TITLE: Plaything

AUTHOR: SentSlashFan (SSF)

AUTHOR'S EMAIL: sentslashfan@hotmail.com

FANDOM: The Sentinel

SERIES: Nope, at least I'm not planning any...

RATING: NC-17 for m/m, bondage, a bit of spanking, non-consensual activities, other fun things.

PAIRING: BLAIR/m, BLAIR/(I'm not telling)

SUMMARY: Blair wakes to find himself bound within a bizarre contraption and at the mercy of men who want to... play with him.

WARNING: m/m, some bdsm, non-consensual sexual activities, etc. Although, isn't that why we're here? Hey, if ya don't like this stuff, don't read it. But if ya do, enjoy!!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first time I've ever tried writing anything like this (bondage, etc.) Never having had the opportunity to try some of this fun stuff out myself (pout), I'm depending a lot on what I've, um, learned from reading as many slash stories as I can get my hands, on for the, uh, details. I hope my imagination is working within the realm of the possible!

FEEDBACK: Fine by me, public or private:

If you notice any glaring errors ("uh, it won't fit there!" or "hey, you forgot to have them do...") please let me know.

If you have any other CONSTRUCTIVE feedback that will help me when I write stories in the future, ("need more dialog" or "too much detail on such-and-such") I'd love to hear it. I love writing this stuff & want to get good at it. You'll benefit from my improvement, too, in the form of new stories .

ARCHIVE: Please, Mistress PEJA!

****************
Plaything

Blair came to awareness slowly. He felt sore and cold and groggy. There were no sounds around him, at least that he could hear. He tried to move his hands, but found them securely held in place, somehow attached to the surface on which he lay. His legs would not move either, but they seemed bent under him somehow; he could not feel his weight on them, but his hips and knees were definitely bent. And, judging by the coolness on his skin, he was naked. He shivered, from the cold and from a touch fear that sprang up in his belly. What was going on?

Struggling against whatever was making him feel so damned groggy--drugs, he supposed, remembering vaguely two men grabbing him as he left the anthro building late at night, and the smell of something like chloroform as a cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth--he forced his eyes open. As his heavy lids slid open, bright light attacked his eyes. He slammed the lids closed again. After a few moments, he hesitantly opened them again. His eyes were adjusting to the brightness, and he could now see... the floor? His head was laying between his arms, strapped into some kind of harness, which hid from view whatever was to his left and right and prevented him from moving his head much. He could see the floor; it was covered with a white, flecked tile, like they use sometimes in stores. Okay, that's real helpful.

He lifted his head as much as possible within the harness and tried to see his hands. But he could only lift it so far, as it was stopped by a padded strap in the harness. He could see that his wrists were tightly bound with padded cords that were attached to chrome tubes or pipes protruding from the surface of whatever he lay on, one tube next to each wrist. Although the cords were tight enough that he could barely move his hands, the padding kept the cords from digging into his skin. Well, one thing to be thankful for, right? Another shiver ran through him.

Looking a little higher--mostly by rolling his eyes upward--he could see a dark panel. There was a window of some sort set into the panel. It was about six feet away from him, was framed in wood, and was made of a dark-tinted glass he could not see through. One way glass? So others could see him, but he couldn't see them?... He definitely could not see anything reflected in its dark surface, other than several bright lights overhead. They were floodlights, set in round containers that were attached to tracks hanging from the ceiling. Adjustable, no doubt, to be assured of the best possible lighting.

There were also several dark half-globes suspended from various points in the ceiling. He wasn't sure what they were for, but recalled having seen similar covers over surveillance cameras in stores. Cameras?? He definitely did NOT like the direction his conclusions were heading.

Twisting his head as far to the left as he could within the restraints, he was just able to see the bottom of another window, identical to the first. What the hell?? Twisting to the right, he saw a third window. Okay, I'm starting to feel like a rat in a cage here. Or, considering this... whatever-the-hell-it-is... I'm trapped in, more like a butterfly pinned to a board. His heart was pounding faster as he learned more about the strange situation. Damn. He could think of a number of scenarios to explain this, and didn't like any of them.

Blair realized that the bizarre contraption he was encased in was designed to hold him in a particular position: torso and head horizontal--his face and belly pointed toward the floor; arms spread horizontally on either side of his shoulders and bent at the elbows so his forearms were parallel with his torso and head, as if he were skydiving or holding his arms up in the universal 'surrender' position; hips sharply bent, forcing his upper legs to point downward--and outward at an angle, he noted sourly--so his bent knees were spread wide apart. His lower legs were horizontal and parallel to his torso. To someone standing by Blair's left side, he must look something like a 'Z.'

Finally, he looked at the surface to which he was tied. His upper body was resting about four feet above the tiled floor, suspended by a clear, hard surface--plexiglass, perhaps--that was pierced here and there by several of the chrome tubes. Some tubes had hinges connecting them. Perhaps this thing could be swung around or adjusted somehow?

He strained against the bonds holding his head, trying to see the lower half of his body. He was just able to see his knees, which were resting on another plexiglass-type platform that was a foot or two lower than the platform on which his upper body rested. The distance was just right so that he was relatively comfortable. The chrome bars must be adjustable, he thought. Finally, padded straps around his wrists, shoulders, hips, knees, and ankles held him firmly in the position in which his captors apparently wanted him.

Blair noted that the lower surface, where his legs were secured, was only present under his feet, shins, and knees; it did not extend under his upper body. He also realized, with a growing horror, that with his knees spread so far apart, his bare ass was spread and open to the room behind him, and his cock and balls were dangling free between his legs, easily visible to anyone watching. Say from behind the dark windows. Or via the cameras.

And with the area between his legs open like it was, his ass and cock were easily accessible. Anyone could walk up between his legs and.... He closed his eyes and swallowed. This wasn't exactly helping keep his mind off of the... possibilities. He gulped, swallowing forcefully as he tried to contain his fear. Breathe in, he commanded himself, breathe out. Slowly. In, out....

When he had calmed a bit, he made himself continue his analysis to get his mind off this... whatever this was.

A second sheet of plexiglass supported his body from his hips to his head and arms. Like the lower half of the contraption, the upper platform was not solid; this part was shaped like a horseshoe; it supported the majority of his weight. The rounded part of the 'horseshoe' was tucked under the two long sides of the 'horseshoe,' which projected toward the wall beyond his head, served as a supporting platform for the rest of his body: his shoulders, the edges of his chest, and his arms rested on that. The harness that restrained his head was attached to chrome bars extending through the surface near where his arms were secured. There was nothing under his belly, most of his chest, or his head. This allowed his face, chest, abdomen, and groin to be... he gulped... easily accessible from above or below. Oh god....

The edges of the plexiglass were padded with a white material, soft, like lambswool, presumably to avoid giving him pressure-induced injuries. The padded cords gave further proof that whoever had done this didn't want him injured. At least Blair hoped like hell that was what it meant.

Okay, he thought, trying not to panic. So I'm laid out here like Sunday dinner. I wonder what they're going to... no, don't think about that, I don't want to know. Jim, this would be like a really good time to rescue me, okay?

Just then he heard the soft whisper of a door opening. His heart leapt as he thought that perhaps his wish had brought rescue. But the hope was dashed when a long, thin pair of legs--definitely too thin to be Jim's--appeared to his left, just within his limited visual range. He could see black leather pants, very tight, and black leather boots. Oh, boy. Definitely not good.

"Ah, I see you've awakened, my pet." The voice was low, smooth, and as cold as any voice Blair had ever heard. He shivered as a leather-encased hand ran over his long curls and down his back.

He twisted his head as far left as possible, trying to see the man's face. Peering above his arm, he saw a well-muscled, lightly-haired chest only partially covered by a black leather vest that was studded with various metal shapes. The man's nipples peeked out from under the edges of the vest, and Blair could see nipple rings in each. A diamond sparkled from between the hair covering the man's navel. The top of the leather pants were slung low, emphasizing the diamond and the smooth, rippled abdomen. The man's arms were bare, except for the supple leather gloves. His face looked handsome, but again there was a coldness in his eyes that made Blair afraid. Earrings pierced both lobes, and a ring was threaded through his left eyebrow. The man's hair was midnight black, with a streak of bright blue that began just over the ring in his eyebrow and continued over the top of his head.

Interesting-looking fellow.

Yeah, right. That was like saying an alligator or a grizzly bear looked kinda cute. Take it home as a pet, why dontcha? Blair gulped, trying not to let the fear bubbling inside him escape.

"Wh-who are you? What do you want?" Blair tried to keep his voice steady, but it wavered despite his efforts.

"I am your new Master, pet. I own you. You will do whatever I say, without hesitation, without question. Do you understand?" The man had moved out of Blair's visual range and was now by his left hip. His gloved finger was tracing Blair's spine and then slicked down the back of one thigh, all the way down to his foot.

Blair could think of nothing to say. How was one supposed to respond to such a statement? He yelped as a gloved hand suddenly struck the arch of his foot, hard. "Hey!"

"I am your Master, slime." The voice was low, menacing, and near his ear now. "When I ask you a question, you respond. Immediately. Do you understand?"

Blair gulped. "Uh, yeah, I guess.... Look, man, I don't know what--OW!!" The gloved hand had smacked his bare ass.

Then that voice again. "You call me 'Master,' and you only speak in response to my question or command. You do not ask questions. I am the Master, you are the worm. Do you understand?"

Oh god. "Yes." Another slap, harder this time. Blair gasped, struggling to control his breathing. "Um, yes, uh, Master."

"Better." The voice was less threatening. Now it was just cold.

Blair could hear the soft tap of the boots on the tiled floor as the man walked slowly around him. Now and then that damned gloved hand would touch him, caressing his ass, pinching a calf, trailing down an arm. Blair squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to quiver at the touch.

"Ow!" Another fucking slap was administered to his ass; this was starting to hurt, godammit!

"You will keep your eyes open unless I allow you to close them. Do you understand, bug?"

"Y-yeah." Blair opened his eyes. Then, "Uh, Master," he added quickly, before he could be hit again.

The man continued his inspection of Blair's bound body. "Ah, you have a beautiful body, pet. I shall enjoy ravaging you."

"Oh, god...." Blair moaned. Damn! Another sharp slap, this one across his shoulder. Why did the leather gloves seem to make the slaps hurt so much?

"Silence, worm. This is your last warning. Next time I shall have to whip you. Do you understand, worm?" The voice was cold, hard.

"Y-yes, uh, uh, ... Master," Blair stuttered, again shocked and terrified.

"Good." The voice was almost a purr. "Then we shall begin."

He clapped his hands twice, sharply. The sound echoed in the room. Then the door opened and two sets of legs, both bare, appeared next to Blair. As he watched, the two men who belonged to the legs dropped to their knees and kissed the tips of the 'Master's' boots.

With a sinking heart, Blair saw they were both naked. They wore leather and metal harnesses across their chests, abdomens, and groins, that hid nothing; indeed, the leather and metal were designed to emphasize their masculinity. And their nakedness. The leather straps that firmly held their cocks and balls did not escape his notice either. Oh god, and they were shaved; there was no pubic hair around their genitals. He swallowed again.

The Master's hands lightly touched the two men's shoulders and they rose gracefully to their feet. The three men walked behind Blair, where he could not see them. The door sighed open and closed. Maybe they had left??

Blair closed his eyes and lay silently, hoping this was just some weird dream. Maybe he would wake up and be in his bed at the loft....

Then he heard the sound of water running behind him. Okay, a sink? Moments later the two sets of bare legs reappeared in his visual range. He heard the soft thud of something being laid on the surface next to his left leg; it was mirrored with a similar sound on his right side. A dripping sound, as if water was being twisted from a cloth or sponge, came from both sides. He jerked slightly as a soft sponge began washing his bare skin. Oh, god.

"Uh, hey, guys? Um, I don't know why I'm here, but I sure don't want to be, and I was wondering if--" his words were cut off as a slap--much harder than those administered by the Master earlier--stung his ass.

"You will be silent," one man said.

Blair was silent. He was getting damn tired of being slapped like a naughty child. Not to mention that it hurt. A lot.

His attention returned to the two men as they began washing his body. The water was warm--a small comfort. One started at his shoulders and moved to his back, rinsing the sponge frequently in the small pan of water. The other stepped around and knelt next to his head. The man, who Blair dubbed 'Eagle' because of the eagle tattoo on his right forearm, did not look Blair in the eye, but proceeded to gently wash the captive man's face and neck. He then moved to his arms and hands. Next he swabbed Blair's armpits--the now-cooling water made Blair shiver--and washed the portions of Blair's chest that were accessible around the contraption. Blair's nipples, already somewhat erect from his nakedness in the cool room, now became harder, the little nubs protruding through Blair's chest hair. Eagle tweaked Blair's nipple ring once, smiling slightly when Blair gasped.

Meanwhile, the other guy--maybe he would have a tattoo, too?--was working his way down Blair's back. He smoothed the sponge over the smooth, strong muscles of the slender captive's back, then across the dip in Blair's lower back and over the smooth globes of his ass. Thankfully, both men avoided his genitals. At least for now. Blair swallowed compulsively again.

The two men continued down his body, one along his back, the other along his front. His abdomen and legs were swabbed, carefully, with a slow rhythm that might have been comforting in another situation. Say... when Blair was *consenting* to having someone do this. Finally, they washed his feet. Each toe was washed, the soles carefully swabbed. Blair sighed. He was shivering like crazy; the room was cold to begin with, and, now wet, he was freezing.

Eagle returned with a few fluffy white towels and gently blotted Blair's skin dry, starting at his head and working down to his toes. It helped, but he was still cold. Eagle again retreated.

He heard water running again in the sink. His heart sank when the two men returned and settled near his crotch. Okay, I can do this, he thought. He felt an additional strap--this one was leather--being laid across his ass, a few inches below the one across his hips. As they tightened it down, he winced: the leather bit into his reddened, tender asscheeks. And now he could not move his hips at all.

Warm water was brushed gently across his lower abdomen. Then the sponge surrounded his cock. Another sponge dabbed carefully at his balls, and at the soft skin around them. Despite his horror, and perhaps adding to it, he felt his body respond to the gentle caresses. His cock hardened somewhat, earning him another smile from Eagle. Blair closed his eyes in shame, feeling a redness suffuse his face.

Once his genitals had been cleaned to the men's satisfaction, one man--Blair decided to call him Bob, since he could see no tattoo or other distinguishing mark, and he needed to call him something--stood. The other rose and disappeared behind him, presumably to the sink. Blair realized with embarrassed horror that Bob was going to wash his ass. Gentle fingers spread his ass cheeks--god, he felt so exposed!--and slid the sponge down the crevice between his asscheeks. Bob dipped the sponge in the water again, then gently squeezed it so that water dripped onto Blair's anus. Blair jerked at the sensation. He made a sound that was half moan and half sob. Oh god, no, please....

Bob finally swished the sponge over the pucker of Blair's asshole, then dropped the sponge in the water and returned the pan to the sink.

Eagle, who had been working diligently over at the sink during Blair's most recent humiliation, now came over and sat on the floor near Blair's hips. Looking down as best he could, Blair saw another pan of water, a small pair of scissors, a can of shaving cream, a large bottle of baby oil, and several disposable razors. A small towel was spread on the floor under his hips. No... this couldn't be happening! "Noooo..." he moaned. He tried to choke back his sobs.

Blair's cock had softened again, and hung straight down from his body, pointing at the floor. He shuddered helplessly as Eagle reached toward his vulnerable groin.

After snipping away the longer pubic hair, Eagle carefully spread shaving cream over Blair's genital area. "Don't move. I don't want to hurt you," he murmured. It was the first thing--except for the sharp reprimand--either man had said since entering the room. Blair focused on remaining as still as possible. He sure as hell didn't want Eagle to slip with the razor!

The razor glided smoothly over his tender skin. Globs of shaving cream, speckled with his dark hairs, dropped onto the towel lying on the floor under his hips. The razor was replaced several times, to be sure the edge was sharp and would shave him cleanly and without injury.

Blair tried not to think about this. He was tied and bound such that he could not move. He was naked. Two strange men had washed his body and now were shaving around his cock, for god's sake. What would be next. He shook his head slightly, realizing he had an idea and really didn't want to know.

Eagle finished his work under Blair. He washed the remaining shaving cream away, then gently rubbed baby oil into the freshly shaved skin. Again, Blair was appalled when his cock started becoming hard at this stimulation. It was not meant to be stimulating, at least it didn't seem to be. But the feel of the man's gentle hands stroking his suddenly hypersensitive skin sent unwanted thrills through Blair's body.

Eagle then stood, taking with him the bowl, shaving cream, and a fresh razor. He quickly and efficiently shaved the area around Blair's asshole as Bob held his quivering asscheeks apart. Blair could feel his asshole tightening compulsively as the blade scraped the skin around it. But Eagle was good at this; he drew no blood. A quick wipe removed the remaining shaving cream, and supple fingers rubbed oil on this freshly revealed skin.

Bob and Eagle gathered the towel, pans, razors, and other paraphernalia, then moved back to the sink. For several minutes Blair lay alone, trying to recover any sense of dignity or control that he might have. He had to admit, he had little of either left.

As he lay, helpless, waiting for whatever these assholes were going to do to him next, he could not help but notice how his freshly shaved groin felt. The skin tingled and shivered, as the cool air caressed it. His cock was still slightly hard, to his dismay. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

A few minutes later, Eagle and Bob were again standing next to him. A large, clear, round bowl, looking somewhat like a giant fish bowl, was set on the floor near his chest. Huh? Then Blair gasped as he heard clicks and felt the platforms begin to swivel. After a sickening turn this way and that, he found himself half-laying, half-hanging, tilted sideways toward his left side. He could only see the wall with its dark-tinted window and parts of the ceiling and floor; the two men were behind him.

A cold glob of something was dabbed on his asshole. Blair took a shuddering breath, expecting to feel a cock shoved into him. But there was only a tiny poking sensation as the smooth tip of a hose or bottle was slipped inside his clenched hole. Eagle spoke again. "You will accept this enema and hold the water until I say you may release it. If you do not obey, you will be severely punished."

Enema? Severely punished? He swallowed; it was difficult around the lump in his throat.

Blair heard a liquidy squishing sound as he felt the enema water being forced inside him. The feeling of the warm water filling him was strange, odd, almost--but not quite--pleasurable. No, dammit! He gasped as the liquid continued to be forced into his now-stretched insides. Damn, it felt like they were pumping an ocean into him! He moaned, "Oh, god, stop, please! Too much!"

There was no response, other than the continued flow of the water into his bowels. A hand on his asscheek warned him that the enema bottle was about to be removed. Remembering the warning, he focused on squeezing shut his asshole, to keep the water inside him. He couldn't believe he was actually cooperating, but part of him knew that he really didn't want to experience whatever 'severe punishment' these people might dream up.

The two men moved away, back to the sink again. Water splashed, reminding him--as if he needed reminding, given the incredible pressure in his bowels!--that he had to keep the liquid inside him or risk punishment.

He felt his insides begin to twitch and cramp. Another moan forced its way from his lips, then a sob. "Please! Please, I can't take this any longer! Oh, god, it hurts!"

No response, except for a quiet step as one of the men came over to him and placed his hand gently on Blair's ass.

Concentrating on keeping his ass clenched shut, Blair tried to fight the sobs that fought to explode from his chest. Just when he thought he was going to have to let the liquid spurt out, regardless of the consequences, he saw Eagle pick up the clear bowl. The contraption Blair was strapped to again swiveled and swung, making his stomach roil. He was now upright, hanging from the straps, staring up at the window in the wall in front of him. He jerked as he felt the mouth of the bowl pressed around his bared asshole.

"You may release now."

Sobbing in relief, trying to keep down his feelings of revulsion over the bizarre events that were happening, Blair relaxed his sphincter muscle. Water gushed from his bowels and splashed into the clear bowl. Wave after wave of cramps swept through him, each time propelling more liquid from his guts into the container. He closed his eyes tightly, trying not to imagine what the liquid must look like. Oh god, these people were sick, sick, sick.

Finally, the cramps stopped. He relaxed slightly, grateful for the release. The men did not remove the bowl, though; it was a good thing, too, as a couple more cramps forced out the remaining contents of his sore, distended bowels.

They finally removed the bowl and moved away. Blair heard them dump the contents into something--presumably a toilet, as it flushed when they were done.

Water ran in the sink again--at least they were clean, Blair thought sourly--and the two men returned, smelling of soap but remaining out of his visual range. Despite his stomach's complaints, the contraption was twisted and swung around until he again lay face-down. Sponges wiped over his genital area, cleaning away the filth they had forced from his body. Then his ass was carefully washed.

He was now clean, inside and out.

He was ready.

For what, he didn't know, didn't want to know, and certainly did not want to experience. Like he had a choice.

After removing the strap that held his ass tightly to the platform, the two men again retired to the sink. Running water suggested they were cleaning up the various materials they had used on him. When they finished, they apparently just stood there; Blair did not hear them move or leave through the door.

Okay, now what? Just gonna stand there and admire my ass? He gulped as he realized that it was quite possible that was exactly what they were doing. He almost snapped out, "Take a picture, why don't you?" when he realized that it was quite possible--quite likely--that they were doing just that. He remembered the tinted windows and the surveillance-camera-type globes hanging from the ceiling. A sudden feeling of faintness swept through his head. He closed his eyes and tried to suppress the sobs that were again welling up within him.

After what seemed like ages, but was probably only a few minutes, Blair heard the door open. The tap, tap sound of boot heels told him the 'Master' guy had returned. Oh, yay. This should be fun. Not. Blair felt his body tense in anticipation. If only he could fight back! But he couldn't even move.

Again, leather-gloved hands trailed along his skin. They paused near his ass, tickling the freshly shaved skin, drifting ever-so-softly over his tender pucker, causing a delicious shiver to course through Blair's body, despite his determination not to respond to anything they did to him. His breath caught in his throat, and he squeezed the tears back so they couldn't escape his eyes. Despite his efforts, one, two, then three tears dripped onto the tile. Oh, god….

"Very good, my pretty pet. We shall have many happy hours together."

Hours? Happy??? Oh, man....

The Master clapped his hands twice, and Eagle and Bob appeared silently, one on either side of the captive man. Each held assorted leather and metal objects. They knelt and began attaching various chains and clips and leather straps to his body. Blair stared at them hollowly. Soon there were nipple clips attached to his tender nubs. Leather straps crisscrossed his chest, and connected with chains leading to a leather strap around his waist. A leather cockring was wrapped around the base of his soft penis and then wound back to separate and surround his balls; the cockring was then connected to the waist strap by a thin chain.

Blair was beginning to feel numb. This was all just too much; if he could just sort of space out... zone, like Jim could-- Jim, where are you!!--maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He tried to let his attention wander, tried to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

A sharp slap on his ass brought his attention crashing back to the present. The two men were out of his sight again. He could see the Master's boots, below his head.

"Now, pet, we shall begin. I am going to place my collar around your neck. This will indicate that I own you. I will remind you of the rules. You will do exactly what I tell you to, immediately. You will not speak without permission. And you will not attempt to hurt me, or any of the others here, say, by biting? Or your punishment will be ten times worse that what you have done." The voice dropped into an arctic-cold range. "I can promise you that I am well able to cause *excruciating* pain, and to make it last a very, very long time. You would regret, beyond belief, what you have done, should you try anything stupid." The voice again returned to its normal, low, soft, tone. "Do you understand this, my pet?"

Blair nodded dumbly.

A sharp slap reminded him a verbal response was required.

"Yes--Master. I understand." His voice sounded distant, dazed. No wonder; that was how he felt, too.

"Very good." A leather collar appeared in the man's hand, inches in front of Blair's face. "Kiss the collar, slave."

Blair looked up at him a look of amazement and disbelief on his face. But one glimpse of the man's expression convinced Blair to do as he was told. He briefly kissed the leather when it was brought to his lips. Then the collar was attached around his neck. A small padlock closed it. The man quickly attached some of the other straps and chains that had been put on Blair's body to hooks on the collar. When he was done, Blair couldn't help but feel like a dog. Or a slave, he thought sourly.

"Now, slave, you are mine."

Okay, I guess slave is appropriate, Blair thought. Oh god, oh god, oh god....

"First you shall pleasure me."

The harness holding Blair's head was twisted up and back slightly, so that Blair was looking forward more than down toward the floor. This left him staring directly at the man's leather-covered crotch. No....

Bob moved next to the Master, knelt, then silently opened the leather pants, reverently freeing the Master's--incredibly large!--cock. Blair stared at the huge, swollen organ. It looked about two feet long and six inches thick. It wasn't really, he knew, but damn, it sure *seemed* like it was that big! But then, Blair had never stared at another man's cock like this before, either. He had never had sex with another man, other than jerking off now and then with a couple other teenage boys, back in high school. It wasn't that he would mind sex with a man--with his upbringing he was certainly open-minded about sex!--he just hadn't met a man tempting enough for him to want to try it.

Well, a small voice whispered in his head, he *would* like to experiment with Jim, but--no, don't go there. Jim's as straight as they come.

"Kiss the tip of my cock, worm."

Swallowing, Blair pursed his lips and dutifully kissed the huge red-purple head when it was presented to him.

"Now lick it. First across the top, then around the head. Do a good job, bug."

Blair closed his eyes and tentatively licked the head. A sharp slap on the back of his head was accompanied by a command to keep his eyes open. He reluctantly obeyed.

"Open your mouth and suck in the head, gently. And remember what I told you about trying to hurt me, worm." This last sentence was accompanied by a painful squeeze to his head, and was delivered with so much menace that Blair shuddered in fear.

Taking a breath, he reluctantly opened his mouth and closed his lips around the head of the Master's cock. He felt pressure from the cock, and sucked the head into his mouth.

Interesting sensation, this. He'd had blow jobs often enough from some of the women he'd dated. He had always enjoyed them immensely, but had never really thought about what it might feel like to be on the receiving end of a cock thrust into one's face. The head--just the head, oh god, what would it be like when the rest...--don't think about it!-- filled half of his mouth. He struggled momentarily against the feeling of being smothered. What if he gagged? Would he throw up? Would he be punished?

"Lick and suck it, bug."

Struggling to focus, Blair began to do as he had been commanded. He could hear the man above him sigh with pleasure; apparently Blair was doing okay so far. Oh, man....

As the Master became more excited, he started to move his cock farther into Blair's mouth. When Blair started gagging, leather-sheathed fingers reached down and gently stroked his throat. "Just relax your throat muscles. You can take all of me. Just relax."

Relax? Oh god.

Blair tried to obey. The cock began sliding in and out, farther back into his throat with each thrust. He found he was indeed able to accept the whole length of the Master's cock into his mouth.

"Excellent, my pet. You are doing well." The Master's voice was smooth, soft, almost a purr.

Blair felt inexplicably pleased at the praise. What the hell was the matter with him? He shouldn't be so glad to give this man what he was demanding! But some part of him responded to the praise nonetheless.

Fingers stroked Blair's long curls; soft moans floated down from above; the taste of precum spread through his mouth; the musky smell of the Master's thickly-haired groin filled Blair's nostrils; the Master's body thrust toward him and away, hypnotically. Blair concentrated on accepting the Master's cock completely. A slight pressure from the fingers caressing his head warned him moments before globs of cum shot into his mouth. He tried not to choke as wave after wave flowed into his throat.

"Swallow it all, that's a good pet." The voice caressed his ears as the fingers again stroked his throat.

Blair swallowed and sucked until the Master's cock lay quietly on his tongue. It began growing soft, and the Master pulled it from Blair's mouth.

"Very good, my pet. I see you will do well here."

Blair sobbed. What the hell was he doing? Why was he cooperating? Oh man, please let me out of here, he thought.

Bob and Eagle reappeared, silently. Eagle offered him a straw that was sticking out of a bottle of water. He gladly sipped the water, grateful for its coolness. Then Eagle removed the bottle, setting it on the floor, and released a couple of the straps holding his head. Bob slid a leather blindfold over Blair's eyes, checking carefully to make sure Blair could not see anything. Then Eagle refastened the straps. Now what?

The door opened and someone else moved into the room. Hands he had not felt before ran over his body caressing, stroking, almost worshipping him. Blair tried in vain to move away. The soft, reverent, touches sent shivers through Blair's body. Oh, man, why did this feel good? He was not doing this voluntarily, dammit! And it felt like his body was betraying him when it liked what these people were doing to him. But it did feel good.

A finger traced Blair's cock from root to tip. A small chuckle reached his ears as the person--man, from the sound of the voice--saw the cock stiffen at his touch. Then the finger swirled around the head of Blair's cock, making the organ harden even more.

The teasing hand moved lightly between Blair's legs and traced a path to his tender, shaved asshole. It traced a circle around it, then pressed, gently at the opening. Blair's muscles tensed automatically. The man chuckled again and then moved his hand away from the quivering hole.

Blair heard him move toward his head, and heard him stand right in front of his face, as Master had stood only minutes ago. Oh, god, was he going to have to suck off this guy, too?

Master spoke from the side. "Slave. Here is another cock for you to suck. You will be gentle and careful and cause no harm. Do you understand?"

"Ye--yes, Master," Blair said. He felt like crying.

"Very good, slave." Blair felt the Master's hand softly caress his hair. Again, Blair was shocked at how pleased he was at Master's praise. This was demented, man.

Blair jerked a little when he felt the head of the second man's cock touch his lips. With a little sob, he parted his lips and allowed the hot organ access to his mouth. The cock was gently pushed into his mouth, and Blair began licking and sucking it. The stiff rod grew harder and longer at his ministrations, but the man standing in front of him did not move in and out of his mouth right away. Instead, he seemed content to let Blair give him pleasure with his lips and tongue.

Finally, the pleasure became too great for the man Blair was sucking and the cock began to slide in and out, pushing farther back with each thrust. Blair felt Master's fingers caress his throat, as before, and obediently relaxed his throat muscles. The cock snaked down into his throat and strong hands grasped his head and held it tightly. Blair could hear the man's breathing increase as he fucked Blair's face, then soft moans floated down. Finally, with a cry, the man shot his crème down Blair's throat. Again encouraged by Master's gentle strokes on his throat, Blair swallowed all the semen the man had pumped into his mouth.

The cock grew soft in Blair's mouth, and he idly stroked it with his tongue, sucking gently and tenderly. The man withdrew his cock, caressed Blair's curls, and moved silently away.

Blair heaved a sigh of relief. Oh, please, let this be over! Jim, where the hell are you?

He heard movement beside him, then a whirring sound as the device he was tied to was tilted again, leaving him in a more vertical position. Oh, great, now what? he thought.

He jumped when warm fingers caressed his cock. Of all the things he had expected, this was certainly not one of them. But whoever was now standing--sitting?--in front of him was stimulating Blair's penis with his hands. And Blair's traitorous cock liked it. Very much. Too much, he thought grimly, biting his lower lip. But it was no use: the stroking and squeezing felt too good. He moaned softly, allowing his eyes to ease shut behind the blindfold.

The gentle stimulation continued until Blair's cock was so hard he thought it would burst. He was panting with need, wishing the man would just stroke him to orgasm so he could be relieved of this screaming need. He suddenly realized what he was thinking: he WANTED this man to get him off? But then he mentally shrugged, thinking, oh, hell, who cares? It feels so incredibly good. The man seemed to know exactly where and how and how hard or soft to touch him. Blair sighed, relaxing into the pleasure.

It was another great shock when someone else placed their hands on his ass cheeks. Blair felt his body jolt at the touch. Then cool gel was rubbed around his hole. Oh, no, this was just to get him ready for…. Oh, god….

A gentle pressure at his asshole signaled the entrance of something, something… long and narrow and cool and smooth into his body. Blair had expected a cock to be shoved roughly into him, but this was something else. He realized it was a dildo of some sort. Opening him for--?!? His breathing became ragged.

The man in front of him was continuing to stroke Blair's cock, which had softened somewhat from his reaction to the manipulations of and intrusions into his ass. The man reached down and gathered Blair's balls in his other hand, stroking and softly squeezing them, rolling them gently between his fingers. The skin around his cock and balls seemed dramatically more sensitive than normal, because of the shaving. Blair's attention was thoroughly grabbed by the incredible feelings created by this stimulation.

He only noticed distractedly when the dildo was removed.

Moments later, a larger dildo--longer, thicker--was inserted into his ass. Blair stiffened, but the man holding his cock chose this moment to take the length of it into his mouth. Blair shouted at the intensely pleasurable sensations of the dildo filling his ass and the hot, moist mouth surrounding his cock. One hand kept caressing his balls. The mouth holding his cock slid back and forth, the tongue sliding around his hard, straining organ. Blair felt weak, as if his arms and legs were trembling. He cried out as the dildo was shoved in as far as it would go. Streaks of lightening seemed to race through his body as the sensations swept over and through him. The dildo was pulled partway out, then pushed back in, faster and faster, until the rhythm that matched that of the mouth around his cock.. The incredible pleasure pushed Blair close to the edge. The men seemed to sense this; one released the cockring, then both increased the speed and strength of the stimulation to match his ragged panting and cries of "Yes, oh, god, yes, ohhhhhh…."

Blair came with a loud shout, almost weeping with the overwhelming feelings that washed through him. Some part of his mind stood apart, reminding him of the situation--captured, tied down, washed, cleaned, face-fucked against his will--but somehow it wasn't as important as it had been before. This felt so, so, oh god, so damned good.

He hung limply within his bizarre prison, breathing hard, trying to recover. He felt the cockring refastened around the base of his softening organ. Then the structure he was tied to moved again, returning him to his original, horizontal position. His face pointed toward the floor, and his ass toward the rear wall. He felt the straw pressed against his lips and took another sip of the cool water. Eventually, his breathing calmed.

There was movement and sound behind him: the door opening, several sets of footsteps moving in and out. Finally, Blair realized that the noise had stopped, leaving only one person in the room with him. The others had left. Why? Blair tensed, wondering what was coming next.

Then hands were removing the straps that held his head in place. The blindfold was removed from his eyes, and Blair looked into a pair of sky-blue eyes--very familiar, very, very welcome blue eyes.

"Jim!" he gasped. "Oh god, thank you for coming, I, they, oh, Jim…."

Jim smiled at him. "Yes, Chief, it's me. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, but I'll be doing better once you get me out of this thing!"

Jim smiled at him again. He unlocked the collar around Blair's neck, tossing the collar and despised lock into a corner of the room. But he did not reach out to unfasten the other straps. Instead, he reached one hand out and tenderly stroked Blair's soft curls. Blair started panicking, wondering why his friend wasn't releasing him. Then Jim leaned forward, slipped his hands around Blair's head, his fingers twining through the captive man's long, thick, dark curls, and kissed Blair, deeply.

Blair was flabbergasted. Jim--kissing him?!? What? Why? Huh??? He was even more shocked as he tasted semen in Jim's mouth. Blair's own semen. Oh my god. JIM?!? *JIM* had sucked him off?!? The tongue thrusting into his mouth was insistent, and Blair found he could not--and, to his everlasting surprise, did not want to--resist. He stared into Jim's eyes for a long moment, then closed his eyes and returned the kiss, as fiercely as Jim was kissing him. Desire rose in Blair. He suddenly found himself wanting Jim, wanting his body and his love and his soul; he wanted to be possessed by Jim, and to possess him in return.

Jim finally broke off the kiss and leaned back slightly, looking into Blair's deep blue eyes. The man's expression was pleased. And loving. And... lustful. Blair suspected his expression was similar.

Solemnly, Jim produced another, more elaborately decorated leather collar. He held it up, looking into Blair's eyes for... permission? Acceptance? Apparently he saw acquiescence, for he reached forward, held the leather to the swollen lips for Blair to kiss it-- which Blair did willingly, as he gazed into his friend's eyes, inhaling the scent of the leather and that of his beloved Sentinel. Then Jim fastened it around the younger man's neck.

"You are mine, now." Jim sounded relieved and victorious. Standing and thrusting his fists into the air, his voice sliding from its normal, pleasant timbre to an almost feral scream, he shouted, "He is mine! MINE!!" Jim's fists and arms were quivering from the strength of his call.

He paused, took a deep breath, then turned to Blair. Jim's voice dropped to a pitch that was low, soft, hypnotic, almost even threatening, causing a thrill to run through Blair. "You are mine, now."

"Yes, Master, I am yours," Blair said, lowering his eyes and head submissively. He trusted his friend, his Sentinel. His Master. And he loved him.

Satisfied, Jim inhaled deeply and then let out the breath in a whoosh. He slowly moved around Blair, trailing his hands over the bound man's naked body. Blair was still unable to move, except for his now-freed head. He turned, thrilling at the gentle feel of Jim's leather collar around his neck--'I belong to Jim!' his heart sang within him--and watched over his shoulder as Jim trailed his strong, sensitive fingers over Blair's quivering body. Whenever Jim touched him, shivers of anticipation and pleasure shot through him. The larger man took his time, stroking Blair's chest and nipples, now and again gently tugging on the nipple clips and other metal and leather looped around his bound body. He knelt, allowing his tongue and lips to repeat the path taken by his fingers. Blair squirmed and moaned, as tingly pleasure followed Jim's teasing and loving touches.

Then Jim's fingers brushed across Blair's abdomen and trailed around the shaven areas between his legs, but not-- QUITE--touching his cock or balls. As his fingers stroked over Blair's hips and legs, and then up and over his ass cheeks, Blair found himself trembling with fear and desire. He couldn't even spare enough brain power to be amazed at his sudden desire to be fucked silly by his tough, rugged, incredibly masculine, incredibly handsome partner.

Jim stepped toward Blair's head and brought his hand to Blair's mouth. "Lick it, slave," he ordered in that low, almost threatening voice that made Blair's belly quiver with excitement and a touch of fear. Blair obediently licked Jim's palm until the surface was slick and wet. He looked trustingly into the Sentinel's eyes as he did so. Jim looked back at him solemnly.

Jim moved until he was near Blair's hips, then slid his hand over Blair's throbbing cock. The now-hard rod was sticky from Jim's earlier ministrations, but the sure strokes coaxed a new batch of precum from the head, which Jim used to make everything deliciously slippery again.

Blair moaned loudly. "Oh, god, yes. Yes, Jim--Master!--oh, please!" These were definitely the same hands from before. Blair felt himself sliding into a nebulous place that only consisted of pleasurable stroking and fantastic sensations.

Jim's other hand slid over the perfect globes displayed for his pleasure. He caressed and kneaded Blair's ass, occasionally slapping or pinching the reddened asscheeks--hard! Blair alternately cried out and moaned, absorbed in the pleasure and the pain, which alternated and blurred and blended until pleasure was pain... and pain was pleasure. Always, soft strokes smoothed over abused skin, gentling and soothing the captive man and driving his passion to fire- bright levels.

Jim released Blair's cock and removed the strap holding Blair's hips firmly to the platform, allowing the moaning, trembling slave enough freedom to wiggle his gorgeous, incredibly fuckable ass. Jim again stroked the shiny, red globes, bending down to kiss and lick the hot surfaces. His finger trailed down the crease between the smooth globes until he reached the dildo filling Blair's ass. He pushed and released it several times, until Blair was moaning with pleasure and begging inarticulately for release. Then, carefully, gently, he withdrew and discarded it.

Jim stepped nearer, between Blair's spread legs, until his large, hot cock was bumping gently against Blair's ass. Blair felt as if he was going to lose it just from that; his cock strained from the constricting band of the leather cockring, aching with fullness and heat and need. His Sentinel's hot, velvety-hard cock, brushed against his ass…

But then fear washed through Blair like ice water through his veins as he thought about what Jim was preparing to do. His breath was ragged, his fear caused tremors throughout his body. Oh, man, ohmanohmanohman, was he ready for this? Yes! No! cried different parts of his mind.

Like it *matters* whether I want it or now! he thought with despair. I can't do anything to stop this. Nothing! I belong to Jim now. And, and.... "Noooo...." he whimpered softly. Jim stroked him gently, until his body relaxed slightly.

Blair felt tears well up at Jim's tenderness and love. And then he realized that he *did* want it. He wanted Jim's cock. Wanted it up his ass, godammit! He wanted Jim to fuck him. And he wanted Jim to fuck him hard and fast, wanted Jim to claim him, body and soul. He moaned with need and desire. "Jimmmmm...."

Jim's hands moved momentarily away from Blair's body, then they returned, spreading more of the cool gel onto Blair's quivering, twitching asshole. Jim's long, strong finger slid inside, lubing him well. Another moment passed as Jim lubed his own cock. Then one big, firm, warm hand reached around and stroked Blair's cock again, evoking a whimper of pleasure from the slave. Jim leaned forward, kissing and licking the tender skin at the small of Blair's back, causing the younger man to whimper again, louder, with the strength of his need.

Once Jim knew Blair was ready--and he, of all people, could tell when Blair's body was ready!--he pushed the head of his cock against the inviting, desired hole.

But Blair started breathing rapidly; fear of being hurt, of pain, of the unknown temporarily overwhelmed his lust.

Jim left his cock snuggled against Blair's asshole, but did not push any more. He murmured softly to his Guide, reassuring him, reaffirming his love. And he stroked Blair's cock firmly, simultaneously calming and exciting the younger man.

Then, when Blair was again relaxed enough that he would not be hurt, Jim pressed his cock against, and into, Blair's body. Blair gasped, then found himself sucking in huge lungfuls of air as the sensations overwhelmed him. He had never, never, ever felt anything like this. Ever. Time and space and life and thought were suspended as Jim filled his body and mind with pleasure. The thick cock pushed farther in, and farther, filling him, pushing against his somewhat resistant muscles; Jim was completing Blair in a way he hadn't realized he'd wanted/needed. Farther, harder, Jim pushed, until his balls bounced gently against Blair's straining body.

Blair was quivering and shaking, crying out at the exquisite pleasure. Jim continued to stroke Blair's cock as he slid his own cock slowly--first not-quite-out of Blair's ass, then all the way back in until his balls again nestled against Blair. "Oh, god, Jim, fuck me! Fuck me hard! Ohhhhh...." Blair panted and groaned, wanting this to go on forever--Oh, god, how good it felt to have that cock in his ass!--

And the two men, friends, partners, Sentinel and Guide, became one in body and mind and soul and movement and goals. Jim fucked Blair hard, slamming against him, repeatedly flinging Blair's tightly bound body against the padded restraints, stimulating and exciting himself *and* his partner to a level he had not believed possible.

Sensing that Blair was so incredibly ready, ready, ready!, Jim deftly released Blair's cockring. Without missing a beat, he altered the angle of his thrusts just so, until he was hitting Blair's prostate; Blair shouted at the unexpected intensity of the pleasure this caused, and pushed back eagerly against Jim's strokes, seeking release. He shouted and cried in pleasure, completely un-self-conscious. Jim echoed his cries, his pleasure doubled by that of his lover.

After only a few more thrusts, Blair cried out as a tsunami of pleasure tore through his body. He was dimly aware of his cum shooting out, covering Jim's hand and splashing onto the floor. As he panted, gasping for air, and tried to keep from passing out, he felt Jim stiffen over him. With a final, almost vicious thrust and a feral cry of victory, Jim slammed hard into Blair's body and then froze, his cock deep within the smaller man's ass, as his cum was released deep into his partner's body.

They remained as they were for long moments. Finally, Jim slid his hands up and over Blair's back, stroking and gentling his trembling partner. Jim's cock softened, and he pulled out of Blair, smiling slightly at Blair's gasp of disappointment at his loss. Jim looked at Blair's still-gaping asshole, feeling a thrill at knowing he had finally entered that coveted spot. He stroked it gently, feeling Blair shiver at the sensation.

Jim moved away from Blair, and up around the apparatus until he was near Blair's head. He knelt, and pressed a kiss against the younger man's reddened, swollen lips. He moved back slightly, looking into Blair's eyes.

Would Blair hate him now?

Blair looked at him, dazed. But there was love and astonishment in those deep blue eyes as well. "Oh, god, Jim. I… I never… but it was so fucking fantastic…" Tears welled up and slid down Blair's face.

Jim reached up and smoothed away the tears with the backs of his fingers. "Shhh, it's okay. It's all right, Chief."

"Yeah, yeah," Blair sobbed. "Yeah, it's all right."

Jim carefully, swiftly, released the bonds securing his partner to the strange apparatus. He helped Blair get off of it and stand up, gathering him tightly against his strong body when it became apparent that the young man's legs were weak and shaky. He held him lovingly within his embrace, relishing the feeling of their bare bodies pressed together. Then Jim snagged the water bottle and held it up for Blair to take a drink. When the younger man finished, Jim kissed him gently, put his arm around Blair's shoulders, and led him toward the door.

They moved out into a hallway and walked several yards until they reached a door. Jim opened the door and ushered his partner into what proved to be a dimly lit bedroom. They moved into the large bath that opened off to one side, and Jim turned on the water, checking until it was nice and warm. He removed the leather and chains tied around Blair's body, finishing with the collar, which he had Blair kiss again. The collar was laid carefully on the vanity.

Then the two men moved under the warm spray. They held each other for long moments, kissing each other eagerly, disbelievingly; they lovingly soaped each other's bodies with the herbal shower gel, caressing skin and cocks and backs and asses and arms and nipples and hands. After rinsing off and kissing long and slow and passionately under the water, they stepped from the shower.

Jim turned off the water and pulled several towels from the shelf over the sink. They toweled each other off, with Jim spending extra time drying and combing out Blair's long curls. When he finished, he lifted the leather collar to Blair's lips, then lovingly attached it around his lover's neck. He bent down and gently kissed Blair.

After hanging the towels to dry, they moved back into the bedroom. Jim settled Blair into the huge bed, covered him with the soft comforter, and opened the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice on the nightstand. He poured them each a glass, then slid under the covers next to Blair.

"Ah, my little love slave. I love you so much." He smiled tenderly, and reached over to kiss Blair's lips.

Fingering the strip of leather fastened around his neck, the symbol of Jim's ownership of him, Blair smiled back, softly returning the kiss. "I love you, too... Master." His shy smile was reflected in Jim's loving gaze.

They sipped the champagne, then set the glasses aside. Snuggling up together, they again whispered their love to each other, then slid quietly into sleep.

Note: Jim & Blair got the one--and only--copy of the video that was made. Wouldn't want to have to worry about blackmail or anything, now would we?