Author's website: http://carodee.popullus.net
The characters and setting of The Sentinel do not belong to me.
A grateful thanks to Jane for betaing. The first of three short stories won by Mason in the Moonridge Auction 2006.
This story takes place very early in the timeline, before the events in Control and a few weeks after Blair moves in and Jim imprisons him.
Additional Warning: Unsafe bondage practices (never tie and gag someone and then leave them alone).
This story is a sequel to: Control

Jim was almost out of the squad room when Simon called him from his office. He turned back reluctantly and hovered in the doorway. "What's up, Simon?"

Simon looked up from his paperwork and frowned as he took in Jim's impatience. "Are you in some kind of hurry?"

Jim shrugged. "I've got some errands to run. I don't want to be late getting back to work."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were bucking for a raise." Simon shook his head, grinning. "Don't let me stop you. I was just wondering about Sandburg. Haven't seen him around lately. Is he still helping out with..." he lowered his voice, "...the senses?"

Jim's eyes narrowed but, as far as he could tell, Simon was simply curious. Nothing to worry about. "Sandburg had to leave town. A relative of his is terminally ill and he's there taking care of them until it's over. He doesn't know how long it'll be. A couple of months at least."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you doing okay without his help, Jim?"

"I'm fine," Jim assured him. "Sandburg calls every couple of days to check up on me. He's got me doing exercises every evening to hone my skills and it seems to be doing the trick." Jim fought to keep a straight face, amused at the thought of Simon's expression if he knew just what kind of skill-honing was going on.

"Sounds like fun," Simon said, deadpan. "We haven't done lunch in a while, but I can see you're busy."

"Yeah, maybe some other time," Jim said. Sorry, Simon, but nothing can beat what I've got waiting for me at home. The thought brought a sudden heat below the waist and he hurriedly dialed down.

Simon nodded. "Another time. Tell the kid I said hi."

Jim entered the loft and dropped the takeout bag on the table. He headed towards the bathroom and stopped in front of Blair's door. Blair looked up from the newspaper he was reading.

"Hey, Chief, how's your day been so far?" Jim asked cheerfully. Blair stared at him with cold eyes and then turned back to his newspaper.

Jim smirked and decided to let it go. It wasn't as if Blair would be able to ignore him during lunch. He went into the bathroom and washed his hands, eyeing the commode regretfully as he did so, but he was already too hard to take a piss. That would have to wait until lunch was over.

Moving quickly, Jim set his roast beef sandwich out on a china plate and placemat, with the full set of silverware and poured his soda into a glass. He could hear the rustling of newspaper and the rumbling of Blair's stomach. He poured the chicken soup out of the Styrofoam container into a plastic dog bowl and put it on the placemat at Blair's place. He eyed the chair a moment and then decided to leave it. Blair knew where Jim drew the line and had judged his little moment of insolence carefully enough to stay just this side of it.

Blair was still pretending to read the paper when Jim went back in. "You ready for lunch?"

Blair nodded and waited for directions.

"Newspaper," said Jim, holding out his hand.

Blair tensed for only a moment before closing and folding the paper neatly and handing it over. Jim put it down on the floor out of Blair's reach.

"Will you behave if I remove the gag?" Jim asked. If the gag didn't come off, then Blair didn't eat. It was that simple and Blair knew it. Eyes narrowed, he nodded again. Then he uncurled from the knees to chest position he'd been sitting in to conserve as much body heat as possible, crawled as close to the edge of the futon as the chain would allow, and knelt with bowed head so Jim could reach the buckle.

Jim undid the strap, staring down the length of Blair's back to his rounded ass, the blue latex of the butt plug just visible in the crack. He smiled at the thought of Blair being kept stretched and ready for him. The straps parted and he eased the small ball gag away. Blair grimaced and rubbed his mouth with both handcuffed hands.

"Thank you, sentinel," he said hoarsely.

Jim handed him the gag, reached into his pocket for the key and unlocked the chain from Blair's collar.

"Get up," Jim said. "We don't have a lot of time today."

Blair staggered upright, stretched for a moment and then bent down to pick up the portable urinal before shuffling to the bathroom as fast as the ankle cuffs allowed. Jim followed him and stood in the door watching as Blair emptied the urinal into the toilet and rinsed it out. He carefully washed and dried the gag and left it on the sink for after lunch.

"You need to take a dump?" Jim asked. Blair's expression remained blank as he shook his head, but Jim could feel the sudden heat radiating from his skin. Blair didn't like Jim watching as he took care of bodily needs but it was an effective method of making clear that privacy was a thing of the past. Blair was property now and his comfort or discomfort was a non-issue.

Jim looked his property over appreciatively before meeting Blair's resentful gaze with a smile. "Lunch is on the table."

He angled his body just enough to leave room for Blair to squeeze past. As Blair tried to make it past without touching, Jim leaned into him, pressing his hard-on against Blair's hip, and whispered in his ear, "Did you miss me, Blair?"

Blair kept his head turned away as he answered in a low voice, "No."

Jim nipped his ear gently. "I missed you."

Blair jerked his head back and slipped past him. Jim laughed and followed as Blair shuffled out to the table and stood next to his chair.

Jim sat down and bit into his sandwich, chewing leisurely. Blair rolled his eyes but remained waiting. He stared down at the table to avoid watching but Jim could see his nostrils flaring and hear the liquid sound of swallowing as his salivary glands reacted to the smell of food. Jim took his time swallowing and then said, "Go ahead and eat your lunch, Chief."

"Thank you, sentinel." Blair pulled out his chair and sat down gingerly, arching his back to avoid pressing on the butt plug, before pulling the plastic dog bowl towards him and clumsily lifting it to drink. He blinked at the taste. "What's this?"

"Chicken noodle from Manny's Deli," Jim answered. "I remember you ordering it once."

Blair's eyes narrowed warily but he took another sip, then began gulping it down eagerly. The bowl was difficult to handle with handcuffs on and some of the contents trickled down his chin. He set it down just long enough to wipe away the soup. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why?"

Jim smirked at Blair, who dropped his gaze. "I had a good time this morning. I figured that if you do something nice for me, I should do something nice for you."

Blair's face was grim as he stared down at the bowl in his white-knuckled grip, but his voice was mild as he asked, "Your idea of a reward is a bowl of tepid soup? Not seeing much of an incentive there, man."

Jim shrugged and picked up his sandwich. "Don't eat it then. I just thought you'd like something that wasn't canned soup. Sometimes the little rewards are the only things that get you through another day." He took a bite.

"Sounds like the voice of experience," Blair said.

Not a subject Jim wanted Blair thinking about. He met Blair's speculative gaze with a flat, cold stare and said, "Finish your lunch, Chief."

That shut Blair up as he hurriedly drank the rest of his soup and then scooped the noodles and chicken pieces up with his fingers. He'd learned the hard way that if he wasn't done by the time Jim was, he went hungry.

Watching Blair with heavy-lidded eyes, Jim spread his legs under the table to ease the pressure on his crotch and dialed up. The sudden rise in sensation made his cock pulse and Jim's breath caught in anticipation. He dropped one hand under the table to trace a light fingertip up and down his cock while he waited.

When Blair was close to done, Jim abruptly stood, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor loud in the loft. He walked around to stand behind Blair. He looked down on the naked guide and took a moment to enjoy the fact that this was all his.

Jim ran his hands lightly over Blair's tense shoulders and then down the front of his body, fingers tugging at chest hair and circling his nipples. Blair hunched forward and ate faster. Jim rubbed his face against Blair's curls like a lazy cat, taking in Blair's scent.

Unable to wait any longer, he stepped back from Blair and unzipped his pants to pull out his erection. Blair's head jerked up at the sound of the zipper, then stilled.

"Get up," Jim rasped out.

Blair pushed the bowl out of the way and stood. Jim shoved the chair to the side and stepped in, crowding Blair against the table. With one hand around Blair's neck, Jim pressed him down onto the table. Blair knew better than to struggle and went down easy, settling onto the table with his forehead cushioned on his hands.

"Don't let me go on too long," Jim warned. "I have to get back to work."

"How long?" Blair muttered against the table.

Jim stopped and eyed the clock, calculating what time he'd left the PD and how long he could justifiably take. The line at the deli had been longer than he expected. Wasted time he could have spent with Blair. "Make it twenty," he said, reluctantly.

Blair twisted his head to look at the clock, then returned to his braced position. No more waiting. In one smooth, continuous movement, Jim pulled out the butt plug, set it on the placemat, lined his cock up and slid inside. Blair hissed and tensed for a second, then deliberately relaxed. Good boy.

Oh yeah. This was it. This was where he needed to be. God, so good. Jim threw back his head, groaning with pleasure, and began a slow, rhythmic pumping that would maximize the amount of stimulation around his cock while still leaving him enough control to play with the dials.

Amazing things, dials. All Incacha had taught him was open and closed. Open meant absolute dependence on the guide for everything and his misery was irrelevant. Blair and his Western scientific perspective assumed individual control was possible and desirable and he'd set out to give Jim just that.

Freedom. Jim laughed out loud and threw an extra roll into his thrust that made Blair gasp. If Jim chose to, he knew Blair's body now and could make Blair come just from this. But he didn't have to and that was freedom. Because of Blair, he didn't need the guide; he was free to simply want him. Bless Blair and his sweet, earnest ignorance.

Jim took a moment to reach up and ruffle Blair's hair affectionately. Then he gripped Blair's hips again and concentrated. No more distractions. His senses were pushing against the dials and Jim allowed the numbers to climb and felt the corresponding rise in pleasure. Oh God, yes.

He focused on his sight, taking in the entirety of the loft, his hearing, including the moist, urgent sounds of sex. but stretching beyond that to the other apartments and street noises, and, most difficult, other sources of touch, the feel of Blair's skin under his fingers, the hard, cool, smoothness of the floor, the air flowing over his skin as he moved, and underneath it all, the growing ecstasy in his cock trying to push all the other sensations away. Only Jim's control kept him riding the pleasure. He could stay here for hours just on the knife-edge of coming. The ecstatic edge...

The edge...

So fucking incredibly...

...

...

...

Without warning, he was stumbling backwards, the abrupt loss of pleasure actually painful. No!

Blair was pushing up from the table, turning around... Jim realized that Blair had shoved him off and his whole body tensed with fury. The little sonuvabitch! He'd thought his guide was smarter than that. Jim snarled and took a step forward.

Blair cringed, his handcuffed hands fanned out in a placating gesture, as he began speaking frantically. He was pouring out fear scent and Jim smiled with grim satisfaction. That was more like it. Ignoring the babbling, frantic to be fucking again, Jim backhanded Blair and grabbed him as he staggered, intending to manhandle him back into position. Punishment would come later.

He caught the word 'Simon' and halted, confused. What did this have to do with Simon? He shook his head to clear away the fog and concentrated on Blair's voice.

"-- late back to work. Simon is going to want to know why. People are depending on you. Jim! Jim! You said twenty minutes, man. Give me a break here. You told me. You told me to do..."

Simon. Work. Yes. Jim let go of Blair and took a step back. Shit! He'd gotten completely absorbed in the pleasure and lost track of time.

Blair shuddered with relief, then straightened up, eyes locked on Jim's. "You weren't responding. I tried calling for almost five minutes and you just ignored me. I thought maybe it was a zone that I had to break you out of. You're okay now?"

Jim nodded, still breathing heavily, fists clenching at his side. Blair gave a shaky smile. "Good. Great. Don't hit me again, okay? I'm cooperating. Look..." He bent back over the table and spread his legs as far as the leg cuffs allowed. Jim's eyes were instantly drawn to the reddened hole, edges shiny with lube. "C'mon, Jim. No need for violence. Just... you gotta finish up now. Finish and get back to Simon."

Finish. God, yes, he needed to finish. Jim was on and in Blair in a second. It didn't take more than three strokes before he was back up to the previous level of pleasure and climbing. He groaned with mixed anticipation and regret. It hadn't been long enough -- never long enough -- but he had to finish now and it was going to be so very, very good at the end.

He was pounding into Blair, driving towards what he'd discovered was the best, most beautiful, most complete experience of his life. Almost there, almost...

And then he was in the middle of it, falling forward onto Blair, clutching desperately to his lifeline because it was too much, he was losing himself and it was so fucking exquisite he could die right now...

Once he'd managed to draw out every last microsecond of orgasm, the helpless, erratic pumping of his hips slowed down and he lay there gasping for air as Blair's racing heart beat pounded against Jim's skin. Blindly, he turned his head to lick the salty sweat from Blair's shoulder and smiled. The afterglow thrumming through his body mixed with a feeling of warmth towards the guide for giving him this. He was so grateful to Blair.

Jim's eyes popped open and the lick turned into a bite. Stretching up to speak into Blair's ear, he said sternly, "What do you say, guide?"

There was a slight pause, not long enough to warrant discipline, before Blair said, "Thank you, sentinel."

That was more like it. Jim pushed himself up a little and grabbed a fistful of Blair's hair. He leaned into Blair, letting his weight emphasize Blair's helplessness against him. "You're welcome, Blair."

Reluctantly, Jim pulled out and stood up, using his grip on Blair's hair to hold him down. There wasn't enough time for Blair to clean up so he reached for the butt plug and reinserted it. He liked the idea of Blair knowing all afternoon that Jim's come was still inside him, a further proof of ownership. He gave a carefully calculated tug on his hair to tell Blair to stand up before getting pulled upright. "Turn around."

Blair's cock was only half-hard. Jim was pretty sure he'd had an erection before fear made him lose it. Fear, anger, those scents were inevitable under the circumstances, but Jim preferred lust. He began briskly jacking Blair until he hit full hardness and the scent of arousal filled his nostrils. This is how I'll remember Blair all afternoon, Jim thought pleased.

Blair just stood there, head arched backward in Jim's grip, his eyes shut and lips pressed tight. His jaw was starting to swell.

"I hurt you," Jim said, startled.

Blair opened his eyes to throw Jim the most eloquently disbelieving look possible. "What the hell do you care?"

Jim frowned. "I care, Chief. The discipline's necessary for you to learn to behave. Once you do, it won't be necessary any more." He gently touched the bruise. "I didn't intend this."

"You really believe that, Jim?" Blair's gaze was steady and accusatory. Jim refused to look away. "I think you're starting to get a taste for it."

"You're wrong and someday you'll see that," Jim said firmly. "But I'm running late so let's get you settled." He let go of Blair and stepped aside. Blair looked at him thoughtfully for a few more seconds and then pushed off against the table and shuffled back to his room.

Jim grabbed the ball gag and the urinal from the bathroom and, after a moment's thought, went back into the kitchen where he took a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. He walked in just as Blair was awkwardly lowering himself into a kneeling position.

Jim put the urinal down next to the futon and held out the peas. "Put this on the bruise."

Blair lifted his head as he took the icepack and held it against his cheek.

Jim hesitated. He'd punished the guide for being obedient. It was a bit earlier than he'd planned for this reward, but this was his screw up not Blair's. "You've got a choice here, Chief. You can have one of your books for the rest of the afternoon or you can have a blanket. Which one do you want?"

Blair's face looked a little wistful at the mention of the blanket, but he didn't hesitate. "I want the book."

Jim went over to the bookcase where it stood in Blair's room, visible yet tauntingly out of reach, and pulled out one book without looking. He held it just out of Blair's reach and waited.

"Thank you, sentinel!" Blair took it eagerly but also asked, "Why can't I pick the book? There's other stuff I'd rather read."

Jim shook his head. "The only choices you get are the ones I allow. The sooner you accept that obedience is your only option, the better off you'll be." Blair dropped his eyes, jaw set stubbornly. Jim didn't need to be a mind reader to know what Blair was thinking. Jim opened his mouth to respond and shut it again. Let Blair think he was only going along until he could escape. He'd find out soon enough that the training was taking root so deep that there was no getting away. Stronger men than Blair Sandburg had been broken.

Instead, he said, "Cheer up, Chief. When the leg cuffs come off, you can read any book in this room." He didn't need the startled glance Blair threw him or the sudden frantic increase in heart beat to know Blair was grabbing that thin shred of hope. Blair had to try, and when he failed he'd be that much closer to knowing he belonged to Jim forever.

Jim reached down to grab the end of the chain. "Assume the position, guide," he ordered.

Jim was amused as Blair carefully laid the book down behind him, as if that hid his prize from Jim's eyes, and edged forward on his knees, head bowed. Jim brushed aside Blair's hair and attached the chain to Blair's collar, snapping the lock shut and giving it a good tug to make sure Blair was secured.

He reached down for the ball gag and held it stretched between both hands in front of Blair's face.

Blair shut his eyes. "Please, Jim," he whispered.

"You know you can't be trusted yet without the gag, Blair. Now open your mouth."

Sullenly, Blair complied and Jim was as careful as he could be, even tying the gag looser than usual to accommodate the swollen jaw.

"I'll make it up to you tonight," Jim promised with a cheerful leer and kissed him on the forehead. Then he straightened up and made himself walk out of Blair's room.

Even though he was running late, Jim took a few minutes to put the dishes in the sink and disinfect the table. He was rinsing out the cleaning rag and considering washing the dishes quickly rather than leaving them, when he had to acknowledge that he was procrastinating.

He gripped the edge of the sink fiercely. His senses were still focused on his guide, soaking up the sound and smell of him, and his body was humming with contentment and happiness. Jim wanted desperately to go back in that room, press his body against the length of Blair's, and lose himself again in their connection. But that way lay surrender to the guide and Jim was stronger than that. He had to be.

"Tonight," he reminded himself. "After the training session, you can take all the time you want then."

He took a deep breath, pushed away from the sink, and made himself go back to work.

End

Lunch Break, a Controlverse story by Caro Dee: carodee@popullus.net
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