Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings)

by Tracy St. John

  Krijero reached the entrance to the club’s main observation room. As always, the spill of light coming from the surrounding glass-paneled playrooms illuminated the circular space. The place was crowded with onlookers, most of who gathered before the large windows. Eager gazes watched men enjoy sex, domination, and submission with each other. The air was thick with the scent of arousal and masculine musk. Krijero inhaled and felt his cocks begin to fill.

  He slowly descended the ramp that went down to the observation room’s floor. The men near it looked at him speculatively as he went down, most of them displaying the feral expressions of Nobeks. Being the most numerous breed, many were without any clanmates.

  More out of habit than actively scouting for a play partner, Krijero shook his hair back off his face. His open, gentle expression immediately marked him as an Imdiko for those watching him, and he saw several pairs of eyes heat with the knowledge that the rarest and gentlest male breed was in attendance. One not employed by the club and therefore cheaper to play with since all that would be charged would be the room.

  Krijero dipped his head forward as he reached the floor, letting his hair tumble forward once more. Well aware of the looks he got, the many assessing gazes wandering up and down his lean body, he kept his eyes forward as he moved towards the closest playroom. There it looked like a Dramok had succeeded in overcoming a Nobek. The Nobek’s body was tied all over in a complicated but beautiful pattern of ropes, rendering him helpless as he kneeled. A jaw brace locked his mouth open, and the Dramok fucked the vulnerable opening, making the Nobek take his entire length.

  Krijero’s mouth went dry. How many times had he enjoyed similar pleasures with Gelan and Wynhod? Too damned many to count. The memory made something painful slam into his gut and his eyes sting. He moved towards another window.

  A big-knuckled hand on his bicep stopped him. Krijero stared up at a larger Nobek, one that looked a few years older than himself. He was a brute of a man, scars standing out in livid relief against his arms and chest, left bare by his open shirt. A very rough, daunting, and delicious creature.

  The man gave him a predatory smile. “Imdiko? Are you alone tonight?”

  Krijero bit his lower lip, considering before he answered. “Yes. I thought I might employ one of the service personnel.”

  He peered at the Nobek through his spill of hair. The man had a rugged strength that appealed to Krijero. He had the same aura of power Gelan and Wynhod possessed, an assuredness honed by years of encountering tough situations and winning through them. The man was like them … but he wasn’t them.

  Fuck. Krijero didn’t want anyone but Gelan and Wynhod. Why the hell had he come in here?

  The Nobek moved close, letting Krijero feel the heat of his body and inhale the scent of his arousal. “Service personnel, huh? You like to top occasionally, I take it.”

  Krijero shrugged. “Most of us Imdikos do. We just don’t get much opportunity for it.”

  Gelan and Wynhod understood that. Neither gave up control easily, and Krijero was no match for either man physically. However, they each made a point to periodically invite him to help overcome the other, which allowed Krijero to dominate often enough to satisfy his alpha nature. Topping Gelan with Wynhod at his side, or mastering the ferocious Nobek with Gelan’s help had given Krijero a lot of pleasurable hours.

  He just couldn’t stop thinking about them. No matter how hard he tried, Krijero’s head, heart, and body yearned for the pair.

  Oblivious to Krijero’s miserable thoughts, the Nobek trying to seduce him slid his hand over his chest and belly. “What if we fight for dominance? I’ll be more than happy to give you a sporting chance. You can tie me down. If I don’t break free in two minutes, you can have me in any way you like.” The man grinned, his expression as hungry as any rizpah Krijero had ever swum with. “But if I do get free, that beautiful ass of yours will redden under my strap and open for my cock.”

  There was no reason Krijero shouldn’t want this man. He was brutally masculine and big, just the kind of man the Imdiko enjoyed giving himself over to. The idea of being bent to this Nobek’s will had blatant heat spilling into Krijero’s cocks. And yet, he couldn’t see himself doing it. This Nobek was not Gelan or Wynhod.

  He really had made a mistake by coming into the club. Flashing an embarrassed and apologetic smile, Krijero stepped back. “Thanks, but I really don’t think—”

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, cutting him off. Before the Imdiko could turn to see who had grabbed him, the grip jerked him around. He faced the glowering expressions of Gelan and Wynhod.

  Krijero’s legs wobbled beneath him even as his brain tried to overcome the surprise. His heart seemed to stop dead in his chest.

  Gelan’s fangs were down as he snarled, “Explain yourself, Krijero.”

  Behind him, the Nobek Krijero had been talking to growled, “Who the fuck are you? He was speaking to me.”

  The Imdiko didn’t dare look away from his lovers. Not when they both bared fangs and looked with clear murderous intent over his shoulders at the other man. No one would ever think of Gelan as a Dramok in that instant. He looked like a rabid Nobek ready to rend anyone in his path.

  Gelan said, “This is our intended Imdiko.”

  Every bit as animal as his clanmate, Wynhod warned, “And don’t say a word about an unclanned man is a free man. This Imdiko is not free to entertain others, and he knows it.”

  The other man said nothing. Gelan and Wynhod continued to stare, their pupils slitted and growls rumbling from their chests. Krijero flushed as he saw everyone nearby watching their drama and was glad his hair concealed most of his overly warm face.

  Apparently the other Nobek backed off, because two pairs of burning purple eyes turned to stare at him. Krijero blanched under the angry attention and hunched his shoulders. This was bad. Very bad.

  Gelan told him, “I will have your explanation, Imdiko, but we will go somewhere a little more private for you to give it to me.”

  With that, he yanked Krijero towards one of the doors between the large windows that looked into the playrooms. It opened, granting them access into the well-lit corridor that led to the playrooms and recovery rooms. Both men shoved Krijero inside the hallway. The door shutting behind the Imdiko, leaving him alone with Gelan and Wynhod, sounded like doom.

  Chapter 10

  Gelan pushed Krijero up against the wall. He and Wynhod stood in front of the Imdiko, their stares livid.

  A movement at the corner of Krijero’s eye alerted him to the service Imdiko attendant heading towards the group. Gelan and Wynhod turned to fix the interloper with twin glares. The young man paused uncertainly. He barely looked to be clanning age.

  Gelan’s fangs folded away. He even managed an utterly reasonable tone as he addressed the pleasure club’s employee. “A moment, please. We need to have a private conversation.”

  Even as civilized as Gelan sounded, the threat he posed was unmistakable. The service Imdiko swallowed visibly. “Um, Nobek—”

  “I’m a Dramok, boy.”

  The Imdiko blinked, but he didn’t challenge Gelan’s assertion. “Yes sir. I have to report any abuses to management—”

  Wynhod pulled out his territory police identification off his belt and showed it to the youth. “We’re law enforcement, Imdiko. This man will not be harmed, merely disciplined. Please step back and we’ll let you know if your assistance is required.”

  Such identifications were nearly impossible to counterfeit, and the boy seemed suitably impressed. “Yes sir.” He turned and hurried away, leaving Krijero alone with his irate lovers.

  As their attention returned to him, the Imdiko had to ask, “How did you know I was here?”

  Gelan smirked, but there was no real humor in his expression. “We got to your complex in time to see you leaving.”

  “You’ve been following me the entire time?”

  “Of course. What did I tell you about the avoidance tactic, Krijero?”
His eyes narrowed.

  Knowing anything he said would not save him, Krijero muttered, “I need time to think.”

  Wynhod scowled. “No you don’t. You think too damned much. That’s why you’re so fucking miserable.”

  Krijero decided since he was already in trouble, there was no point in holding anything back. Letting his own anger and pain show, he spit out, “You had no right telling that Nobek I am your intended Imdiko.”

  Gelan’s face twisted into a dangerous grin. “Why not? You are my intended Imdiko, stubborn bastard that you are.”

  “I’m not going to clan!”

  “Maybe not. But you’re also not seeing other Dramoks or Nobeks.”

  “You don’t have the right to stop me from doing so.”

  Gelan’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted just the same. His voice came out very soft. “Really? Are you absolutely sure about that?”

  The bruising grip on Krijero’s shoulder eased. Gelan and Wynhod’s hands stroked all over Krijero’s body, as gentle as they’d been the night before. One of them opened his shirt at the resealable seam that ran down the front. Fingers, lips, and tongues wafted over the exposed skin of face, throat, chest, and stomach. The Imdiko would have been lulled by the tenderness if it hadn’t been for the hard light in their eyes. The mix of kindness and threat aroused him, though he tried not to let that happen. However, the Dramok and Nobek would not be denied, and Krijero’s cocks swelled in response to their touches.

  Wynhod’s breath warmed the Imdiko’s ear, making him shiver as the enforcer spoke. “Did you want that other Nobek we caught you with?”

  Krijero didn’t dare lie to him. “No. I was stepping away when you got there.”

  It was Gelan’s turn to question. “Do you want to be with any other Dramok?”

  “No.”

  Wynhod again. “Who do you want to be with, Krijero? Who do you want to share this beautiful body with?”

  Krijero began trembling all over. He didn’t want to tell them the truth. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from admitting, “You two.”

  Gelan: “And no one else?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want us to leave you?”

  Misery so great that it choked his voice filled Krijero. “You will, eventually. Or you’ll want to if I agree to clan.”

  Gelan sighed. “No, we won’t. However, there’s been no way of convincing you of that so far.”

  Wynhod said, “So let’s deal with the here and now.”

  A hand cupped Krijero’s crotch, finding his swollen cocks and rubbing to make the Imdiko rise on his toes as carnal heat filled his gut. Another hand plucked at his nipples, sending brighter pulses of excitement down. His thoughts were breaking apart, getting lost in a haze of need.

  Gelan asked, “Should we walk out right now and leave without you?”

  Even as his groin lit in ferocious arousal, Krijero’s heart filled with pain at the Dramok’s words. His voice came out in a sob. “No. I don’t want that.”

  Wynhod said, “But you’ve messed up tonight, haven’t you? First running away from us, and then coming in here. You’ve caused offense, Krijero.”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to be punished, don’t you?”

  They were going to turn away. Disappear. Krijero couldn’t bear the thought. “Don’t leave me alone tonight,” he begged.

  Gelan’s gaze was kind even as he warned, “You’ll have to give yourself up to discipline then, Imdiko. I think you need a harsher lesson than the ones we’ve given you in the past.”

  Krijero felt a wash of terror at those words. But if he was forced to go home by himself tonight, left in that terrible isolation, that awful emptiness, he might never recover. Not this time.

  He’d wanted to end things before it became too late to save himself from destruction. Now he knew that time had already come and gone. He was lost. Whatever Gelan and Wynhod had in store for him, it couldn’t be worse than being alone again.

  Krijero bowed his head. “All right. I’ll accept whatever you wish.”

  Gelan gripped his chin and pushed his hair back, making Krijero look him in the eye. “We have your complete consent, Imdiko? Any punishment we deem proper?”

  A tear slid down one of Krijero’s cheeks. He didn’t care. “Just don’t leave me.”

  Wynhod wiped the tear away and kissed where it had been. “That will never happen. But you will pay dearly for your actions tonight.”

  Krijero nodded. He knew he would be made miserable in the immediate future, but all that mattered was he wasn’t going to be alone yet.

  Gelan took one arm and Wynhod the other. Krijero was so relieved that he didn’t immediately notice they weren’t taking him back out into the club’s main viewing room. Instead, they led him down the hall.

  They came upon the Imdiko attendant around the corner. Gelan asked, “Is there a bondage and punishment room available?”

  The Imdiko looked at him and Wynhod warily. “Yes, Dramok. The one with the torture plank and restraints has just been cleaned.”

  “That would be fine.”

  “Right this way.”

  It finally registered to Krijero what was going on. His lovers were not taking him out of the pleasure club; they were going to use one of the rooms.

  As he gaped in surprise, the service Imdiko led them into another hall and stopped before a closed door. Gelan pulled out his handheld and touched it to one the Imdiko offered. A beep sounded to confirm payment.

  They were going to punish him in front of an audience. As the attendant punched in the door’s code to let them into the playroom, he shot Krijero a sympathetic and worried look.

  Before letting them in, the youngling asked Krijero, “Imdiko, is this in accordance with your consent?”

  Krijero’s stomach clenched. He didn’t want to be disciplined for such a serious infraction in front of a crowd, but if he refused Gelan and Wynhod might walk out on him. He knew he couldn’t handle that. Just the thought of it was worse than the reality of when Pertak left him.

  Sagging in their grips, Krijero mumbled, “I give my full consent.”

  The other Imdiko nodded. “In that case, enjoy yourselves.” His tone said he thought Krijero’s chances of that were extremely dubious. Krijero was inclined to agree.

  The door opened and Gelan and Wynhod pulled him into the brightly-lit playroom.

  * * * *

  Krijero looked at the room with a sick feeling. It was one of the few he’d never been in. It had been filled with hardcore equipment and looked more like a torture chamber than a place to play.

  After all, the bench in the room was labeled a torture plank. It appeared every bit like its name, what with the chains, bindings, and cockring attached to it. The harness hanging from the ceiling overhead, a complicated contraption of black leather and metal, was no less terrifying. The light in here seemed overbearingly bright, showing the Imdiko way too much detail of the punishment and restraint devices hanging on the walls. He knew the excess illumination, along with the seemingly unbearable heat in the room, was more a result of his growing terror rather than the actual level of light and temperature. That knowledge didn’t make him feel any better.

  Gelan asked in a quiet tone, “Are you still willing to make this right between us, Krijero?”

  The Imdiko saw that both his companions were watching him carefully. If he balked, they wouldn’t go through with the punishment. But they might leave, and he was no longer strong enough to let that happen.

  He stared down at his scuffed traction shoes, not wanting to look at the torture plank or harness. “I surrender to your discipline,” he whispered.

  “Strip.”

  Trying to control his trembling, Krijero undressed. His lovers hovered close, steadying him when his balance was threatened as he lifted his legs in turn to remove shoes and pants. They took his clothing from him and folded it to lie neatly on nearby shelves.

  When he stood naked, shudderin
g despite the seeming heat of the room, Wynhod ordered, “Straddle the plank.”

  Krijero walked over to the wooden horror. Stepped over it with one long leg. Sat down. The pitted wood ground hard against his ass. This piece had not been made for comfort. He looked at the rings and chains and other things that were embedded in the horizontal surface and swallowed. Unable to look at it anymore, he lifted his face to discover the big window only a few feet in front of him. A sea of faces swam out of the dark viewing room. Several, maybe dozens of men out there gathered to watch him receive punishment. Krijero hunched and lowered his face again, letting more hair fall forward to hide his burning face.

  Gelan’s deep voice sounded over his head. “Harness.”

  A soft whirring noise let Krijero know the harness was on its way down. Through his hair, he saw the tangle of straps and metal descend before him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Hands worked the leather around him, attaching him to the harness. The straps were thick and stiff, also not meant for comfort. One crossed over his chest and tightened beneath his armpits. Fingers ran between the leather and Krijero’s skin.

  “Is it interfering at all with your breathing?” Wynhod asked.

  Krijero couldn’t find his voice. He managed to shake his head.

  Another strap wound around his elbows and wrists, pinning them behind his back. Tension was applied to lift his arms away from his body. A warm hand rubbed over his shoulders. “Any pain here?” Gelan asked. “Too much strain?”

  Krijero shook his head again. The straps were rough, almost abrasive against his skin, but they weren’t threatening to cause him any injury.

  Another strap just below his chest, cinched as carefully as the rest. There was a pause.

  “Lean forward until the harness holds your weight.”

  Krijero did as he was told. He cracked his eyes open to see the bench lay barely a foot below his face. The straps had tightened against his chest, but they were well placed, not interfering with his breathing at all. He panted anyway. With only his legs free, he was damned near helpless.