The Siren Saga
by NovaDChapter Fifteen:
Comp Time
It didn't make any sense. Nothing did. And it all had to and fast or Jim wasn't going to survive. He had the damned tear gas mask on, yet his eyes and throat still burned. He couldn't see the crowd that he knew was pressing in on them. Worst of all, he couldn't help Jim get on his mask. His lover had zoned badly and couldn't move. Blair fought the panic rising in him. He had done everything he had been trained to do, and it wasn't working. He had to help Jim and make the crowd fall back. Blair heard Jim struggling to breathe and the decision was made for good or ill. Blair pulled his gun and fired blindly into the crowd.
Blair woke up shaking. Warm muscular arms tightened around him pressing his body gently against the hard muscles he was snuggled against. Jim had him blanketed across his body. It was as though he needed to feel Blair close to as much skin as possible because of the trauma and the subsequent separation. Far from minding, Blair seemed to need it as well. Normally, it would be very difficult for him to pull away. But Blair had to or he'd wake the man. He relaxed against that amazing body until Jim sighed deeper into sleep. The Guide smiled at his lover. Considering the hellacious day and night his Sentinel had had, the last thing he'd should have expected was Jim comforting him in his sleep. But then again, maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. Jim always seemed to know what he needed. But there was no comfort for him now. Sleep would not come, and Blair knew that his wakefulness would eventually pull Jim out of slumber. He gently disengaged from those arms. Jim needed rest. Blair decided that he needed coffee.
A half an hour later, Blair was wrapped in his robe under the afghan on the sofa staring at the bleak sky through the balcony window. His mug was held steady despite two slightly trembling hands. He still needed to make sense of something that most experts were puzzling over. It had been exciting to be pulled from the city for a detail with Jim. It hadn't occurred to him that he'd be representing Cascade's finest in another city during an international event. Jim was excited for Blair as well, but he was concerned about the nature of the detail.
"I don't know, Chief," Jim murmured perusing the file. "The World Trade Organization seems to have every kind of group mad at it. It sounds like a crowd control nightmare. I don't know if on a containment line is where we should be. Maybe if we were given the roofs of the area..."
"And how would we explain you knowing what's going on two miles away?" Blair replied. "We're trying to keep a low profile, remember. Not that we do normally, but you know what I mean."
"Yeah, the brass here is used to us being... unusual," Jim said. "I wonder why they didn't hold the meeting here?"
"I think maybe Doom's appearance was the last straw. Then there's Cascade's tendency to explode. We'll be lucky if this town gets the Tupperware Convention," Blair said. "Maybe there's a group out there that likes being near a hellmouth."
Jim had smiled at that, but he still looked troubled. "Chief, a lot of these groups have causes which you support. You'll probably even know some of them."
He didn't continue, but Blair knew where his lover was heading. There were complex and compelling reasons for Blair's presence with the Cascade PD and his current occupation had in no way altered his views or beliefs. However, he also knew how impassioned his former colleagues could be. That coupled with a tendency to make snap judgements would equal one thing: Blair was a traitor.
Jim had been silent watching Blair process the facts. "They'll probably think that you were an undercover operative all along," Jim said quietly. "That could get dangerous with an angry crowd."
Blair sighed at that. It was both a ridiculous and a likely scenario.
"So, I'm 'the man,'" Blair had replied. "I'm your partner before anything else. Nothing else matters."
That was still true for Blair. He shuddered once again at the thought of Jim trying to survive that ordeal without him. He fervently wished there had been a way to avoid the entire trip.
His illusions about observing some peaceful international activism were shattered as soon as he was presented with the uniform for the occasion. Blair recalled his disbelief when the black helmet, flack jacket and body armor was given out at the briefing. It had taken all of his self-control not to balk openly at the meaning of the attire. At least Vader's storm troopers wore white, he'd remembered thinking. Naomi would have a coronary. Blair prayed that there was a way to avoid television cameras. Despite grave reservations, he put on the equipment. Jim's reaction had been a fascinating mix of amusement, concern and desire. It was as though all the facets of his personality were at war in that one look.
Blair had paid close attention to the briefing sessions and the strong admonition not to panic over an occasional surge in the crowd. They were given explicit instructions on how to react if tensions escalated; the commands that would come if tear gas or other devices were to be deployed. Blair had been alarmed at some of the details of potential escalation, but Jim was so calm that eventually he had relaxed as well. This was nothing new to Jim, Rafe, and Brown. They knew what to do and when to do it. And since Blair would be deployed with them, he figured he would be okay.
Blair snorted into his coffee mug. Things had turned surreal almost immediately. They had been placed along the major thoroughfares to keep traffic moving along possible travel routes. Blair had just gotten settled and was attempting to quell the unease over the huge numbers of people on the street. There was a lot of hostility in the air and at their point along the route, the thin blue line was one person deep. He felt very exposed and vulnerable despite the protective gear.
The jeers and shouts, Blair had expected. He had not expected to hear his own name. Both men started and Jim shot Blair a quizzical glance then scanned the crowd. His partner wasn't Sentinel rigid, but he was clearly uneasy. Blair held his ground. He wasn't about to move away from Jim or the other cops. As it was, it was too easy for all them to become engulfed by the ever-growing throng.
And then they were in front of him -- three students from Rainier University. They gaped at Blair with their mouths hanging open.
"Blair... I thought it was you," one of them, Hal Franks said.
Hey," Blair replied only glancing at them in short intervals. There was a murmur in the crowd off in the distance. Jim's attention was already drawn in that direction. Blair had hoped that his clothing and demeanor would dissuade conversation despite the obvious questions his presence raised. It had not.
"What are you doing here? You're a cop?" Franks demanded.
Blair didn't need the distraction. Jim seemed to have his hearing far away. He gave the students a brief, flashy smile. "It's a long story. When this is all over, I'll buy you a few beers and tell you about it," he'd said as brightly as he possibly could. "Right now, I need to focus on the line here. Public safety and all..."
That hadn't mollified Franks or his associates who were muttering amongst themselves. Blair forgot about them for a moment. Jim hadn't changed positions in a while. He touched Jim's hand and gave it a brief squeeze. The Sentinel's gaze snapped to his. There was grave concern on his face.
"Trouble on both sides funneling this way, Chief. I need you to..."
Blair never found out what Jim needed. There was a tremendous flash. Blair was blinded. He had reached for Jim and found him standing like a statue.
"Oh, god," Blair thought as his vision began to come back. Then he smelled it. "Tear gas.... Rafe... H! Somebody help me here!"
Blair had moved quickly putting on his own mask then rummaging for Jim's. He ignored the crowd long enough to touch Jim's face with a hastily bared hand. He got him to kneel with touches and pressure at his joints. It was fast. Jim had responded readily enough. But he wasn't fast enough. His love was already choking on the tear gas. Blair remembered calling in for an ambulance then looking frantically for Rafe and Brown.
The Rainier contingent was shouting at him about the gas and police tactics. Blair's eyes had cleared enough for him to see that the crowd's imaginary line was disintegrating. He was suddenly afraid of being overwhelmed and Jim getting trampled.
"I need you to get back and keep this area clear!" Blair said through his radio's PA.
There was more shouting and name calling. Blair realized that the Rainier group was there to get arrested; clog up the justice system and get as much press as possible. It was a fine strategy, but not one that Blair or even ace protester Naomi would have supported in the midst of breaking glass, looting and tear gas. But these guys weren't so prudent and he wasn't going to let anyone near Jim. The rifle was in his hands before he realized it and his aim was very steady. He hoped that rubber bullets were enough. Then he flinched at his own question.
In the end, Blair hadn't fired on the students. An ambulance was suddenly between them. The medics hustled Jim into the vehicle to get him out of the fumes. For a harrowing few seconds it looked like they weren't going to let Blair go with him, but he prevailed by shouting that he had medical history that they would need. He had been prepared to use the rifle on them as well. Blair promised himself that he would never complain about super villains again.
As the medics removed the mask and gloves, Blair explained about Jim's extreme chemical sensitivity. However, he couldn't explain the unresponsiveness they found when the mask was removed. Jim's pupils were like pinpoints. Blair removed his gloves and gently touched Jim's face. That ended the zone and got him imprisoned by the wrists in his lover's firm grasp. Not even the sedative loosened the hold.
By the time the ambulance reached the ER, Jim's grip had eased enough to free Blair. He was taken to give the triage nurse a rundown on his partner's medical history. The separation had only lasted a half an hour, but by the time Blair reached the examining room, Jim looked like a wild man. Two nurses were trying to make him lie back on the bed.
"It's okay, Jim," Blair said in the gentlest of Guide voices. "I'm here."
He helped the nursed settle that big muscular frame back on to the mattress then covered him.
"Sorry, Chief. Sorry..." He mumbled tiredly.
"It's okay, man. There was no signal," Blair replied trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "Try to relax..."
"Don't leave," Jim rasped closing his eyes.
"I'm right here."
Blair waited for Jim to be cleared for release blissfully away from the mayhem that was happening on Seattle's streets. In the aftermath, Blair really wanted to find the idiot with the flash grenade and let him or her have it. Simon even considered letting him, but the press was doing such a fine job of pillorying the Seattle PD there seemed to be little point. He considered tracking down Hal Franks and his little cell and lecture them on the lunacy of haranguing panicked armed individuals during a riot. And what kind of so-called students would attack a Starbucks(tm)? But there wouldn't be any satisfaction there. He'd never get through to them, because they'd only see the helmet and the rifle. In the end, Blair had to find a way to let it all go.
Jim came padding down the stairs as Blair finished his coffee. Without a word, he pulled Blair off the couch and sat down with his back against the arm of the sofa and his legs across the cushions. He then pulled his Guide onto his lap using himself as a lounge chair. Jim then re-covered them both, wrapped his arms around Blair and rested his head on Blair's shoulder.
Blair drained his cup. "You aren't going to fight with me over my brooding?"
"Nope," Jim sighed. "You know you did a good job... held the line... protected me. You just need to process."
Blair chuckled. "With you wrapped all around me?"
"Feels good... need you..."
Blair felt a tug at his heart. The cup was set down as he settled back into the warm embrace. It really was that simple. The tension seeped out of his very pores and left Blair exhausted. Yet actual sleep still eluded him.
Jim squeezed him a little. "We have company... don't move... Mistress, use your key."
The door swung open and she was standing there before them her lovely brow knit in concern.
"I'm not sure which of you looks worse," she sighed. "And I'm afraid that I must add to your burden."
"Mistress?" Jim rasped.
"I cannot bear this waste of beauty and training any longer," she said sadly. "And since you will not obey me, I must let you go."
"What?" Blair exclaimed trying to get up. Jim held him fast.
"You could be so much more than you are," she said kneeling beside them. "Your bond is stronger than ever, but you are exhausting yourselves. All there is right now is work, this small space and a few stolen moments."
"It's the life we chose," Blair murmured.
"I know, my Beauty. But I could have shown you how to find bliss and live that life."
"Could have," Jim said. "We don't want you to go. Above all else, you are not safe here."
She smiled ruefully. "I can make myself safe."
"Isn't there anything we can do to change your mind?" Jim asked.
"You won't do what you need to do," she said solemnly.
"The Mistress wants us to come with her," Jim said.
"For three weeks," she replied.
Jim leaned into Blair awaiting a response. It was up to him, then. Blair thought about how they were going to try to pull themselves together during the 48 hours that they had off. And there he was so wound up that he didn't think he could sleep for a week. He had doubts that he could be back to normal by Monday. And he really didn't want to lose Genevieve.
"I'm so tired," Blair said heavily.
"I know, dearest. Let me help you both."
Blair wanted to cry. He had been fighting for so long to keep it together. "I'll do anything..."
"What do we do?" Jim asked.
"Change into some comfortable traveling clothes and fetch your passports," she said with a bright smile. "We'll fight with Captain Banks on the way to the airport."
There was not much of a fight after all. Once he got over being awakened at 7am on a Saturday, he was very understanding of his detectives need for rest and he said he'd find away to justify the absence with the Chief. Jim was relieved. He shifted Blair in his arms so that the man could sleep more comfortably. The Guide had fallen asleep as soon as they climbed into the limo.
"How long are you going to be his second skin?" she asked dryly.
Jim smiled at that. "As long as he needs it. Sometimes, his heart only pounds for a day after a trauma. Sometimes, it's a lot longer. He thinks I do it for me."
Jim traced the dark circles under Blair's eyes with a trembling finger.
"You don't look much better, pet," Genevieve said. "What have you been doing?"
Jim shrugged. "Trying to be super detectives, I suppose. Nothing's ever been said, but I guess we feel like we have to justify Simon's faith in us."
"Very noble, but if your tenure is short-lived, you will not meet expectations, either," she replied. "You must learn to be more selfish or you won't reach your golden years with this one."
Jim nodded his agreement, but it was not an easy thing to say no at work.
Genevieve seemed to sense his dilemma. "You need to sleep as well, Dear One. But think about this. Did Sentinels do all the fighting as well as the patrolling?"
Jim frowned at that. There was something that he wanted to say in response, but his eyelids were too heavy. The rest of the trip was very fuzzy to him. He was aware of being in flight even in a deep sleep. He knew that he and Blair had spoken to customs officials and that Blair had even amused one, but the conversation eluded him entirely. There was another limo and a short ride in an elegant elevator. Then, there was naked skin on naked skin in the most wonderfully soft sheets.
"Jim?" Blair mumbled against his chest.
"Hmmm...."
"Where are we," he asked mildly. "This isn't the town house. The last thing I remember..."
Blair raised his head up to look at Jim with owlish eyes.
"Yep, we're in Paris."
"Where you've been asleep for twelve hours," Genevieve said from the door. "You must be starving."
Blair eased off Jim sitting up. "That's an understatement."
"Good morning?" Jim asked with a smile.
"Yes, it's morning and breakfast is in ten minutes. Wear the robes in the bathroom and don't dawdle," she said as she left.
"Yes, Mistress!" they said in unison then laughed at each other.
The bathroom was enormous with a double shower stall, a sunken bath tub for two, double sinks and even two toilets. It was all done in a very tasteful pale gray marble with black trim.
"This is as big as the first floor of the loft!" Blair exclaimed.
"Let's get clean, babe," Jim replied amiably. "We can admire it later."
Blair was really hungry. He stepped in the stall which had spray nozzles coming from all sorts of angles. They showered quickly, dried each other off then wrapped themselves in the warm, thick terry cloth robes. Despite the size of the apartment, Jim found the dining room without a problem by following the scent of wonderful coffee and other delicacies.
There Genevieve sat in front of a small oval dining table of highly polished mahogany sipping coffee from a delicate china cup. There was a buffet set up on a mahogany sideboard nearby.
"You look so much better," she said. "Help yourselves."
"Thank you," Jim said. "For all of this."
"I've only just begun." she smiled.
They heaped their plates with fluffy eggs and fresh cut fruit and toast made from bread baked that morning. The coffee smelled like heaven to Jim.
"You should have some oatmeal as well," she said. "You'll need to build up your strength."
Blair blushed. "What do you have planned?"
"Whatever strikes my whims," she replied. "But for today, we work on your bodies. My spa technicians will be in to work on that tired, abused flesh until you are refreshed and tingly. And you will get even more sleep. I still see shadows under those amazing blue eyes."
"Okay," Blair said. "I could do with some serious pampering."
"As long as we get meals like this," Jim said.
"I will give you all that you can handle of many things," Genevieve replied. "But I want some assurances that all of what will be done will not be in vain. Have you thought about the question I asked, Jim?"
"I have, but I need to ask Blair about my theory."
"Theory?" Blair asked with a mouthful of eggs.
"Chew, Chief. I'll talk," Jim smiled. "Mistress was suggesting that I might try delegating the protection of the city instead of taking so much on ourselves."
Blair swallowed his food. "Well, in tribal societies, the Sentinel alerted the tribe to dangers then assisted in battle. He was never meant to take it all on alone."
Jim glowered at Blair over his coffee. "And when were you going to share this little bit of information?"
"When have we had a moment to think?" Blair shrugged. "Each crisis seemed to demand you and me. It's hard to refuse when it's dropped in our laps. If we can divert some of it, we absolutely should. Do you think we can get Simon to cooperate?"
Jim nodded. "He cares about results. If we point the teams in the right direction and tell them what they need, sure. And I think that more even spread busts will put a damper on some of the resentment sent our way."
"And it would give us more time together," Blair said with a flash of his blue eyes. "When do we start?"
"Not for twenty days," Genevieve said. "Enjoy your breakfast. The technicians will be here soon."
Their guestroom had been transformed. There were gently scented candles all about the room. Soft classical music was playing. A pair of tables topped with thick mattress pads covered in silk sheets had placed in the middle of the room. There were longish tables next to each of the padded ones covered in bottles and small appliances. Four technicians -- two men and two women -- awaited in crisp white uniforms.
"Get undressed and lie back on the tables, my sweets," Genevieve said brightly. "I'll tell you what they are doing at every step, so there will be no surprises."
"Thank you," Blair murmured.
"And relax that jaw, Jim. The hands on your beloved are purely professional."
Jim blushed then nodded. "Thank you, Mistress."
Blair did as he was told lying awkwardly under the sheets unsure of where to put his hands. One of the female technicians gently moved them to his sides.
"They begin with facials..."
Blair sighed. It was wonderful, the warm, creamy substances, the soothing sure fingers massaging his temples then working their way over the planes of his face erasing the tension and fatigue. When they left his face tingling under the warm, wet towel, they moved down his body cleansing and soothing the skin front and back then wrapping him in wet, herbal scented towels while the Mistress gently talked through each of the phases and how it would benefit their battered bodies. Blair smiled. She was keeping Jim from zoning. Blair let himself drift.
Cool air on his skin brought Blair around after what seemed like hours. He whimpered in protest.
"Shhh, sweet one," Genevieve soothed. "They are going to put you in a nice sudsy tub and clean those minerals off your skin."
Blair muttered but allowed himself to be led to the tub where he and Jim sat on opposite ends facing each other. Blair was midway through the shampoo when a thought came to him.
"You getting a shampoo too, Jim?" he asked.
"I do have some hair, Sandburg," Jim replied dryly. There was laughter in his voice.
Blair chuckled settling back. It felt really good to get his scalp massaged. The water was very hot, but he was kept from overheating with a cold towel on the back of his neck and frequent sips of cool water. It was nearly paradise. And it continued. There was careful combing of his hair, then rinsing and gentle towel buffing. They had manicures and pedicures. Blair couldn't see how he looked, but he felt gorgeous. He wanted to look at Jim, but his eyelids had grown heavy once again. That need was anticipated as well. Soon, they were together in bed. Jim was all around him pressing close.
"Gods, you feel great," Blair sighed.
"So do you. And you smell great, too," Jim whispered in his ear.
They were asleep once more.
"I can't believe that we're in Paris and all we seem to do is sleep," Blair muttered as he stood on the balcony of the livingroom. He gazed at the spectacular view of the Left Bank.
Jim looped his arm about his Guide's waist to pull him close. The silk lounge wear felt fabulous against his skin. So did Jim's muscles and heat. "Let's just enjoy this ride. We really needed the rest," he said. "I didn't realize we were so wrecked."
"But I did," Genevieve said from behind them. "Now, look at the two of you."
Blair turned in Jim's arms to really look at his lover. What he saw took his breath away. Jim's skin nearly glowed in the warm light of the sunset. His spiky hair looked even more downy soft than usual and his eyes had a clarity and fire that Blair hadn't seen in some time.
"You're really beautiful, man," Blair murmured impulsively reaching up to stroke his jaw.
"So are you," Jim growled. "You look good enough to eat."
"Chew on him later," the Mistress quipped. "I've got sushi here."
"Sounds great," Blair replied.
They joined the Mistress who was seated on cushions on the floor around a black lacquered table. A wondrous array of sushi and sashimi was spread out on the table.
"You will be able to do some sightseeing in a few days," Genevieve said between sips of sake.
"Mistress I don't think we could sleep another two days," Blair replied.
Genevieve raised an amused brow. Jim shook his head at his partner's impertinence. "I see that you are feeling like your old self. As delightful an image as it is, I did not bring you here to watch you sleep. Nor do I want you traveling all over the city and its environs. I have plans for every inch of skin on those delightful bodies and I'll need every bit of creativity and passion that you both possess."
Blair swallowed hard. "What do you have in mind?"
"Many things," she replied. "My favorite sculptor will be here tomorrow."
"Mistress?" Jim asked.
Genevieve smiled at him. "I'm going to have some casts made. You'll both have to be shaved very thoroughly. That whole process should take a few hours. Then, I want you to interview someone who has presented herself for training by you."
"Me?" Blair asked with surprise. Jim frowned.
"Yes. I would have turned her away outright, but she presented such an appealing case and has shown such mettle that I had to bring her to you," Genevieve said. With a slight incline of her head she brought their attention to the woman who'd been serving them so unobtrusively. She had been scrubbed down and was dressed in more refinement, but both men recognized her right away. "I believe you became acquainted during your brief jaunt to LA."
"Yes, Mistress," Jim said with the slightest edge to his voice.
"You will review her file, Blair. Then you will interview her with us present," she said. "Then, you and Jim will decide whether or not to proceed."
Jim relaxed and continued eating.
"I have a file for you as well, Jim," Genevieve said after a time. "It will make your stay here easier."
Jim looked puzzled for a moment then he resumed chewing. "Thank you, Mistress."
"As for your physical state, I still see the fatigue despite the fact that you look much better than when you arrived," she said. "When your bellies are full of rice and you're lusts are satisfied, you will sleep deeply once again. Excuse me while I confirm some arrangements for tomorrow."
Blair blushed pink. Could the Mistress smell his pheromones? Had she caught his glances at his lover?"
"Don't try to figure it out, Babe," Jim said. "It was probably me who is the open book. "You look so good..."
Jim moved quickly and smoothly. Before Blair could blink he was on his knees pressed against Jim with his head being tilted back.
"Gods, he tastes good, too," Blair thought as his mouth was being thoroughly taken. It was an insolent move for Jim under those circumstances. He would normally have required more reserve and deference. Blair didn't care. At that moment, he needed the intense heat and hunger from his Sentinel. Jim was intent on ravaging Blair's mouth that not even he noticed the Mistress' return.
"My god, you two are beautiful!" she gasped. "Take the Beauty to your rooms, Jim. We begin tomorrow, so for tonight, take him and love him."
"Yes, Mistress," Jim growled.
Blair found himself hoisted to his feet then suspended in the air in those strong arms. Jim's lips gently pressed against his temple as he moved to the bedroom.
"Sometimes, I resent everyone and everything in our lives," he murmured. The intensity in his voice almost drew Blair out of the erotic haze he'd been enjoying.
"I resent the senses, the job..." Jim said in an edgy, lust-filled voice as he set Blair on his feet then pulled his shirt off. "I resent the public... and our clothes. I really resent our clothes."
Jim pushed Blair onto the bed then yanked off the prone man's pants. He then shucked his own clothing sending the soft silks everywhere.
"I resent everything and everyone that keeps me from being here..." Jim said softly as he covered Blair with his body and anchored one hand in his dense soft curls. Blair arched against him as Jim covered his mouth. The kiss was possessive but brief. He went after the Guide's sweet skin along his throat.
"No one understands that I need this... need your skin... your mouth," he murmured. "Not just want... I need every inch of you like this. I need to know you'll let me... let me, Blair... let me..."
Blair moaned thrusting against his lover. Jim held him down with his weight then went after that beloved flesh with his tongue and his hands. He tasted all of the spa treated skin before opening the man up, lovingly preparing him then pushing inside.
"That's it, babe... give it to me," Jim murmured against Blair's temple as he pumped the inside and stroked the outside.
Jim was in heaven taking his pleasure from this beautiful being who loved him and protected him and wanted him. And how Blair wanted him. He gripped him and moved against him worshiping his cock. And Jim gave as good as he got. He cradled his Love's testicles then stroked him until he came in great spurts clenching around Jim and bringing him over as well.
Later that night they were propped up in bed with their files in hand. A short recon by Jim of the area outside the door found a cart with snacks and drinks for their consumption. Blair was munching on a finger sandwich with a thoughtful frown on his face.
"Tammi says that she'd been pursuing the lifestyle for three years before ending up at the LA house," Blair read aloud.
Jim found him particularly adorable with the glasses on and the finger sandwich poised in one hand.
"For reasons which she wants to reveal to us when we have the interview, Tammi came to the Mistress in Paris to request training. Hmmm..."
He lapsed into silence engrossed in the report.
Jim opened his file and studies it. He found himself smiling. It was a thorough profile of Genevieve's household staff, the security equipment, the surrounding neighborhood. It even contained a dossier on the local police. By the time he finished reading, she had achieved her intended affect. He felt safe.
"Why are you smiling," Blair asked. "Is it juicy stuff?"
"Only if you're into infrared sensors, Chief," Jim replied. "What about you?"
"This stuff is really hot. Tammi has been through hell here. Just to meet us?" Blair murmured in fascination.
Jim set aside his papers and considered the man next to him. "I think she wants you, Chief," he said quietly. Concern tinged his voice.
Blair also set aside his file and removed his glasses. "I don't think so. And if that's the case, I'm not interested. I play because of you... because you make me so hot when we play... because you love it. I'd never pick up a collar or a lash if you weren't interested, Babe."
That earned him an intense Ellison kiss.
Blair allowed himself to be maneuvered to drape over his body.
"Whatever way you want to play it, Chief," Jim murmured. "I trust your judgement."
"Thanks, man," Blair said softly as he drifted back to sleep.
For all the rest they had that night, Blair was still addle headed that next morning. He seemed unable to render a coherent thought. His thought processes were limited to obeying very simple commands. The reason for this state could have been the amazing amount of lovemaking to which a rested Sentinel can treat his Guide. Or it may have been the amazing sight he was having to contend with at that moment. After breakfast, he had Jim led into what was called the Playroom. However, it was not a dark dungeon. Rather, it was a bright, airy room with tall windows that captured all the sunlight. There was a four poster bed in a far corner and the hooks on the ceiling that looked far too industrial to have been for plants and there were three large, dark wooden cabinets against the walls. It looked like a well appointed, slightly eccentric bedroom. Near the windows sat an apparatus that resembled an abductor machine for exercising the inner and outer thighs. At some point, Genevieve explained that that was where the basic design had come from.
This apparatus had more adjustable stirrups. A person could straddle it as Jim was doing and the stirrups could be moved to accommodate the legs in that position spreading them so that the ass cheeks were parted then lock in place. Jim's chest rested on the high, leather padded back of the chair. There were stirrups for the arms as well. He was fastened into those so that his arms were supported up and away from his torso. Thus, the reason for Blair's mushy brain that morning. His beautiful lover was trussed up with his ass spread and arched for him and at cock level. He didn't know whether to start spanking that ass or fucking it.
"I love this chair," the Mistress was saying as she warmed the shaving cream. "I can use the strap on all the most vulnerable places and it's simply ideal for dildo training."
Jim moaned at that and it made Blair's cock go to full attention. He caressed that beautiful butt.
"We can't have him distracting you," Genevieve muttered. "That could be dangerous with a razor in hand."
She went over to a nearby cabinet which was filled with all sorts of gags and restraints. She pulled out a gag. "Silence him."
Blair complied, but it didn't help much. Jim looked even more spankable with those blue eyes blazing over the black gag. He shook himself then took a slow deep breath. He had to calm down or the poor man's skin would be sliced to ribbons. Somehow, Blair managed to get himself together enough to begin. He smoothed the warmed lather in small patches over Jim's thighs and shaved him with clean smooth strokes. It was fascinating to him that a man who appeared to be so hairless had that much fine, near transparent hair covering his skin.
Genevieve chuckled. "That's why the shaving is necessary. It could be very painful to have a mold ripped from this area."
Blair murmured his agreement. He was concentrating over the cleft between his lover's cheeks. Jim was working hard to remain still. His breathing was labored.
"Relax, babe. Almost done this side," Blair said quietly. "I need you stay absolutely still for me."
Jim complied immediately. Blair gently and carefully went to work on the underside of Jim's testicles. It was slow work. Blair was incredibly hard. He could only imagine what kind of torture this was for Jim.
"Finished on this side," Blair announced in a husky whisper. "I'm going to release you and turn you over."
Jim nodded that he understood.
And Blair didn't know which side was more distracting. From behind there was that ass. From the front, there were those beautiful abs tapering down to those slim hips and the diamond hard cock waving at him. Jim was again helpless and spread open before him. His eyes blazed fever bright with the plea for relief. It took every ounce of will not to start sucking that tempting member. He resumed shaving.
"Very good, Blair. There is a strong will beneath that wantonness after all," Genevieve purred. "This tableau has almost made up for all of the worry you two have caused me."
"Almost," Blair thought with a start. "What would make things right?"
With the same skill and care, Blair shaved Jim's abdomen and inner thighs. Then after a short break to compose himself, he delicately shaved his genitals. Jim was panting like a racehorse when Blair stepped away made breathless from holding so still for so long without breathing.
"Release poor Jim," Genevieve said with amusement. "Your turn."
"Yes, Mistress," Blair sighed.
Jim was freed and the gag removed. Blair was grateful when his love took him by the wrists and gently shackled him to the apparatus face forward so that his backside was exposed. His relief was short lived as Jim secured his legs making him spread his thighs and arch his back. He had thought it was more difficult to be the shaver. This, he realized, would be real torture.
"Gag him," Genevieve said quietly. "I don't want that delicious voice causing you to injure him. Blair, just relax and enjoy those sensitive fingers on your skin."
Blair was about to reply when Jim stepped in front of him with the gag in hand. The incendiary stare brought fourth a moan. That's when the gag was put securely in place. He was helpless, silenced and very hard. He was somewhere between heaven and hell fighting hard not to buck or wiggle or do anything to provoke Jim into taking him that way despite the risk of being sliced to ribbons. It was amazing to Blair that it was such a difficult inner struggle. Thank goodness, Jim was more adept with the blade. His progress was swifter and surer than Blair's had been. The time in the chair in that position was mercifully brief.
It was a little better when Jim turned him to do the front. Blair was able to close his eyes and go into himself and meditate while Jim continued his task. Suddenly, he felt the leather straps loosened then removed.
"Voila!" Genevieve exclaimed. "You are ready."
Both men exchanged quizzical glances.
"Excuse us, Mistress," Blair asked. "But what are we ready for exactly?"
"Didn't I say?" She asked with a slight frown. "It must be all of this visual stimulation. My favorite sculptor is coming to make casts of your beautiful forms. I'm finally going to have those bronzes made.... and a few toys."
"Toys?" Blair squeaked.
Before Genevieve could answer there was bustling in the hallway. Suddenly, he was in the room. The first thing Blair noticed was the man actually wore a raspberry beret. Underneath the rakishly angled chapeau was a glorious mane of white hair which brushed his shoulders. He had those strong French features and intensely mirthful dark eyes. His clothing wasn't as flamboyant as the hat. He wore brown coveralls - stylishly cut for his thin physique, but coveralls nonetheless. Behind him a brood of servants carried in the equipment and were gone before he reached the Mistress.
"Darling, Genevieve! Thank the gods you are back in Paris!" He exclaimed.
There was a lot of hugging and cheek kissing before the man noticed that there were two naked, shaved men in the room. But then knowing the Mistress, such an occurrence was not unusual, Blair mused.
"Mon Dieu! I should have known you were not exaggerating," he gasped once he finally noticed the men.
"Andre, be still. Let me introduce you properly," the Mistress said with a small laugh. "Andre Toulon, may I introduce Jim and Blair. You may look your fill, but don't touch them. They don't share."
"Oh? The Mistress makes quite an exception," he chuckled. "Well, they are extraordinary."
"Don't pout, Andre. And mind your manners," Genevieve said pointedly.
"Forgiveness."
She nodded. "They are both very adept. Just tell them what you need them to do and they will do it. And we get to watch."
"Are you providing the wine?"
"And the other treats. Shall we?"
Andre looked them over critically. "Well, since they are so... so... stiff, why don't we begin with the toys."
"Mistress?" Blair asked.
"I'm going to have dildos made from these lovely cocks. I want you to know how you feel to each other," she replied with a wicked smile.
"Oh, gods," Blair groaned glancing at Jim. His lover's expression made him even harder.
"Toys it is," Andre said.
Genevieve sent for food and wine while Andre set his equipment up on a wheeled metal table. He mixed up what looked like thick pancake mix in a big metal bowl. He had cylindrical molds set to one side along with a bottle of vegetable oil.
"Okay gentlemen," Andre said. "First you're going to oil each other's... equipment with a thin coating of the oil. I'm going to fill the molds with the resin. You then insert those rods in the molds -- we can't have the subject of the procedure lying against your chest or the side of the mold. I need you to stay hard for at least twenty minutes. Do you think you can do that?"
"Can we touch each other?" Blair asked.
"Well, certainment. I'm not allowed to..."
"Have some wine, Andre," Genevieve quipped. "Jim...Blair..."
"Yes, Mistress," Jim replied. He already had the bottle of oil in hand. He poured some in Blair's cupped hands then watched as Blair coated his cock then carefully slipped the mold over his erection. He carefully positioned the small plexiglass rods between his cock and the sides of the mold until it was pinned between them. Andre poured the blue mixture into the mold.
"Now your turn," Jim said thickly.
"Yes," Blair hissed. "Do it."
Jim deftly applied the oil and put on the mold with one hand. After he positioned the rods Andre poured more of the resin into the mold. Then he took his Guide gently by the hair and began kissing him oblivious to Genevieve's feral appraisal and Andre's open mouthed stare. For a long while, Blair was lost again. He wondered anew as that hot mouth moved over his, how that man could transport him to another plane with just a kiss. When they finally separated, both men were breathless.
"I don't think staying hard will be a problems," Blair panted. "Getting out of these may be."
"It's nearly time," Andre said.
"Hmmmm... we can't have you stuck in there," Genevieve said thoughtfully. "Separate a little. And let's talk about something less provocative. Andre, what is the big news in Paris?"
The sculptor thought for a moment. "Well, the farmers are still unhappy. Once in a while, they block all the traffic. It's all very tiresome."
"What are they unhappy about?" Jim asked.
"Prices... the EU and probably the blue cows," Andre replied.
"Blue cows?" Blair asked.
Andre shrugged. "It makes no sense. The cow is stolen one day and the next he returns painted blue. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was Cristo, but he is too arrogant to remain anonymous."
"But what's the point?" Jim sputtered.
"No one knows for sure," Andre replied. "Some speculate it is an homage to the Blue Dog Man. There have been debates about it amongst the critics. No one even knows how he does it."
Jim and Blair exchanged perplexed stares. Blair felt that there was a whiff of the motif crime thus lending itself to the possibility that it was the sort of weirdo that only they could attract. But Jim's eyebrow was at rest. Perhaps he was overreacting.
"Well, that's just strange," Blair said. "Oh... wait... I think, yep.... I'm out."
Blair slowly pulled the mold off. Jim gently tugged at his to find it could come off as well.
"Now what?" Blair asked.
"You get comfortable against those stands after you're oiled up from the end of the rib cage to the tops of your thighs. Then the compound is spread on with gloves to a quarter inch thickness," Andre said. "But only one of you can do the other. Once the compound is spread on the subject must remain still."
"I'll do Blair," Jim said with a fierce look in his pale eyes.
"And I'll do Jim," Genevieve said. "Take no offense, Andre."
"I'm not," he replied with an appreciative sigh. "I'm beginning to see how extraordinary their attachment is."
Genevieve posed Blair so that he was comfortable and the way she wanted him. Then, Jim put on the gloves, coated his lover with the oil then spread the compound in the way Andre had indicated.
"You will you make the statues from this stuff?" Blair asked as he watched the Mistress slather that goo on Jim's buff form.
"Eventually. The resin is only to capture the original form. It will go through many stages before it will be ready for the bronze."
Thus, they stood chatting about Genevieve's social circle while incased in the gooey rubber. Blair was confused by the strange turn of events from a mere three days ago, but Jim seemed very much at ease and amused by it all. After another half an hour, they were free from the goo and back in warm, soft robes.
"Stay for lunch, Andre?" Genevieve asked.
"No, no cherie. I know that you are anxious to have your art and I need to work off all of this stimulation," he said ruefully. "Au revoir."
"A Bientot."
Once they were alone, she turned and smiled at them. "We'll have to play while we still have some peace and quiet."
"Are you expecting trouble, Mistress?" Jim asked softly.
She shook her head. "Annoyances. Dearest Andre has a very big mouth. He'll tell everyone in my circle how beautiful you both are and how I am reluctant to share you. They will want to come and see for themselves."
The Mistress strolled over to them. She absently stroked Blair's curls then Jim's jaw. "No one has a hope in hell of sharing you, but I don't even want a moment's distraction," she murmured.
"What do you want us to do?" Blair asked.
"Get cleaned up," she replied. "We'll get to the matters at hand after lunch."
Blair took Jim by the hand. "Yes, Mistress."
Jim followed after his newly shaved slightly oily lover with the full intent of enjoying the extra-smooth skin in the shower. He quickly discovered, however, that his lover had other plans. As soon as the bedroom door clicked into place behind them, Blair had Jim literally by the balls compelling him to his knees.
"I cannot sense pheromones, but I know what you have in mind," Blair said quietly. "But that's not what you need right now."
"No?" Jim dared to ask.
Blair squeezed him a little bit harder making Jim gasp. He leaned in until his lips were mere millimeters from his. "No. You need what we can give you. Now, we will get cleaned and go to lunch and you will wear your collar for the rest of this vacation. Am I clear?"
"Yes," Jim hissed.
He was kissed quite thoroughly for compliance. Yes, Jim knew what he wanted, but he wasn't completely mollified. He would bide his time.
The Mistress found them a half an hour later already seated at the dining room table. Jim was wearing the collar and Blair had a smile on his face.
"You've taken control at last," she gushed.
"It was self defense. He would have overwhelmed me and we would have missed another whole day," Blair said in exasperation.
Jim had his eyes cast down, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.
"So sure of yourself, are you?" The Mistress asked aloud. "You are a very talented lover, but you are the one enslaved, pet."
"Yes, Mistress," Jim said readily enough, but he felt like challenging them both. In his mind's eye, he saw himself kissing them senseless then having them in turn. Paris or not, he preferred the idea of cuddling those beautiful bodies between those expensive sheets to anything the city had to offer.
Blair was already attacking his lunch, but Genevieve was gazing at Jim intently as though his thoughts were all clear to her. She smiled at him with much the same expression she had the first time she paddled him raw. He had been certain that he could handle her then as well. Jim dropped his gaze and began to eat. Genevieve chuckled.
"Have you reviewed the file, Blair?"
"Yes, Mistress. It was very interesting."
"Good. You will interview her after lunch," she said. "Jim and I will watch."
"I'm ready."
Jim's breath caught at the predatory gleam in Blair's eyes. Let the games begin.
The Sentinel was lead to a plush sofa in the Playroom and arranged in the fashion that the Mistress had found them in the loft. Then, she opened his robe.
"When I saw you like this, it occurred to me that you'd make a lovely lounge chair. We can observe from here," she said settling onto his lap. Genevieve relaxed against Jim's chest. She put one of his arms across the back of the sofa. The other she rested around her waist.
Jim inhaled deeply enjoying her scent and the feel of her. She sighed.
"You feel incredible, pet."
"Thank you, Mistress. You do, too."
Tammi walked in at that point. Her blonde head was down as she approached Blair who sat a short distance away in an overstuffed chair. He was considering the file then her over his glasses.
"Remove your clothing then get on your knees," Blair said softly.
"Yes..." she began.
"Yes, Blair."
"Yes, Blair."
"You have traveled a long way and endured much for this meeting," he said.
"Yes, Blair."
"Did you enjoy being tortured by the kitchen staff? They were quite harsh to you."
"No, I did not, but they were not happy to have a surprise trainee."
"Why endure it at all? You have been attached to some important houses," Blair said. "Are you so willful that you could not find contentment in any of them?"
"Pardon?"
"Do you think us so permissive that you could come to rule us?" Blair demanded. His voice was soft but held a distinct edge.
"No, Blair!"
"Then why, Tammi? Why did you seek our attention?"
The girl gasped at the intensity of his voice as did Jim.
"You... didn't... you didn't... care..."
"What?"
"You weren't impressed with my tits or my ass. I was just a tool to be used. It was the first time I actually felt like a slave," she said in a rush. "The others...they would start worshiping my body. I had to be the one to decide when to play and how to play. It wasn't what I wanted."
"Really?" Blair sounded incredulous.
"Yes, Blair. I seek to serve. I demand nothing," she whispered.
"Then, I could turn you away," Blair replied.
"Yes, Blair," Tammi choked out.
Jim was glad to never have had Blair look at him with such clinical appraisal. He was not even moved by her tears. The Mistress was very excited. Jim could feel her wetness on his bare thighs.
Blair closed the folder then stood up. He walked around her slowly. He gazed at Jim with a question in his eyes. Jim found himself nodding at his lover.
"You will not find sexual pleasure from either of us. You will serve in every other way," Blair said. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Blair. Thank you, Blair."
"We will see how much resolve you really have."
"Yes, Blair."
"Thank me," Blair demanded flatly.
The woman was kissing his feet in an instant.
"Enough. Wait in the corner."
"Yes, Blair."
Blair turned toward the sofa and caught Jim in his stare.
"Now, Jim, do you know how it's going to be?" he asked quietly.
Jim swallowed hard. But he was hard and hot and wanted to press his now formidable lover. Blair saw the challenge in his eyes and smiled.
"Mistress, may I help you up?" Blair asked with an extended hand.
"Thank you, my sweet."
Blair pulled her lithe form against him. Genevieve gasped. Jim watched in amazement as his love swooped in on the Mistress to kiss her thoroughly. She moaned as he pulled away.
"Would you like a seat, Mistress," he murmured against her mouth.
"I'll stand. Proceed."
Blair walked over and took Jim by the cock then led him to the shaving chair. "That's right. Just as you were today with your ass spread for me," he said mildly. "Tammi, fasten the bonds."
"Yes, Blair."
"Mistress, may I borrow the lash with the foot long handle and the thin suede straps?"
"Hmmm, nice choice," she replied.
Jim moaned.
"Oh, you'll have my attention soon," Blair murmured running a hand down Jim's spine. "You look so good like this. I'll never be able to get this out of my mind.
"And so," Blair murmured into Jim's ear. "You are spread for my pleasure once more, beautiful bottom. This is what you need... this is what you crave..."
Jim moaned at the tongue skillfully rimming his ear. He tried to turn his head for a kiss, but Blair stepped away too quickly. The Guide laughed softly as he walked back to the enticing butt smacking it in appraising strokes.
"It must be obvious that we are going to take things at my pace, my love," Blair said mildly though the last smack had enough to cause redness.
"You'll wear your hand out on those muscles, dearest," Genevieve drawled handing Blair the lash.
"Thank you, Mistress."
Blair snapped the strands of the lash making Jim gasp in anticipation. He wasn't going to punish his lover with pain alone. Jim was trained to endure more pain than Blair could willingly dish out. Besides, there were more pleasurable combinations of sensation that were very effective in driving Jim to the brink of madness. Still, there was something about bringing that lash down repeatedly on that beautifully muscular ass while that powerful man was helpless to stop it. The power was heady. It made Blair feel potent and unstoppable.
Jim's buttocks was near scarlet and sheened with sweat. Blair handed off the tool and knelt. He blew across the heated skin causing Jim to moan even louder than he had during the whipping.
"I know, I know," Blair murmured. "I'll cool it down."
Blair smiled to himself as he nuzzled his hair across the reddened area knowing that though it would soothe the skin, it would make Jim feel even more.
"Please..." Jim gasped.
"Please?" Blair replied mildly. He ran his tongue down one cheek. Then blew cool air across the moist path.
"Oh, god... please..."
"Please what?" Blair asked before gently nipping along the cleft.
Jim began to struggle. Blair smacked him hard. "You will not hurt yourself. Tell me what you want, Jim. Tell me what you need..."
"N-need... n-eed you in me...please..."
Blair snapped at Tammi who responded swiftly by fetching a selection of lubes from the cabinet. Blair chose one then began to prepare Jim.
"I own this, don't I?" Blair whispered.
Jim didn't respond at first. Blair inserted two fingers. "Don't I?"
"Yes... please..."
"That's what I want to hear," Blair replied softly. Then, he pushed inside. Once he was balls deep, Blair reached around to grasp Jim's erection. Then, he whispered in his ear. "I can take as long as I want with you. You can't even move enough to rock against me. This will be such a long ride, Jim."
And it was. Blair controlled his own lust so that he could pump slowly in and out of his lover bringing him to the brink then slowing even further. Jim moaned in pleasure and frustration pleading with Blair to finish him, but the Guide just laughed softly never changing the slow sensual rhythm. Finally, when he sensed Jim was most desperate, Blair began to vigorously thrust while stroking Jim harder. He made sure to hit the pleasure center each time. On the fourth stroke, Jim howled. His orgasm grasped Blair's erection bringing him over. They were drenched in sweat as Blair leaned heavily on Jim's back.
"Tammi, draw a bath for them," Genevieve ordered. She was nearly breathless. "Then help Blair release Jim."
"Yes, Mistress."
Getting Jim out of that chair was much harder than it was to get him in. He couldn't coordinate his movements enough to help them much. Even when he was free of the contraption, it wasn't smooth sailing. His limbs were wobbly. Three sets of hands were necessary to help him down into the tub. By the time they finished cleaning up and toweling off, it was Blair who was exhausted.
Genevieve chuckled. "He used to tire me beyond words as well, Dear One."
Blair mumbled something while giving Jim a rueful look. He could tell that Jim wanted to grin at him. It wasn't insubordination though. A light of happiness shone in his eyes.
"May I take you to our room?" he asked gently.
Blair nodded. He was immediately swept into Jim's arms.
"I must check on my clubs," Genevieve said. "I'll look in on you later."
"Goodnight, Mistress," Jim said. Blair was already asleep.
Jim felt great aside from the very sore asscheeks and the stiffening muscles at his joints for being held for so long. He gently placed Blair on the bed then joined him. His Guide immediately snuggled close to him. Jim gently stroked his jawline. He loved when Blair let the power course through him. Aside from being a major turn on, it reminded Jim of just how strong and controlled his lover could be and that he was wise to have faith in him.
"There were times when I had to rest an entire day after contending with you subtle willfulness," Genevieve said from the door. "I sensed more fight in you today even after the interview. Why didn't you push him."
Jim considered Blair's sleeping face. "He had too much resolve. He would have walked away and let me really suffer rather than give in. I felt that from him."
"I think you're right." she replied. "He was magnificent tonight."
"He seems to have recovered from the trauma."
"I would say so," she replied. "So have you."
"What now?"
"Now, we enjoy Paris and we continue to play."