earlier, which hadn’t worked in the slightest. This time was different though. I wanted to show the smug bastard I could do this without his help. After that my body moved seemingly on its own as all my concentration went into materializing speed out of the mare under me. My weight shifted forward in the saddle, hands loosened on the reins to allow the mare’s head more movement and, finally, after I gave her a few firm kicks with my heels just behind the girth, she took off. My initial delight over finally getting past a trot was short lived. Cherry quickly surpassed the gentle canter I’d been aiming for and flattened out into a hard gallop. I instantly regretted my decision to try and surpass His Royal Blondeness as my stomach dropped in sheer panic.

After an initial cry of surprise, a continuous stream of screams and profanities sprang forth from my mouth as I sailed up the paddock at an alarming speed. I’d gotten Cherry to move with almost no effort, but I was now focusing so hard on keeping myself in the saddle and not plummeting to what I was sure would be a grassy death that I couldn’t figure out how to stop her. Everything I tried failed.

Iason looked behind him, no doubt to see why I was screaming, but I was already hurtling past him toward the barn. I heard him yell something as I whizzed by, but it was lost to distance and the wind whistling past my ears. My panic was growing exponentially as the white barn grew larger and larger in front of the charging horse. I drew back on the reins, yelled at Cherry to stop, but nothing seemed to be working. As we drew upon the open barn door I started contemplating jumping off the speeding animal and taking whatever injuries resulted. Surely they’d be less devastating than the ones I’d get from a horse barreling through a barn at top speed. I knew the mare would realize mighty quickly that there was no open door to sail out of at the other end of the building. She was going to stop dead in her tracks, flinging me off into a wall or stall, and god only knew what kind of irreparable injuries I’d sustain. The grass outside was softer than wood and concrete.

At the very last moment, just as I was getting ready to bail off, Iason drew Commodore up beside me at break neck speed. He grabbed Cherry’s reins and veered both animals off to the side sharply, halting Commodore and drawing both horses to an abrupt halt. They tossed their heads and pranced their feet, snorting and whinnying as their sides heaved with exertion and panic. I continued to cling to the pommel of the saddle, afraid Cherry would buck me off in her agitated state. I turned my head, eyes falling on Iason’s worried face as he reached a gloved hand out to my face.

“Are you alright?” He touched each cheek, pressed it to my forehead, lifting my bangs, before turning my face back and forth. His eyes moved up and down my body, checking for any apparent injuries.

I waved my hand dismissively. “Might need a fresh pair of underwear, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Iason looked up from his examination and stared at me. His eyes were as wide as his brows were high.

I stared back blankly, though internally I was regretting my crass choice of phrase.

Commodore suddenly whinnied loudly, breaking the awkward silence. I burst out laughing; relief flooded through me as I doubled over in the saddle. Iason looked down, hand on his hip. Though he was controlling it well, through the sweep of his bangs I could see that he was laughing too.


We returned to the house to find Arlo in an absolute panic. Apparently the Chef’s wife had gone into labor after lunch and he’d had to leave for Tanagura in a hurry. This meant there was no one left in the house who could prepare meals for us. I found that highly unlikely as there were several servants, as well as Arlo himself, still left in the house, however this wasn’t regular person food that anyone could prepare. It was fancy rich person food which no doubt took a trained professional to put together.

 “I’m truly sorry, Sir.” Arlo’s head of perfectly styled black hair was bowed apologetically, his chin so low it was touching his chest. I glanced at Iason’s face and could see he wasn’t happy, though certainly not angry. Who really could be in a situation like this? Nobody was at fault; babies arrived on their own schedule, not on that of their parents and certainly not on that of their parent’s employer.

Iason put a hand up, waving off Arlo’s apology. “It’s quite alright. These things do happen.”

I could tell he wasn’t comfortable with the birth talk, however slight it was. Not at all. His shoulders were stiff, his feet offset as though ready to flee, and he was moving more than normal; fidgeting. It was very unlike him. It was sort of endearing actually. I turned my head to hide the tiny grin of smug satisfaction.

Arlo couldn’t seem to calm down, despite knowing Iason was not angry. “I’ll have another chef sent out straight away, Sir.” He then began pacing and talking frantically to himself under his breath. “Pierre? No, he’s on holiday. Andres? No no of course not, he’s cooking for His Majesty now. Felix might be able to make it, oh, but he said something about a family event... Ah! The Head Chef of Dana Burn is our standby, but with such short notice—”

“Arlo, it’s quite alright,” Iason offered, hands out in front of him in a calming gesture.

“I could just cook something for us,” I offered a bit awkwardly, trying my best to help.

Iason raised a brow and Arlo looked absolutely baffled.

“What?” I asked earnestly. I really didn’t understand what was so strange about me offering to cook. I mean it’s not exactly a rare skill. Everyone I knew could make something, even if it was only mac and cheese.

You?” Arlo gasped in mortification. Clearly the idea of anything but the finest in culinary creation being served to Iason offended the man on a deeply personal level; his face was awash with horror.

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. “Yeah, why not?”

Because you’ve had no formal training,” Arlo quickly declared in exasperation, as though this answer was so obvious it pained him to have to point it out.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Obviously not,” I replied in a mocking tone, “but I’ve never had any complaints about my food from anyone, so I guess that means it’s pretty decent.” I was a bit surprised that Iason hadn’t said anything yet. I looked at him for some sort of input and he smiled at me.

“That would be fine, Riki.”

S-sir?” Arlo stammered, his expression incredulous as he gaped at Iason.

Iason spoke to the man’s concern with a kind expression, but the warning in his eyes left no room for any further arguments to be raised. I’d seen that look before. I shuddered.

“It’s fine, Arlo,” Iason assured him. He then looked at me. “I trust Riki.”

His comment caught me off guard and I was forced to clear a reflexive smile from my lips. I didn’t know how to feel about earning the trust of someone who had ostensibly forced me into sexual servitude. Since I’d enjoyed at least some of the sex we’d had, the forced part was starting to become less and less rage-inducing, which in itself was a source of frustration and confusion. I glared at Iason out of habit, but he didn’t flinch, or even change his expression. It was still warm and accepting. The nerve of that flirtatious, over-confident, bastard!

“It’s settled then,” Iason announced, putting his hand on my shoulder with pride. “Riki and I will make our own meal.”

I turned to him. “Wait, you’re going to help me?”

“I see no reason not to.”

I shrugged my shoulders dismissively and made a gruff noise in my throat, though internally I was actually quite happy. “Whatever you want.”

Iason’s gaze became much more seductive as he brushed his hand over my collar. “Indeed.”

I shuddered deeply.

Arlo cleared his throat in a disapproving way as he averted his eyes from what Iason was doing, clearly disagreeing with the time and place his master was choosing to bestow affection on me.

“You’re dismissed for the evening, Arlo,” Iason stated in a curt tone. He made it clear that Arlo’s disapproving commentary, however non-verbal it may have been, was neither appropriate nor appreciated. I had to agree.

I smirked when Arlo shrunk in his mirror-shined wing-tips. “Of course sir. Thank you.”

Iason wasn’t finished apparently. His eyes narrowed further on the Butler. “You and the others will retire to the guest house. I do not wish for us to be disturbed. For any reason.”

“Yes. Understood, Sir. I’ll have everyone relocated within the hour.” Arlo bowed deeply and retreated from the room, his coat-tails whirling behind him like the feathers of a large black bird.


After taking a quick shower and changing back into the clothes I’d arrived in, I headed downstairs to the kitchen. Iason, who, to my continued surprise, had freshened up in a separate bathroom, was already there, leaning against the counter when I walked in. He had a glass of red wine in his hand; another glass sat on the island. I assumed it was for me, even though I didn’t much care for wine. If this had been a month ago I wouldn’t have touched something he gave me that I didn’t personally watch him pour, but the servants were still around and I couldn’t think of a reason he would try and slip me something. I was already giving him everything he wanted. I tried to ignore that disturbing realization as I picked up the wine and took a sip.

“I personally wouldn’t have picked a long sleeved white button down to cook in,” I remarked casually.

Even if it does look nice…

Iason looked down at his attire and furrowed his brow contemplatively, as though piecing together the fate that might befall his white shirt in the kitchen. “Hmm….” He looked somewhat embarrassed, which surprised me greatly. He was showing weakness openly around another person, which in my limited experience with the man, was quite out of place. “I must confess I’ve never cooked anything before.”

It was my turn to raise a brow at him. “Never?”

Iason shook his head, his face struggling to cover up what I could only assume was shame or embarrassment. I decided to take advantage of this and really dig at him. It was only fair after the shit he’d done to me. Besides, being sadistic once in a while could be fun.

Never? I mean…not even a sandwich in the middle of the night? A cup of ramen?” I probed at him, my tone digging the words in like a finger in a wound. I concealed my grin of delight as I went to look through the fridge for ingredients.

Iason sighed. “Nothing, apart from pouring the odd drink.” His stance changed to one that was a bit more confident. “Actually, I’m rather proficient at mixing cocktails as well,” he declared, head up, “…so long as there’s only a few ingredients.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “Rich people are fucking weird. Here—” I shoved a carton of eggs at him, “—we’re having breakfast for supper. Hope you like omelets.”

He held the eggs gingerly, as though concerned he’d break them. “An odd choice…but I do enjoy them, yes.” He set the eggs down on the dark granite counter top as I hunted for a frying pan. The cabinets I was hunting through were a warm cherry—A wood I normally didn’t like much; too girly looking for me. This kitchen was well put together though. The chrome fixtures and stainless steel appliances really helped give it a more masculine feel.

“Good—aha!” Successful in my quest, I pulled a frying pan out of one of the bottom cabinets and set it on the gas range. “Can you grab the cheddar cheese from the fridge and start shredding it?” I waved a hand in the general direction of the fridge as I took another sip of my wine.

He briefly opened his mouth as though to ask something, but when I tilted my head to listen he shut it, giving me a hesitant nod instead. I smiled at him and got a glass bowl down out of the cupboard behind me, setting it on the island counter. I heard him searching through cupboards and gathering things behind me as I cracked eggs into the bowl. With practiced ease I beat the eggs with a fork until they were frothy and starting to take on a more opaque look.

I moved to the stove and pan and turned on the burner. The repetitive clicks of the starter were the same I had heard in my home when I was little and a wave of nostalgia rushed over me. I’d hadn’t used a gas stove in years and hearing the clicks now after so long brought back scattered fragments of lazy Sunday mornings with my mom and dad. The memories were mostly a burry haze, but the few bits I could remember were sharp and vivid; salty bacon crunching in my mouth, dust particles floating through beams of sun, the chaotic warbling of cartoon characters crackling through the one good speaker left on our ancient tube tv. I didn’t have many memories like that. Dad started drinking when mom died and our Sunday morning breakfasts died along with her.

“Are you alright, Riki?”

I startled a little. Iason was right next to me looking mildly concerned and I hadn’t even noticed him come close. Unusual for me, because I always had my guard up around him.

“Yeah I’m fine.” I dodged the hand coming toward my shoulder in a gesture of comfort and busied myself grabbing the butter dish. I sliced off a pat and dropped it off the knife into the pan. It sizzled and snapped as I slid it around the heated pan to coat it.

“You seemed a bit dazed,” Iason remarked, trying again to gain access to my feelings.

“I’m just tired,” I lied, pouring in half the eggs. “A lot of shit went down today.” I yawned at that moment, though not on purpose. I guess I wasn’t being completely dishonest about being tired. A lot of shit had happened and I was feeling a bit drained. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but as per usual I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. His face was frustratingly impassive and his eyes were so hard to read, especially when I was making a point not to look into them for too long.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he shrugged finally, setting down a plate of…I looked closer at it. It looked like little carrot sticks, but not exactly the right color.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What…did you do to the cheese?”

He looked down at it quizzically. “Is this not what you wanted?”

“I asked for shredded cheese.” I was laughing now. “You just cut it up into sticks!” The thought that a grown man didn’t know how to shred cheese was hilarious.

He frowned, clearly not enjoying being laughed at. “I couldn’t find a grater. Will this not work?”

I took another drink of my wine and gave an amused sigh of defeat, giving up my spiteful little game. “Of course it will, cheese is cheese. I was just fucking with you.” I added half the little cheese sticks to one side of the rapidly cooking omelet, along with a few folded pieces of ham. I sprinkled on some salt and pepper then folded the whole thing over.

Iason did not look amused and moved to the sink without saying anything.

Had I actually managed to hurt the robot’s feelings? Fuck. I rubbed the back of my neck uneasily. I hadn’t thought it would be possible to feel bad about upsetting him, but I’d surprised myself before.

“Hey…” I started, tone apologetic as I sidled next to him at the sink. “Look I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just—” My voice trailed off as my eyes fell to his hands in the sink.

Jesus…” I exclaimed with muted horror. The palms of both his hands were completely covered in shiny round burn scars.

He stopped washing his hands, making a discomfited noise in his throat as he quickly turned them over. Clearly he hadn’t meant for me to see.

How had I not noticed them before? He wore gloves all the time, but he’d taken them off a few times around me. I raked my memory, but I couldn’t form any clear picture in my head of his bare palms. He’d had them off while we had sex, but my brain was always pretty fogged during those times. He was usually doing…things…with his hands. Things that I avoided looking at, or couldn’t look at because of how he positioned me. I might have seen the scars then, but in that state it was hard to be aware of most things outside of physical touch, much less remember it.

He wiped his hands off on a kitchen towel, still ignoring my comment. When he reached for his gloves my hand shot out to his arm, stopping him. Surprisingly enough he let me, though his shoulders were incredibly tense.

“The gloves…I—thought you were afraid of germs,” I looked right at him, but he avoided my gaze.

“Most people assume the same. I don’t correct them. I see no need.”

“What happened to them?” I blurted suddenly, not thinking. He recoiled a bit and I internally cursed my lack of verbal filter. I was just so damn curious it had slipped out. “Shit. I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, letting go of his arm. If he wore gloves to cover his hands up all hours of the day he was definitely sensitive about them.

He looked like he was about to say something when surprise suddenly registered on his face. He tilted his head a little and pointed behind me. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”

I whipped around and saw the smoke rising up over the stove in angry grey billows.

“Oh for fucks sake!” I cursed, rushing to the pan to scoop the smoking omelet out into the sink. I pried it off the bottom in leathery, inedible, chunks; the bottom scorched black. I slammed the pan back on the stove and growled angrily. Shoulders hung, head tilted up at the ceiling in defeat, I stood there, contemplating my next move. I’d told Iason I could cook, then burnt the first thing I tried to make him. I expected him to ridicule me for it, or at least poke fun at me as I had been doing to him. I’d kind of been a smug dick to him earlier and honestly I felt I deserved some teasing. Karma and all that shit.

“Come on,” I huffed impatiently, “let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“Make fun of me for fucking up. Come on I can take it.” I beckoned him with my fingers, inviting his insults.

He walked over to me and put his arm on my shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“I wasn’t paying attention and it burnt, how is that not my fau—” He captured my lips gently, ceasing the rest of my argument.

“We have plenty of eggs,” he stated quietly, his mouth hovering just above mine. “Let’s make another. You can show me how to do it properly, without any distractions this time.”

He kissed me again, firmer; deeper. I was going to keep protesting, but really who could argue with that?


The multi-tiered redstone patio was inundated by the sounds of a late summer evening; murmuring trickles of water from the nearby fountain, hummingbirds flitting through the air, the lazy drone of honey bees turning into their hives for the night.

“That,” I commented appreciatively, rubbing my stomach and stretching out lazily in my chair, “was fantastic. Haven’t had breakfast for dinner in a long time.”

Iason nodded in agreement, setting his wine down on the glass table as he relaxed. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

I turned toward him and my heart genuinely skipped a beat. The elegant, strong, lines of his face were being vibrantly illuminated by the fuchsia and gold reflections of the sunset, cast upward by the still surface of the adjacent pool. I silently berated myself for finding him so attractive, but it was more than just how beautiful he was that was disconcerting. I remembered what I’d seen in the kitchen. His hands…

The shape of the burns and the concentration of them on his palms made it obvious it hadn’t been some accident that caused them. They were inflicted, either by himself or someone else.

He inclined his head a little, looking at me curiously.

“Something the matter?”

I cast my eyes downward and kept them fixed on the ground. “Your hands…someone did that to you…” I looked at him slowly, apologetically, “…didn’t they?” It was more an affirmative statement than a question, because I felt I already knew the answer.

His jaw tightened a bit. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up again…

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

“My late father,” he interrupted tensely.  

My heart filled with all kinds of emotions hearing this. My old man hadn’t been too great either, but he’d never flat out abused me. “Your dad did that to you?”

He nodded almost imperceptibly, his face cold and emotionless. “Yes.”

My jaw hung. “Jesus...”

“My older brother passed away from illness when I was young. He was the jewel of my father’s eyes—proud, articulate, beautiful. A charismatic overachiever. Compared to that I was nothing more than a weak, pale, disappointment hanging on my mother’s dress.”

He took another drink of his wine and stared down into the glass pensively. I wanted to yell at him, explain that that’s no reason to abuse a child, but I sat silent, sensing he wasn’t finished.

“My father hated me even more after Leon’s death than before. I was only 8, but I was sent to boarding school nonetheless. He wanted me out of his sight.” He looked off toward the horses grazing in the paddock and a tiny smile broke his emotionless façade for a second. “I took up riding in school. Mother allowed it and was the only one who supported it—supported me. She sent money for everything. She bought me my first horse.”

I wanted to reach out to touch him, but I didn’t know if it would be appropriate so I kept my hands clasped in my lap.

“My mother loved me all the more after Leon passed. I think she feared losing me as well. What mother wouldn’t feel that way after losing her eldest child? I think that’s why my father…blamed me for her death. It’s why he—” Iason flared his fingers outward passively, indicating his hands.

The concern and pain I felt for him bled onto my face. “I don’t understand; why did he blame—”

“She was coming to a competition to see me ride when I was fifteen. Her car was struck, she and the driver were both killed instantly.” His face was harder now, emotions starting to show through the cracks in his flawless mask. I could see pain in his eyes more intense than any I’d ever seen before.

“I couldn’t be away from home after that. The school refused to keep me so I was sent back to live with Father.”

“Why weren’t you allowed to stay?” I asked.

 “I kept getting into fights, destroying property, breaking curfew… I did just about anything I could to get expelled. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t want to be anywhere. My mother was my whole world and once she was gone I had nothing left.”

“I lost my mom too.” It was as much solace as I was able to muster.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright.”

He sighed and looked at his hands, turning them over and clenching them repeatedly into fists.

“Father was always a heavy social drinker, but after Leon passed it became something of a problem. When mother died it escalated and he was drunk most of the time. He wanted me to give up riding after what it had taken from him, but it was the one thing that brought me any kind of peace.”

His eyes were glassy, though he was not crying. I knew his will was too strong for that.

“When I refused to quit…that was when it all started. He would corner me…put his cigars out on my palms so I would have blisters and burns under my riding gloves. He told me it was to punish me; that I deserved it. I became quite knowledgeable about burn ointments and I kept riding through the pain to spite him.”

I couldn’t hold back after hearing that. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He jerked a little, as though startled by my touch.

He gave an agitated sigh. “I don’t need your pity.”

My brows drew together sympathetically and I moved in front of him, reaching out in a bold move to take his hand. Surprisingly, he let me. “It’s not pity,” I avowed.

“Then what is it?” He was looking at me now, challenging me with his glistening eyes.

My heart pounding in my chest from the rush of things I was feeling, I moved closer to him and leaned in to kiss him very slowly. Just before my mouth touched his I whispered against his lips. “Empathy.”

Iason let me kiss him. Let me touch him. I took full advantage of his passivity and gently pressed kiss after kiss to his trembling lips. He sat there, near motionless as I tried to convey my feelings to him through physical action. I never really learned any other way to do it. I wanted him to know I appreciated him opening up to me and telling me all of these painful things that I could tell hurt him a great deal. It made me see him as more somehow. He seemed…human. More so than he ever had.

The failing light glinted in his hair and it made me want to see more of it lit up like fire in the sunset. I reached up and pulled the tie out, letting all of that gorgeous blonde hair cascade over his shoulders and the chair behind him. It was thick and straight and silky smooth beneath my fingers; I traced my tongue over his lips as I played with it. Feeling daring and more than a bit aroused, I bit his lower lip and tugged on it playfully before letting go with a little sigh of pleasure.

This sparked a change in him and in a heartbeat I found myself pressed flat on my back against the lounge chair. His body was pinning mine at the shoulders and his knees were between my legs, spreading them apart. A rumbling sound sprung from deep in his chest—a growl or a moan I couldn’t say for certain—and his mouth was on mine again, this time his tongue probing against my lips; teasing, licking, seeking entrance.


Iason’s mouth swallowed my shocked protests and, thankfully, my moan of enjoyment at being handled so roughly.

He growled against my lips. “I do not need your empathy, pet.”

“W-what do you need then?” I gasped as he sucked and bit gently at my neck.

“Only this,” He replied amorously, hand trailing down my body.

This tightened things low in my belly that were already getting tight as it was. I whimpered a little, suddenly finding myself unable to contain my anxious need for his body to be pressed against mine. I had a moment where what I wanted to say passed a check-point in my brain on it’s way to my mouth and I had the chance to stop it from coming out. I let it sail on through and leaned up to his ear.

Fuck me.

His whole body shuddered at this and a broken moan fell from his lips. He kissed me again passionately, his lips playing with mine.

“Oh, with pleasure.”


Twenty minutes later we’d finally managed to make it to the master bedroom; stripping clothes and furiously necking as we went. I’m pretty sure my underwear was hanging from a lamp shade in the foyer.

For the very first time, I wasn’t afraid watching Iason approach me. I wanted this. I needed it. Which of the two was more terrifying is difficult to say. Kneeling on the bed he crawled toward me, his movements fluid and graceful; a predatory big cat silently stalking his prey. I shivered, closing my eyes as I swallowed hard. My throat constricted dryly.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, reaching his large, bare, hands out to caress my calves. Now that I knew they were there I could really feel the scar tissue covering his palms against my skin. It was smoother than regular skin and felt firmer too, though that could have been my imagination.

I didn’t put up a struggle and did as he asked.

“Good boy. Now lift them up for me and hold yourself open.”

This I blushed at. I’d managed to sneak into the bathroom long enough to do some “housekeeping” down in that area with an enema I’d brought with me in my duffel, but even so it was embarrassing as all hell to have someone tell you to lay on your back, legs in the air, and spread your cheeks.  I hesitated and he reached out and swatted the outside of my thigh. I gasped, but not entirely out of pain, or even shock. Part of it, to my everlasting shame, was pure pleasure. Confusing, delicious, pleasure. What the fuck was happening to me? Had this masochism been buried deep down somewhere all along or was he creating it?

Iason narrowed his eyes on me, not giving me a chance to wallow in my self-loathing and confusion.

“I won’t repeat myself,” he avowed sternly. I quickly adjusted my position and spread myself apart for him. A smile quirked the corner of his lips and he moved between my legs, satisfied.

He kissed the inside of my thigh and I shivered. “Good,” he praised. “Now stay put.”

I was a little apprehensive and gave him an anxious look.

“What are you gonna do?”

His response was to keep eye contact with me as he dropped down flat on his stomach between my legs. I felt his hot breath ghost over my sensitive flesh, then a long slow flick of his tongue over my ass made me jolt. My head pressed back against the pillow, eyes clenched shut; spine bowed as I twitched.

I had not been expecting him to do that. I didn’t expect him to keep doing it either. But that’s exactly what he did. Over and over. He lathed his tongue back and forth, up and down as one hand kneaded my balls. I was beside myself, reveling in the experience; my mouth straining to contain the sounds my throat was pushing toward it as my body fought not to twitch too much. Turns out having a tongue shoved up your ass can be a surprisingly ticklish experience: the things gay porn doesn’t tell you.

Besides being ticklish it was also one of the most pleasurable things I’d ever experienced. And the most embarrassing, especially when he actually started using his hand to spread my ass apart so he could wriggle his tongue past my sphincter. I gasped and tightened up with alarm momentarily.

“Relax,” he soothed quietly as his hand continued its gentle movements over my cock and balls. I tried, lying back down and attempting to loosen my muscles. It was easier said than done though.

I gasped when he put his tongue back. Like, he was literally shoving his tongue up my ass. It was embarrassing as fuck. My face was beet red as I shamefully bit the base of my thumb and kept my eyes squeezed shut. I was trying so hard not to enjoy something that seemed so inherently wrong. And failing. Miserably.

Thankfully, just as I felt my metaphorical feet touch down on the path to the most embarrassing climax of my life he stopped. Gingerly I cracked one eye open. He was applying a generous amount of thick, clear, lubricant to his fingers from a tall black bottle.

He noticed me watching him and grinned at me. “Doing alright?” he asked.

I nodded loosely and wriggled a bit on the bed, my breath still heavy with arousal as it left my chest. I bit my lip with anticipation as my eyes followed his lowering hand. Good god I wanted him. All of him. In every way a man could want another man. And inside any place he could fit.

Lust clouded my brain in swirling eddies. Through the dense pad of fog I heard the arduous, satisfied moan that left my lips as his fingers pressed inside my body. I think I might have panted his name as well, but who could say for sure? I was lost in wanting him and had barely enough sense left to pay attention to what I was feeling; trying desperately to remember all of it. That left very little brain power to dedicate to pesky things like keeping track of what was coming out of my own mouth.

Bending over me, Iason’s mouth found my neck, sucking and licking as two slick fingers stretched me. My muscles clenched and unclenched without my control around the slippery digits, just as my hands clenched and pulled at his hair; his shoulders. Our mouths entwined, pressing and feeding off each other as my hips rocked along with his hand movements, inviting his fingers deeper inside. With fierce desire I kissed him, aggressive in my movements as I fucked myself on his hand. They were hitting all the right places. Breaking away from his lips, my teeth found his earlobe.

“More,” I panted wantonly into his ear.

He laughed quietly. Two fingers quickly became three as I opened to his touch, but even that was not enough to satisfy the primal hunger that gnawed at my insides.

More.” It was pathetic how badly I needed his body.

He drew back from me, enough to look me in the eyes. “That’s it. I want to hear you beg for it.”

This awakened the desire to please inside me like none of his prior punishments or commands had before. My body felt weak, yet empowered; anxious, yet relieved. It was a lot of pressure all of a sudden to please him and I looked away.

His hand came to my chin and drew my gaze back.

“Say it, little pet.”

I sighed. “Please…do it to me.”

His brows lifted roguishly and a small, teasing, smile quirked the corner of his lips.

“Do what?” he prodded coyly; quietly, as though he didn’t know what I wanted.

I was getting pretty impatient now, especially since he was adding the humiliation of making me ask him for it. I didn’t know being humiliated or degraded was something I was into, but my cock had never been harder so I suppose I didn’t know myself as well as I liked to think I did. I was having that thought with disturbing regularity it seemed. Go figure.

My eyes locked with his defiantly, all traces of embarrassment gone, and I yanked him closer to me by his hair. He gasped in surprise, perhaps even pleasure. He didn’t pull away. His eyes shone dark with lust. My mouth hovered just below his, as though I were about to pull him all the way down for a kiss.

“Fuck. Me.” I demanded with authority. My eyes never left his.

Everything started to move very quickly from there. With rapid movements he pinned my hands above my head and forced my legs further apart with his hips. He was breathing heavily and he hadn’t even entered me yet, something that turned me on to no end. Drove me wild. He was barely able to restrain himself he wanted to fuck me so badly. I could see it in his eyes; in the tense, jerking movements of his body.

His free hand squeezed out more lubricant from the black bottle. He drizzled it in thick strands over my cock like honey over toast. It was cool and made my jolt a little as it dribbled down my shaft. He used his hand to smooth it over me, over my asshole, and then applied the excess to his own cock. I gulped a little at the size of it, both in pleasured anticipation and nerve-wracking fear. It was bloody massive. I was in a vulnerable position and the fear made me struggle a little bit instinctively, but his hold on me was much firmer than my will to escape.

I felt the firm, hot, tip of him press against my opening and I shut my eyes, tightly, bracing myself for pain. I expected him to just push all the way inside in one go, but he didn’t. He did press in a little bit, but as soon as I winced, he stopped and pulled back. When my face relaxed again, he started entering again. I winced. He stopped. Over and over he repeated this process of pressing forward until I was in pain, then stopping. It was a little bit painful, but not especially so.

“Alright?” he asked softly against my ear.

I nodded.


He kept rocking his hips, in-tune with my body, my expressions, and gradually he was able to inch his way inside. The very last push got him past the tight ring of muscles and, meeting no further resistance, he slid the rest of the way inside. My eyes opened wide. I gasped. I twitched. My body bucked. It was surreal and sent silver flashes along the edges of my vision. My lower body was overtaken by an overwhelming surge of both pleasure and fullness as he filled me completely.

He stayed still for a bit as I experienced everything, his own face not entirely unaffected by the pleasure which he was no doubt feeling as well. His muscles were still tight and quivering over my body; under my fingers.

“You feel wonderful,” he panted against my neck.

“Y-you too,” I managed to reply.

“Are you in any pain?”

I shook my head. “No.”


With that he jerked his hips forward, burying himself a little deeper.  I choked out a gasp at the quick, unexpected movement.

It felt so good.

So right.

I wanted him to use me like that. As embarrassing as it was, my mind was not in any shape to complain.

He drew his hips back after a moment, then thrust inside again. It stole the air from my lungs in the best possible way.

“F-fuck, yes!” I cried. I was beside myself.  It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. The toys he’d used on me could not compare. He was hot and thick and pulsing—alive— inside me.

Again, he drew back and then plunged into me. He did this several times, leaving smaller and smaller pauses between each thrust until he was no longer stopping between them at all. This was it. He was fucking me. And I was letting him do it. Enjoying it even. God help me, but I was really fucking enjoying it.

I moaned and panted and rocked my hips against his, meeting him as he slammed into me. Over and over he brushed and pressed against my prostate and made me saw stars.

“H-harder,” I whispered breathlessly over the sound of our bodies colliding.

He grinned and took to fucking me with such abandon that the bed started to slam in dull thuds against the wall. I doubt he cared if it damaged anything. I sure as hell didn’t.

My hand fondled my cock as he fucked me; over and over I gripped and turned and stroked and pumped myself as best as I knew how. It added to the pleasure exponentially. Coupled with being filled, being fucked, I knew I couldn’t go back to just jerking off ever again. Not without a toy or something. I knew now what I had been missing out on. The feeling of fullness from being penetrated truly did round out the experience. It was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing. And it was all about to come to an abrupt end because I was climbing to my peak. Fast.

“Iason!...nngh...G-gonna cum!” I cried, my voice cracking and broken as a moan squeezed its way through my words like a person weaving their way through a crowd.

“Call me master,” he panted, voice strained yet demanding as ever. I didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Gonna cum, master!”

“Ohhh…” he moaned brokenly, and I felt him shiver. “Good boy, Riki.” He groaned, “Good boy. Come for me!”

That was it. The last straw. He called me a good boy and I fucking lost it. A strangled cry; a thousand colors I couldn’t name and a searing heat that swam through my body, crashed over my nervous system and sent wave after wave of undulating pleasure rocketing to my brain and my cock. Every muscle in my body contracted so violently that my spine bowed against Iason’s rapidly moving body. In blissful agony I pumped every drop of semen I had out onto my stomach between us.

Iason wasn’t far behind. He had unpinned my hands at some point and was using both of his to pull my hips against him with each thrust. Through hazy vision and feeling every movement as though it were in slow motion, I watched him toss his head back, a little snarl on his upper lip. Then his whole body tensed, his teeth clenched tightly and I felt the hot heat of his semen shoot inside me. A shuddering groan so low it was barely audible resonated from his body and his whole body trembled as he thrust once…twice, more. Then stopped, trembling. I’d never seen him climax before, not like that. Not from something I had done to him and, strangely, I was proud. It was such a masculine, yet beautiful reaction and I felt overjoyed in that moment to have been the one to bring it out of him.

He collapsed forward onto my body, pinning me down under his muscular frame. I felt incredibly small pinned under him. Small and, strangely, safe. Protected. Loved. 

Chapter Text

Hello everyone! I just wanted to post an update to let you know this fic will not be updated in the future as I have been working diligently on my own novel series, Ice Bound. I am so thankful for all of your kudos and comments over the last few years. I really am humbled by how many of you really love this story.