by Talon p. s.
Pyotr strained with all his muscles his mind working in balance with his body, watching his men. Each set of oars a nano second behind the first. They worked like a precision time piece and he couldn’t help but feel a boost of pride just then. Legs pushed and straightened, while backs and arms pulled for that extra effort. The Haka they sang out—part war cry part aggressive grunting—to kept them in focus and in time like a drum beat. Slid and pull—slide and pull.
“A upane, ka upane Whiti t era— Hi!” they all called out the final part of the Haka and took off down the river in the lead.
While the rowing strokes looked fluid from an outside perspective they were made up of four sequential elements: the catch, the drive, the finish and the recovery. And as they moved down the river the movements became a hypnotic cadence, counting in their heads with only the cox’n keeping them monitored and controlled the rudder.
As the race reached the last bend in the river, muscles burned like hot coals from a fire. Sweat soaked their bodies and stung in their eyes. The prime eight man team was in the lead, but just barely. The next two shell, another from New York and the Michigan team still keeping a close pace to them and it was time to leave them behind. Only Calon would not call for the double pace until just the right time.
The New York Rowing Regiment was drawing up beside them and that was a position they couldn’t afford and the call was made.
“Up step!” Calon called out and the men began forcing their bodies to pull harder and faster into a double time for 20 strokes. Growling burning and pulling Pyotr’s teammates stayed so focused on keeping their lead position they didn’t pause even a breath when the other team suffered a collision of oars and suddenly fell back and out of shot for second or third place.
And just as they reached the end of their twenty, Calon called for a power 10. Ten strokes of their hardest, most grueling strength and to see to it they felt it he called out the Haka once more. Giving them what they needed to keep their mental strength.
“Ka mate! Ka mate!”
And their teams all responded, “Ka Ora! Ka Ora! Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka Ora! Ka Ora! Tenei te tangata Puburu huru! Nana I tiki mai Whakawhiti te ra! A. upa— ne! A, upa— ne!”
And just then Pyotr saw the ribbon slip past them and snap as they drifted past it and cheers and rainbow flags met them from all sides of the river. Relief made his body melt in that instant and he slumped over too happy and too tired to do anything else. They had won.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Shortly after, the four-man crews came in sight— Pavle, Stefan, Theo and Noah were holding fourth place. Even more exciting was when the singles started coming up the river and Pyotr’s brother Darko was ahead by a land slide in an intense race against nearly thirty other rowers. When Darko crossed the finish line ribbon, the guys hardly gave any wait to the matter and bounded into the water.
Pyotr scooped his brother up right away and planted a deep kiss on his lips then hoisted him off his feet.
They all gathered around, rejoicing in their accomplishment. The hard training and perseverance had paid off today.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The final high was standing on the temporary platform when they were ceremoniously handed over their trophies. They felt like kings on top of mount Everest in that moment, but someone stepped through the crowd that brought a sudden concerting memory and Pyotr quickly glanced at his younger brother Trofim who had also spotted his ex partner Shay Wilks walking up fast.
Pyotr quickly brushed past Zane who’d been standing between them, but Trofim was already backing away so fast he nearly went crashing of the back edge. Trofim spun and darted down the steps and took off in the other direction, Pyotr follow down only to head Shay off at the pass. And caught the man by the arm bringing him to a stop.
Shay, tall and handsome had certainly matured over the past five years, but one thing apparently didn’t change in him. He still loved Trofim very much. It was written all over his face with an excited expression that quickly melted away when he turned glancing at Pyotr and recognized the road block for what it was.
Pain and weariness filled his eyes then, “I want to see him. Please.” It was almost a demand if it weren’t for the hurt pleading inside there somewhere.
Pyotr wished nothing more than to let these two be together again but the price for his brother’s life was too steep to not intervene. He looked out past Shay—to the crowd of spectators. Benjamin Wilks had to be out there somewhere; this was too good of an opportunity to boast about his son and to look positive in the political world. “Your father is probably looking to congratulate you.” Shay’s face went stark blank as if all will to live or fight left him. Now only an empty man stood before Pyotr and he slowly turned and walked away.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
After a brief chat of catch-up between Pyotr and Vida at the door, Pyotr and Cliff walked inside Club Pain and was surprised finding the Dominus Trenton Leos at the bar waiting for them.
Pyotr felt the immediate tension on his young lover as they slowly approached what was essential his final ‘coming out’ though it was not the purpose of their scheduled evening. Still it was something that could not be dismissed and his arm closed around Cliff to comfort him and assure him they would be doing this together. He was not alone in any of this.
Since they had begun their relationship they had done a number of things publicly. And it was often more that they were doing anything that revealed that Cliff didn’t have an active life outside of work. His club nights being his only personal escape. So showing up here at Club Pain now as a Sub and not the Dom he tried so hard to be was understandably unnerving.
Cliff felt every bit of nerve-racking adrenalin racing thru him. His stomach twisting and flipping and nothing not even the familiarity of Trenton’s demeanor eased it back any. He watched as the Dominus shook hands and greeted Pyotr, a slight shifted glance his way and that was all the recognition he got. Not that he had expected a friendly greeting in the first place but he perhaps thought he would have received more than just a glimmer from him since he was with Pyotr.
After the two spoke into each other’s ears to hear over the music that already thrummed and pounded in the club, Pyotr’s arms snaked around his waist and brought him about face pulling them together. “Keep your eyes on me.” Pyotr whispered to him and began to kiss him lightly. Cliff closed his eyes trying to escape into that kiss, but it was over too soon and he still felt as much the pretzel as he did a second ago.
Trenton leaned in to Pyotr, “Patronus isn’t here yet. Would you care to join me for a drink in my room for some privacy to start or would you prefer to go ahead and move upstairs?”
Pyotr took Cliff’s chin lifting him to look up at him for a moment. His young lover was shaking as if he were standing naked in the cold rain. “Perhaps some privacy at first would be best for both of us.” And he gave an agreeable nod to Trenton.
“What do you drink?”
“Vodka.”
“And some wine?” Trenton questioned with no hint for who the wine was for. Pyotr knew who the wine was for. It was all that was allowed usually for a Sub or Slave, just a little something to help take the edge off when sometimes the edge needed to be trimmed back a bit.
Pyotr rolled his lips in thought for a moment before answering. “Yes some wine would do well, something fruity—” he kissed Cliff’s mouth, “to go with his sweet lips.”
“Derek, tequila for me, and make a flask of Gromoff Premium Vodka and a small decanter of either a Riesling or Chianti wine. Whichever we have available please. Have someone bring them to my booth when they’re ready. And let Patronus know where we are when he arrives.”
The bartender nodded and was already grabbing a flask and glasses to fill the order. “Yes Dominus. Anything for the mouse this evening?”
The Dominus declined the offer for his own slave, Katianna and turned waving the two of them in the direction of the VIP booth on the other side of the
club. Pyotr moved Cliff to walk in front of him, a firm hand at the small of his back to show his possessiveness.
Trenton showed them in and Cliff glanced around, taking his first glimpse of the additional luxuries Dominus had keep away from public view for the first time. Off to the side Katianna Dumas, author and the Dominus’ collared Slave sat in a funny shaped upholstered lounger along with the lap top he’d rarely ever seen her without in her lap and her fingers typing away. And just like before her eyes never left her work to look at him. He almost smiled except he was still feeling those butterflies flipping in his stomach. They were still the same. He was the one changing.
“Cliff? He turned to see Pyotr looking at him carefully waiting for him to find his comfort zone and join him on the sofa. He tried to smile but he wasn’t sure it made it to his face but followed him over and as he often did slid to the floor at Pyotr’s feet and rested against his leg watching with some silent admiration as Dominus went to his little woman and spoke quietly with her. She willingly gave up her attention to him gave him the kiss he sought then went back to her typing when he came to join them on the moon shaped sofa.
“How is she?” Pyotr asked gently, not wanting to push the subject too much in her presence or for the night. Yet he had always been concerned for the two of them since her kidnapping. He had offered to council them both together and/or separately, but Trenton had declined his offer, choosing instead to handle her care privately, himself. And that alone had kept his concerns awash. Trenton too had endured the trauma and he had seen the dark pain the incident had caused the man, yet he didn’t push the matter and only had gone to visit him once since then. But even now he saw how Trenton eye’s always went back to her, some shadow still there fearful that any moment someone else might try to slip and snatch her away.
“She’s recovering well. She doesn’t dare go anywhere without myself or Diesel anymore.” He pierced his lips and glanced finally from her to him, “That’s probably best for my sake right now.”
“Trenton if you need more time…”
“Yes she and I will need plenty more time,” Trenton interrupted, “but did you think I would disregard your needs?”
Pyotr offered a half hearted smile. No he couldn’t even picture Trenton being that way or allowing anyone else other than Diesel to handle his private needs. “We won't be disturbing her?” he offered a mild shift in the conversation.
Trenton shook his head, “She listens to music when she writes. That pretty much keeps everybody out.”
“What does she listen to?”
“Everything. Whatever fits the mood she needs, but it’s usually all instrumental. Stuff I’d never heard of before her.” He chuckled.
Pyotr stroked the side of Cliff’s face with the backs of his fingers, thinking long and hard. Not so much of what was said, but more of what was ahead of them for the evening. His lover glanced up at him. He was feeling it too. Tonight was not a night for partying or dancing, it wasn’t a night on the town, it was a purging. And it was not going to be an easy one for either of them. And he was putting his faith in Trenton to see them through it safely.
A light rap on the glass and one of the club’s employed Subs poked her auburn-hair head in. “Dominus, I bring you your drinks.”
“Enter. Set them on the table.” The Sub dressed in patent leather club wear stepped in carrying a serving tray and knelt at the center table. She set out the decanters along with three empty glasses, plus a glass of ice water, then poured the first round of drinks and while she waited patiently to be dismissed her eyes shifted to Cliff and locked with his.
“Thank you. You may go Sub.” Trenton dismissed her and leaned over taking up the shot of white tequila on the rocks.
Pyotr ignored his drink at first picking up the wine instead and brought it to Cliff’s lips. But Cliff didn’t accept, he was too mortified. The auburn haired waitress that came in and served them had been none other than Gina. The girl he had messed around with some. The very one he had nearly placed his relationship with Pyotr at risk when he rode with her to the club. To now sit here, despite how he felt for Pyotr it was not easy coming out in front of everyone, especially in light of how he had acted here.
“You’re too nervous. Perhaps some practice right here before we go upstairs.” A slight nod from Cliff.
Pyotr unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out; it was already hard anticipating the evening had been too much thought to control his pleasure of it.
Cliff’s eyes glanced around, to the people just outside the glass partition, still visible which meant so were they.
“Look at me.” Pyotr called his attention back to the man who was now his lover and master.
“There is no one else that exists for you but me.”
His eyes wavered under his stair and shifted searching for the other man in the room. No the Dominus was still with them, he mentally argued back. “but Dominus, he’s—”
“Hush. He does not exist for you. You are not to look at him, speak to him or anyone else for that matter; you’re to never respond unless I tell you otherwise.”
Cliff looked trapped suddenly his eyes widened, “But—but Dominus—everyone must follow his commands. How—” He’d gotten more than a few warnings from the Dominus in the past, now that he was trying to set his tracks straight—well not straight-straight, but in the right direction—the last thing he wanted was to be directed onto Trenton’s wrong side.
“Hush.” Pyotr said it again, not once losing his patients, not once raising his voice. “Yes he is the Dominus and that does seem to strike a conflict of interest. But then he knows not to speak to you. He knows you belong to me and would never put you in a position to disobey my command or attempt to undermine me. That is part of what makes him Dominus. Only in extenuating circumstances might he break that protocol or when I say otherwise such as later tonight. When we go upstairs for our session with the Patronus, he may give commands to which you will follow, but again nothing he will say will over ride my own commands. He knows not to create that kind of conflict. Do you understand?”
Cliff nodded.
“Shall we practice then?” again Cliff nodded and Pyotr took his head and guided his lips down over his cock. And he let out a hard sigh as the pleasure of his young lover’s mouth eagerly swept over his flesh. “Mmm that’s so good, Honey.
The strong muscular build of Diesel Gentry was suddenly at the door and Pyotr’s fingers crooked several times to signal so his entry would not be an interruption. “We’re practicing.” He explained as Diesel stepped in to join them.
But the sound of the night club behind him had Cliff nervous all over again and the additional man Diesel of all people added to his panic and he began sucking faster and harder on his master’s cock to drive his other thoughts away.
Pyotr grabbed Cliff’s hair and pulled him to a stop. “Slow. Relax a bit and remember your glavar likes it slow.” And he held Cliff’s head steady moving him under his own control now, setting the pace for how he wanted Cliff to suck him. “That’s it—lick it. I’ll do the rest.” Keeping his fingers fisted in Cliff’s hair he moved his head up and down on his hard shaft slow and steady. Taking his pleasure with his lover’s mouth in stride. Like everything else he did. He glanced over at Diesel as he watched the scene and his eyes smiled. “Young people are always in such a hurry. I always have to slow this one down.”
Once he was satisfied that Cliff would not start rushing again he released his head and settled back in the sofa again, letting the climbing sensation come over him. “Our age difference has presented some challenges. I normally wouldn’t take on a lover so young as he…” He licked his lips, closing his eyes, letting the pure pleasure wash over him a moment before he continued with what he was saying. “But I could not resist him. And despite that I am twice his age we seem perfect for each other.” He took in a long deep breath, rolling his lips and let out a soft grumbling sound roll from his chest, “Hmm that’s it—” he let out a dee
p husky breath. “I’m gonna come soon.”
Cliff swirled his tongue around the head and lifted his gaze to watch Pyotr’s expression then mischievously stabbed at the hole.
Pyotr’s hips jerked and he quickly took up Cliff’s head and pulled him from his cock. The tight suction his lover had on him made popping sound and his erection twitched to get back to it. Which seemed to please his young lover a great deal. “Are you trying to make me come so soon?”
Cliff’s tongue slipped out catching a dewy droplet of saliva from the corner of his mouth. His eyes half lidded with the bratty possessiveness he’d grown so attached to. Once Cliff got started on something, especially his cock he was quiet greedy about it not giving up a single drop of his essence no matter how miniscule. He wanted it all. How could Pyotr not divulge him with such a pleasure and released his lover’s head, who went right back to what he had started and sucked his hard throbbing flesh all the way to the back of his throat in one long swallow.
Pyotr pushed back in the sofa taking Cliff head once again and began pushing his hips up pumping slowly into his lover’s tight wet mouth. He hissed with the pleasure and then let it go. Feeling the orgasm coil up in his balls then shot out into Cliff’s awaiting mouth.
“Mmmm—so good draga.” He groaned, stroking over Cliff’s head as he licked him clean then tucked his cock back into his slacks. “Good boy,” he sighed.
A silent twitch from Diesel in his direction beckoned him to step out and the stoic concern readable on his face had him concerned as well. Tonight’s session would not be easy on either of them so any concerns had to be addressed properly. He followed Diesel back out of the booth but the merely stepped out when Diesel turned to him.
“When I sent him to you, I thought you’d do a few sessions with Cliff, and yes perhaps a few scenes—private ones. I did not expect you to make him your lover.”