by Peter Styles
Everyone looked at him because in his right hand were two leashes. One was connected the collar of a sub, not so much older than I was who was sprawled on all fours over the three steps from the main floor to the center platform in the room. The other leash was connected to the collar of another sub whose face I couldn’t see, mainly, because it was buried deep in the cleft of the first sub’s ass. You could tell the second sub was going to town on the first sub by the way his face kept bobbing back and forth into view and the way he craned his neck to get different angles, spreading and re-spreading the plush ass cheeks he was holding apart. You could also tell the second sub was doing a fucking amazing job by the way the first sub sounded like, any minute, he was going to cry and the way he kept bucking back into the second sub’s face.
“That’s right, you little slut,” the dom yelled, mockingly, in a tone that felt very familiar. “That’s right, you’ll let him work you nice and open if you know what’s good for you.” He yanked the first sub’s chain as he spoke.
Nobody had said, but if I had to guess, that was in reference to the impressive machine that was placed directly behind the second sub, outfitted with an engine, a pole, and one of the biggest dildos I’d ever seen attached to the end of the pole. As intimidated as I was by that dildo, I couldn’t help a sliver of jealousy that lodged in my belly. As I watched both subs, I suddenly knew what I’d been wanting for a long time, and what I wanted was to be in either sub’s position.
Gay was already a hard sell for us Cubans, and I’d lucked out with Uncle Oliver being so accepting. But, more than that, more than I’d felt when I’d finally been able to come out as gay, I felt a deep sense of relief as I realized that this is what I wanted. More specifically, as I looked back up at the dom and realized that I’d been comparing him to Landon this whole time, I understood that I wanted this for me with Landon.
“Be a polite little slut,” taunted the dom, shaking me out of my thoughts as he lightly and quickly applied the crop in his hands to the first sub’s ribs and ass. “He’s eating you out so good. Make sure you say thank you.”
“Thank you, thank you, Jeremy, thank you,” the first sub gasped out.
I looked over at Landon and couldn’t help noticing that he wasn’t scoping the place out as much as he normally did when he was somewhere new. His eyes were completely glued to the scene that was unfolding, just like mine had been. That gave me hope. That gave me the desire to pause this investigation right this second and mouth off to him in hopes that he’d drag me back into one of those mysterious rooms.
“That’s right,” the dom continued, this time flicking the crop at the second sub. “And what else do you say? You don’t want to be rude, do you? Rude little boys don’t get to come, after all.”
I was distracted, just thinking about what kinds of things I could say to inspire Landon as all of this played out behind me until the slave’s reply forced my attention back to the scene.
“Thank you, Master Zane! Thank you!” The sub yelled, and, immediately, as much as I’d been somewhere else in my head, I locked eyes with Landon. Landon, too, looked like he’d flipped back into cop-mode as he uncrossed his arms, stood straight up, and moved around the circle of spectators behind Master Zane. Landon waited until Zane fell quiet again, whispered something in his ear which made the grin fall off Zane’s face, and tilted his head towards the door.
“Why don’t you two behave for Master Dave here,” Zane said handing the crop to a nearby dom who stepped up for him and took his place.
I could still hear the new dom yelling out instructions to the subs as I followed Landon and Zane through a side door and into the alleyway beside The Black Room.
12
Being outside again was disorienting after the heavy darkness and stark flashes of bright light inside The Black Room. I’d avoided scenes like this because I knew, somewhere deep down, how much it would eat at me, how much I’d want it.
We found a place in the deserted alleyway. Nico hung back, still at my side, but seemingly more than willing to let me lead in this. We exchanged greetings, I’d explained why we were here bothering him, and then jumped in.
“Why did you write the letter for Nina? That’s what we’re most curious about.”
“Had you met Nina before?” Starr asked. His eyes were piercing, intense. He seemed to be sizing us both up.
I shook my head no.
“She had Lou Gehrig’s Disease, you know? ALS? By the end, her hands shook so badly she couldn’t really write anymore. She asked me to do it, and like hell I was going to tell her no.”
I nodded, thinking of Noah after his attack, how fragile he’d been. I’d have done anything for him.
“She’d dictate it to me piece by piece. It was harder and harder for her to speak, but every word of that letter was hers. I only wrote it down.” His face was at once hard and firm at his mouth and also, now, soft at his eyes.
“Sounds like her death hasn’t been easy for you,” I offered.
He snorted harshly. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
An important thing about interviewing witnesses was that if you wait instead of leaping into the next question, they would tell you things they never meant to reveal. I gave him some time to collect himself, and then, he did just that.
“Look, I knew what she wanted to do,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I knew she didn’t want to go on like that. It was going to kill her. We all knew it. And Nina...Nina wasn’t going to take orders from anyone or anything. If she was going to die, it was going to be on her terms.”
“How’d that go over with you?” I asked.
“I didn’t agree. She knew I didn’t, but she was my best friend. I wasn’t going to stand in the way of something she wanted.”
“Had she ever mentioned anything about Nora Grant before she told you to write that letter?” I pressed.
“No, not a word. It was the first I’d ever heard about it. She was always a private person,” he explained.
“Would you be willing to testify to what she told you?” I pushed.
“Of course. That’s what she wanted with that letter. No way I’m leaving my best girl’s last wish just hanging out there. It had weighed on her, I think. Not saying anything sooner. She regretted it.”
I stole a look at Nico, his face unreadable.
“I’ll be in touch with you. If you remember anything else, give me a call,” I said, slipping my card to him.
Starr thanked us and made his way back into the dark club, the lights of the street reflecting off of his pants and shiny boots.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and leaned my back up against the brick wall. Nico watched me, trying to see what I thought about what we’d learned. It was important to tell Nico the truth.
“Nico, I need to tell you, realistically, it’s not going to be an easy thing to reopen a case based on something someone knows secondhand.”
I waited for Nico to throw a similar fit to the one he’d originally thrown when he swung at me. Instead, he nodded.
“No, no. I get it. Really, I do. But...” he trailed off for a moment before continuing, “You’ve got to understand, for me, this is the first time I’ve felt some hope for my uncle in… well, for a long time.”
I studied him for a moment, really looked at him, and realized maybe my original assessment of him hadn’t really been the full story.
“And well… I guess… Look, what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to do any of this. I know that, too. So, thank you,” he continued.
It was probably harder for him to say all of that than it was to do any of the things we’d done together.
“It’s my job, Suarez. You don’t have to thank me. Come on, let’s get going.” I kicked off from the wall and started to walk out of the alley and into the busy street.
Nico grabbed my elbow, though, and I turned around to look
at him.
“What?” I asked.
“Well…” His dark eyes skittered to the backdoor to The Black Room where we’d just watched Starr go back in.
“Tell me,” I ordered.
Nico’s cheeks flushed, but he continued.
“I’ve always heard about this place, and I’m curious.”
Oh. Well, then.
“All right. Well, I can come back later, or you can find your way back to the hotel. Or, uh, not. Whatever.”
Nico looked confused, but then his face relaxed in realization.
“No,” Nico shook his head. “You don’t get it. Not alone.”
Oh. Well, then.
I must have not said anything for too long because next he was trying to persuade me.
“Come on,” he said. “I saw you in there. You’re curious.”
“Not necessarily,” I said, crossing my arms as casually as I could manage.
“Really?” Nico pressed. “You’re going to pretend you’re not curious at all? You’re going to act like I didn’t just see your eyeballs glued to the floor show?”
“Okay, well, it’s not going to burn down, right? Hopefully.” I reasoned with him, unsure of what exactly Nico was suggesting and why he was suggesting it right now when we’d just finished learning a lot about Nina and the case. “It’ll still be here next week, but right now feels like a good time to go back and review notes and—”
Nico shook his head again, but then looked up at me slowly through his eyelashes. I wondered briefly about how his eyes had seemingly gotten darker than they already were naturally before Nico interrupted all thoughts about his eyes.
“Yeah, the Black Room may still be here next week, if you decide to come back by yourself. You seem like the kind of guy who’d be very popular in there and I’m sure any sub would be happy to let you play with them next week. But—” he jutted a shoulder forward delicately, somehow making a shrug seem demure and sexy at the same time, “I wouldn’t be here next week. I’m here now, happy to let you play with me right now.”
That…that was a compelling argument.
He was probably riding high on renewed hope and, maybe, if I flattered myself, a little gratitude. Maybe he’d been anxious for something to take his mind off the case but had felt too dejected to let himself think about anything different until just now. Maybe he was just a kid wanting to experiment with something new and maybe, just maybe, we could get to those notes later. Anyhow, at least for right now, he had my number, sure enough. I was much less interested in coming back to The Black Room then I was in experiencing The Black Room with him. After he’d pointed it out, it didn’t take too much more convincing and seconds later, I’d snapped my fingers and marched him back into the club.
I spotted Starr in the corner looking around, making sure everyone else was having a good time.
Nico went to the bar to get drinks, while I sidled back up to Starr.
“There anywhere more private? I think we might hang out up here for a while, but I’m not sure the kid’s ready for full-on exhibitionism.”
Starr nodded. “Sure. Have some drinks, enjoy for a little while. There’s a bunch of rooms in the back once you’re ready. Just make sure the door toggle’s flipped to red.”
I thanked him, and Nico and I found a spot just off-center so he could watch. He made his way to sit in the seat beside of mine, but I pressed a hand to his chest.
“Come on. Let’s take a look around.”
I led him through the wide main room and went back through a room that was completely dark. Starr said the private rooms were at the very back. Even though it was dark, you could feel the presence of other people in the pitch black. Certainly, you could hear them moaning, panting, sighing.
When we got to the rooms, I examined several of the door toggle until my good luck kicked in and I found an available room.
“This one,” I told him.
Inside, there was a collection of whips and canes on the blood-red wall, but in the center was a smaller version of one of the benches I’d seen Nico eyeing in the main space.
Nervous energy seemed to radiate off Nico as he glanced around this new room. There was probably less pressure to act cool and seasoned at this in here than there was in the public space. He seemed to hide less of his curiosity in here as he allowed himself to wander. For a while, he didn’t say much as he explored. With his back to me, he moved through the room, touching the bench in the middle of the room, picking up whips and paddles and feeling their ends. I interpreted this as his attempt to get a feel for what he was getting into, but, just to be sure, I thought I’d check in with him.
“This all right?” I said to his back as he ran his fingers over the padded inside of a cuff.
He looked up, a little surprised, almost as though he’d forgotten that I was in there with him.
“Yeah, totally.” He shook his head, like he was trying to shake off my concern and maybe some of his nervousness off, too.
“You’re sure?” I asked, a little warmed by the combination of eagerness and nerves that I could tell he was feeling and trying to hide behind a mask of nonchalance. He had a truly terrible poker face, Nico did. “If you’re nervous, we don’t—”
“I want to.” He interrupted quickly, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. “I want to,” he repeated with a calmer, steadier sort of certainty. “I’m sure.”
“All right,” I nodded and smiled briefly, just to reassure him once before I let myself slip into the more dominant side of my personality. “Well, if you’re so sure, what are you waiting for?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Strip.”
Although, I already had what I wanted to try in mind, I made a show of turning around to peruse the different tools just as he had earlier. When I figured he’d had enough time to obey my order, I turned around again to find Nico, completely naked, dark tattoos on display, looking at me expectantly.
I went to him, fisting a hand in his hair and pulling his lips to mine. I didn’t hold back, kissing him hard and deep, and he responded by opening his mouth wider and letting me have what I wanted. I led his hands to my shirt, and he unbuttoned it, letting it hang loose at my shoulders before I took him to the bench.
“I’m going to strap you into this, and then I’m going to spank you, first with my hand, and then with this,” I held up one of the smaller, softer crops, “and then I’m going to fuck you until you come all over yourself.”
He nodded his head.
“Safeword?” I asked.
“Red.”
On the bench, his chest was parallel with the floor, his arms strapped comfortably below, bent at the elbow, forearms resting on the padding, his legs parted for access and lower still, bent at the knee. His cock was dangling, hard and drooling, below the edge of the bench and I had a full view of his back, his ass.
At first, I stood between his legs and just trailed my hands over his back, watching the muscles ripple under my fingers.
He was sighing into the soft contact until my hand cracked against his soft ass cheek.
“Count,” I demanded, as he gasped. “Now. Ten should do.”
“One…” His voice was shaky.
I reached down after blow number five, not to stroke his cock, but to feel. He was still hard, and he tried to get some sort of leverage to grind into my hand.
“Fuck, you’re such a little pain slut.”
Another sharp smack earned a mewled ‘six’ and a slight pumping of his hips.
I released his cock and focused instead on raining the rest of the blows in rapid succession, admiring the hot, rich color of his skin, before taking up the crop again.
I ran the crop down the length of his spine, and he relaxed, soothed by the cool, soft leather against his skin. He hissed as I trailed it over the hot globes of his ass, and began flicking it, at first lightly, and then more firmly over the skin there.
“Please, Sir. Papi, please!”
“What do you want, sweetheart.”
“Harder, fuck. Do it harder. Give it to me.”
Crack. The crop snapped harshly against the fleshiest part of his ass, and he howled.
“Dios, Dios. Sí. Otra vez, por favor, papi.”
Again and again I crisscrossed the blows from the crop, until Nico’s ass was cherry-red, and he was pulling up forcefully against his restraints, wailing and whining. Not in English or Spanish now, just an incomprehensible mess of sounds that never quiet made it to being words. His cock leaked liberally, a spidery thread of precome oozing out and connecting him to the floor. As I gave him another swat, I gathered up a bit of the slick stuff and smeared it over his hole.
Nico squirmed and tried to lift his hips, pressing back just an inch or so to try and get me inside. For a moment, I teased him with the tip of my finger, barely grazing the silky entrance as he strained. When I’d had my fun, though, I gathered up more of his juice and slicked him up a little more before I pressed my finger in.
He barely resisted, like his body was already hungry for him. The tight muscle inside opened for me without complaint and I slid my finger down to the knuckle and found Nico’s gland just inside. I wasn’t gentle—that wasn’t what he wanted and wasn’t something I was in the mood to give. When I gave the little bulb a vicious jab, Nico’s head flew up. “Ay, Papi… fuck, Landon yes!”
Every muscles on him quivered as I massaged and tugged and prodded him, punctuating a few of those with another swat of the crop that left angry blushing splotches over his smooth skin, beautiful flaws, until he lost his fucking mind and went back to babbling.
“You fucking love that, don’t you?” I mused, wiggling my digit against his prostate so that he jerked and bucked against the bench, his hips hunching against the bench in a helpless attempt to relieve his cock.
His voice came out ragged and tortured. “Yes, sir. God I fucking love it, sir…”
I growled and worked him as long as I could, wanting to draw it out all night, but eventually I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I tossed the crop to the side and undid my pants, not bothering to get naked. I circled around to the front of the bench and grabbed a fistful of hair to lift his head so that my cock swayed just beyond his lips. He gave a plaintive little moan of need and tried to stretch to reach it with his tongue.