There were certain times in the bullpen when Blair knew that he and Jim were about to get screwed. It was a certain tone Simon would have when he called them into his office. The tone was different from the "get in here you idiots, time to rip you a new one" or the "we're short on staff so just suck up and deal with the extra hours." Those were bad, but the really scary tone was the "this case could scar you both emotionally and physically but for the greater good, you have to do it anyway." Combine that dreaded tone with the somber faced stranger in the dark suit, and Blair knew that he and Jim were about to get royally screwed.

Jim knew it, too. The man was wound very tightly. The tension was singing in the room. Simon was looking at them like someone had killed their puppy.

"This is Lieutenant Ross Forbes, LAPD Homicide. He's come here to make a very special request," Banks said. "I'll allow him to lay this out for you…"

Forbes pulled out a folder and handed it to Jim. "These photos are from three homicides of juvenile runaways found on skid row over the last six months.

"At first glance, nothing made these deaths unique. They were found near the bus depot. They had drugs in their systems. They were killed by blunt force trauma. Unfortunately, this is not unusual in LA.

"These bodies, however, bore some unusual marking. There was evidence of ritual beatings on the back, buttocks and thighs. There is also evidence of constriction of the genitals and nipple clamping."

Jim passed the photos to Blair with great reluctance. He quickly saw the reasons why. The crime scene photos were rough to get through. It was hard for Blair to grasp that such brutality against these fragile, vulnerable beings was not unusual. Then there were the marks the lieutenant had indicated. A blush spread over his face. Blair realized that Jim had a lot of those marks -- much, much fainter, of course, on the same areas of his body. The Guide's heart sank. He did not like where this was heading.

Forbes continued. "Our investigation stalled for a while until Vice heard a rumor from some reliable sources that a sex resort had opened in LA for a very exclusive clientele with specific tastes. Obstensively, it was a s&m club with full scenes between guests and employees. They skirted the prostitution issue with some clever legal maneuvering and a very high powered attorney. They were beyond reach legally."

"Why are they a focus?" Jim asked.

"The taste of the club's elite are underaged subjects," Forbes replied. Blair noted how he kept his tone neutral.

"You think they were killed in the club?" Jim asked.

"Maybe. Or they were killed when they tried to leave. All I know is that the answers are in the resort with its members or its staff," Forbes replied.

There was a pause. Blair couldn't stand the suspense anymore. "Why did you come to us?"

The lieutenant handed them each another folder. "I have an acquaintance of some note in this lifestyle. She is a member of a private electronic mailing list. I asked her for anything that might help. In the folder, you'll find several long notes on a pair of cops nicknamed the 'Cascade Cuties,'" Forbes said with a straight face.

It was them. There were even grainy photos from Club Retro. Blair figured they were from miniature cameras. Club management frowned on such things. The pictures were innocuous enough. The e-mail was embarrassing with the gushy descriptions of his and Jim's beauty and 'simmering sensuality.' He wondered how many pairs of eyes were reading about them in the dark doing lord knows what. He decided not to think about that.

"Among the notes in that file are several from Guy Owens, the resort's owner and manager. As you see, he keeps asking the originator of the e-mail in Cascade to issue an invitation to the resort to you," Forbes said.

Blair found the notes. The man was quite taken with the idea of cops in this lifestyle and with them in particular. He really wanted them to come and play. One note spoke of how he'd crawl over glass for a chance with Blair. To date, the originator of the Cascade notes never worked up the nerve to approach them.

"Despite knowing that you are in law enforcement, he seeks your presence. It is the best undercover opportunity I've ever seen especially since no one involved at the club knows we even suspect them," Forbes said. The story seemed to be at a conclusion.

"You want us to go there and play long enough for them to offer us teenagers to torture?" Blair asked before he could stop himself.

"Blair," Jim said softly.

"We want you there until someone tells you something or you see something that give us probable cause to come down on them," Forbes replied. His voice held a lot of compassion. "If you can identify one or two minors, we can track down their families, trace their routes to the club and raid it while you're there. You'll never have to break cover."

"And it'll look like you found the lead through another source," Jim said. "How do we keep in touch? Wires and phone are out?"

"E-mail. Each room has a modem line for those who like cyber porn. It is imperative that you never break you roles -- no matter what you see."

"Whoa! We're making some assumptions here," Blair said. "Lieutenant, it's one thing to do this sort of stuff for a local operation. We have some control here. This is a hardcore club. Do you know what we'd have to do?"

"Blair," Banks said.

"Wait," Jim said. "Can we have a moment to talk?"

"Sure," Banks said. "Lieutenant Forbes, can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

Forbes nodded. They left without comment. Blair found that he was trembling.

"Jim, this is a very personal and intimate facet of our lives..." he whispered.

"I know, Chief. This scares me shitless," Jim said. "But these were children. They died brutally and alone then were thrown out like trash. And there may be many more tortured and risking death."

Blair blushed. "I'm sorry, babe. But this is almost too much for me. We're not even out there. Then, to have you naked and serving people that kill children..."

Somehow, Blair was in Jim's arms. "I know. I can't stand anyone touching you either. But you will control everything that happens. It will make us all the more intriguing if you limit the play. We will be living roles in an elaborate fantasy, babe. If they want us to be who they've imagined, they have to play along."

Blair hated feeling this way. He knew it was the right thing to do, but there was a lot of dread. "I don't know if I can maintain the role indefinitely."

"It's LA, Babe. We can get out and see the sights anytime it feels like it's too much -- your rules," Jim said nuzzling his hair. "We don't want anymore children suffering."

The Guide nodded. He sighed in surrender.

"We'll get through this," Jim whispered. "You okay? They're coming."

They separated and resumed their seats.

"Well?" Banks asked without preamble.

Jim looked at Blair.

"We'll do it, but you'll have to live with my parameters," Blair said.

"Your parameters," Forbes asked.

"Blair controls this action," Jim said. "He has to be comfortably in control or it won't work."

"Jim," Blair said in a quiet but commanding tone.

The Sentinel yielded the floor.

"These are the rules. You will get at least one report per day. They will be detailed," Blair said. "Contact must be one way. Do not write us or contact us in any way. You will have to let us have the time to develop this our way. Conversely, you must follow leads quickly. If we say you need to move fast, do it. You do not want us improvising."

The lieutenant looked at Simon.

"You really don't. I'll let you see the reports," he said ruefully.

"We do not know how carefully we're being watched. Once we make contact, it may be constant. We can't be seen with you after toady."

Blair's tone was so cold. It made the other men nearly wince.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you in some way, Mr. Sandburg," Forbes said.

"You didn't. This excursion, if seen by too many men in blue can be interpreted as something it isn't. No matter how careful we are, that could happen. We can't afford the risk," Blair said simply.

After a long awkward moment, Forbes nodded. "Done. When will you contact Owens?"

"No time like today," Blair replied.

While Forbes and Banks haggled over what jurisdiction was paying for what, Blair composed the e-mail to Owens. After a draft or two, he decided to go with his gut.
 

Greetings,

I am Blair, Master to James, the Cascade cop you so egregiously called a cutie. I do no like being spoken about in such ways without my knowledge. You cannot begin to know us in these sophomoric observations and speculations. Our lives are far more complex, and delicious than you can imagine.  If you want to know who we are, invite us.  Please us, and you will have more than you've dreamed.  If we come there, know that aside from first class treatment, we expect to make our own schedules and maintain our own pace. The scope of play is always at my discretion. Jim is not to be touched unless it is at my word. Any deviation from these terms will result in our departure.

"I'm not sure about this, Mr. Sandburg," Forbes said.

"I am," Jim said. "They'll love it."

Forbes looked uncertain.

"You came to us because of our expertise. Let us use it," Blair said. "You'll have an answer by this evening judging by how often he's on line in a day."

Blair was right. Before they clocked out for the night, the answer came.
 

Greetings Blair,

My abject apologies for offending You.  Worship was my only intent. i am beside myself in excitement that You have written, and that you would consider a visit here.  Of course you will have what you've asked for and more. You have only to call when you are ready to come. We will have a limo waiting at the airport. i count the days until i meet You and Jim.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Blair muttered.

"This is good work," Banks said. "When do we schedule it?"

"Ill write back tomorrow. We'll fly there the following morning. Make it known that we were relieved of duty for a while -- leave it open ended," Blair replied.

"Sounds good," Forbes said. "I'll have the tickets waiting at the airport. Good luck."

Jim shook the man's hand. Blair nodded a goodbye. He felt Jim's eyes upon him.

"We're heading home, sir," Jim said.
 
 

Despite his very powerful performance that afternoon, Jim knew that Blair would be fragile in spirit when they got home. He said little when they reached the loft. He could almost see the burden on the young man's shoulders. So the Sentinel did what felt right and pulled the Guide into his arms to hold him gently.

After a while, Blair relaxed against him.

"Want some dinner?" Jim murmured against his temple.

"I'll make it. I need to do something," Blair replied.

"Then I'll set the table," Jim said. "Why don't we change into some comfortable clothes."

A couple of hours later, they were fed, the kitchen was clean and the loft was secure. Jim was stretched out on the sofa with Blair blanketing him.

"What do you need, Chief?"

Blair sighed rubbing his cheek against his beloved's chest.

"This," he sighed. Then after a thoughtful pause, "I need you to make love to Blair for a while before we do this. I need to feel really connected to you."

"Suits me, babe," Jim whispered squeezing that much loved body. "Here's the plan; we'll finalize the details of the trip and get suspended in the morning then spend the rest of the time here."

"Sounds wonderful. What about tonight?"

Jim absently stroked down Blair's backside. "I thought I'd shower with you, have you there. Then, I'll take you to bed and make love to you again. I'll watch you fall asleep then hold you all night."

"Ah, Jim," Blair moaned. He moved up that great hard body until he was straddling his waist and that wonderful mouth was close enough to ravage.

The Sentinel let his lust for the Guide's taste take over. They kissed until Blair's eyes were dazed and he was fighting for breath. Jim shifted until they were sitting on the couch. He almost chuckled as he pulled back from the kiss. Blair was lost in a sensual haze.

"Jim," he wailed in complaint.

"Shhhh, Babe. Just moving this to the shower. Come on," he replied.

Blair nodded allowing Jim to tow the short distance to the bathroom. For the rest of that night, the Sentinel did not allow his Guide to have one complete coherent thought. He kept his hands or his tongue or his whole body on Blair's. As promised, he took his lover in the steamy wet room after massaging and slicking him with rich lather. Jim pressed the willing man against the tiles, opened then filled, then grasped and pumped him into oblivion.

Later, he found himself smiling at the befuddled young man. He doubted that Blair even knew how he got to bed. Soon nothing would matter to him at all except for the tongue traveling down his body. There wasn't much conversation other than words like "Oh, yes... gods... please" then a throaty moan as he came down Jim's throat. Soft snores drifted down before Jim could claim his goodnight kiss.

"Goodnight, babe," Jim whispered gathering the sleeping man in his arms.

Blair awoke in the same intense erotic haze he'd fallen asleep in. Jim had teased and caressed him awake and at the moment his eyes opened, began kissing him without mercy. He wanted to fully participate beyond moans of encouragement, but he couldn't move. On the fringes of mindless lust, he felt guilty about enjoying the mouth that was once again on his cock without even trying to reciprocate. The guilt evaporated with the blinding orgasm.

"You do this to me, Blair. I've never been this kind of lover before," Jim's soft voice said through the haze. "You have me body, mind and soul. Nothing can ever change that."

Then he was being held against that wonderful body. And that was the feeling that he was seeking. Absolutely sated and absolutely safe and loved. The Guide was certain that they could handle anything.
 
 

Simon was very cooperative about letting them have the time they needed to prepare for the assignment. He just didn't want to know too many details. At ten, they had the big blow up in Simon's office resulting in the suspension. Blair stormed out snatching his backpack as he left, not meeting any of the curious stares. Jim was seconds behind. They had lunch in a favorite deli then did some shopping. By early afternoon, they were back at the loft. Blair had no sooner sent off the e-mail to Owens telling him when they would be arriving then he found himself on the couch in Jim's lap half naked.

"How do you do this," Blair demanded between kisses. "It's like you're the Flash or something."

"I used to think about the most efficient way of making you naked," Jim murmured nuzzling his curls. "There was a lot of strategy and planning involved. You wear a lot of clothes."

Blair held Jim's face in both hands. "Is that what would be on your mind when you got that far away expression on your face?

"Sometimes," he smiled.

"What about other times?"

Jim shook his head. "Can't give you all my secrets."

"Fair enough. I don't mind some hard work," Blair replied. He kissed Jim gently.

Jim cuddled Blair closely. "I wouldn't be able to do this without you. There is no one else I trust this much."

"Jim..." Blair sighed. "For a big, stoic cop, you sure know how to melt me into a puddle."

"I don't want you melting. I need you firmer than that," Jim replied. Then his hands were in Blair's shorts. The grad student's brain was gone once more.
 
 

Jim woke up alone when the alarm went off. Blair was not in the loft. That startled him. He found the orders on the nightstand. The Commander had given him two hours to cleanse himself, eat and pack for them both. That brought him out of his fuzzy, drowsy state in a hurry. Jim sprang into action.

He had plenty of time. Since they'd become lovers, Jim took care of their laundry. Everything was well organized in Jim-like fashion. Thus, packing was completed quickly. And he was practiced enough at preparing for sessions that he was finished and dressed in time to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and read the paper. He found a print out of the e-mail on the coffee maker.

It read:
 

Blair,
i received the noticed that you and James will be coming to the Resort. Rest assured that all is in readiness. Our car will be waiting for you at the airport.  i cannot wait to meet you both.

Jim shook off the shiver then got to his meal. He wished he'd been up to help Blair deal with the note, but his lover seemed to have made is own arrangements. He muttered at the sports page over his eggs. No Jags away game in LA during the trip. He's could have sworn... no matter. There was enough for him and Blair to do there.

A limo was tooling along Prospect when Jim stepped onto the sidewalk. The driver belonged to their friend, the Mistress who owned Club Retro. So that's where Blair went to prepare. The Commander was inside dressed in tight black denim jeans and a black bomber jacket. He wore a black silk shirt with a black tank top underneath. He nodded with approval at Jim's black fatigues, black silk tank and leather jacket. He looked calm. They were as ready as they were going to get.
 
 

The air in LA really is kind of brown, Blair thought. He knew that there were supposed to be mountains on the eastern horizon, but they were completely obscured by the haze. Normally, he would have been chattering away about being in two limos in one day or how almost no one was using the carpool lane even though it only required two people and that was why the smog was so bad. But the Commander didn't chatter. He was a serene, sexual master awaiting obedience to his next whim. That meant a lot of silence. And that was the hardest part of the role. Jim's expression was neutral as he scanned the highway. Blair figured that he was probably orienting himself.

They headed north on a huge highway, then west on a slightly smaller one. Then they were on what must have been the Pacific Coast Highway. The view was breath taking. As they headed north again, the scenery became less urban. Blair could see the bike paths on the beach. Colorful sailboats decorated the sea. He saw Jim notice the surfers. It was very bright and very warm. And it wasn't raining. The Guide wondered how anything bad could happen there.

The resort was on a cliff above one of the Malibu beaches. It looked to be at least a twelve room mansion on about four acres of land. There were only a few other properties on that block. Blair doubted that any bus ran that way. Without a car, it would make a lovely prison -- even for them.

"Collar," Blair said quietly as the car pulled into the driveway.

"Yes, Commander."

The driver honked the horn twice. A pair of young women each clad in leather halter tops and short wrap around leather skirts hurried out the door. They were followed by a man dressed in an elegant dark suit. He was a little taller than Blair with dark hair graying artfully at his temples. He had playful gray eyes and the bearing of an English gentleman.

Blair got out of the limo first. Jim was two steps behind.

He seemed taken aback by them. "I am Guy Owens," he said with the barest of English accents. "Forgive me for staring, but the photos didn't capture your eyes. Stunning."

"Thank you," Blair said. "This is a beautiful place. I can't wait to see the inside."

"Absolutely. I'll give you a tour while your bags are taken upstairs," he said ushering them inside.

The interior was spectacular. The downstairs had three common rooms, a kitchen and a couple of powder rooms. There was a living room with a huge fireplace; a library with another fireplace, something that looked like a ballroom which led onto a huge patio with a pool and a Jacuzzi.

"This large area is where we play," Owens said.

Blair and Jim glanced about finding some evidence of hooks in the walls and on the ceiling. All of them blended with decor of the room.

"The stage and most of the equipment is portable. It's set up as needed and taken away when necessary."

"Clever," Blair said.

"LA can be a fascist state. One never knows when the black boots may appear because of a neighbor's offended sense of decency," he said ruefully.

The kitchen was furnished with professional equipment. The chef and two lovely helpers -- one man and one woman -- were preparing a huge meal.

"We have an excellent wine cellar and a fine selection of beers," Owens said. "I don't like to mix harder substances with play, but for those who indulge we can provide whatever is requested.

"The upstairs has eight rooms. Three are for the resident subs who sleep dormitory style four in a room. Two are for staff -- the trainer and the cook, one suite is mine and the rest are for guests," Owens said.

"Where are the subs?" Blair asked.

"They are doing chores or going through exercises with the trainer. You two are the only guests who are staying over. There will be more on the weekend. There isn't a lot of action until after dinner."

"Is there a rigid schedule for sessions?" Blair asked.

"Oh, no!" Owens said quickly. "We schedule play to suit our clients needs and wants."

"Wonderful. For now, we'd like to get settled," Blair said.

"Right away. There is one thing though," Owens said. "Your Jim will have to leave his service revolver with me. I'll lock it up. We don't allow firearms."

Jim looked at Blair for permission to speak. Blair nodded.

"I didn't bring any with me," Jim said. "It's such a hassle at airports, and I didn't think I'd need any here."

Owens clapped his hands with delight. "Smart and beautiful."

"Yes, he is a find," Blair said. "Shall we?"

"Tammi, take them to their suite and see to their needs," Owens said. "Dinner is available after five o'clock. It's buffet style in the dining room. It's lovely. We have the terrace doors open to see the sunset."

Tammi led them to a corner suite with a parlor. It was tall and airy with a view of the ocean. Both men reacted favorably.

"James, help Tammi unpack," Blair said.

"Yes, Commander."

"Tammi, is there a modem port in this room?"

"Yes, sir. There's a double port on the jack by the desk."

"Thank you. I'll be needing to check my e-mail later."

Blair set up his laptop on the desk while the bags were unpacked. He noticed that Jim was allowing Tammi to examine everything including the luggage pockets. The only items that she hadn't inspected were the clothes they were wearing. Blair decided to remedy that so that there would be no doubt that they had no guns.

"Is there anything else you need?" Tammi asked. "I'm to serve you in any way that you wish."

"You could satisfy my curiosity, Tammi," Blair said. "Are those real?"

"Sir?"

"I've heard all LA women get breast jobs. Yours are very nice," he said with a feral grin. "Are they real?"

"Yes, Sir," she smiled saucily. "I would be happy to show you."

"Do that."

"Tammi removed the leather top to reveal beautifully shaped medium sized breasts with large pink nipples. She had no tan lines.

"James, why don't you use those sensitive fingers to check."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim removed his own shirt then nudged Tammi back onto the bed. He straddled her hips as she reclined and began feeling her breasts. He weighed them in each hand, stroked them and rolled them while the girl moaned. She arched her hips against his crotch. Blair smacked her thighs with his riding crop.

"No one told you to move," he snapped. She stilled instantly. "Are they real?"

"They are, Commander. And very sensitive."

"Sensitive? How sensitive, I wonder. Pinch them."

Jim tweaked and pulled on her nipples until she squealed.

"Soothe them."

Jim licked and then gently sucked them in turn. Tammi was breathing heavily.

"I'll bet she'd already wet," Blair said quietly. "Find out."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim moved to Tammi's side, pulled off the little leather skit then stuck a finger inside her.

"She is very wet, Commander."

"What a slut," Blair drawled with amusement. "You hardly know us. Get undressed James."

"Yes, Commander."

Blair shed his clothing as well. Tammi's mouth hung open not knowing which of the impressive organs to stare at. The Commander settled himself at the head of the bed propping his torso up on a pile of pillows.

"You have such a pretty mouth, Tammi," he said. "Why don't you use it on this."

"Yes, sir."

She got on her elbows and knees taking him deep in her mouth. That left her wiggling little ass high in the air.

"Get a condom, James. Work that box."

"Yes, Commander."

Blair wasn't watching the little blonde expertly sucking him off. He was watching Jim in pleasure. And his beloved was watching him. The woman was forgotten in that hot blue gaze. Jim's expression reminded Blair of a hot August night when Jim straddled over that narrow waist and impaled him right on the balcony. He'd never felt so reckless in abandon. Its memory sent him over shooting into Tammi's mouth. Jim came shortly after. Tammi moved off the bed as soon as Jim withdrew. She stood beside it with her head bowed.

"Well done, Tammi," he said regaining himself. "James, ready the shower. Tammi you may dress. And before you leave, pick up the clothes tossed about."

"Yes, Sir. And thank you, sir."

Blair noticed that the girl inspected the remaining clothes quickly and efficiently. She left quietly. Blair bolted the door behind her.

In the large bathroom, Jim had the shower running and the CD player going.

"There are no bugs in here. I'm certain there are ones in the bedroom and the parlor." Blair nodded.

The Sentinel smiled at him. "Couldn't you just let her help us get ready for the shower. She could have gotten her hands on the clothes that way."

Blair glowered at him. "Be careful, slave. We play now, then the pressure is off. And everyone knows that we have really big ones."

"Forgiveness, Commander."

They stepped into the steamy stall where Blair began to pointedly scrub Jim down.

"There is another benefit to our little encounter with Tammi," Jim said. "She has the same pattern of markings on her back, butt and thighs. The same person worked on her and those kids. Probably the trainer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. The professionals have a signature to their methods," he replied while doing some focused scrubbing of his own.

When Jim turned the water off, Blair knew that all foreign scents were gone. Time to get back to work.
 
 

Whatever Blair had thought was going on in such a place, it did not involve the gentile evening repast in that open, airy room. There were a half dozen slaves serving six tables; three men and three women all in little leather outfits like Tammi's. Since Owens said there were no other guests staying here, Blair figured that they were there for the dinner and beatings package.

Everyone eyed Blair and Jim with curiosity and appreciation as Tammi led them to a table near the terrace doors and seated them.

"The sunsets are lovely," Tammi said. "It's been very clear."

"Thank you, Tammi," Blair said.

"We received your preferences for meals. May I recommend the grilled salmon with roasted vegetables over rice," she said. "I'll choose a wine for you if you like."

"Perfect," Blair smiled.

The breeze was scented with honeysuckle. The sky was turning a pale purple. Jim's face was bliss taking it in. Blair really wished he had brought down the camera.

"Ah, there you are," Owens said happily. He quickly crossed the room.

"Join us?" Blair asked.

"For just a moment. Preparations, you know," he said pulling up a chair. "You've cause quite a stir amongst the slaves and likely spoiled dear Tammi."

"How so?" Blair asked.

"I would have never let her come without putting her through her paces," Owens replied.

Blair considered that as the woman in question served them their wine.

"I couldn't lash someone unless I knew what they were about," Blair said.

"She's a bit of fluff," Owens said dismissively.

"Everyone is about something," Blair said considering his wine. He tasted it. "Very nice. Have some, James."

"Yes, Commander."

"Magnificent," Owens said. "So powerful yet so obedient... I don't know how you stand to see him clothed."

Blair raked a lusty glaze over his partner. "I'd love nothing more that to have him always naked, but it's impractical for many reasons. His profession, the weather in Cascade... that would cause some considerable shrinkage."

That made Owens laugh. Jim smiled briefly for Blair's eyes.

"Our festivities begin roughly around seven with punishments for transgressions," he said. "From there, the guests set the agenda."

"We'll be there."

"Enjoy your dinner."

They did. Then they watched the sunset and enjoyed the fragrant breezes while standing at the railing overlooking the cliff. Blair stood in front of Jim leaning back into him while being loosely held.
 
 

The sunset had been a beautiful, romantic moment. One of the nicer ones they'd shared in a while. But Jim knew that it would not be without consequences. He caught Owens and a few other guests staring at them with predatory looks in their eyes as Blair led him back to their suite. The Commander had shown weakness. Jim was worried.

When they changed for the session -- or in Jim's opinion, undressed for it -- Blair chose those amazingly soft, clingy black leather chaps. He wore a matching leather thong and lace up gauntlets. Jim was basically naked save for his collar, nipple clamps and a cock restraint.

"Select my implements."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim chose the strap, which he hated. The cat o'nine tails which he liked and the bullwhip which he had yet to experience. The Commander raised a brow at that and met Jim's eyes with confusion. Jim saw him working through the equation. Then, a light dawned.

"I understand, James. I don't agree. And I will decide how to handle this," he said quietly.

"Yes, Commander."

"Let's go."

The ballroom had been transformed. Thick velvet curtains had been drawn at the windows. Iron candleholders had been arranged throughout the room casting it in a golden light. A stage raised about three feet off the floor had been placed at the center of the room. On it was a pair of whipping posts and a couple of spanking horses. Tammi seated Blair at a chair near the stage. Jim kneeled beside him. Most of the eyes in the room were on them at one moment or another. The pheromones were making Jim queasy. He kept his eyes down and his focus on the Commander -- his breathing, his scent -- to center himself. Blair touched his neck indicating that Jim should look up.

Owens was on the stage with two slender young men. They had youthful faces, but Jim was certain that they were adults.

"These two have transgressed by having pleasure with one another without permission," he intoned dramatically. "Our venerable trainer, Earnst, will administer punishment."

One man was shackled to the post. The other was kneeling over the spanking horse. Earnst moved up onto the stage with slow grace heightening the anticipation. He went in for the black cape and cowl line of discipline wear. Jim would have considered him a poser, but then he saw the man's face. There was the detached appraisal of an experienced trainer in his expression. A poser would have been overly excited or inappropriately angry. He was neutral and watchful as he should have been.

The lashing was brutal and efficient. He used a cat o'nine tails of tough leather. The pattern of the blows was consistent with what Jim saw on Tammi and on the dead runaways. This was incongruous. Good trainers do no permanent damage. That would make the merchandise worthless to an owner. This man was a professional. In a short time the two men were thoroughly mollified whimpering and crying for mercy. Jim was sympathetic. Blair was capable of making him feel a beating for a couple of days. That beating would have him sore for over a week.

After the slaves thanked Earnst, he had them kneel to one side of the stage. The next few hours were performance pieces with beautiful bodies engaged in erotic exercises of pain and pleasure. Despite the imagery and the pheromones, Jim found himself only mildly interested in the proceedings. The bodies were very beautiful and their movements were provocative, but he knew nothing of their motivation or what was at stake in the session. Thus, to the Sentinel, it was no more than a dance.

Blair reacted the way Blair always did. This was all sort of exotic anthropological tableau for him to study. Thus, he appeared enthralled by what was before him. This seem to delight Owens who was headed their way with a sickening grin on his face.

"Are you enjoying the scene?" he asked.

"Immensely," Blair said. "Beautiful clientele."

"They are all anxious to play with you."

"I've felt the eyes upon us," Blair said serenely. "Is there a time table for our participation?"

"Of course not," he assured them. "It's just that you are both so gorgeous. Blair, you are absolutely incredible."

Owens had tumbled into Blair's gaze. He was very close to touching his beloved. Jim worked to calm himself.

"Judge me by my size, do you? You think that my beauty and my slender build precludes me from handling such a large, powerful body," Blair said quietly. "I cannot hear the words, but I know the glances."

Jim had heard the words. His Guide was dead on.

"They mean no insult, I'm sure," Owens said quickly. "Your James does seem quite willful and he is huge."

Blair smiled almost wistfully. It was a beautiful expression. "I don't think it's a sign of weakness that I don't feel the need to have Jim in a constant state of fear and humiliation. I'd rather have him in a constant state of arousal. And I don't think I should ever pass up the opportunity for a moment of intimacy out of fear that I'm not in control. James..."

"Yes, Commander."

"Up on the stage and over that spanking horse."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim moved to the center of the stage assuming the requested position. He felt so opened and exposed over that horse. His cock hardened at the thought of Blair using him so publicly. He could feel and smell the Commander's excitement. When he stroked the strap over his ass, Jim stiffened suppressing a groan.

"You want this?" Blair demanded.

"Yes, Commander."

Jim barely got the dial midway when the blows began to fall. Blair had developed a methodical routine. He knew how to set his nerves on fire. Jim forgot every one else in the room. There was just that hot strap and Blair spreading fire through him filling his cock and causing another kind of sweet agony. He cried out, but Blair didn't relent.

"Control, James," Blair snapped.

But Jim was beyond control. He couldn't calm the fire nor could he control his cock. The bindings were mangling him. He wailed in pain, desire and frustration.

"James is such a slave to his flesh," Blair said softly. "Owen, come here."

He obeyed despite the gentle gasp throughout the room that Blair would give him an order.

"Feel his hot skin."

Jim felt the man behind him. His hands were very cool as they caressed him. Owens was trembling. His pheromones were overpowering. That shrunk Jim's raging erection and gave him considerable relief. A sigh escaped him making Owens all the hotter.

"He is magnificent," Owens cooed.

"James has a beautiful mouth as well. Kneel here and let him use it on you," Blair commanded.

Owens moved very quickly. While the man was freeing himself for Jim to service, Blair leaned over and pressed an unwrapped condom into Jim's palm.

"Service him."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim went to work with a calculated efficiency. He focused on touch. He used all of his sensitivity to work the man to nearly bursting. Owens didn't even notice the condom being slipped into place. Jim ratcheted up his efforts. Owens came loudly a short while later.

At the Commander's signal, Jim was at his side sitting on his haunches with his head down.

"That was lovely, James," Blair said.

"It sure was," Owens rasped.

"Now, we will enjoy the wine and cheese and perhaps there will be some conversation that I'll enjoy. James," he said.

The buffet was an elegant array of finger sandwiches and cheeses.

"Get some for yourself, James. Wine, too."

"Thank you, Commander."

They got a selection of food and a glass of wine each then found a table with a view of the stage but set slightly apart from the other people. Jim knelt beside Blair. He didn't mind since his backside was too sore for a chair. The snacks were like dinner, simple and delicious. The wine was a perfect compliment. Were it not for the illegal aspect to the Resort, Jim would gladly frequent the place if Blair desired.

A shadow fell over them.

"Your bearing, actions and words speak of one very well trained," Earnst said softly. "Your is a more sophisticated dance than the games played here."

"Thank you," Blair said. "May I ask why you are here?"

"I would be speaking out of turn."

"Understood."

"It was a pleasure."

And he was gone. Blair endured small talk and satisfied some curiosity while they slowly consumed their snack. Once finished, he led Jim upstairs pleading fatigue and a desire for some early morning sightseeing. With great relief, he heard Blair slide the deadbolt in place. Her ordered Jim to stay still while he freed then soothed his imprisoned genitals with a gently hand.

"Brush your teeth and use the mouthwash," he whispered in Jim's ear. "Condom or not, I want no trace of him on you."

"Yes, Commander."

By the time Jim finished with the mouthwash, Blair was in the room naked. He turned on the music then the shower then dragged Jim inside. There was a lot of focused scrubbing followed by thorough kissing and slow mutual pumping until they came all over each other in the cooling water.

Jim was sent to bed while Blair sent the e-mail to Forbes. It took a while, because after logging out of the free e-mail service, the Guide emptied the cache, rebooted, the filled the cache with the addresses of porn sites. It would be very difficult to find the message for anyone other than an expert. Eventually, the light clicked off and that beloved body was snuggling against his.
 
 

Midmorning found them at Universal Studios Hollywood. Tammi seemed to be aware that they were heading down and out. She met them with the offer of a driver for the day. Blair agreed happily but was beginning to chafe at the constant observation. The driver was dismissed at the park gates and told to return in four hours. Thus, it was in a crowded amusement park that the Guide felt they had some privacy.

"Never let me say that you don't talk much," Blair said. "I miss your voice."

Jim smiled at him. "I miss talking to you, too."

"How did you sleep?"

"Better than I expected. No one came near our door. Once the house got quiet, it stayed quiet," Jim said. "And with you in my arms, I can always rest."

Blair blushed. "Let's keep focused. Did you hear anyone that wasn't in the playroom?"

"No, but I'm not surprised. The rooms are undoubtedly soundproofed," Jim replied.

"What if they don't have any minors on the premises right now?" Blair asked.

"I'm hoping that they don't," Jim said. "They aren't needed to make the case. The key for the LAPD is Earnst. He's a professional. Owens has something on him to get and keep him there. That place holds no real challenge for him."

"Do you think Earnst killed them?"

"I'd be very surprised, but I'm sure he knows who did," Jim said. "But let's leave that for now. Time for fun."

And they did have a lot of fun despite Jim's problems with virtual rides and distrust for mechanical dinosaurs. Blair took an insane number of pictures, they bought too many souvenirs and ate way too much junk food. By early afternoon, they were tired. Blair found himself grateful for the ride back.

"Let's have a nap, James," the Commander said as the car pulled into the driveway. "This is vacation, after all."

"Yes, Commander."

As they were gathering the bags to hand to the ever present Tammi, Jim went still for a moment. Blair knew he was listening to something. He motioned for Tammi and the driver to take the bags inside.

"Jim..."

The Sentinel motioned for Blair to be still. He listened for a few moments more. Then, Jim relaxed but continued to gaze at Blair pointedly. Tammi came out looking for them.

"Ah, just in time," Blair said. "Before we lay down, I think we should walk off the corn dogs. I still can't believe I ate a corn dog."

To Tammi's delight, Jim smiled.

"How do we get down to the beach?"

Tammi led them to the wooden stairs running down the cliff face to a narrow rocky beach.

"What is it, Jim? What did you hear?"

"There is at least one runaway here. Or at least it's someone Owens found near the bus depot. He was lecturing the kid about ingratitude. Apparently, the boy doesn't really want to play."

"Oh, man."

"There's more. We were followed today. The driver reported that we talked to no one. And Tammi reported that our packages were clean and all she found on your laptop was porn," Jim said ruefully. "The good news is that Owens seems to trust us. Bad news is the scrutiny won't stop."

"There's nothing we can do for the kid," Blair sighed.

"Not overtly. When we get back to the room, send an e-mail telling Forbes that he needs a reason -- any reason -- to pick up Earnst ASAP and sweat him. This is no time for subtlety," Jim said. "Tell him we have a victim in the making and not a lot of options."

"What if they bring the kid out to play with us?"

"The Commander can handle Owen," Jim said. "He is a slave where you're concerned."
 
 

Even after all that, they did fit in a nap beneath the cool breeze. It felt so good in bed that even at dusk, they were reluctant to rise. A knock at the door finally got Blair out of Jim's arms. It was Tammi with a tray.

"I took the liberty of fixing you plates," she said with a smile.

"Smells great," Blair said.

"Thank you, sir," she replied. "Would you like something to drink?"

"A pitcher of your finest water. The sun took a lot out of us," Blair replied.

"I'll be right back."

"Wake up, James. Showtime."
 
 

They didn't go down to the playroom until after the scheduled punishments. That night, the Commander only allowed him a collar to wear. He didn't mind. Parading around naked was part of the manly man life of the military. Besides, Blair seemed to get off on it. When they finally made their way down, it surprised Jim to find that only half the guests from the night before had returned. They were already preoccupied with the slaves from the previous night's punishments. Earnst hovered about keeping watch on the slaves.

"Quiet night," Blair asked Owens who was watching the action off stage.

"Smaller group, but it's never quiet," he shrugged. "It's just as well. I have something very special to share and a smaller audience is always better. Earnst!"

The trainer was suddenly at Owens' side.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Bring him."

Earnst went rigid. His heart rate spiked. A very awkward moment passed during which he seemed to be running through his options. Finally the man nodded and left the room.

"Earnst is especially stressed of late. I may have expanded the stable of slaves too quickly even for one with his talents," Owens said apologetically.

"I understand. That happens even with the best," Blair said dismissively.

"I'd lost hope of seeing you today."

Blair shrugged. "We overdid it at Universal, I'm afraid. It's just that we so seldom get real vacations."

"Understood. Oh, here he comes."

Earnst had a slave on a leash naked except for a collar and a gag. The boy was young -- maybe sixteen. His hair was many intriguing shades of blue or red or purple depending on where one looked on his head. His skin coloring looked too good for him to be an addict. He didn't seem afraid. He seemed pissed off. Earnst stopped in the center of the stage where the boy was put on his knees.

Owens stepped onto the stage beckoning Blair to follow. He did. Jim was behind him. The Sentinel positioned himself between the action on stage and the other members who were thus far still engrossed in their own little dramas. Owens was walking around the boy practically salivating.

"What is this?" Blair asked. His voice was quiet with an edge to it.

"The most tender of flesh. Almost as tender as the flesh available in Thailand. Someday we'll have as tender as that... but for now," Owens breathed excitedly.

"This is a child," Blair said simply. "A child cannot give consent."

"Blair, Blair, age is a number. An artificial barrier imposed by puritanical law," Owens said in a patronizing tone.

Blair was ticked but held his composure. "I'm making no mass judgement here. All I know is that an individual who can't figure out what color his hair should be can't possibly know himself well enough to choose this lifestyle."

"An affectation like our leathers. There are very mature young ones who know their minds and their bodies," he said. "This one knows what he craves…"

"He wants to serve?"

"Yes, of course."

"And he is ready for the rigors of training?"

"Yes."

"And to put his owners needs above his own."

"Absolutely."

"Then, if he really is so mature that he knows what all of this means with all of it's ramifications," Blair said solemnly. "Then, he would wait long enough that his training would not cause his owner the risk of arrest."

Earnst was startled. Owens was speechless. Jim was elated.

"Just food for thought. As I said, I make no judgements," Blair said cheerfully. "Enjoy your evening. James and I will be heading for the House of Blues."

"What?"

"Aside from this just not being our scene, we can't be in the same place an illegal act is occurring," Blair said. "Pity... I wanted to play with you tonight."

This all played out quietly without the other guests even realizing what was going on. Blair nodded at Jim. They both turned. Owens made a strangled sound.

"Wait," he whispered desperately. "Earnst. Take him back. Please, Blair..."

Blair turned on him. "Please... what?"

"Please, stay," he said.

Though he did not like the direction of the Commander's attention, Jim enjoyed the look on his beloved's face as the rush of power surged through him. He had the most sultry expression as he walked around Owens.

"Take off your clothes and get on your knees."

"Yes, Blair."

Owens was better built than Jim expected. His body was well toned for a man his age. The package was acceptable though he hoped that Blair had no intention of dealing with it.

"Your ass is unmarked, Guy," Blair drawled. "How long has it been since your skin was warmed?"

"Ages Blair."

"I can't let you come until I've put you through your paces," the Commander purred. "Jim, put him on the spanking horse."

"Yes, Commander."

Blair sauntered over and took Owens by the hair bringing the man's ear close to his lips. "Where is your control, Guy? You own this facility of control and pleasure and yet you're naked awaiting debasement. Why is your ass in the air in front of your guests?"

He hesitated for a few seconds. "I want to serve you, Blair. I want you."

"Well, you're honest at any rate," the Commander muttered. "I'm still going to beat your ass."

Blair went after that pale butt and thighs with the cat o'nine tails until he was bright red. The man never made a sound. At least he had some control.

"Color in that skin at last," Blair murmured. "How practiced are you at giving pleasure? My taste are more demanding than your so-called tender flesh."

"I can pleasure you, Blair. I swear."

"You'd better. If you ever want to taste my lips or feel my skin, you'd better please me," the Commander said. "James, bring a chair up here."

"Yes, Commander."

"You'll get the wish you made in the e-mail, Guy. Crawl to me and suck me off. And be happy that there isn't any broken glass."

Blair removed his thong then settled into the chair looping on leg over the arm of the chair.

"James, sit before me and pleasure yourself," Blair said.

"Yes, Commander."

It was hard for Jim to watch the Commander being taken by another man. He focused on that lovely face and the eyes that were blazing into his. Blair reacted to him, not the man between his thighs. Jim started to perform pinching his nipples and pumping himself. Blair moaned when Jim licked his lips. It went on for a while. He didn't want to let Owens off without a workout. Eventually Blair's face did him in. He had to come. Blair let go then and he was absolutely beautiful in pleasure. Owens had tears in his eyes as he backed away onto his haunches. Blair beckoned to Jim to kneel beside him. That was when the Sentinel noticed the erection Owens sported.

"Bring yourself off, Guy. You may look at us," Blair said.

"Thank you, Blair."

Jim found his face being turned toward Blair. Then in all of that erotic insanity, He was being gently and thoroughly kissed. They hadn't been able to kiss as often as they'd liked since arriving. Such displays were a sign of an over indulged slave. Thus, the kisses were needy and full of pent up passion. For a short while they forgot everything but the comfort and heat of their kiss. Then Owens was moaning. He spurted all over himself.

"That was wonderful," Blair said. "Now, I'm famished. I could use a snack. Why don't you join us when you've dressed."

"I'd like that," Owens said.

"You have the taste for real power," Owens said. "You radiated it tonight, Blair."

"I just go with what feels good for me," he shrugged.

"You're like me in that regard. You don't shrink from it," Owens said. "I used to wonder if I had my limits, but I'm finding that nothing makes me recoil."

"Really," Blair replied. Jim could tell that his Guide had no clue what the man was talking about.

"I suppose if I had thought about taking that step before hand, it would have never happened. It never did when I was in Asia, ironically enough," he said. "It was all accidental. But what life changes aren't happy accidents. I know you're confused, Blair. Someday, maybe you'll understand. Let's toast."

"Okay, to what?"

"The ultimate act of control," he whispered. "May we be brave enough to take it on."

They toasted. Jim tried to remain absolutely still. They finished their food and wine. Blair noticed Jim's slight change in demeanor. Once again, they left before the proceedings were over.
 
 

And once again they tried to scrub each other's skin off in the shower. Jim held Blair in the warm water.

"Listen to me carefully. Try not to react," he said gently. "It's Owens. He killed them."

Blair froze for a few seconds. Then he relaxed slowly. "How do you know?"

"The ultimate act of control over a slave is life or death. It's a fiction like snuff films. No one sane really thinks about it," Jim said. "Owens probably didn't either. The first one seemed to be an accident."

"Happy accident," Blair muttered. "Then, he got off on it. Gods, Jim. What do we do?"

"Pass along the information, and stay out of this house until it's too late for the games," Jim said. "I have to impress upon Forbes that I'm about to start improvising."

"I'm for that," Blair said. He trembled.

Jim turned off the water then began to dry his partner.

"Hang in there, Babe. You're were amazing," Jim said quietly. "I'll have that image of you in my head for a long time."

Blair began to towel Jim off. "But you have me here."

Jim smiled. "So, I do."

They kissed tenderly.

"Let me send the e-mail. Then we'll snuggle," he leered.
 
 

The next day they used the driver to take them to a nearby hotel to catch a mini tour bus and told him they'd get a cab back. The tour was a flat rate for the bigger attractions around the city. They went to Venice Beach, Hollywood and Rodeo Drive. Only on Rodeo Drive did Jim regret that he didn't have his gun. Blair regained his exuberance as they took corny pictures and laughed a lot. They spent a lot of time walking but never really felt tired.

When the tour dropped them back at the hotel, they hopped a cab to West Hollywood were the guide told them where the 'festive men' liked to hang out. There they found a lot of shops with some wonderful toys that they could only mail order in Cascade. During dinner at a sidewalk cafe, Jim and Blair discovered that a lot of older men were willing to 'take care of them' for any price they asked. At first the attention was amusing, but eventually Jim got annoyed. They headed back to the Resort at ten that night, nearly twelve hours after they left.

"Blair, wake up," Jim said gently as the cab came to a halt. "We're back."

And of course, Tammi was there to startle the cabby and get their bags.

"Everyone is frantic," she said in a hushed tone.

"Because we went sightseeing?" Blair asked in annoyance.

"No, because Earnst is missing," she whispered. She hurried them up to their suite then excused herself to go back to the scene downstairs.

Jim began to pack up their souvenirs and their clothes while Blair checked his e-mail. He didn't care what was happening with the LAPD, he had to get Blair and that kid out of there tomorrow. There was a soft knock at the door. Jim put away the bags then opened the door and showed Owens inside.

"Hello! I was beginning to fret," he said.

Blair glanced up over his glasses. "We decided to make a whole day of it. Even went to WeHo."

"My, my. I bet you had to beat them off with a stick there," he gushed.

"They all wanted our sticks, that's for sure. Great shopping," Blair said. "We're wiped, but it was fun."

"I'm sure," Owens said. "You didn't happen to see Earnst, did you?"

"Today, no. Saw him late last night before we went upstairs," Blair replied. "Something wrong?"

"I hope not. He hasn't been seen since his morning jog. I don't want to worry, but this is LA, even with the pretty scenery," Owens said. "Well, I should get back to my guests. If not tonight, tomorrow, then?"

"Count on it," Blair said.

Jim went on with the packing save for what they would need that night. Blair watched him solemnly.

"Let's get a shower and go to bed," Blair said.

Jim nodded. Then, there was another knock at the door. It was Tammi.

"Driver just warned us that a bunch of cop cars are coming up the street. We have only a few minutes," she said. "Master Guy says you can't be found here."

Blair had his laptop in the backpack before Jim could toss him his coat. They grabbed the bags and followed as Tammi lead them through the back of the house and out onto the patio.

"Take the stairs that are south of here. It'll put you on the main road past the cops. Take it to PCH. There's a cab stand outside the restaurant down there."

"Will you be okay, Tammi?" Blair asked.

"Sure. Just go. If I'm ever in Cascade, I'll look you up," she smiled.

"Make sure you do," Blair said.

They were back on the street ten minutes later. Jim could hear the raid in progress a block away.

"Let's go home, Chief."
 
 

The story made the national news. That didn't really surprise Jim. The ordeal was lurid enough for the press to eat it up. The boy they met was sent home to Nebraska. Earnst sang like a canary the day he was picked up. He would be deported after the trial. Guy Owens had acted alone. He lured the boys to the Resort to have them trained to work. But after accidentally killing the first one during a confrontation, he decided mere whippings weren't enough. Earnst had a drug charge over his head, so he kept quiet and in servitude. No one else at the house was charged. Nowhere was he or Blair mentioned. Forbes thanked them through Simon. That didn't really matter to them. They were just glad that the boy with multi-colored hair would get to go to his junior prom.

Blair was there when he got home from distributing souvenirs. Both of them had to catch up on paperwork at their respective offices. Gone was the powerfully sensual being in chaps who'd brought a hedonist to his knees. He was cuddly in old gray sweats eating popcorn in front of the TV. Jim would change and join him there. No more roles for a while. Just him and his Guide. Alone.

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