“I think that mask the sub is wearing has an integral gag,” Gage murmured. “I have one similar.”
He can’t see or speak. I doubt he can hear much either. That takes some trust. Landry looked for any sign that the sub was anxious but he seemed relaxed. There was no obvious tension in his frame. From his belt, the Dom uncoiled a multi-strand whip.
“Cat-o’-nine-tails,” Gage said. “Not something to be used by an amateur.”
“Will it break skin, Sir?” Landry asked, not sure he wanted to witness that.
“It could, but not necessarily. It can sting or thud depending on how it’s wielded. It’s much harsher than a flogger.”
The Dom didn’t speak but rotated his wrist until the whip flew in a figure eight, barely brushing the sub’s skin. Even in the dim light, Landry could see color building until the sub’s back and ass blushed pink. The Dom changed his strokes and the only sound was the whistle of multiple strands splitting the air, the thud of leather on skin and the increasing whimpers and cries of the bound man.
Landry flinched with every blow but Gage squeezed his shoulder, calming him. The whipping seemed to go on forever but finally the Dom lowered his arm. He untied the sub then turned him around to lean on the cross. He was hard but made no attempt to touch himself. The Dom flexed his fingers as if they were stiff from delivering the whipping then grasped the sub’s rigid shaft in one fist. The sub came instantly, splattering the stage with glistening droplets, and there was a collective gasp from the audience.
“I love you.” The Dom kissed his sub’s bare shoulder then turned to survey the audience, his gaze resting briefly on Landry.
Landry turned to Gage. “Sir!”
“I know.”
Landry swiveled back to the stage but both Dom and sub had gone.
“His accent when he said I love you…”
“British. The way he looked at you. Fuck.” Gage took Landry back to their table. “Wait here. Don’t move.” He ran toward the door leading to the changing room and bathrooms.
Landry found it impossible to sit still, which didn’t help when it came to the plug in his ass. He fidgeted, chewed his nails, ran his hands through his hair and scanned every part of the club he could see in the hope that Gage might reappear from a random direction. Three different Doms asked if he was okay. He was about to risk Gage’s wrath and go looking for him when one of Scorch’s bouncers, a man Landry knew by sight, came over and handed him a package.
“I didn’t know it was your birthday. Many happy returns.” The package was wrapped in birthday paper. “Your friends had to leave but asked me to pass this on.”
“It’s not my…” The bouncer was already striding back toward the exit. Landry put the gift on the table and stared at it like it might bite him. His relief when Gage reappeared manifested as a leap into his arms. Gage hugged him tight.
“I’m back. Everything’s fine.”
“You were gone so long! It was James Ellery, wasn’t it? He was the Dom on stage. Tad was the sub.”
“Yes. I saw them on the club’s security feed leaving by a rear fire exit. They had a motorcycle parked in the alley.” Gage sighed. “And he knew the camera was there. The bastard had the nerve to smile and wave.”
“That display wasn’t faked.” Landry was certain about that. “Unlike his flirting with me.”
“No. I’d say that was a pointed demonstration designed to tell me that they can do what they want, go where they want, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“They left something for me too.” Landry gestured to the gift.
Gage sat, putting Landry in his lap. “You should open it. Ellery has no need or desire to hurt you.”
Landry picked up the shoe-box sized package. He tore off the paper then lifted the lid. Inside, snugly nestled in a bed of shredded paper was a lucky cat. There was a gift card tucked next to it. Landry took the card, putting the box back on the table.
“An apology,” he read. “We hope this brings you better fortune than the last one.”
Gage gave a low chuckle. “I have to admit, the man has style. I assume that’s genuine?”
“I’d say so,” Landry said, eyeing the cat. “Mr. Lao will be able to authenticate it, but it could be worth a lot of money. Did you know Ellery was a Dom?”
“Yes. One of the things I clarified that day he cooked breakfast at your apartment.”
“And Tad is his sub. No wonder he was prepared to take such risks for him.”
“That demonstration on stage confirmed the trust between them, wouldn’t you say?”
Landry nodded and leaned into Gage’s body. “A huge amount of trust. They must have been together some time. I think I’d like to go home now, Sir. You aren’t going after them, are you?”
“Ellery wouldn’t have come here without a foolproof escape plan. He’s had a while to put this together. He took Tad from witness protection and avoided detection by several law enforcement agencies, all for a grand gesture. Pursuing him would be futile. Life’s too short and I can think of far better ways to spend the rest of the night than chasing round the streets of Seattle hunting a man I’m never going to find.”
“Me too. You know I trust you just as much as Tad trusts Ellery? I…I mean…I love you. I have for a while, I think…but I’ve never been in love before. Watching them on the stage…I wanted it to be us up there with a connection so deep that nothing else mattered.” I said it! Why did I say it? It’s too soon.
Gage tilted Landry’s head so he could look into his eyes. “My sweet, adorable brat. I never thought I’d find someone to love. You proved me wrong.”
Landry sniffled. “You’re gonna make me cry. You really love me too?”
“I do. No tear stains on the leather.” Gage slung Landry over his shoulder. “We’re out of here.”
“Don’t forget my cat!”
Gage gave Landry’s ass a sharp smack, agitating the plug. Landry yelped but grinned all the way to the street as applause and catcalls followed Gage’s march across the club.
“Pretty sure they all know you’re mine, now,” Gage said.
“You think?” Landry had never felt safer or more loved.
* * * *
Landry sprawled on his bed, glad to be home. “I think I must be getting old. The club was fun but all I wanted was to be alone with you.”
Gage stripped off his T-shirt. “It was noisy and crowded. We should start going on quiet nights when it’s more about conversation and meeting friends than deafening music and dancing.”
“Sounds good. I can’t wait to get out of this suit. Peeling it off is almost as much fun as wearing it.”
“And that pleasure is going to be mine.” Barefoot but still wearing his leather pants, Gage got onto the bed, straddling Landry’s thighs. He removed the cuffs first, answering Landry’s quizzical glance with a low, “Trust me”. He tugged at the zipper that ran from Landry’s neck to his waist. “You’ll have to polish the rubber—it has my fingerprints all over it.” Landry squirmed as Gage explored his bare chest, tweaking his nipples into hard peaks. “Can you get out of it?”
It took some wriggling but Landry managed to peel the suit to his waist. “I’m a bit sticky.”
“You’ll be even stickier soon.” Gage undid the crotch zipper and Landry’s ringed cock sprang free. Gage plunged his mouth over Landry’s straining shaft. He sucked a few times and Landry cursed the cock ring that prevented him from coming. Not that it would carry on being a barrier for long if Gage continued doing what he was doing. No cock ring in the world was going to prevent Landry from coming if Gage kept sucking.
“Turn over,” Gage ordered. Landry, his head spinning, flopped onto his belly. Gage tugged the suit down until he was able to discard it. When he clambered off the bed, Landry whined.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m not.” Gage returned with a cane in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d forget this, did you?” Before Landry could respond, Gage brough
t the cane down in two sharp blows that crossed both of Landry’s buttocks. Landry yelled as parallel lines of heat seared his skin and he kept yelling when Gage, having resumed his position on the bed, removed the plug, hauled Landry to his hands and knees then thrust his tongue into Landry’s hole.
“Fuck!” Landry’s mind couldn’t process the combination of pleasure and pain. He reached for his cock, desperate to come.
“Don’t you dare!” Gage carried on rimming and probing while Landry squirmed and clawed at the sheets. He lost track of how long Gage tormented him but when he stopped, Landry sobbed. He bounced a little as Gage moved off the bed and Landry craned his neck to watch Gage struggling free of his pants and jock.
“Thank you, Lord.” Landry struggled to remain in position, limbs trembling. “I’ll never be bad again.”
Gage spanked him right where the cane had left its marks and while Landry was breathing through the renewed pain, Gage thrust into him. Slick from the plug, Landry squeezed his inner muscles, clenching around Gage’s cock.
“Tight.” Gage grunted, pumping his hips. He withdrew then flipped Landry onto his back. He lifted one of Landry’s legs onto his shoulder then twisted him to the side. The new position allowed him even deeper penetration and Landry whimpered.
“Please…please, Sir!”
Gage fumbled with the cock ring, cursing. “Damn lube made my hands slippery.” He managed to get it free and Landry took deep gulping breaths. There was no way he could hold back. He came with a yell, shocked at the ferocity of his orgasm. His vision blurred around the edges and his entire body shook. Gage came too, growling through his release even while gripping Landry’s cock, squeezing every last drop of fluid from Landry’s sated body. For a while they lay there, the only sound their heavy breathing.
Gage withdrew but Landry was only empty for as long as it took Gage to reinsert the plug. “Gonna keep my seed inside you all night. Don’t move.”
Landry wasn’t sure he could even if he wanted to. He had ended up on his belly, head turned so he could breathe. He eyed Gage, who returned clutching some short lengths of rope.
“What are you…?”
“You’ll see. This is why I took the cuffs off.” Gage bound Landry’s legs together at the knees and ankles. He used the last piece of rope to tie his wrists, attaching the free end to the headboard. “There. No chance you’ll get rid of that plug now.” He massaged Landry’s ass, pressing the cane marks. Landry was half-hard again already, the restrictive bondage, Gage’s scent on his skin, the hint of pain all combining to put him in a dream-like state of ecstasy.
“I love you, Landry Carran.” Gage lay down, pulling the covers over them. “I love my scent on your skin, my marks on your body.”
“I love you too,” Landry murmured, catching sight of the line of lucky cats on the shelf next to the bed, their paws raised like they were offering high-fives.
They were smiling.
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Hard Evidence: Secret’s Hold
L.M. Somerton
Excerpt
As always, I walked the half-mile from my small apartment to Spikes, the club where I’d worked six days a week for the last five months. It didn’t get any easier, but fear and revulsion had dulled to self-pitying resignation. In my mind it was a game. Every day I climbed the ladder of success as I survived another shift, only to descend the greasy pole to get deposited back at Spikes’ staff entrance the next night. Five months of hiding. Five months of pretending to be someone, something, I was not. I paused opposite the entrance to the club and resisted the urge to check the shadows. I needed to work, and the one positive of being employed at Spikes was that I could earn good money and still stay off official radars.
Down the dingy side alley that ran the length of the building, Robbie stood guard at the back door. Most of the staff called him Bubba, but to me he was Robbie. I crossed the road then glanced up at him. He was stern and forbidding, but there was always a twinkle in his dark eyes for me.
“Behave yourself tonight, Jamie. I don’t want to be extricating your pretty little arse from another fight.”
I switched on my trademark cheeky grin as I slipped past him. “Is it my fault that the punters get excited around me?”
He tried to give me a clip around the ear but missed—deliberately, I thought. I experienced a little pang of regret. He was just my type—big, hairy and fierce. In another life I would have flirted with him, but I couldn’t afford too much attention, and a relationship of any kind was out of the question.
I trudged across the club, pushed through the staffroom door then changed into my working uniform of black leather trousers and a skin-tight latex top. The outfit no longer made me want to hide behind the nearest pillar, but I hated the pawing and groping that it attracted.
As the other guys changed around me, banging their locker doors and chattering about football, I felt so alone. If I’d had broader shoulders, I would have squared them. As it was, I just pushed my slight frame upright, fixed a grin on my face and walked into the cavernous bar, remembering just in time to add a mischievous wiggle to my hips.
“Jamie, you’re fucking late. This isn’t a bloody tea room.”
I gave Ellis, my boss, the finger and sat on the edge of a table, swinging my legs and trying to look as bored as possible.
“For that, you get section six as well as your own. We’re one short tonight. Enjoy.”
Power had gone to Ellis’ ginger head. Promoted one day and he’d already turned into an arsehole. I stuck my tongue out at him as soon as his back was turned, but inside I was groaning. Tonight was not going to be fun.
The staff briefing was short and to the point. Once the club opened, covering two sections proved virtually impossible and I had to run to keep up with the orders. The punters loved watching the sweat gleam on my arms and face. One guy even tried to lick me. The masochist who had designed the Spikes uniform got some extra-special cursing as wet latex clung to my body and chafed my skin. I was sticky with heat and spilt booze, my hair damp against my face. Bruises from stray elbows and table corners ached beneath leather trousers too hot to endure.
Muscles protesting, I unloaded a tray of drinks for the raucous crowd in a corner booth, avoiding eye contact and ignoring their crude remarks. Leather chaps and a studded jock strap might look good on some men, but the bloke sporting the outfit was built like the proverbial brick outhouse, and the gear didn’t really suit him. I cringed as he grabbed my wrist and forced me to straddle his thighs. I was held from behind and rough hands pushed my legs farther apart, giving him access to my fly. He licked his lips and grinned while he grasped my zip with meaty fingers, ignoring my struggles and protests.
“Get the fuck off of me! You do not tip well enough for this!”
“Mm-m. Resist all you like, blondie. You’re not going anywhere.”
There was no room for underwear beneath my uniform trousers, which didn’t normally bother me. Tonight, I would have happily slipped into a pair of cast-iron Y-fronts, because the arsehole’s goons gripped my arms tighter as he yanked my trousers down to my thighs. They twisted me across his lap and I forced my head around so that I didn’t have to look at his leather-clad bulge. I screamed as his hand connected with my arse, leaving a burning trail across my skin. He bent his head close to my ear, and beer-sour breath filled my nostrils as he wound a hand into my hair and dragged my head up.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll never walk again.”
The whispered words made me fight and struggle even more, but he just laughed. His cronies jeered and urged him on as I was forced facedown onto the padded bench and held there by a collection of willing hands. I caught one glimpse of a huge, purple-veined cock as he moved behind me, and my mind went blank, my body limp.
Then there was an ear-splitting scream and it hadn’t come from me. Robbie threw my attacker across a table and into the nearest wall with one
effortless heave. Fists flying, he cleared the area in seconds and hauled me to my feet.
“Get into the staff room and sort yourself out.”
I didn’t need telling twice. I yanked up my trousers then ran, leaving the chaos behind me. The dingy room felt as good as any holy sanctuary—quiet and empty. I stripped off my shirt then toweled the sweat from my neck and chest. A dousing under the cold tap shocked me back to reality as I raked my shaking hands through dripping hair. My heart pounded when the door opened, but it was just Robbie checking up on me. His look of concern was replaced by something else as he took in my bare chest.
“Okay?” Robbie was a man of few words.
I nodded with a confidence I didn’t feel. “Sure. Just give me a minute.”
He frowned. “Take ten. You’re voted in for the lockdown, so you may as well change and take a breather.”
I sighed. Punters paid extra for the after-hours lockdown and voted for the waitstaff they wanted to serve them. It was the last thing I needed. Robbie looked like he was going to say something else but turned away and closed the door behind him. I slumped against the wall and made a heroic effort to hold back my tears. I didn’t deserve any of this. One stupid decision, one moment’s curiosity, shouldn’t mean my life had to be this miserable.
“Suck it up, J.” How about those for inspirational words of self-motivation? I stripped completely and let the air caress my body for a moment before pulling on tight leather shorts. They were indecent, barely covering the curve of my arse and riding low on my hips. My fingers had steadied enough to fasten the collar around my neck and I twisted it so that the attached lead hung down my back. I turned short white socks over the top of my black combat boots and resisted the urge to count the bruises blooming on my pale skin.
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