Posted: 23 Sept, 2004

To Walk Behind

It came to him in a dream. Not in a wild, life-changing vision; not during a spirit walk with his jaguar; not even in one of those oddly mystical dreams he had that always left him feeling he had missed more than he had gotten.

No, this time, it was just a regular dream and when he woke, he knew.

He'd been in the jungle -- that much had been familiar.

He'd been at the Temple -- he'd recognized it immediately.

But there hadn't been any mystical mumbo jumbo, no promises he had to make, or journeys he had to experience. No commitments to a way or a path.

He'd just been in the jungle, at the temple, and he'd been -- waiting.

Waiting for the lesson to begin, for the message to be made clear, for something to happen.

But nothing had happened, at least nothing he'd recognized at the time. But when he'd awoken, he'd known. The knowledge had just been there, as if it was something he had always known, and maybe he had. Maybe he'd just never wanted to admit it.

He was the Sentinel.

Blair was the Guide.

The Sentinel needed the Guide, but...

The Guide needed the Sentinel as well.

There was a bond between them.

It existed on the spirit plane.

It existed in their minds, in the recognition they both had that their lives were somehow linked.

It existed in their hearts. Jim had known for some time now, that he would gladly die for Blair. And Blair had already demonstrated he was willing to die for Jim.

But after the dream, Jim had known that the bond needed to be physical as well. There had to be a physical connection that supported the other connections in their lives.

And it wasn't just a sexual connection, though sex would be part of it. But the primitive part of Jim, the most primal part that was Sentinel, demanded that the Guide submit to his Sentinel. Blair was going to have to submit.

But Jim didn't want to force his Guide, or scare him, or make him run if he felt he was losing control. He knew that Blair, for all his free love and hippie, go-with-the-flow upbringing, was a man who needed to be in control. Maybe his need for control wasn't as obvious to the unskilled observer as Jim's same need, but it was there nonetheless. Blair was flexible, Blair was willing to adapt, but he still managed to bend and adapt in ways that let him make the choices, that left him in control of the situation.

And when he wasn't in control, he reacted just as badly as Jim, making clear the lie that only Jim had fear-based responses.

So, when Jim had awoken from the dream, when he'd yawned and stretched and realized how hard his cock was, and his fuzzy brain had slowly come aware, he'd begun to think of how he could make Blair submit.

How the Sentinel could train his Guide.

It wasn't a new thought for him. He'd had urges, images of pinning Blair down and fucking him senseless, visions of Blair on his knees, those pouty lips stretched wide around hard, wet cock, silky hair teasing his shaft as he pushed in and out of the welcoming warmth of Blair's mouth. Images that stirred the Sentinel within him and made the man fight for control.

But as much as the Sentinel wanted his Guide, he, Jim, the man, wanted Blair. And he wanted him willing and eager and fully participatory.

Now, if he had to use a little covert ops trained prompting to get him that way, well, it was about time all that knowledge got used for a worthwhile purpose, wasn't it?

It would take some effort, but he'd never been afraid of hard work, and had always found that the journey could be as enjoyable as reaching the destination. No, he didn't mind putting forth a little effort. It would have to be gradual. It would have to seem natural. A thousand seemingly random events, touches, looks, words, that were in reality carefully scripted to lead toward his intended goal. This wouldn't be about the Sentinel emerging and ruthlessly claiming his Guide, possibly breaking the man in the process.

No, this would be a slow slide into domination and submission, into pain and pleasure, an unending string of moments of heated touch, and hints of sex scenting the air, and looks that could scorch from across a room. This would be the covert operation to end all covert operations.

It would take time, but it was bound to be a pleasurable and exciting investment of time.

And he had no concern that he was wooing the unwilling. Sentinel senses had known of Blair's arousal every time it had occurred. He'd smelled the Blair's sudden release of pheromones when he would come out of the bathroom, broad, smooth chest bare and clad in no more than a towel around his waist. He'd heard the frantic jacking off that Blair had somehow thought could be hidden in the shower. Heard the whispered cries of, "Jim, Jim, Jim," as Blair stroked himself to climax in the middle of the night.

It would be seduction, a slow, sensual slide into submission.

And he'd smiled as the plan began to take form.

He'd started by teaching Blair his place -- literally.

It had been surprisingly easy to train the younger man to always walk a half-step behind him. Not far enough behind to make conversation difficult or for anyone to comment on, because, after all, Jim was so much taller than Blair, it only made sense that his longer legs would eat up the ground faster than his smaller friend's. That half-step was easily taken for the shorter man's not quite successful attempt to keep up with his taller partner.

And it had been astonishingly easy to train Blair. In two short weeks, Blair was consistently following his Sentinel, never walking fully beside him.

Jim hadn't had to say anything, hadn't had to really do anything. He'd just ignored everything Blair said to him unless it was said from that position of a half-step behind. If they were standing side-by-side, and Blair spoke, then Jim would move forward a bit and wait, and sure enough, Blair would repeat himself. At first, Jim had to place a hand on his partner's arm to hold him in place, a firm but gentle reminder not to move that had never gotten more than a quizzically upraised eyebrow, but after the first couple of times, he didn't even have to do that. Blair spoke, Jim moved, Blair remained in place and spoke again, and then Jim would respond. The first day Blair had followed him all the way through the parking garage, into the building, stood behind him in the elevator, despite it being empty, and then trailed him to the desk they shared, Jim had rewarded him by letting his hand accidentally brush the younger man's denim-covered cock.

He hadn't been surprised by the hardness he found there -- the air had been filled with pheromones. He pulled back his hand without a word and then gently pushed Blair into his chair and passed him a file that needed to be input into the computer. Blair had squirmed a moment on the seat, then lowered his head and begun typing.

And Jim had smiled. He'd always loved being the dominant one. His increasing demands for sexual submission from his wife had been a contributing factor to their divorce. They'd played with bondage -- restraints and control -- but he had always liked it more than Carolyn. And as his interest had grown, hers had waned until it was just one more thing they couldn't agree on.

But Blair was his Guide, and the one destined to be with him throughout his life. The Sentinel demanded submission from the Guide. And Jim wanted it from Blair. The rational man had moments of feeling mildly uncomfortable with what he was doing, but they were fleeting and never lasted. And besides, the whole path he was on now was too exciting, too arousing, to turn back from. He'd been harder and cum more in the past two weeks than he had in the six months prior. Blair was so damned incredibly responsive to even the most innocuous touch, and even a look could make the younger man spill pheromones. And Jim always reacted to the responses.

Blair may still be playing horn-dog, but Jim's nose knew that the only relief his Guide was getting was self-induced. He could scent better than the best-trained blood-hound, and he'd have known if Blair had come in with another scent on him.

A Sentinel was a protector, but he was warrior, a hunter, as well. And for now, and the foreseeable future, he intended to hunt one particular animal -- his Guide.