Author's webpage: http://www.squidge.org/~theforest/legion/legion.html

Author's disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be, and I just had to live with the disappointment. No money - don't I wish! - and no harm intended.

Author's notes:

hello my baby, hello my darling, hello my ragtime gals....

Hi! Hi!

Well, I've made the big move, gotten the new computer, and have settled down in the new digs. What was the first thing I did? Yep, you got it - go on a writing binge from which I've just surfaced.

You wouldn't believe some of the things I've written. I don't, and I'm the one who did them! Some will go into Zines - hey, TACS! I've got that sequel ready for you! - some will be posted as the betas finish. (TY Vik and Cara for the fast one on this story). Some are in other fandoms. And all of them, for reasons that escape me, are PWP kink, leading off with this new story in My Too Hot universe.

Be patient with me those of you who love nice, long meaty stories. I'm working on the sequel to Sanctuary as we speak, and have serveral other long angsty ones lined up for their turn at the computer.

In the meantime, enjoy!

Fox Fire

Eyes aimed unseeingly at the page in his lap, Blair murmured at sentinel level, "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Jim whispered back, his voice barely a promise of sound in the quiet room. "But we've been over this, Chief. If we're going to help Lady Thea find who's blackmailing her guests, this is our best shot."

Bending his head over his book so that his hair would obscure his expression from a casual observer, Blair admitted, "I know, I know. I couldn't think of anything else that would protect the privacy of her guests and still catch the bastards, either. But I really don't like this. For starters, I feel like an idiot in this outfit."

"It's not as though you haven't been undercover before," Jim said patiently. "And some of the clothes in your wardrobe are more outrageous." With a hint of a lecherous grin in his voice, he added, "Besides, I think you look sexy."

Sighing, Blair admitted that if Jim were the only one who could see him, he'd probably feel sexy. The white satin shirt slithering over his chest was incredibly sensuous, and the full, puffy sleeves caused the material to caress him every time he moved. He wouldn't have left the top three buttons undone, though, since a wrapped package was more enticing to Jim, and he probably wouldn't have tucked it into the skin-tight black leather pants he wore, either, because the last thing he needed was the sweet pull of the satin over his maleness. As tight as the pants were, underwear had been impossible and between the soft grip of the leather and the satin, he was half-hard despite the tension eating at him.

The boots were the kicker, he decided, internally wincing at the pun. He could have coped if he hadn't had to wear the knee high black jack-boots. Without them the outfit was merely exotic; with them, it became the costume of a circus performer - the lion-tamer. A sudden thought made him smile, and he ruffled the short dark hair of the head resting on his lap. Make that panther-tamer.

Not that Jim wore anything to give that impression. In fact, all he was wearing was an old, old pair of jeans that clung to him like a summer breeze, showing off his long legs to perfection. But with his beautifully muscled back to the room, those denim-clad assets curled under him, he was the very image of a contented cat purring from being petted. Only the heavy chain that circled his neck at one end and draped over Blair's hand at the other warned he wasn't a tame kitty, but rather a big cat to be treated with respect.

Which made him a mouth-watering challenge for some of the people who would be staying at Lady Thea's bed-and-breakfast this evening. That, Blair realized abruptly, was the crux of the matter. Jim was right; he did own more theatrical clothes than these, and as an anthropologist, had many times worn (or not worn as the case may have been) whatever was appropriate for the culture he was studying. Being undercover wasn't that different.

What was different was that by being 'in character' in the public rooms at this particular B-N-B, they were consenting to be part of the scenes of the other guests. Jim was going to be ogled; more than ogled. He was going to be the visual target of anything with hormones and subject to more speculation than who was going to win the next presidential election. And while Lady Thea had an iron-clad law about not touching what wasn't yours without permission, she couldn't control the possibility that someone would risk being banned from her establishment. Either the culprit wouldn't care as long as they got their hands on what they wanted, or they simply would hope to get away with it.

His lover, his own slut, was going to be groped by strangers, and that Blair didn't like one bit. In fact, he out-and-out hated it, his fierce possessiveness catching him off guard and leaving him even more unsettled.

"Chief?" Jim questioned softly.

"Huh?"

"You need to ease up on that chain." The words were gentle, without a hint of rebuke. "We're supposed to be mellowing out here, showing off a little to set the stage."

"And it's hard for you to check the place out with your senses if they keep locking onto me because I'm agitated," Blair added ruefully. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then deliberately puffed at a strand of his hair in exasperation as he loosened his white-knuckled grip on the metal links. "Okay, okay - any luck so far? Any electronics where they shouldn't be?"

As if to comfort him, Jim nuzzled his cheek into Blair's thigh, the arm draped over his lap idly rubbing in unconscious appreciation of the leather. "No cameras or microphones. The Lady will be grateful; that makes it unlikely the black-mailer is a member of her staff."

"So we have to watch for them being placed." He looked around the very comfortable, very ordinary looking living room. "You said from the camera angle on that one she showed us that it had to have been shot from the bookshelf next to the fireplace. Think they'll be bold enough to do it with us sitting here?"

"But the victims were also taped in the rec room, the playroom downstairs, and the outside pool area," Jim pointed out. "Scenes can happen anywhere, so they're either placing multiple cameras or carrying one and taking advantage of the participants', uh, distraction, to place it."

"Either way takes balls," Blair murmured, noticing for the first time the room wasn't as ordinary as he thought. Here and there, discreetly set into the heavy wood paneling or inserted as part of the decor, were metal hooks and rings, velvet ropes, and reinforced ribbons. He also spotted other useful items: several decorative vials at the sideboard next to the double doors, filled with what he would bet was either edible oil or body paint, flower arrangements on the mantel complemented with feathers, and an old fashioned woodbox by the fire that had more than kindling in it - the switches and paddles looked vicious. Were the other public areas as judiciously decorated for the tastes of her guests?

Eyes closed to use other senses better, Jim either didn't notice his distraction or it had taken less time than he'd thought. Blair had to mentally scramble to get back to their conversation when his lover said, "What took balls was coming forward to Lady Thea to tell her about the blackmail. If they thought she was behind it, they were asking for the beating of their lives by accusing her. If they thought she was a victim as well, what did they expect to her to do? Go to the cops?"

Finally smiling, Blair said, "Well, she did. Sort of. And she did the hard part herself by sitting through the tapes and correlating the events in them with the guests staying here until she had some suspects. Thanks to her 'special birthday invitation,' everyone who had the opportunity to make tapes is here now."

"I'd hate to be the blackmailer." Jim sat a little straighter, as if memory were inspiring him. "He or she might not go to jail, but Lady Thea will give them a taste of what real punishment is, and she has good contacts in all the communities on both coasts. Whoever it is will never be welcome at any club or private affair for the rest of their lives."

Jim turned his head toward the doorway leading to the stairway to the east wing of the old mansion. "We're attracting some serious attention here. If you're going to put up a 'no trespassing' sign on me, we'd better do it now before everyone starts getting into their head space. Easier that way."

Jumping guiltily, Blair stroked the bare shoulder in apology. "I'm that transparent?"

Stretching up, Jim branded him with a hot, possessive kiss, then drew away barely enough to be able to brush his lips over Blair's suddenly swollen ones. "Only to me, and you know I love it. And we've got Lady Thea on our side. She knows we're strictly exclusive and private; she'll help."

"You just keep in mind I'm not acting," Blair mock-growled, nipping at the reddened lower lip. "Mine."

"Yours," Jim agreed, then made of show of reluctantly sinking down into position. "Mr. & Mrs. are coming down the stairs."

Changing gears hastily, Blair searched through his mind for faces to go with the pseudonyms Lady Thea privately used to identify who would present. "Middle-aged married couple?" he asked.

"Been experimenting for a while, but now that their kids are out of the house, they're easing into something more serious. Easing in very slowly; they're dressed for a middle-classed weekend getaway," Jim agreed. He tilted his head slightly and warned Blair, "She sounds slightly homophobic. Her husband is warning her that the Lady is intolerant of intolerance."

Blair laughed quietly. "Bet she either won't be able to look at us or won't be able to tear her eyes away."

"Just you remember that looking is all anyone is allowed to do." Not sure if that was a warning or a reassurance, Blair frowned slightly, but before he could say anything, Jim added, "The Bitch and the Brat are right behind them. Trouble - they're arguing."

Unwillingly diverted, Blair said, "Just as well. From what we've been told they're the pair most likely to push to the edge. We'll start with them and hopefully won't have to fend off anyone else."

At Jim's nod of understanding, he stood as they came into the room, giving Jim a casual pat on the head and saying absently, "Stay!" He coiled the free end of the heavy chain onto the seat he'd just vacated and carefully stepped over his lover, eyes still on his book as if most of his attention were on it.

Going into the nearby kitchenette for a glass of iced tea that he didn't want, he kept up the facade of a man intent on what he was reading while really listening with his whole body to the room behind him. Mr. & Mrs. were whispering and giggling in the love seat by the fire, Bitch was sitting in the window seat muttering to herself, and Brat was wandering around the room, apparently aimlessly.

"It'll take her less than two minutes," he thought to himself. It actually took three, all of which felt like hours, but then he heard her coo, "Aren't you a pretty boy."

There was a rattle of chains, and a softly snarled "Back off," that carried easily throughout both rooms.

Somehow he managed not to rush right out, but waited, automatically pouring the tea. When he heard, "Now, now, is that any way to treat someone who just wants to pet you?" he picked up his drink.

"I said, back off!" Jim's growl was accompanied by a metallic chiming that told Blair he was standing up.

"Come on, pretty boy, don't be this way. Mamma isn't going to hurt you."

Walking back into the room at a steady pace, Blair set both glass and book on the table by his chair, and said clearly, "My Own, you did not have permission to move. Sit. Now, please."

Gaze burning at the petite bleached blonde in virginal white in front of him, Jim tried to inch past to do as he was ordered, but she immediately blocked his path. He rumbled deep in his chest, but froze, apparently waiting for direction from his 'trainer.'

*Good move,* Blair thought approvingly. *Not backing down, but letting every one know you're obedient to me.* Stifling a smile, he said aloud, "I see your problem."

Walking over to stand by his lover, he told Brat, "Please move away; if he strikes at you, I'll have to discipline him." Then Blair changed his tone, using the one that told his students he was dead serious. "I've barely gotten him to the point where I can bring him out in public, and I won't have you undoing months of work because your mistress can't control you."

"Hey, wait a minute here." Bitch spoke up from the window seat, turning to face them and planting her red spike-heel shoes with unnecessary force on the carpeted floor. "If you can't trust your pet, you shouldn't have brought him out." She artfully threw back her long black hair, glaring at their little tableau with what looked like sincere irritation.

Without looking away from the dare and delight in Brat's gray eyes, Blair said evenly, "He's not a pet - he's a Wild Thing that tolerates my chains because he trusts me. You don't poke a panther then complain when you get clawed; I'm telling you again, move away."

"Lady Thea...." Mrs. began hesitantly.

"Knows full well what I'm trying to accomplish here and has given me her full approval." Stepping in front of Jim, he raised his voice enough that Bitch would get the rest of his message. "And her promise that everyone will comply with my directives concerning this Wild Thing or they will be asked to leave. Immediately. No exceptions."

Bitch made a face that marred her exotic oriental looks, but she ordered bluntly, "Cunt, get over here now or spend the rest of the night in your room - alone."

Not looking in the least bit repentant or cowed, Brat sauntered away, saying loud enough for everyone to hear: "I just wanted to pet him."

"Now that sounds like a good idea to me," a new voice lilted, its feminine tones so syrupy that bees would turn and run from the threat of diabetic overdose. The woman Lady Thea had christened Movie Mistress because she looked and acted like the average person's misconception of what a dominatrix was strode into the room as if she owned it, two young men in gold lame thongs trailing after her on tiny gold chain leashes. Despite not being that handsome, both of them had the vacuous look of self-centered jocks who did little more with their time than work out with weights and pose to be admired.

"Where did she find them?" Jim murmured so softly only Blair could have heard. "Open auditions at muscle beach?"

"Don't make me laugh," Blair warned, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from it. "Spoil my image here." A moment later he didn't need the discouragement because she strutted up to him as if she were on a Las Vegas runway, reaching in the general direction of his head.

Jim openly glared at her, one arm going around his lover's waist to pull him back into his body. "No." His tone was lethal, and Blair backed it with a dark stare that had no give in it.

Regardless, he said mildly enough, "You might want to listen to him. His kind is very territorial, to the point that the most serious consequences won't stop him from defending what's his."

"Aren't you the one supposed to be in charge?" she asked archly, eye brow up.

"I am. Don't you forget it." Turning his back on her outraged expression, he cupped Jim's cheek in one palm, "Easy, My Own, easy." Jim didn't relax in the slightest, telling Blair clearly that she wasn't taking the snubbing very well. Stroking lightly with his fingertips, he added, "Look at me. Now, please."

Jim obeyed, though Blair could tell he still had his other senses focused on the potential threat behind them. Deliberately, persuasively, he tried to put all his love and trust into his eyes, reminding his lover without words that this was just a game, just an image they wanted other people to buy into for their own reasons. Whatever lay between them was immune to some harridan's ire or a bored girl's attempts at manipulation.

It worked to calm him, worked too well. The ice-blue of Jim's eyes flared, taking on an almost eldritch fire that burned all the way into Blair, leading him like foxfire deep into the memory of the dark passions and pleasures they both knew well. He grew hard, achingly hard, and had no need to look to know that his partner was erect too. Jim leaned into the palm holding him, turning his head just enough to capture Blair's thumb, drawing it sensuously, provocatively into his mouth. He would have taken his lover up on that offer/request then and there, forgetting the audience and the true reason why they played, if a softly murmured, "Oh, my, god," hadn't broken the unnatural silence owning the room.

Both of them were jarred back to reality. Trapped by the persona they had created, they had no choice but to consciously carry on what they had unintentionally started. "That's it, My Own," Blair said, surprised how normal his voice sounded. It should have, at least, been thick and breathless. "That's it."

From the doorway he heard, "Have you ever seen a dick that size outside of a porno flick?"

Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the Bobsey Twins had made their appearance, and were standing staring at Jim's crotch with undisguised lust. A glance down told Blair that his lover's hard-on was not only straining the front of his jeans in an enormous bulge, but that the head of it was arrogantly thrusting past the loose waistband of them, the long shaft allowing a good two inches to show. "Fuck," he muttered for Jim. "Can't let this slide or they'll be all over you all night."

"Dominance," Jim answered, his lips barely moving.

The hint was all he needed; Blair effortlessly slipped into his role. "I didn't tell you to get hard, My Own," he said sternly. "This isn't the time or place."

Jim didn't back down; if anything, his eyes got hotter, and the feminine member of the Twins gasped as if she'd just been entered.

"Very well." Not knowing what else to do, but compelled to mark Jim as his and his alone, he unclipped a short length of the chain from the end of the one around his lover's neck. Threading it through the loops of the faded jeans as if it were a belt, he said, "If you won't rein yourself in, I will." When the links were tightly cinching Jim hips right underneath the head of his cock, Blair snapped it in place. "That remains until I say you may have relief, understood?"

This time it was the male Bobsey that gasped, the sound nearly identical to his ersatz twin's. Too late Blair realized that he had taken the wrong step. Jim would be on display now, the starving eyes on him feeding his exhibitionist streak, keeping him seriously aroused instead of letting it fade under the discomfort of the metal as Blair had intended. He mentally fumbled for a way to back out of the situation he had created for them, but Jim said quietly, "Thank you," letting him know he could handle it.

Helplessly Blair pushed down his lust and worry, schooled his face to show unconcern, and ordered, "Sit, now." He casually picked up his book, opened it to the bookmark, and began pretending to read, hand automatically going to the head on his lap. With an audible sigh, Jim settled comfortably on one hip, legs stretched out to the side so the heat from the fire tickled his toes, and nuzzled into Blair's thighs. The little act nearly coaxed a smile from Blair; all his lover needed was a tail with the tip of it twitching to be the very image of a patiently hunting cat.

There was another small silence colored only by the crackle of the fire and sweep of the wind outside, then the female Bobsey said, "Oh, damn, why do we miss all the fun stuff?"

"If you hadn't changed your mind three times about what we were wearing we would have been down here sooner," Male Bobsey snapped.

"First impressions are important," she snapped back, smoothing down the black suede tunic she had on over skin-tight black biker shorts, identical to what he wore. "You have to let people know who and what you are right off the bat."

They bickered loudly all the way into the little kitchen, then Mrs. said dryly to the room at large, "It didn't work; I have no idea what those two are."

"Same here, except I know they're not really twins," Blair told her, grinning widely. "I've studied psychology and Lady Thea mentioned them to me hoping I'd have an explanation. Apparently they met in college and so many people remarked on how much they looked alike, they decided to play on it. One of them dyed their hair so they're both red-heads, but they already had the green eyes and freckles thing going on. She also thinks the girl might have had some surgery to make her chest, less, uh, feminine."

"How do they play?" Bitch said curiously, apparently forgetting she was supposed to be pissed.

"Any way you want to, I'm told," Blair answered. "As long as it's both of them getting identical treatment."

"Now that's sick," the Movie Mistress muttered, defiantly throwing herself into a wingback opposite Blair, curtly pointing to the floor in front of her. Her boys sat without comment or changing expression, and for a mad moment he considered asking her how much she was paying them to be slaves for the night. Taking the thought back as uncharitable - she was a decent looking woman, well-built and in good shape - he said amiably, "By society's definitions, we all are. But odd as the Twins are, they are mild compared to some of the people I've met here."

"Amen," Mr. said lazily.

The conversation broke into gossip about previous visits to the bed and breakfast or to other clubs, all of them trying to outdo each other with some of the wild scenes they'd either been in or seen. Under cover of it, Blair whispered, "This is everybody but the trio in the dungeon room in the turret and those honeymooners in the attic suite."

"None of them are on Lady Thea's suspect list; they were previous reservations she didn't feel she could cancel," Jim murmured back.

"Still no electronics?"

"Not turned on, anyway."

With nothing else to do, Blair kept up his part of the conversation, even succeeding in getting a genuine response from Movie Mistress, until Lady Thea opened the double doors to her sitting room to have her traditional evening drink with the guests. In a simple teal-green cocktail dress, cut to flatter her full figure and older years, she was nothing like anybody's preconceived notion of what a true Mistress looked like, Blair decided. Even her heart-shaped face, framed with an expensive feathered haircut, spoke only of a mature woman who knew her own mind.

It wasn't until her staff slipped in to do their pre-assigned tasks of serving drinks and circulating hors d'oeuvres, totally naked except for whip marks and collars, that the average person might suspect she was more than she seemed. Even then, Blair thought, watching her as she put the Mr. & Mrs. at ease with a soft joke and compliment, there would no way of knowing not only how very strict a mistress she was, but how much her slaves adored her. Jim hadn't been joking when he said that anyone attacking her in any way risked the beating of their lives - from her staff.

If was only when she made her way to him that he saw the signs of strain in her features. She'd been very composed the day she'd invited them to dinner in Cascade to tell them her troubles, and what emotion she had expressed at the time had been anger and outrage. Now there was a hint of sorrow from the betrayal and a steely determination to defend the people who trusted her. When she bent to kiss his cheek, he whispered, "We'll get the asshole, I promise."

She brightened, but only said aloud with a genteel sweep of her hand at Jim, "May I?"

"Oh, please," they said in unison, and startled a tinkling laugh from her.

Jim knelt up so she could reach him without trouble, whispering for a moment in her ear, ending with something that made her laugh again, and Blair was sure there was a note of relief under it. Then as they had agreed earlier, she said merrily, "I'm so glad you could get away for my birthday party. I know how difficult that is, especially since it was such a spur of the moment idea on my part and you're always so busy."

"Lady Thea," Blair said sincerely, "There isn't a deal in this world so big that I wouldn't drop it in a heartbeat for a chance to sit at your feet. For five minutes. With or without the leash."

"Make that at your beach house on Oahu and you have a deal, love." She gave him another quick kiss, the left to stand in the center of the room, her job of setting them up as wealthy potential targets for the blackmailer done. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Masters & Mistresses, pets & slaves, lovers one and all, welcome, welcome! May this evening be the most interesting you've ever had, and may you enjoy every stroke of it!"

There was a smattering of chuckles at the pun and applause at the sentiment, then everyone drained their drinks, conversation starting anew. A short time later she led them to the formal dining room across the hall, seating herself at the head. The service and settings were as tasteful as she was; ruby red dishes and glasses trimmed with an elegant gold scroll around the rims, with gold flatware place settings.

Mr & Mrs. sat at the head on either side of her, Bitch and Brat sat side by side opposite Jim and Blair, the Twins sat opposite each other, and Movie Mistress took the other end, her slaves sitting on either side of her. Lady Thea's own slaves began circulating with soup and wine, unobtrusively dealing with everyone's dietary preferences.

Blair reached for his wine glass after it was filled, but a pinch on his knee stopped him, his fingers still loosely curled around the stem. He turned to Jim as if to give him instructions, in time to see his lover put his own glass down very carefully, lips pinched shut on what seemed to be a mouth full of wine. Following a gentle tug, Blair leaned forward as if for a kiss, prepared to drink from his lover's lips. But Jim only mimed giving him a sip. Faking a swallow, he smiled as if in praise, barely hearing Jim's murmured, "Drugged."

Instantly worried, Blair swallowed again exaggeratedly to question and Jim gave him the barest of shakes to tell him that he hadn't drunk any of the wine himself. But he did lick his lips to say that he'd tasted it, which for the sentinel might be all it took for any drug to have a powerful effect. Carefully putting his napkin down, Blair was about to bail when another pinch and minuscule nod directed his attention toward Lady Thea. She was toying with her glass, but it didn't look as if she'd drunk from it yet, and warning her had to take priority.

Without thinking he called out, "My Lady, would you like for your wine to have the sweetest taste you've ever known?" This time his knee got a pat, the only reaction Jim gave to the mad idea Blair had brewing.

"It's a very fine vintage; how could you improve on it?" she answered promptly, her curiosity very natural under the circumstances.

"I've discovered the vessel from which you drink can make an enormous difference. Would you like to try the one I just used?" God, he sounded trite and contrived to himself, but the other people at the table only looked interested or titillated, not suspicious.

"Is he ready for a test like that?" she asked, a shade of true concern showing. They hadn't discussed the possibility of any interaction between them; she had to know something was wrong and was going along because of it.

"It's the first time," he admitted. "But I think you're the best qualified to test him."

"By all means, then," she agreed. Then her tone turned cold. "Of course, if he fails, you will be punished, as well."

"Of course, Lady." With a smooth gesture that hid his trembling, Blair sent Jim to her. "One sip, My Own. Nothing more, nothing less."

Chain trailing down his back, head of his cock ruddy and damp, still visible over the top of his pants and the chain holding them up, Jim knelt beside her, hands on her chair arm for balance. She bent over him, as if giving him private instructions on how to behave, and Jim answered too softly for anybody to hear, his head bowing low as if in submission. Then Lady Thea offered him her glass, and he apparently took a small sip, reaching over when he was done to supposedly share the wine with her. Their lips touched, and knowing that it was all a shame, Blair had to bite the inside of his cheek anyway to keep from forcibly dragging his lover away from her.

*Undercover,* he told himself fiercely. *Think undercover.*

They 'shared' the drink, then Jim sat back on his heels, staring into Lady Thea's eyes in challenge. Lids dropping to half mast, his smile soft and sultry, he leaned into her personal space, not touching, just hinting at the possibility of it. "Lady Thea," he nearly purred. "You taste very... spicy."

Caught in the spell of his blue-hot gaze and vibrant sexuality, she asked faintly, "Spicy?"

"Spicy," Jim confirmed. He dared to inch closer, face to face with her as if in promise of a kiss. "Are you spicy everywhere, I wonder?"

"Enough, My Own," Blair barked. Hastily he stood and reached for the chain, yanking Jim back sharply with it, only half-acting his irritation.

Lady Thea blinked, then visibly straightened. "I am not sure that qualifies as a passing score; perhaps you'd better remove yourselves from the table until I decide."

"Agreed," Blair said shortly. He wrapped the chain around his fist tightly, leaving almost no play in it at all. "Attend." Jim rose gracefully, his face showing no expression, hands crossed at the small of his back, but head up proudly.

He managed to keep his poise until they reached their room - the master suite closest to the stairs on the first floor so they could hear anyone coming or going. Once there he staggered into Blair, nearly falling before seating himself on the floor at the foot of the four-poster bed. "Spiked with Ecstasy," he groaned, putting his head back on the mattress. "Warned her, but no way to stop the others without showing ourselves."

"Damn." Blair sat on the bed next to him, gingerly lifting up an eyelid to study the sentinel'swidely-dilated pupil. "How are you reacting to it?"

"Like it's an overdose of your pheromones. Everything's brighter, sharper, clearer - enhanced."

"Dials?"

"What dials?" He stretched, muscles flowing in a blatant display of strength and sensuality. "Feels good, though. Too damned good." He put his hands over his nipples, pinching them briefly, then palmed the head of his cock while fondling his balls. Without warning he toppled Blair onto his back, then crawled on top of him, rubbing against him all along the way. "Do me," he begged. "Bring me off or I'm never going to be able to concentrate."

"I'm supposed to be punishing you," Blair argued, shoving at his lover's shoulders to get him off. "We can't go back down there looking well-fucked."

"Fuck what they think. Isn't that the point of all the games anyway: to get well fucked?" Jim angled in for a kiss, chasing Blair's lip when he dodged it. "Please, My Own. Please. I need it."

"Any other time," Blair bitched to the room in general, "I would love this." He was dangerously close to giving in, his body responding heatedly to Jim's urgency and unprovoked pleading.

Finding an earlobe, Jim worried it gently, then whispered, "At least touch me, let me touch you." He worked a hand down between them, caressing Blair's erection through his pants with an expertise that was electric. Involuntarily Blair arched into the handling, wringing a soft cry from both of them. This time when Jim sought his mouth, he didn't fight, but curled a hand at the back of his neck to hold his lover in place to give them what they wanted.

Just before their lips touched, a shout of anger and pain shoved through the room, making him jump and Jim turn toward the noise. Shakily gathering his wits, Blair wrapped his legs around his lover and twisted, reversing their positions. Between the interruption and abrupt change, Jim's eyes had calmed a little, and Blair pressed his advantage while he could.

"Drugged or not, this is our best chance to catch the blackmailer," he said bluntly. "The wine had to be spiked so he or she could get something juicy on film without anybody noticing - or not caring if they did. We have to protect those people, protect Lady Thea." He sat up, half expecting to be stopped, but Jim only shuddered as if the loss of contact hurt, hands tightening into fists at Blair's waist.

"Protect," Jim muttered. "Okay, okay." He stared up at the ceiling as if not looking at Blair would help him concentrate. "Going to have to find some way to counteract the drug, clear my head." There was a pause, then he added, "Pain would work."

Scrambling away to stand at the foot of the bed, Blair blurted, "No. No, don't ask me." He took a deep breath, fear nibbling at the edge of his mind. "I won't deliberately hurt you. It's one thing to walk the edge between pain and pleasure during sex; it's something else entirely to cold-bloodedly make you hurt."

"So we keep walking the edge," Jim shot back grimly, sitting up unsteadily. "Make it part of the cover, part of this." He grabbed the chain circling his waist just where it cut into his hard-on, calling Blair's attention to the way it pinned the shaft to his stomach.

Hesitantly Blair traced just above the metal with a single fingertip, unconsciously licking his lips. "That looks so good on you, even knowing it must ache." His head shot up and he studied Jim's eyes. "A good ache?"

"Yes, but not enough to keep me from working, normally." He gritted his teeth. "You'd better not do any more of that if you don't want me taking what I want right here and now."

Guilty Blair jerked his hand away. "Sorry. God, if I'm this distracted I don't know how you're going to manage." Jim shifted uneasily, and the chain on his neck caught a twinkle of light from the motion, giving Blair an idea. "Hang on a sec." Going to the armoire where the toys were stored, he took out another length of chain, measuring it in his mind's eye. "This should work; hold still." He clambered up behind his lover and reached around him, wrapping the metal links around Jim's chest, right over his nipples. When it was tight enough to stay in place, he asked, "Too much?"

"A bit more?"

He took in another few inches, then clipped the chain in place, leaving a short strand dangling down the middle of Jim's back, swaying enticingly. Leaving the bed, Blair stood in front of his lover, studying the effect and trying not to howl. As luck would have it, Jim's nipples were centered in the open circles of two links, making the dusky buds stand out in relief from the rest of his chest. They looked like they were begging to be tormented further; to be licked and sucked and bitten until Jim was screaming from it.

"You may be able to think straight right now," Blair said flatly. "But I'm ready to bend you over and use you like it's the last piece of ass I'm ever going to get."

"God!" Jim slid away to stand opposite him, using the bed as a barrier. "This isn't going to be enough."

Blair pulled his hand through his hair, looking away from his lover and trying to think. "What else can we do?"

"Plug," Jim bit out. "The big one that I have to be really stretched out to use. We put it in cold and if that doesn't put out some of this fire, we might as well give up and get what we need; hope we can track down the blackmailer tomorrow."

"I am not," he said bluntly, "Going to be able to place that for you. If you present, I am going to fuck you. Period."

Jim stomped for the bathroom, scooping up their toy bag as he went, the muscle in his jaw telegraphing that was the last thing he needed to hear. Not watching him go, Blair sank to the floor, shaking through and through. It had been the last thing he needed to hear, too. Now all he could think of was having Jim in front of him, ass up high and ready, whimpering to be filled.

Wiping his palms over his thighs in a vain effort to dry some of the sweat, he swallowed hard, trying to banish the image. It wouldn't go, and he unwillingly stood, drawn toward the bathroom as if already hearing his lover's soft pleas.

They were both saved by an imperious knock and Lady Thea sweeping in before he could have possibly called out a hello. She left the door ajar and through it he could see most of the other guests tip-toeing up the stairs as if they truly believed no one would notice them coming. Faced with no other choice, he said calmly, "My Lady."

"Has he been properly chastised?" she asked, her face a mask of apology that told Blair he had to go along. As if on cue, Jim came back into the bedroom himself, the metal links binding his chest and his careful movements answering the question, if not completely honestly. "I see that he has; your turn."

Instantly Jim was in front of him, his whole body screaming his defiance. Just as quickly Blair grabbed the leash and dragged him back with it. "Behave," he said sharply. "Or you'll get more of the same."

"May I?" Lady Thea asked, not giving them a chance to answer, but bending to fasten the lead to one of the hooks in the bedpost. Under cover of the action she whispered, "Look at them - the drug's taken effect and they're blood-thirsty. If I don't give it to them on my terms, they'll take it on theirs, and someone might genuinely get hurt. We're the only ones who can safely and sanely do anything besides sleep it off."

"Use the quick-release latch so I can get out fast by myself," Jim whispered back, grimly accepting the necessity of what she was doing. "And for God's sake, don't actually hit him or what happens next won't be an act. Do you understand?"

In another time and place Blair would have been filled with a thousand questions, because the look of surprise she gave Jim was quickly replaced with a sort of bittersweet comprehension. Then it was his turn to be surprised. Lady Thea fastened the chain so that it had very little play in it, took the excess and bound Jim's hands, leaving him upright on his knees, not able to so much as sit back on his heels.

She turned briskly, and strode over to the opposite corner of the room - one hidden by the door. "Face the wall, hands braced on it, please."

Not hiding his genuine trepidation, Blair did as she said, but all she did was murmur in his ear, "Try to make it sound realistic." Pacing enough that their audience had fleeting glimpses of her, she asked conversationally, "Belt, cane, or switch?"

"Belt, please."

She took one from the armoire and asked, "How many?"

"Ten, please." He thought he could stand that much and hoped it would be enough to satisfy the others.

"Too many," she said firmly. "After all, I did give permission for you to test him with me, and my own instructions. It wasn't a complete failure. Five is more appropriate." To him she added softly, pulling up his shirt, "And about all Jim will be able to endure."

Without another word she snapped the leather between her hands so realistically that he not only jumped, but yelped as if he had been hit. "One," he gasped at her nod.

He turned his head so that she could use surprise again to get a good reaction, and his eyes widened at the sight of his lover frantically straining at his bonds as if will power alone would be enough to break them. Too late he realized that from his position, Jim couldn't actually see what had been done to him, and the drug was making his senses too unreliable for them to give him the truth. He smiled, intending to reassure that way, but Thea cracked the belt again, this time right in his ear, and startled, he nearly went through the wall. "Two!" he yelled.

From across the room he could hear the creak of the bed frame as Jim fought his restraints, but it had been built to deal with the pressure and withstood his strength. Through a the crack between the door hinges and wall, lit by the brighter hallway, he could see the Bitch staring at his lover, mouth hanging open, and she jumped as well when the leather sounded again. He shouted "Three!" venting some of his frustration and worry in the force of it, and "Four!" followed right on its heels. It felt good, and he made five a heart-felt scream, though he made sure this time Jim could see that it was all for effect.

It didn't help. Either the E was distorting Jim's perceptions or he was one hell of an actor. He was as pumped up as if he'd been working out, sweat streaming down the lines of his body. Though his face was nearly expressionless, the blue of his eyes was fiery with a fury that was nearly palpable in the room. Hardly noticing that Lady Thea mussed his hair and hastily pulled down his shirt, Blair ran across the room, skidding to a stop on his knees beside his lover.

He freed the chain from the hook with deft fingers, saying over and over, "I'm okay, I'm okay."

Panting harshly, Jim hid his face on his shoulder, making as much body contact as he could. He didn't say anything, but he was shaking, though Blair only knew because of the tremors vibrating through his own body. Carding his fingers through the silky hair on the back of Jim's head, he rocked them both a tiny bit, taking as much comfort as he gave.

After a moment, Jim half-laughed and half-groaned. "I think I scared the shit out of Mr. & Mrs. They ran for their room."

From behind them, Lady Thea said quietly, "Then that's two sets down and two to go. I had the wine taken away, claiming that the very sight of it had been spoiled for me. The Twins had already emptied their glasses and wanted more. They put up a fuss, so I put them up - in the playroom downstairs. They can stay in the restraints until they come down, then I'll do something extra - ah, exciting - for them."

Defensively Blair glanced back at the door - to find it safely shut. Running calming hands over Jim's back, he released his lover's wrists, glad when he was promptly enclosed in a hug. He didn't say anything about the ghostly search by sensitive sentinel fingers for injuries. "You're sure the Twins are under the influence?"

"Not only that, but I had them stripped to their skins. No camcorders on them, no chance to plant them; they would have waited to do that until the drug took effect so they could place them to get the best stuff," she said definitively.

"So our perpetrator has to be either the Movie Mistress crowd, the Bitch, or The Brat," Blair said, nodding. "I don't think it was the Bitch. She had a perfect chance to do a little recording a minute ago - no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to her - but she was just as caught up in your little drama as Jim was." He put the questions he had about how she'd known that his lover wouldn't be able to cope with even the pretense of his punishment aside until business was taken care of.

"Neither of MM's boys have been here before - she always brings a new set," Lady Thea told them.

Straightening but leaving his hands on Blair's thighs, Jim finished their chain of logic. "Which leaves Brat or Movie Mistress. Did either of them have the opportunity to get to the wine?"

Sounding annoyed with herself, she answered, "It was left to breathe on the sideboard; anyone could have slipped in and dropped the Ecstasy into the bottle. Or it could have been in the glasses themselves - the dark color would have made a dusting of powder at the bottom go unnoticed."

"If we go on the assumption that the blackmailer wouldn't want to drink any herself so she'd be able to capitalize on the situation," Jim said slowly. "That method makes the most sense. But the way everyone circulated through the rooms before dinner, we can't eliminate a suspect that way."

"We could just watch to see which of them doesn't acted stoned," Blair offered.

"No, since Lady Thea made everyone give up their glasses, whoever it is could be suspicious. To be on the safe side, she'd act like she's under the influence, too." Jim stood carefully, absently pulling Blair to his side as he did. "Is there any way to know if either of them have been back to their room since they came down for dinner? If they haven't, chances are good that our blackmailer could still have both the drug as well as the camcorder on her."

"My staff would know; it's their job to keep track of the guests to be able to answer immediate needs." Lady Thea sounded speculative. "I could always manufacture a reason to strip search everyone."

"She has to be prepared for that," Blair pointed out. "Since winding up naked or close to it is part of the reason for being here."

"There's more than one way to search someone," Jim said thoughtfully.

Clamping his hand over the one holding his hip, Blair said flatly. "No. Neither one of those bitches are going to get near you. Think of another way."

"Lady, would you mind questioning your people to find out if our suspects did go back upstairs at any point? We'll be down in a minute." Jim's dismissal was gentle, and she took it well, nodding that she understood they needed privacy. Once the door was shut behind her, he said, "Between smell and sight, I don't think touch will be necessary."

Turning so that they were chest to chest, Blair let his weight rest against his lover for a second. "We're so wired," he whispered. "The lines between reality and play are way, way too blurred. I'm not sure I can handle a scene."

Jim laughed shortly, no humor in it at all. "I know I can't. But the blackmailer isn't expecting trouble, and both Brat and Movie Mistress are so arrogant and blind to everything but their own schemes that pinpointing which one it is shouldn't take anything more than waiting for them to trip themselves up."

Laying his head on Jim's chest, ignoring the cold of the metal that lay between him and the warmth of the lover, Blair said, "Let's just get it over with, then. Go down there, grab whoever it is, leave her to Lady Thea's mercy, and get back up here, all as fast as we can."

Jim shook his head. "I want to leave, get back to Cascade. Something quick to get the edge off if we have to, but...." He trailed off, eyelids drifting down as if he were looking at what was going on in his head but couldn't find words to explain it. Restlessly he ran his hands over Blair, grinding their cocks together, but erratically, as if what ever it was bothering him was even more primal than the need to mate.

"Then we leave," Blair agreed. "Straight to the safe house?"

"No," Jim said, shocking him. "The loft. I know we decided no Playing there, but like you said, the boundaries are so blurred right now - all I can think of is being there, in our bed, opening to you, giving it all up to you completely."

Moaning, the hard-on that had faded with Lady Thea's 'punishment' rushing back in a few painful throbs, Blair worried about the very real possibility of coming in his pants. "I'll have to gag you," he said nearly to himself. "So the neighbors won't hear you scream. And I have to mark you, leave part of me on you and in you so even when I can't get it up any more, I can still know that you're mine."

"Something hidden," Jim whispered hotly. "Just for us to see."

"Yes."

It was impossible to tell which of them shuddered or if both did at the same time. Taking it as a warning, Blair peeled himself away, nervously smoothing his shirt over his chest, then brushing his hair away from his face to try to compose himself. Jim was studying the floor, obviously trying to do the same. "Okay," he muttered. "Let's go for it."

Wrapping the chain around his fist, Blair led the way, carefully not letting himself think about how close beside him he was keeping his lover. He went down the stairs at what he hoped was a dignified pace, showing no rush, then barely hid a sigh of relief when he saw that Lady Thea was in the middle of staging a scene. No one even noticed them come into the living room.

She was slowly, methodically binding one of her staff with a satin rope, occasionally giving him a hard spank and gradually forcing the young man to kneel face down on the floor, backside high. All the while she told him what she was going to do when she had him just right, and what she would do if he tried to fight her. Her threats were so imaginative, she had the others riveted in place, barely breathing and plainly enjoying themselves.

Jim didn't spare her a second glance, but did partially tilt his head to one side, as if listening. The camcorder had been planted, then. Blair circulated them both carefully, as if looking for the best vantage spot, keeping most of his attention on the sentinel as he worked. A subtle flaring of nostrils told him that Jim was trying scent first, and Blair nodded to himself. While all of them might have some of the smell of drug on them just from handling the contaminated glasses, the carrier would naturally be inundated with it. When Jim came to a full stop at a spot where he had a clear view of Brat, Blair knew he had his target.

He didn't bother trying hide the fact that he was staring at her; given the circumstances, anyone who noticed would think he was mentally undressing her. *Not far from the truth,* Blair thought. *Though I don't know where she could be hiding the E in that outfit.*

Brat's Greek-style tunic was very, very short and very, very sheer, not really hiding her assets at all. As if to be a tease, she was wearing underpants and a bra, the slightly darker white lace showing clearly through the tunic, emphasizing her curves. She wasn't badly built, he decided, and it wouldn't take that much of the drug to do the job; maybe it was tucked in her cleavage. He shook his head in answer to himself; as he'd pointed out, she might have to remove her clothes at any moment for any reason, made up or real. Brat would need a better hiding spot than that.

"Got it," Jim murmured. "Move us in closer."

Mystified, Blair did as he was told, holding down a comment when Jim positioned them so that Brat was within reaching distance. Then he cuddled close, rubbing his cheek over Blair's curls, and asked loud enough for her to hear, "Please? Won't be bad again. Promise."

"Hush, you'll disturb Lady Thea," Blair said softly, pretending to ignore the plaintive tone of his lover's voice. Even knowing it was for effect, it was doing things to his middle, making him both ache and quiver.

Tentatively, almost shyly, Jim bumped his groin into him. "Hurts."

"Hush, My Own," Blair ordered sternly, eyes firmly on the spectacle in front of them.

Hearing their quiet conversation, Brat looked over at them, then eyed Jim's erection hungrily. "Oh, come on," she coaxed. "Give the big guy a break, will ya? He obviously needs it really, really bad."

"That is not your problem." Not bothering to look at her, but unnaturally aware of where she was, he kept up his indifferent front. "And I'll thank you to keep your opinions concerning him to yourself."

Goaded, Brat huffed, "You don't have me on that leash."

"A pity; I could teach you some manners."

Expression hardening, totally ruining her sweet girlish image, Brat answered his veiled censure by sidling closer to Jim. 'If you can't take care of him properly, maybe you shouldn't have him." Assuming what had to be her most innocent air, she turned up her face to Jim and cooed, "You don't have to hurt, baby. I can make you feel good, make that big, ole' hurty go 'way."

At her last words she reached for Jim's dick, but before she could touch, Jim grabbed the front of her tunic right between the breasts and shoved. "No!" He didn't let go of the fabric when she fell backwards and it - and the bra under it - gave with a loud rip. It bared her from throat to navel when she landed but Blair didn't care about her naked body. Much more important was the trickle of white power coming from the cup of the bra.

As if fascinated, he reached down and snagged a loose thread between thumb and forefinger and gave an experimental tug. More of the bra's seam unraveled, and the trickle became a small stream. "Lady Thea," he called out. "I think you should see this."

Grabbing at the material, Brat tried to stop the flow and snapped, "What's the big deal; giving yourself another cup size isn't a crime."

Tasting his fingertip, Blair answered, "No, but using Ecstasy to do it is."

"And not permitted in my home even if it wasn't," Lady Thea said loudly from behind them, reaching to take a pinch to check for herself. "I thought things were getting too intense too fast."

"It's just my own stash," Brat defended herself, but two of Lady Thea's slaves were coming at her from either side, Lady Thea herself blocking Bitch's clumsy - and obviously drugged - attempt to get to her companion. Off-balance, Bitch tumbled into Movie Mistress, and for a few minutes there was a general free for all of slapping, shouting and fighting. It resolved itself fairly quickly under Lady Thea's orders, and as soon as she had Brat strung up against a wall, Blair sighed in relief. They could leave now.

He turned to grin in triumph at his lover, just in time to see Jim leave through the front door of the house, collar and chain abandoned near Blair's feet. "Fuck!" With a burst of speed he got to the door before it shut, then had to stand at the threshold until his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness to be able to see his lover's retreating back vanishing into the pines that surrounded the pool at its far side.

The first time he'd visited the bed and breakfast, he and Jim had toured the grounds, so Blair knew there was a secluded picnic spot there, and he raced for it himself, not sure what he would find when he arrived. In the barely-lit night it was a spooky place, quiet except for a thread of breeze speaking to itself among the pine needles. A thick padding of them underfoot muffled his footsteps, making his panting breaths loud in his own ears.

It was a beautiful spot as well, fragrant from the surrounding pines and the nearby rose gardens, and the stars that decorated its roof were bright and cheerful. Stillness enveloped the small clearing, granting a peace and serenity that offset the vague threat shadows can have.

Cautiously, listening hard because he couldn't see Jim, Blair crossed to a small metal picnic table at the other side of the clearing, pausing there to turn in a circle to search. There was no sign of him, and, worried, he started to call out, but before his lover's name was more than air in his throat, Jim materialized from the gloom, standing almost in front of him.

There was no trace of restraint or civilization in the feral blue eyes on Blair. This Wild Thing was free, gracefully stalking and hunting in a world that welcomed him. But he was also in heat, in need of his mate, and the male of his kind did not simply take, but wooed and courted to win what he had to have. Blair knew that to the bone of himself, knew that was the lure that would bring his lover back to the bonds they both chose.

So he waited, not blinking or flinching, and Jim brushed up heavily against him, rocking him back on his heels slightly. Then his lover was gone, teasingly close but far enough away that he could elude a touch if he wished. Blair waited again, and this time when Jim rubbed over him, head lowered to capture a wisp of warmth and scent, Blair caught him with loving hands on either side of his face and dove in for a kiss.

Commandingly, demandingly he thrust his tongue into Jim's mouth, savoring the heat and taste, taking possession of both with an ease born of necessity. Jim accepted it, opening to him with a hunger that matched his own. As their lips clung and caressed, Blair pressed close, using his body to make another claim. Through the satin of his shirt he could feel the inferno his lover's skin had become, the cold metal of the chains hardly a hindrance to either of them.

A half-step urged Jim back; a small shift of weight made him sit of the edge of the table, legs spread for Blair to stand between. Breaking away only enough to breathe "My Own" into Jim's mouth, he unclipped the chain over the straining cock and undid the zip, freeing it completely. The head of it was soaked with pre-cum, and he smoothed it along the shaft, barely hanging on when his lover pumped up through his loose grip.

He only allowed one more thrust, then stilled Jim by holding his hips down. "Naked, now." All it took was a lift and shimmy, then the jeans were gone and his lover was gloriously bare, clothed only in starlight, shimmering lust and wild eagerness. All ten inches of his thick maleness stood straight out from its bed of downy balls and curls, the musky scent from it suddenly filling the night.

Blair bent, fitting his lips over the crown to soak up its flavor and the shout of pleasure that came with it. A careful shove bent Jim back over the table, forcing him to prop himself up on his elbows, and he hung his head back, mouth open as if he couldn't get enough air. Then he froze, unable to move as the heat exploded from him in creamy bursts that Blair drank through his lover's gasped cries of satisfaction.

When there was no more, he lifted Jim's legs over his shoulders and straightened, nearly bending his mate in half. The move put his cock along the sweltering crease of the perfect ass, his head level with the ripped chest. Finally giving the captured nubs the licks they'd been yearning for Blair tasted, ignoring the tang of the metal, then sucked them, reaching behind Jim to undo the clip holding that chain in place. It slithered away, and his lips roamed at will over throat, shoulders, chest, while his hands pumped the barely softened cock, tearing soft moans from Jim.

When his slut was trying to ride down on the hard-on so teasingly close to his opening, despite the thick plug blocking it, Blair pulled back enough to undo the zipper on his leather pants, knowing the touch was going to be too much for him and not caring. It wasn't going to make any more difference than Jim's first orgasm had for him. The relief would not be enough; he was beginning to wonder if it was humanly possible to get 'enough.'

He grunted, locking his knees against a blast of pleasure too intense to be called that, and caught the flow of liquid in his palm. Still hard when his orgasm ended, he forced up his eyelids to find himself snared in blue fire that scorched down his spine, burning away any satiation he might have had from coming. Willingly holding Jim's gaze, he casually ripped out the plug stretching the entrance to his lover's body, then smeared the seed he held over the spasming muscle. With his other hand he milked out the last dregs of his climax and offered it up to Jim's lips, neither of them looking away while the thick liquid was hungrily licked off.

"My Own," Blair whispered. "Mine."

As if in answer, Jim placed a last sucking kiss in the palm feeding him, then lay back on the table, stretching his arms straight up over his head. No chains, no ropes, nothing binding him to Blair's will but his own heart, he offered himself up completely with no trace of shame or fear in his face. The trust and love inherent in the gift tore at Blair's control in a way he never expected, and he was the one to finally break the gaze they shared.

Dizzy with the roaring lust scrabbling through his soul, he stared sightlessly at the ground, all the things he wanted to do, all the things he could do to the willing body in front of him swirling through his mind. Some were unspeakably perverse and debasing, some would break even a man as strong as this one. All would make both of them scream and scream and scream in an ecstasy that was beyond human endurance. And he wanted them with a black and seductive longing that was as poisonous as it was sweet.

Gasping as if needing air for fight or flight, Blair made himself look at his lover again to warn him if he could, only to find that Jim already knew about the madness rising in him. Had seen the possibility of it much, much earlier. That was why he had wanted to back to Cascade, back to the loft they had made sacred with their love. So they would both be reminded of why they Played in the first place: to strengthen their trust and the incredible thing that bound them together.

Yet Jim waited, vulnerable and accepting, for whatever Blair might choose to do next.

Which made the choice simple and obvious.

Turning his head to plant a tiny kiss on the inner thigh, he smoothed his palms over the outer, and took a step back, holding Jim's legs just under the knees. A quick glance showed him the rope he expected to find twined around a branch - more of Lady Thea's thoughtfulness. It only took him a few minutes to tie the long legs so that they were held up by the ankles between two trees, spread wide to show off the tender ring of muscle that glistened slightly in the moonlight with traces of Blair's come and oil left from the plug.

That done, he walked to the head of the table, a length of chain dangling from his fingers. "Your bonds are to hold me back," Blair said quietly. "My promise to you that I will never, ever forget that you let me use them - and why you do." He kissed Jim hard, nearly grinding their lips together, tongue suffocatingly deep in his throat. When Jim was moaning from it, he lifted his head, darting a tiny nip to the tip of his nose. "Even if you won't say it."

He used the chain to fasten Jim's hands to the frame of the table, then stripped off his shirt, draping it over his lover's neck and stuffing one sleeve into his mouth. "I want to gag you because I'm the only one who gets to hear your screams - and you scream sweeter when you've got something in that suck-hungry hole of yours. Damn, you make me wish I had two cocks; one for each end."

A deep groan shook Jim and he arched up as much as he could, begging in that way to be touched.

"Soon, my slut, my bitch, my suck whore," Blair promised, bending to let the words buzz over a painfully tight nipple. He moved to the other one, bit it hard enough to be gifted with another groan, then dabbed small licks straight down toward Jim's cock. Just short of it, he stopped and whispered, "First I have to mark you. Something hidden; just for us to know about."

Jim whimpered, a thread of warning in the sound, and Blair quickly grabbed his balls and gave a sharp pull down. "Uh-uh. You can't come yet, My Own. Not until I'm ready for you to."

Back at the foot of the table again, Blair crouched to place a sucking kiss on each ass cheek, leaving livid strawberry bruises on the pale flesh. "Mmm, nice, but not quite what I want." He stood, idly trailing fingertips over calves and inner knees, considering. Then he brushed a knuckle over the thin, downy skin between pucker and balls. "Here. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it, and every time I reach for your ass to use it, we'll remember I did it."

With that he slid two fingers into the loosened pucker, sighing in unison with his lover as he did; tight, still very, very tight and hot and soft, the perfect place for his cock. Pumping gently, he teased them both, encouraging Jim to rock into the finger-fucking with soft praise and encouragement. When he couldn't take it any longer, Blair slapped open-handed onto a white thigh, plunging his fingers in deeper as he did.

The red palm print left behind was thrilling, as was Jim's stifled shout and frantic bucking. So much so that he didn't hesitate switch hands to strike the other side harder, with another deep thrust of fingers. Giving the straining, writhing body a last loving glance, he replaced fingers with cock at the quivering hole and drove in as he viciously pinched the tender flesh he'd chosen.

Despite ropes and chains, Jim nearly twisted off the table, not away from the abuse he was taking, but toward it, vainly trying to get more cock. Shouting incoherently through the gag, he clenched inner muscles around Blair's shaft, bearing down on it with all he had. The pleading, desperate message for more, harder was clear and Blair gave it to him, surrendering at last to the imperative to fuck.

With animal strength and need he pounded away at the vulnerable opening, sinking in as far as possible with each stroke, holding on to Jim's hips with deliberately bruising hands. "Going to shoot in you," he ground out, words coming in time to his thrusts. "Going to leave my come in you, leave my smell on you, leave my taste on your tongue, my touch on every inch of you. Never get rid of it, of all the me I'm gonna mark you with."

A powerful shudder ripped through Jim, bowing his back completely off the table and forcing Blair farther into him than he'd ever been. "Yes, now," he whispered. "Let me see you spill - so beautiful, so... god... Jim...." The delicate tissues surrounding him rippled and massaged in harmony with the cream flowing from his mate, gliding under the iron control Blair had over his own climax, letting it escape to envelope him in a white-out of joy and ecstasy. From a long way away he could hear himself scream, but all that really existed for that moment was the perfect fit around his cock and the wonderful, glorious, all-consuming fire of release.

It burned out, like it had to, leaving Blair too sated and sweaty to move but already wishing he could start all over again right away. He was slumped on top of Jim, both of them breathing heavily, belly and groin slickly moving with the effort. Groaning, he shifted to drag away the shirt gagging his lover to let him breathe easier and to try to put some of his weight on his own feet.

"Don't. Please. You're not that heavy."

"Gotta get you out of those ropes, man," Blair mumbled, gladly giving up the effort to move.

With a gentle internal squeeze, Jim said, "They're not bothering me that much, and I don't want to lose this, yet."

"Don't want to, either." He thought a second, then reached under the table, pleased to find that the hook holding the chain was within reach. Thumbing the release open, he listened to Jim shake it off his wrists, not at all surprised when both arms came around him a second later.

"Blair," Jim sighed, hugging tightly. "God.. Blair..."

He smiled into the moon-touched skin under his face and said, "I know. I love you, too."

finis