by Nicole S

The fire after the explosion had been the worst part. Flames licking the sides of his ears, the heat making his leather jacket steam as he pulled Mac and Li Ann out of the wreckage. Victor didn't know how he found the strength to drag them out of there, but he did and placed Mac and Li Ann at the wounded Director's feet before collapsing.

He didn't remember much after that except waking in the hospital a few days later with Mac in the adjacent bed.

It took nearly a month to heal while the men argued, talked, and got to know one another.

The time spent in the hospital was pure agony. Vic suffered from third degree burns to his lower back, singed ears, broken ribs and a punctured lung. They also had to remove his spleen. The pain of healing was so intense that it drove him to press his face into his pillow and sob every single day.

He tried to conceal his emotions from Mac, but the young man could hear his distress. Mac, recovering from a broken leg, dislocated shoulder and some minor burns, hobbled to Vic's bed, sat on the edge and tried to calm him down.

"Hey, man," he said, gently patting Vic's leg. "I know it hurts. You cry all you want."

Vic denied he was crying, but Mac knew.

Mac sat by Vic's side for hours, caressing his leg, trying to make the other agent feel better. He never went beyond the leg, however, and much to Vic's disappointment, only as high as his knee. Vic wanted to hold him in his arms and have him kiss his pain away. At night, he dreamt that Mac would do this to him and much more, leaving him groaning in agony seemingly greater than the pain of his wounds. He couldn't tell the young man, however. He couldn't be that forward; that wasn't him.

Li Ann came in a few times but didn't stay too long. She had superficial burns and scrapes, but nothing too serious, as the men had mostly shielded her from the fire. By the time Vic and Mac got out of the hospital, they hadn't seen her in a long time.

His first night home, Vic was surprised to find Mac at his door, asking how he felt, wondering if he still hurt. Quickly they fell into a routine, Mac coming over every night to drink some beer, eat some new food that Vic had tried out of one of his many cookbooks, and talk. Vic always hoped that something else would happen, but he never pressed his luck, so it never did.

They still argued, still delighted in egging each other on and criticizing one another, especially at their daily physiotherapy sessions. And even though their egos refused to admit it to each other, they had become friends.

A month after getting out of the hospital, Mac turned up at Vic's door agitated and half-drunk. He quickly explained that he'd found out Li Ann had gone back to Hong Kong to be with Michael. He had somehow survived the car crash and explosion and was alive, albeit not well.

"Michael! He's got more lives than a damn cat," Vic grumbled.

"We should fly to Hong Kong and kick his wounded ass!" Mac shouted, pacing Vic's apartment, his hands clenching into fists, frustration showing on his face. "I can accept that she doesn't love me anymore." He looked at Victor. "I can even accept that she actually loved you once."

Vic sat down and leaned back. He knew exactly how Mac felt.

"I just can't..." the young man began then stopped. "I just can't accept the fact that she's with Michael. He tried to kill us, tried to kill her. It's like he has some sort of power over her." Mac threw his arms up in frustration before flopping on the couch beside Vic. "She never loved him, she thought of him as family, a brother. Not as a..." Mac broke off and leaned forward, his head in his hands.

Vic looked over at Mac and gave a short, sympathetic smile before reaching over and placing a hand on his back.

"I know it hurts." He repeated Mac's own words to him. The words that had given Vic comfort so many times before.

Mac looked up at him, his brown eyes so sad, threatening tears at any moment. "Li Ann and I have known each other since we were kids. For a while, all we had was each other. I always promised that I would get her away from the Tangs and start a new life for us somewhere else."

"You tried, Mac."

"I wanted to give her something better."

"You can't protect her forever." Vic rubbed Mac's back as he spoke. "You have to let her live her own life." He sighed loudly, "As much as I denied it, I knew she never really loved me; I was just convenient for her."

They sat, Vic rubbing the same spot on Mac's back over and over, their thighs touching, arousing Vic beyond comprehension. His heart pounded as conscious thought left his mind. He reached down and tilted Mac's face up to his before planting a sensual kiss on his full lips. They lingered for a moment before Mac quickly pulled away and nearly fell off the couch.

"I... uh... I have..." Mac jumped up and ran to the door, opening it to leave.

"Mac, wait." Vic leapt off the couch and raced Mac to the door then slammed it shut before he could escape. "I'm sorry, I was just caught up in the moment."

"Look, Vic, I'm flattered." Mac laughed, "If I was you I'd be turned on by me, too," he said, trying to make a joke. "But it's just not... I can't... I'm your friend."

Vic nodded, "Okay. Friends." He turned away from Mac, leaving him at the unlocked door. Vic's guts wrenched and his heart pounded. How could he have been so stupid as to think that Mac would want him? He knew he shouldn't have taken the initiative. It was better just to let things happen if they happened and not be in charge. Being aggressive only meant that he left himself open to get hurt. He sat down on his couch and stared blankly at the television screen, which wasn't even on.

He was surprised a minute later to hear the fridge door open and the clink of bottles. He was waiting for the front door to slam. Then a cold beer was pressed into his hand.

"Look," Mac began. "Let's just be buddies here and get drunk over a lost girl, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Vic said and clinked his bottle against Mac's. Having him as a friend was better than nothing.

Afterward to curb his lust and resist another fiasco with Mac, Vic found himself frequenting an out of the way club with pretty young men. He told himself he was only there to relieve tension; it didn't mean anything; it was just sex. With perfect strangers, he could be aggressive and it didn't matter. They didn't know who he was, or his business.

He found himself going to the club a few times a week but didn't take anyone home, instead opting for blow-jobs from any tall, dark stranger he could find. As unfulfilling as it was, it did take the edge off.

Six months later, Victor was alone with the Director in the large conference room, she sitting on the table, the slide projector remote in her hand. The machine made its familiar whirring click then a picture of a rather large man wearing a toga came into view.

"He calls himself Cesar," the Director began.

Vic wondered where everyone else was. It wasn't often that Jackie and Nikki were late, and Mac... well, he was always late. But it was still odd being here by himself. Being alone with the Director unsettled him.

"This man was a black mark on our records at my club," she seethed. "His membership was revoked months ago for not playing by the rules. He was certainly not playing safe, he was clearly insane, and the young men he had brought as guests were definitely not there under their consent. He's a disgrace to our fellowship. It's supposed to be about having fun."

Vic nodded at her although he decided this discussion was in the 'too much information' category.

"Where's Nikki, Jackie and Mac?" he asked.

"Jackie is trying to infiltrate Ernie Kingsheimer's son's gang. Since the death of his father, Prince Kingsheimer has been up and coming up in the crime world, and has taken over the family business. Jackie is trying to get into The Prince's head. She seems to have that way with people."

The Director gave Victor that 'look' she always gave when she meant to indirectly insult someone. He cleared his throat and she continued.

"Nikki managed to get Mac into an exclusive rave club that is a front for a slave ring. She still passes herself off as young and hip." The Director paused, but Vic wasn't going to say anything no matter how much he wanted to.

"Young men kept disappearing from this club. We suspected it could have been part of the Colonel's gang, but that lead turned into a dead end. These young men or their bodies were never found, so they are still alive. We now know that they are being taken to a private resort run by Cesar, which stages mock gladiator fights with the young 'slaves' he kidnaps." The Director paused. "The loser is the winner's prize for any sexual pleasure he wants."

"Any pleasure?" Vic croaked then looked like maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud.

The Director leaned forward, her cleavage heaving with her breaths. "Any." She leaned back.

Victor swallowed.

"But by the time Nikki had found out that little nugget of information, it was too late.

"Too late?"

The Director slid off the table and went around to the back of Vic's chair, where she massaged his shoulders for a moment. "Mac had already been captured and whisked away to Cesar's resort. Now you have to get him back."

Vic's heart jumped, and his mouth went dry as worry and panic consumed him, but he played it cool.

"Me? Why me? Nikki was Mac's partner on this mission, and she lost him. She should go get him." He frowned. "Just because she's been rolling around in the dust with a bunch of people in Afghanistan and firing a gun once in a while, that doesn't mean she knows anything about being an agent. And even though she has a connection with this 'rave' culture and this music doesn't mean she's experienced in the field." He breathed in and out loudly. "It's the music, it's just, it's... It's evil. "He tried to sound as annoyed as possible to cover the concern he felt.

"That's what they used to say about Elvis Presley," she said as she walked around his chair.

Vic looked as if he'd been kicked in the groin.

"Don't worry, Nikki is being punished and is currently learning Zen and the art of car maintenance with Dobrinsky. She will not be allowed out of his garage for some time. I've taken extra precautions. The resort Mac was taken to is a 'male only' club, although I don't see why it should be. If I want to play with boys, that's my prerogative." She frowned and looked at Vic for a moment then gave a shrug. "You're the only one who can get him back."

"What do you mean, 'men only'?" he asked knowing the answer already. He started to sweat.

"It's a sadomasochistic sex resort. Only men allowed."

"Excuse me?" His heart jumped as he feigned shock rather than fear. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Victor, do I have to spell it out for you? Honestly." She sat on the table in front of him. "You will have to go to this resort and buy him back at the slave auction. That way we can prove that Cesar's dealing in human cargo and arrest him."

"Slave auction?"

"Victor, do pay attention. You and another agent will go to this resort and pose as Master and servant.

"And I'll be the..."

"Master. Although, I think you'd probably prefer being a bottom."

Vic laughed, he hoped not too nervously, then gave her a serious look. "Wait a minute, I'm not going to do anything like that with a complete stranger."

"I assure you, the other agent is quite experienced in his field. And besides, you even know him."

A few possibilities ran through Vic's mind, and he wasn't pleased with any of them. He didn't know if he could do this. When he frequented his club, he didn't have to do or say anything; he just had to stand there, and someone would come over and drop to their knees. He'd seen these tops, these Masters with their leather outfits and pierced nipples offering their slaves to each other, or just making a show of what their boys could do. Vic had watched with uneasy fascination at their complete comfort with having sex and displaying their naked bodies in front of God and everyone. He couldn't be so bold. Could he? He knew he had to get Mac out of this... whatever he had gotten himself into. He tried not to shiver, but the thought of displaying himself in public made him incredibly uncomfortable. There was still a moral guilt associated with "dirty sex" as his mother had called it. He looked the Director in the eye. He knew she'd won. She always fucking won.

"So, what? I get to boss people around all day?" 'And act like you,' he thought to himself.

The Director frowned again and leaned forward, caressing Vic's cheek with her hand. "Victor, you really don't have a clue, do you?"

She pulled her hand away then got off the table and pressed a button on the console at the side. After a moment, the door opened and a very fit redheaded man wearing jeans, boots and a goatee came through the door. He was followed by another equally fit, yet less muscular man on a leash wearing nothing but a small scrap of leather covering his genitals. When they stopped, the man on the leash immediately dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his head bowed.

The Director went over to the redhead and kissed him on the lips then patted the man attached to the leash on the head.

"Victor," the Director purred with excitement. "This is Will. He'll teach you everything you need to know about being a... being in charge." She stroked the man's face, and he smiled at her. "Will is extremely qualified." She took the leash from Will and snapped her fingers. The man on the other end leapt to his feet yet kept his head down.

"You're a very good boy," the Director said to the young man. "Why don't you show Victor just how good you can be?" She unsnapped the leash from the collar at the man's neck. The man walked over to Victor before dropping to his knees and putting his head against his thigh. "How may I serve you, sir?"

"Whoa!" Vic stepped back from the young man but stopped suddenly. He knew that voice; it was somehow familiar. "No way. This is too weird."

"Well, you're going to have to get over it. I need you trained and on a plane in 48 hours. The auction is set for Tuesday, and you need to be up at the resort by Sunday." She smiled a wicked smile. "Now, why don't you be a good boy and come along with Nathan, and we'll get started."

As soon as the Director said his name, Vic balked. Nathan? He tilted the man's head up to meet his own. The man on the floor was fit, his muscles taut under tanned skin. He wasn't twitching, he wasn't sweating, and his voice was confident. This wasn't Nathan, not the one he knew, anyway.

"But it is Nathan," the Director purred in his ear, as if she could read his thoughts. "He has undergone quite a transformation since you've been gone. He's proven to be a most useful employee."

Victor could do nothing but stand there and stare. "I don't have to... I don't have to fuck him or anything, do I?"

"You'll do what Victor tells you to, right, Nathan?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Victor continued to stare in disbelief.

"Come, Victor, enough gawking. It looks like we've got a lot of ground to cover with you." She grabbed his arm and hauled him away, following Will and Nathan through the door.

2 days later

Vic sat back in the limousine and tried to relax during the hour-long ride from the small airport to the resort.

Nathan lay at his feet on the floor, smiling up at him, ready to serve his 'Master' at any moment.

Vic didn't glance down; he was trying to avoid Nathan as much as possible. He'd already had to deal with Nathan's desire to please on the private plane and didn't want a repeat of that in the car. He had wanted to lie on the floor, but the pilot wouldn't take off until he was secured in his seat.

Now that they were in the limousine, however, Nathan could do as he pleased. He was still clothed however, and for that, Vic was grateful. Vic closed his eyes. He was supposed to be the dominant one; he was the one who was supposed to be demanding, right? He felt Nathan nuzzle his foot. When he looked down, he saw the man was using his boot as his pillow.

"Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?" Vic rolled his eyes. "Look, while we have roles to play when we get to the resort, all this posturing is getting on my nerves."

Nathan looked up at him through his lashes, although this was the first time Vic noticed the other man even HAD lashes.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He nodded his head and breathed out. The Director owed him for this one.

Nathan climbed onto the seat beside Victor and looked at him intently. Vic stiffened as Nathan put his head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Victor was about to push him off when he spoke.

"Victor," Nathan said with determination into his ear. "I've been trained not only to be a submissive, but to be an agent. The Director herself hand picked me for this mission."

Vic was going to say something, but found Nathan's finger pressed against his lips. He felt his pulse race as Nathan climbed into his lap and embraced him. He didn't want anything physical from this man, he had made that perfectly clear before they left. They were here to find Mac and that was it.

He was about to protest when Nathan spoke again so only he could hear. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Cesar's men have been watching us since before we got on the plane. I'm pretty sure the limo is bugged. I'm definitely sure the plane was bugged. Now, if you want to make this a successful mission and find Mac, I suggest you get into character and stay there."

Nathan pulled away and gently ran a hand down Vic's face, but to Vic it felt as if he was being slapped. This was certainly NOT the Nathan he remembered. Wasn't he supposed to respect and obey him?

"I don't know you," Vic whispered. "I only know the sweaty man with the strange ideas and massive paranoia. I've never worked with you before like this, you're not who you used to be. How can I trust you?"

"You're just going to have to, aren't you?"

Anger suddenly washed over Vic and he grabbed Nathan by the shoulders. He held on to him for a moment, intending to do damage to the man, until realization washed over him. He knew Nathan was right, they were being watched, and Vic wasn't treating this seriously. He'd have to put his feelings aside to complete this mission successfully.

Vic brought Nathan in for a long, yet dry kiss, before pulling back. That was what he needed, something to shock his system and get him into his game. Now he was ready.

"On the floor," he barked, sending the other man scrambling down from Vic's lap.

"Good boy," Vic said, reaching down and ruffling Nathan's hair. He then leaned back again and tried to see out the tinted window. This was going to be a long mission.

During their training, Nathan had told Victor how he had been alone in the Agency library when Dobrinsky had told him of the shooting and explosion and how the Director had needed someone to tend to her as she healed. He'd explained how he had been nervous at first, and scared that the alien queen was going to use him to incubate her young. He'd soon realized that she wasn't an alien; she was a human being, and a lonely one at that. She'd told him he had 'hidden talents', which pleased him, no one had told him he'd been good at anything before. He liked making her happy.

He had been, and still was, loyal to the Director, and she liked that. Then she'd made him an offer to become an agent. He was good at gathering facts, and could listen in on conversations easily. He could be her little spy. Nathan had loved that idea. There was an assignment coming up, and with a little training, and a boost of self-esteem, he could be a great agent.

So, he went to train for months with Will, who had taught him everything he knew. The Director came in every day to check on his progress, and marvelled at his transformation. He remembered Nathan telling him, 'It was wild, Vic. I didn't know the human body could withstand so much.' Nathan had a new direction in life, which translated into self-confidence and self-assurance. The nervous, sweaty, wounded Nathan was gone.

Vic had filed that away in his 'too much information' side of his brain with the Director's various stories of her conquests and her private club. He thought about it now, though, and agreed that Nathan was trained exceptionally well. And he really enjoyed it. And if he got off by making people happy, then who was he to argue?

Although he knew Nathan was right about their deep cover, there was another reason why he didn't want to do this. When he was in Vice, Victor had posed as a pimp and gotten close to a man like Cesar. This man, Jake, would bring young men and women to his parties, invite them to stay in his home and supply them with drugs until they were addicted, then he made them a deal. They either had to sell themselves to his clients to remain high, or be turned out into the street where they'd be at the mercy of anyone. After they were used up, they'd be dumped.

One night, Jake had Vic prove himself with one of the young men. This man hadn't been much older than 20 and was high as a kite. Vic thought he didn't even feel himself being breached and fucked hard. When he was done, the young man looked at him with vacant eyes. His dick wasn't even hard. He was just a vessel, just a piece of meat.

Vic had felt disgusted with himself. He'd told himself he was trying to help these people by gathering the evidence to put Jake in jail. But even today, all these years later he still felt like a rapist.

The guys in Vice had never treated him quite the same way after it had leaked that he had to fuck another man. Vic had gratefully transferred to narcotics soon to get a fresh start, but that had been even more of a fiasco. He'd always suspected that his reputation was the real reason he had been set up by his so-called buddies.

And now he was walking into the same mess again, but this time the stakes were different. This time it was for Mac. And he convinced himself that Mac was more important to him than his reputation would ever be.

Mac groaned out loud as the cold water shocked his hot skin and worn muscles. He had been working all day in the searing heat, grooming the golf course and beach for guests that weren't even here. In the beginning, he'd refused to work and told them to shove it, but every time he protested, he got whipped so he stopped after a while. Now he and the others were finally being hosed down after a day of hard labour and jostled each other for position to gain the most spray from the hose.

He had woken here three nights ago, naked, lying on a plush rug. Before that, the last thing he'd remembered was dancing in that club with Nikki before following Cesar and a young man down a flight of stairs, then his whole world had gone black.

So, there he was on a plush rug in what looked like a hunting lodge with a large, bear-like man glaring down at him. Mac had refused the man's sexual demands and orders, fighting every step of the way, and after a few hours, and a good beating, he was banished to the 'stables', where proud and disobedient 'slaves' were kept for work details and 'training' to be obedient.

During the day they hauled dirt, cut grass and raked sand, things that Mac had never done for anyone before, but it was either that or face the consequences. Although he hated the degradation more than the pain, he decided that stained, cracked and blistered hands were better than getting whipped.

During the night, the slaves were taught discipline and forced to fight each other for dominance among them. The losers were not only forced to do extra duties, but were available for the pleasure of the men who beat them. Mac lost once and only once. While he was not unfamiliar with having sex with another man, he hated to lose.

Rumour had it that they would be auctioned off to the highest bidder once the guests arrived, and the harder they fought, the higher the guests would bid. Mac nearly gagged at the thought. He didn't want to be sold to someone like a possession; he was a man, not a thing.

The spray of the water stopped, jolting him back to the present, and he was led back to the barracks with the other men. He sure hoped the Director would pull him out of here soon, he didn't like it here. He put up his brave front as much as possible, but deep down he could feel a shiver of fear. He hoped she knew where he was. He mentally shook himself; of course she knew where he was, she always knew where he was, didn't she?

He shrugged the thought off. He knew the Director would probably want to come in here and pull him out by his ear for getting involved in the operation in a way he wasn't supposed to. But any woman would be turned away, he knew that at least. And besides, it wasn't his fault, Nikki was supposed to have been watching his back. No, she'd send Vic.

He hoped she'd send Vic. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he missed not seeing the other agent every day. Yeah, Vic was probably on his way right now... 'unless...' The Director wouldn't just leave him here to stew for a few more days, or a week, would she? He shuffled into the barracks with the other men, and tried to put the thought from his mind.

Vic looked down at Nathan as the limousine rolled to a stop. He breathed in and out quickly and reminded himself that no matter what he had to do, he was on a mission to save Mac. If he could just keep that focus, he could do this.

The door opened, and Vic got out of the large, black car and blinked into the bright sunlight. He immediately put on his sunglasses, his eyes slowly adjusting to the harsh contrast from the darkly shaded interior of the vehicle.

He heard another car pull up behind his, and realized that he was just one in a caravan of upscale cars. Nathan scrambled out of the vehicle like an excited puppy and ran around to the trunk to get his luggage.

Vic watched as men dressed in expensive clothing extracted themselves from the expensive cars. Some had companions, while others were alone. Suddenly, he noticed that a contingent of men clad in a leather g-strings were helping people with their bags. He was disappointed to notice that Mac was not among them.

A man holding a clipboard came over, checked Vic in, and gave him a security card and directions to his room. With Nathan in tow, he made his way across the grounds, noting the layout and possible security breach points. In two nights, Nathan, who apparently had vast computer knowledge, would disable the alarm system. This would allow the Agency to swarm the compound the night of the bonfire celebration in two nights. That would give them time to buy Mac back, and gather incriminating evidence against Cesar and his cohorts.

Their quarters were spacious, with a bedroom and parlour, along with a large washroom equipped with a whirlpool bath. D rings and hooks were set around the room so one could be bound wherever their Master pleased. There was a wardrobe full of toys and drawers of condoms and various lubricants from KY to Elbow Grease. A sling hung in the corner, swaying slightly from the overhead fan.

Vic eased himself into a chair set by the large sliding patio window in the parlour and watched Nathan, who was now dressed in nothing but a blue Speedo bathing suit, bustle around and put their things away. Nathan's lack of clothing seemed silly to Vic, but all the other slaves were wearing them, and they couldn't afford to stand out.

Suddenly, Nathan was kneeling beside him, his ever present willing to please grin on his face. "Would you like a drink, sir?"

"Yes, a beer would be nice."

Nathan smiled at him and quickly got up and went to the fridge in the corner. Soon, he came back with a frosty mug of beer as Vic had requested. Nathan leaned close as he handed him the glass. "There's a camera in this room and the bedroom, but the washroom seems to be clean. I'll check again just to be sure." He then dropped to his knees.

"Thank you, Nathan," Vic said.

He reached down and ruffled Nathan's hair and sighed into his mug as he took a sip. This was it. He was in character now and would be until it was time to kick some ass later.

Mac was tied to a frame, his limbs spread out, collar around his neck, blindfolded and gagged.

Vic had to hold himself back as he reviewed the slaves for sale at the auction. All of them were bound this way and on display like pieces of meat. Some of the guests went up to the slaves and fondled them or slapped them to see what they could take. He just stared at Mac, who was wearing only a skimpy bathing suit, his body taut and fighting his bonds. If Vic wasn't so worried about his partner, he would have sniggered to himself that at least Mac was quiet for once.

Yesterday he had lain in the sun and tried to gather as much information about the other 'Masters' as he could, while Nathan doted over him, offering everything from sunscreen application to feeding him lunch. Vic drew the line at being fed, although the other guests made their slaves do everything for them. Some of them treated their slaves rather badly, making Vic angry. Justice couldn't be served to these men. Not yet, anyway.

The most popular topic of conversation around the beach and neighbouring pool yesterday was the slave auction. There was talk of a wild, defiant slave who had only lost once during the Gladiator games. He was tall and handsome with a fine body and full lips that would look great stretched around one of their cocks.

Somehow, Vic knew they were talking about Mac, but he just smiled and nodded at them. He would have to outbid these assholes or Mac would be in a situation much worse than he was in already. He took one last wistful glance at his friend before taking a seat.

Vic watched as slave after slave was paraded before the audience. Most of these bound young men hung their heads, not in submission, but in shame. They didn't want to be here, they didn't deserve to be here and sold as mere objects. This was making him sick; didn't this Cesar or these so-called 'Masters' have any shame?

Finally, Mac was brought up before them, still bound, blindfolded and gagged. Murmuring rippled through the crowd as they were told of this slave's defiance and the need for him to be broken.

"The bidding will start at five thousand."

Victor raised his numbered paddle into the air.

"Five thousand, do I hear six?"

"Six thousand, seven?"

"Seven, can I get eight?"

"Ten."

"Ten thousand, thank you, sir. Do I hear twelve?"

"Twelve, thank you Mr. Christian. Fourteen?"

Vic raised his paddle into the air. This was going way too fast. Was the price supposed to rise this high this soon? He suspected this was Cesar's doing.

"Twenty," came a voice from the back.

"Twenty, very good, Mr. Daniels. Twenty-five?"

Vic started to sweat. He looked down at Nathan, who nodded his head slightly; he knew it was a high bid, but they couldn't leave Mac to anyone else. Vic raised his paddle into the air.

"Thirty?"

Mr. Daniels raised his paddle.

"Thirty-five?

Vic raised his paddle again.

"Forty?"

"Fifty," Vic said. Excitement vibrated through the crowd.

"Fifty, from Mr. Mansfield. Mr. Daniels?"

Vic noticed Mac's head move slightly at the mention of his name.

Mr. Daniels hesitated but raised his paddle.

"Seventy-five," said Vic. Nathan squeezed his leg from his position on the ground beside him. This was as high as they could go without contacting the Agency for more money.

"Mr. Daniels?" the auctioneer asked. "The bid is Seventy Five thousand dollars. Seventy-five thousand once. Seventy-five thousand twice. Sold to Mr. Mansfield."

The spectators and bidders broke into applause as Victor rose to collect Mac. Cesar met him at the pay desk.

"You've paid a lot of money for such a defiant slave, Mr. Mansfield."

"I like a challenge." Vic handed over an envelope of cash to the clerk.

"You have your work cut out for you. We'll see how you do tomorrow evening."

Vic was confused. "Excuse me?"

Cesar draped his toga around himself more tightly, revealing his lumps and bulges of obesity even more prominently. "Don't tell me you don't know about the 24 hour rule."

"Obviously, a detail has been overlooked."

The portly man grinned at him. "When you buy a slave from me, you have 24 hours to prove your worthiness as a Master. If the slave does not perform as he should, we void the transaction and the slave is disposed of. We can't have an inferior product tainting my good name." The man grinned more broadly. "This keeps second-rate Masters and frauds from leaving here with a product that they cannot handle. As you know, discretion is of the utmost importance."

"Of course," Victor seethed. This man was a piece of work, all right. As the Director had said, he, and those who followed him were a disgrace to society and this community.

"Then we'll see you tomorrow evening with your new, submissive slave." Cesar gathered the hem of his toga and waddled off to speak to the others who had won their bids.

Vic clipped a leash to Mac's collar and, with Nathan's help, escorted him back to their quarters. Once inside, the bindings were removed, enabling Mac to move freely, not to mention see and talk again. Vic hoped Mac would keep his mouth shut for once but the younger man spoke before he could be warned.

"Vic! I knew you'd come for me, buddy. Let's get out of here." Mac looked around the parlour and spoke low. "You've got a piece for me, right? 'Cause we're going to have to blast through tons of security."

Vic moved his mouth to Mac's ear. "We can't leave. Not yet. They're watching and listening."

"You haven't lost that wry sense of humour, Vic. Come on, let's go." He made a motion to go toward the door, but Vic grabbed his arm.

"I said you're not going anywhere," Vic harshly whispered.

"Come on, Vic, quit kidding around," Mac said, his voice dropping.

Victor got near Mac again and held him close so he could speak to him without the surveillance equipment picking up their conversation. "Does it look like I'm kidding?"

"Gee, nice 'tude. I'm treated like garbage for days and instead of rescuing me, I get treated like crap again."

"I'm sorry, Mac, I really am," Vic kept his voice low. "But we can't leave until tomorrow night. Like I said, we're being watched, so I suggest you stay in character until then."

"What? Be your little boy?" Mac pulled away from Vic and motioned to Nathan. "You have one already."

"Nathan, would you be kind enough to get me a glass of water?" Vic asked.

"Yeah, Nate, I'll take one too..." Mac trailed off as he watched the other man set about getting Victor's water before walking toward him. "Nathan? Our Nathan?"

"Mac," Vic warned, his gaze drifting up to where the video camera was.

Mac walked over to Nathan to check him out. "Look at you! She did this, didn't she?"

"This is the last time I'm telling you."

Nathan remained silent as he brought the glass of water over to Victor, who drank it down in one gulp and handed the glass back.

"Relax." Mac flopped down in one of the chairs.

Vic's eyes narrowed as he reached out and yanked Mac up from of the chair. He dragged him by the arm into the bathroom, where he pushed Mac to the floor and held him down.

"I warned you."

"Get off of me." Mac struggled.

"Not until you've calmed down. There's a lot at stake here."

"Fuck you!"

Vic felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Fine, you can stay here until you've learned your lesson. Nathan!"

Nathan appeared in the doorway.

"Nathan, bring me that length of chain and padlock in the wardrobe and some handcuffs."

Mac laughed, "What are you going to do? Chain me to the shower rod? You can't keep me here."

Nathan was back momentarily with the requested items.

"No, I'm going to chain you to the toilet." Vic reached up and cuffed Mac's hands together then ran the chain through the cuffs and around the porcelain. He then padlocked the chain together.

"I can pick this lock in under a minute," Mac taunted.

"With what, your dick?"

Mac looked like he was going to say something, but for once, was at a loss for words.

"Mac, if you say one more thing, I'm going to gag you again." To Vic's relief, the younger man stayed silent. "We are on a mission here. Part one of our mission was to get your ass out of the stables, although right now I wonder if you're worth a fraction of what I paid. Part two is to gather information on the others at the resort to use against them during the trial. Part three is when the Agency comes over the wall, but that doesn't happen until tomorrow night."

Vic leaned in close to Mac. "But we've run into a complication. Now we have to make sure we put on a good show, or they're going to kill you. But that doesn't seem to matter to you. It does matter to me, however. Not just the fact that someone is probably going to shoot you dead, but I will have to explain to the Director why you died, and fill out a lot of paperwork, and probably wax Dobrinsky's cars for the rest of my life. So if you don't care about yourself, at least think about me."

"You're exaggerating."

Vic was inches from Mac's face, and he could feel himself projecting heat from his body due to his sudden anger. "There are cameras in the parlour and the bedroom. Since we haven't found any here, this is the only room where we can speak freely, although we're not discounting another type of surveillance device." He breathed out slowly. "Mac, you need to stay focused and help us here. We need to get this guy and put him away."

"Fine, whatever, I'll play along. Now unchain me, so I can call for room service. I'm really hungry."

Vic stood, anger coursing through him. "You haven't heard a word I've said."

"What? Bow down to you. Be good, yada yada."

Victor left the room, but returned a moment later with a ball gag. He fit it around Mac's thrashing head and secured it in place. Then he turned off the light and shut the door to the bathroom, leaving Mac all alone.

Vic went to the bedroom, the farthest he could get away from Mac, sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. The young man infuriated him, to say the least. Didn't he understand the gravity of the situation?

About twenty minutes later Nathan came over to Vic and looked at him. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Vic shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Nathan opened the door to the washroom and turned the light on. He could see Mac squint against the sudden glare and turn his head away. He sat on the floor beside Mac and started stroking his hair.

"You're just as stubborn as he is."

Mac grunted and rolled his eyes.

"I had to tell him the same thing on the way down here, that we're on a mission, and are getting paid to do our job. The only way to pull this off is to get into character and stay there."

Mac mumbled something through the gag.

Nathan caressed Mac's face before removing the ball gag.

"Thank God," Mac said and flexed his jaw a few times. Then he looked at Nathan and frowned. "I'm not like that. I'm not submissive. I don't like being told what to do. I'm not a 'bottom'"

"You make submission sound like a bad thing."

"That's not me, Nathan. You may get off on people walking all over you and jumping at their every command, but I don't."

Now Nathan frowned. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't understand how a grown man can let people oppress him."

"It's not like that at all. When you give yourself to someone, it's very special. Doing things for them pleases me as well."

"I don't call being told what to do and jumping at someone's every command very special." Mac swallowed. "It's not very..." He looked disapprovingly at Nathan. "It's not what a man does," he said, condescension in his voice.

The old Nathan would have started to shake and sweat at conflict, especially after Mac had basically just called him a sissy. He still felt that uncomfortable twinge deep down, but this was the new Nathan. Even with that twinge inside, he decided enough was enough. He refastened the gag in Mac's mouth and left him there again in the dark.

Vic was sitting in the parlour when he came out of the washroom, and Nathan immediately went over to the bar where he poured two large shots of scotch, took a sip of one and gave the other to Vic.

Nathan clinked his glass against Vic's. "Here's to ball gags."

Vic smiled as he took the glass and swallowed a large gulp. Nathan took a healthy sip himself, the liquid burning sweetly down his throat. Nathan then put his glass on the table, sat down at Victor's feet and rested his head against his knee.

"He doesn't understand," Nathan whispered. "He thinks it's bad to be a bottom, just as you thought it was bad being a top."

Vic grunted and answered softly, "I never said it was a bad thing."

"Why didn't you want to come here then?"

"It's just not my scene."

Nathan shrugged. "I guess not."

Nathan's head was petted absentmindedly, and he wondered if Vic had ever owned a dog as a child.

Nathan stroked Vic's leg; he knew how difficult this process was. His training had taken six months; Victor had only had two days. He could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves. Vic needed to relax, if he made one mistake tomorrow, it could be fatal for all of them.

"Sir?"

"Yeah."

"You're very tense."

"Gee, what a great observation."

"Let me give you a massage."

"I don't think so, Nathan."

"Sir... Vic, if I may. You're going to have to be in prime condition tomorrow evening. You need a good night's sleep, and right now, you're too high strung to actually rest."

Vic scrubbed one hand over his face. "I'll be fine." He downed the rest of his scotch then stood and went into the bedroom.

Nathan followed him and watched as Victor unceremoniously disrobed and flopped into bed.

Two hours later, Vic was still tossing and turning. The impending scenarios of tomorrow evening ran through his mind, shoving sleep well out of reach. He was so worried about Mac blowing their cover that he was risking blowing it himself. They all had to stay in character. If they didn't put on a good show, they could take Mac away before the Agency had a chance to arrest Cesar and his cohorts.

He groaned then flopped over again, and suddenly found himself staring into the glare of the bedside light. Nathan was there as well, a scowl on his face.

"Okay, that's it; you're keeping me awake. On your belly."

"What?" Vic asked, surprise in his voice. "Aren't I supposed to order you around?"

"Remember 'topping from the bottom'?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Shush. On your front."

Vic hesitated then complied, he hadn't seen Nathan like this before and was afraid what would happen if he didn't do what he said.

Vic lay on his stomach, his arms under his pillow, cradling his head. He heard water running then low talking and Nathan bustling around. He strained his ears to hear what was going on.

"Relax, Victor," Nathan said from the next room.

He heard something being placed on the bedside table behind him, then felt the mattress dip as Nathan sat beside him. Next came the soft sound of fabric being laid down, which he suspected was towels. A slightly spicy, musky smell wafted over from whatever was placed on the bedside table.

Nathan tried to remove Vic's T-shirt, but he was met with resistance.

"No," Vic said. "Leave it on."

"It's coming off."

"It isn't." Vic tried to sit up, but was held by Nathan.

"Vic, your scars don't bother me. I've seen them before." Nathan began rubbing Vic's back through the cotton T-shirt, starting with long strokes, meant to calm and soothe.

"It's not the scars. It's just..."

"What?"

"No one's done... touched..."

"This is purely clinical, Victor. I just want you to relax."

Vic sighed. "Okay."

Nathan helped Victor remove his shirt, and, when he was settled, started stroking him again.

Vic bristled at the first touch of Nathan's oiled hands on his bare skin, but soon calmed down as he realized they were soft and felt nice. Like he said, it had been a long time since he'd been touched this way, especially since the accident. That was one of the reasons he only opted for blow-jobs in the sex club; he didn't want to have to show his body to anyone.

Vic groaned into his pillow as he felt Nathan straddle him and use his weight to lean into his shoulders before pausing for more oil.

Nathan began telling Victor about when he was a little boy there was another boy next door who got a puppy for his birthday. Nathan used to watch the boy and his puppy play together from his bedroom window and he wanted a puppy, too. He'd watch them play fetch and chase sticks, run after squirrels and have a great time together. Nathan was jealous of the boy next door and his puppy. He wanted a friend like that; he never had any friends.

They grew older, the boy turning into a young man, the puppy into a grown dog. Nathan noticed that the young man didn't play with the dog as much as he used to. The young man had lots of friends and didn't have time for the dog anymore. But that dog would sit and wait for the young man to come home, and when he did, his tail would wag and he would get excited and jump around.

Nathan was always jealous of the love and devotion the dog had for the young man. Nathan had always felt so lonely, up in his room with his asthma inhalers and air purifying filters humming. He promised himself that when he got older, he'd get himself a puppy and have something that would love him. But his apartment didn't allow pets, so he had to make do with some goldfish that he kept in a square white corning-ware dish as he didn't have a fish bowl...

Nathan's story bored Vic, although there was certain to be some sort of hidden message to it that he didn't care about right now. He had nearly tuned him out, only the somehow soothing tones of his voice coming through the haze. The fingers continued to dig into his back, working out all the knots and tensions of the past few days.

Vic had never felt this way before; he was usually a bundle of inner stress. He'd never allowed himself to let his guard down. He'd always been undercover, or too tense to totally relax. But Nathan was no threat, even with his new muscles and weight. Victor could break him in half if he had to.

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his boxer briefs and, surprisingly, gave no objection when they were removed from his body.

His upper thighs were being massaged and he couldn't help the blood filling his cock. He didn't really care. It just felt that good. He thought of Mac in the next room and how he wanted him here, wanted him stroking between his legs, lightly skimming his balls with his fingers, sucking and licking. He groaned out loud and pushed his hardness into the mattress.

Then Vic was being rolled onto his back. He was too weak to do it himself. He tried to reach down to cover his erection, but found his arms too heavy to move.

Nathan paid as much attention to the front of his body as he did the back, leaving Vic panting, hard and leaking.

"This is supposed to relax you, not work you up."

"I am relaxed."

Nathan trailed his hand up Vic's thigh to his cock and lightly stroked it with his fingers. "You're aching for it," he whispered. "Let me help you."

"No. I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Nathan said, still whispering. "You need to take the edge off."

"Fuck the edge."

Vic felt warm oil being drizzled on his cock then a strong hand grip it tightly.

"I said no. I said... Oh God, yes." Vic moaned again, giving in to what he really needed.

A few strokes later, Vic arched his back and warm semen spattered his chest. He gave a final moan then a sigh, then felt Nathan wipe him off with one of the towels. He wanted to unchain Mac and bring him here and snuggle with him, even though he had pissed him off so much. He wanted... He drifted off before he could finish the thought or feel Nathan kiss his forehead and pull the covers up to his chin.

The next day, Vic went into the bathroom and unchained Mac from the toilet. He noticed the ball gag had been removed, and the chain had been refastened to give Mac some more slack. Mac sat up and rubbed his aching arms and wrists.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Nathan slept in the open doorway most of the night."

Vic nodded. "I thought he would."

"We talked. And although he made some great arguments, I still don't like this."

Vic sighed. "I'm not too crazy about it myself, but we have to stop this guy, Mac. Think of how he treated you."

"Just like the way you're treating me."

"I'm teaching you a lesson."

"That's what Cesar said. I'm..." Mac was clearly frustrated. "I'm not a bottom!"

"I'm sorry, Mac, but you're going to have to play along. They're watching us for Christ sakes."

"I don't give a fuck if they're watching. This isn't me."

"Well, too bad," Vic said, exasperated. "Why do you think you were left in here all night? I had to show them that I could assert my authority."

"At the expense of my pride."

"You think I'm proud of this? I chained up the man I..." Vic stopped himself.

Mac swallowed. "The man you what?"

"Nothing." Victor inwardly kicked himself

"No, not nothing. Finish what you were going to say. The man I what? Hate? Despise? Dislike?"

Vic felt a stabbing in his heart. How could Mac think he didn't like him? "No, no, that's not it at all." He suddenly felt nervous, as if he was 15 years old again and speaking to his first crush.

Mac stood. "Fine, whatever." He made motions to leave.

Vic, shaking, used pure adrenaline to make himself stand, knowing what he was going to do next. He grabbed Mac's arm and whipped him around, slamming him against the wall. "Did I say you could go?"

"I told you, Victor, I'm not playing this game."

Vic reached down and grabbed Mac's sac through the skimpy bathing suit he still wore. "This isn't a game."

Mac's hand came down to cover Vic's, but he found it pinned back against the expensive wallpaper.

"Leave it there," Vic whispered.

Mac looked as if he was going to move, but thought better of it. His eyes rolled back in his head as his rapidly filling cock was kneaded and massaged until it was hard.

Vic heard Mac whimper, which made him smile. Whether he knew it or not, this was what he needed. "Mac," he began, his voice sultry and low. "You're going to do this and like it, or I'm going to leave here and let you rake leaves for Cesar in the fall."

Mac gasped and opened his mouth to say something, but Vic cut him off. "You may not speak."

Vic squeezed Mac's sac harder and tugged slightly, causing him to cry out.

"I hear he's open year round. I wonder how much snow they might get up here?"

"You wouldn't... you wouldn't leave me here. The Director..." Mac gasped as his balls were tugged on again, the last word more like a sigh.

"I said you may not speak. I will leave you here if you don't smarten up. I'll tell the Director you were bought by someone else and taken away."

Victor gave Mac's balls one final squeeze then leaned back and admired his handiwork. Mac was a mess, his cock was poking through the top of his swimsuit, a pearly drop of precome on the tip. Vic licked his lips at the sight, he wanted to taste that drop so bad. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Mac on the cheek, lingering for a moment only to whisper, "Now, clean up and let's go get the bad guys."

Mac only nodded and rubbed his exposed cock against Vic's leg.

Victor stepped back and looked at Mac, whose face wore an expression of pure confusion. He opened the door and said, "No coming. I'm sending Nathan in to keep an eye on you."

Mac let out a frustrated groan as Vic left the room and Nathan entered.

Vic shut the door behind him then leaned against the wall, gasping. He was shaking and sweating. He had never spoken to Mac that way, hell, he'd never spoken to anyone like that before. Or grabbed anyone's dick, for that matter, just to prove a point.

He felt exhilarated and scared at the same time. What would Mac think of him now? Did Mac think this was all part of the role, or did he realize just how much Vic wanted the younger man? He laughed to himself; was it wicked to like this? He moved away from the wall and started into the bedroom, pondering the thought.

It was still hot that evening when Vic left their rooms, Mac and Nathan in tow, their leashes in his hand. As instructed by Cesar, Mac was wearing nothing but a silver cock ring, which didn't do anything to quell Vic's urges.

They strode through the grounds, Vic's head held high, full of adrenaline from earlier that day. They got to the bonfire celebration on the white sand where Masters sat in canvas beach chairs and relaxed while their slaves toasted marshmallows for them and served them cocktails. A few slaves were giving their Masters blow-jobs, and one was getting fucked down by the water.

Vic knew that in a few hours the Agency would storm the place and bust every single one of these cruel men around him. And by the way they were drinking, it looked like it would be easy pickings.

Nathan and Mac sat at his feet as the bonfire continued throughout the evening, various Masters showing how well they had trained their newly bought slaves on a makeshift stage set with a frame and flogging horse. Most were particularly cruel, leaving more than one young man unconscious to be dragged away. Vic was sickened; he couldn't wait for this to be over.

Nathan was stroking his leg then lightly pinched the inside of his knee, the signal that it was time for him to go and put the scheme into play. Vic leaned down and whispered to him, then sat up suddenly and yelled at the other man, "Well, go get it!" Nathan scrambled off into the direction of their rooms. He wanted to go with him; he didn't like Nathan working without backup. While he trusted Nathan, Vic didn't really know what the younger man was capable of as an agent. But he couldn't leave with everyone's eyes on him and Mac.

"Mr. Mansfield," Cesar said, suddenly beside him. "I see you have tamed this wild one, but you seem to be having trouble with your boy?"

"No trouble. You just have to know how to show them who's boss." Vic knew those words were wrong as soon as they came out of his mouth. It was as if he was challenging the other man.

Cesar's eyes darkened, "Perhaps it is time you showed us just how you did it." He motioned to the small stage.

Vic smiled at the portly man, but his mouth was as dry as sawdust. This was it; there was no turning back now.

He led Mac up to the stage and secured him to the frame, his back to the crowd. He thought he should say some words of encouragement but couldn't think of any right then.

"Let's get these creeps," Mac barely whispered, making Vic nearly smile.

Vic went over to the assortment of toys and implements of pain along the side of the stage. He picked up an oxblood leather flogger from the rack and held it in his hand, caressing the worn leather handle with his thumb, trying to remember everything Will had taught him.

He looked at Mac, naked and bound. For the first time, he noticed he was tanned a deep brown, save for a skimpy tan line. His cock jumped as he moved closer to Mac, swaying the flogger in his hand. His nipples puckered with excitement as he let the tendrils of the flogger caress Mac's back, draping down over his shoulder. That's when Vic noticed the marks.

Mac's back was covered in old scars and wounds inflicted over the past few days. He stifled a cry as he thought of this fat bastard hurting Mac like this. The very idea made his skin crawl. He wanted to take Mac in his arms and comfort him, not hurt him. He cursed Cesar under his breath.

"Do it," Mac hissed.

Vic hesitated a moment before continuing his sensual teasing of his partner. He had to see this through to the end.

He angled the tendrils down Mac's ass crack and between his legs, lightly slapping the inside of his thighs before going around to face him, where he teased his bound cock with the leather strips. Mac looked up, his lips swollen with passion, and eyes heavy, the lids fluttering as he stifled a cry when Vic teased his nipples with the flogger then pinched them hard.

Suddenly, Vic lunged forward and kissed Mac, his tongue plunging into the moist heat of his mouth. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he lingered for a moment then pulled away to step back behind the bound man.

Gently, he ran his hand down Mac's shoulders to caress his ass cheeks, then up to the curve of his back, not wanting to touch the wounds there, but had no choice. He than ran his hand back up to his shoulders before going back down to cup Mac's ass cheeks. He did this a number of times, sensitizing the skin with the palm of his hand, his fingernails, and the flogger.

Vic couldn't tell who was trembling more, he or Mac. Mac's body gleamed with sweat in the light from the fire and the torches around them. A bead of sweat rolled down Vic's forehead, and he was suddenly very hot. He ripped the black T-shirt he wore over his head and flung it aside, not caring who saw his scars now. If they thought he was a Master, then he'd be a Master.

"Now," Vic whispered softly and watched Mac tense in his bonds.

He raised his arm and whipped the tendrils of the flogger against Mac's ass. Mac flinched as the first strike made its mark, but didn't cry out. Blow after blow landed on the soft padded area of Mac's round buttocks, but he still didn't make a sound. Victor did it again and again, his arm using fluid strokes for precise control.

After making Mac's ass thoroughly pink, Victor moved up to lash Mac's back, then down to the upper part of his thighs, ensuring to flick along the underside of his balls.

Every blow landed on its predetermined mark, Vic's concentration showing in how he wielded the flogger. Suddenly, he felt like another person, as if he was standing outside his body watching this from afar, yet at the same time, he felt everything. As the leather lashed Mac's flesh, leaving a trail of pain, Vic was sure he could feel it hit his own back. He could feel the heat searing his own skin.

Vic struck harder, causing Mac to cry out, eliciting a soft moan himself. He put his arm down and took a step forward and stroked the sweaty, heated flesh, marvelling at the colour and the temperature of the skin.

"Once more," Vic whispered as he stepped back into position. He lifted his arm and struck a few more times, harder than he had before, sending shivers up his own cock, moaning with Mac's cries. They shared every hit, every sharp shard of pain between them, as if they had become one person.

Finally, Vic threw the flogger down and just stood there, his chest heaving from exertion and arousal. He could feel his pulse pound into his cock, making it impossibly thick and hard. In an instant, he was himself again, separate from Mac. He didn't want the feelings to leave; he didn't want to be himself, he wanted to feel that oneness again. He tried to will them back, but they wouldn't come.

He looked at Mac's sensitive skin, excitement and desire running through him. He'd enjoyed that a lot. Too much, actually. When Will had been training him, Vic had gone through the motions but had never felt anything like this. Will had told him to enjoy himself and lose himself, 'Once more, with feeling,' he'd said. Vic had never understood what he had truly meant until now.

He didn't notice the men standing around with their dicks in their hands, he didn't notice the full moon overhead, or the crickets chirping, or the fact that the Agency would be busting through the door in just over an hour.

"Sir? Sir?"

Nathan was suddenly beside him.

Vic looked down at him for a few seconds before acknowledging him. "Yes, Nathan?" His voice hoarse.

"Shall I release Mac?"

Realization suddenly took over and Vic rushed over to Mac and looked at his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were swollen more than before. His skin was slick with sweat. Looking up, he grinned hungrily.

Vic's groin throbbed some more, as he felt Mac project waves of raw emotion and lust. He knew something had changed between them; it was going to be different from here on in. It could never be the same again, not after what they'd shared. He bent forward to kiss Mac, when he sensed a presence beside him.

"Very good, Mr. Mansfield," Cesar said. "You have proved your worth."

Vic looked down at the plump mound of a man. He nearly sneered, but this wasn't over quite yet. "Thank you," was all he said. He noticed Nathan starting to unshackle Mac.

"Come join me for the rest of the night's activities. There's a fisting exercise I'm sure you'll enjoy." Cesar grabbed Vic's arm to pull him away, but the grasp was shaken off.

"I have to take care of my slave."

Cesar gave a short laugh. "Let your boy do that. There's a young man over here that would be perfect to relieve you of your obvious tension." he pointed to Vic's groin.

Vic fought hard to keep from attacking him. "I'd rather do it myself."

"He's just a slave, Mr. Mansfield. He's here for your enjoyment only. You can get another if this one wears out."

Now Vic did glare down at Cesar, who seemed oblivious to the fact that these young men were human beings. His anger nearly boiled over, and he prayed the Cleaners got to this prick before he did when the time came.

Vic softened the look on his face and gave a sly smile. He leaned down to the man's ear, fighting the bile rising in his throat. "I've paid a lot of money for this man, I'm not going to merely throw him away. Besides, I'm not finished with him, not by a long shot. But there are some techniques I reserve for my private play." Vic then straightened up and fought the urge to spit.

Cesar looked up at Vic, giving a broad smile. "I see, Mr. Mansfield," then actually giggled. "Should you need any sort of... assistance..."

"I'll handle it," Vic said curtly, disgusted by whatever this human pig was implying. He clipped the leash onto Mac's collar and led him away, Nathan trailing behind.

The three men got back to the room and just stood there looking at each other for the longest time. Vic and Mac then concentrated their gaze on each other while Nathan regarded the situation.

Vic turned toward Nathan and embraced him then reached toward Mac. He held them both, feeling the heat of their bodies against his. "What time is the Agency coming in?" he asked softly.

"Exactly fifty-three minutes," Nathan replied.

"Everything in order?"

"Yes, the security system will fail in fifty-two minutes and thirty seconds."

"Good."

They stepped back and looked at each other again. Then Vic walked toward Mac; he couldn't stand it any longer. He looked into the younger man's deep brown eyes as he reached out to caress his face.

"I could feel you," Mac said, his words hushed. "I could feel your emotions above the pain."

Vic was pleasantly surprised at that remark. He held Mac's head as he ran his thumb across red lips. "I could feel you, too." He hesitated for a second, but soon Victor pressed up against Mac. He teased the large lips with his tongue before slipping past and into the moist mouth.

Busily, they explored each other's mouths with their tongues and each other's bodies with their hands. Vic pressed his body up against Mac's hard body and harder cock, rubbing against the stiff member, white precome smearing the black leather of his pants.

Neither man noticed as Nathan lowered the lights and left the room.

Vic moved his hands around Mac's back and felt the heat of his wounds there. Mac flinched and Vic stepped back. "I'm sorry."

Mac shrugged, "It's... it's okay." He smiled. "It's not so bad."

"I've got some cream to put on those," Vic said as he turned toward the bathroom. He emerged a minute later with a small jar in his hand.

"Why don't you get on the bed?" Vic asked softly.

Mac spread out on his stomach and rested his head on his folded arms.

Vic sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots then stood and took off the leather pants, leaving him naked. He knelt on the bed, fingers trembling as he unscrewed the cap of the jar. He was incredibly nervous; it had been some time since he'd been this way with anyone, especially a man. Especially someone he genuinely cared for.

Momentarily frustrated, he threw the cap to the floor and dug his fingers in the thick herbal cream. Gently he spread it over Mac's shoulders where the individual lashmarks stood raised and red from the dark skin. The aroma of the herbal cream somehow heightened his arousal.

Carefully, he worked the cream into Mac's heated skin, ensuring to make this a pleasurable experience to contrast with the previously felt pain. Both men remembered to keep their voices low as they spoke to each other.

"I like this," Mac said.

"Good. I want you to like this."

"I meant what I said before," Mac paused to gasp as Vic rubbed a particularly sensitive spot. "I could feel your emotions."

"It's weird, but I did, too." Vic had reached Mac's ass and was caressing the round globes for a few minutes. He hesitated then dipped his fingers inside the crack. There was nothing to fear now, not after what they had shared. Not to mention the fact that Vic was deliberately naked and rubbing his hands all over Mac's body.

"I could feel your pain, Mac. Every blow."

Mac moaned and spread his legs as Vic gently rubbed the opening to his ass.

"Could you tell I liked it?"

"Yeah. I think I could."

"Because I never... I always said I'd never let anyone do that to me. But it actually felt so good. I

felt... I could feel your concentration and attention. And I kind of felt loved. I'd never felt that way before."

Victor didn't know what to say, except he had felt the exact same thing. It was obvious that neither man had known what he was missing since they had objected so vehemently.

"Mac," Vic's chest heaved with his words. "Mac, I want you so bad."

Mac moaned and wiggled his ass. "Yes. Please," he begged.

A shock ran through Vic at those words, even if he was ready and naked, considering he'd been shot down the last time he had tried anything.

"You sure?" Vic trembled at the thought of a negative answer.

"I've always wanted you, Victor. I always did but was too afraid. I didn't want to screw it up like I did with Li Ann."

"You wouldn't have screwed it up."

They remained as they were, Vic's thumb at Mac's entrance, teasing the opening, while Mac moved his hips, trying to push it inside.

"Victor?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Victor kicked himself mentally. 'Okay, Mansfield, it's time to quit doubting yourself. It's getting old.'

"Hey," Vic laughed and swatted Mac's hot ass, gaining a gasp from the younger man. "Who's the top here?" Mac only moaned as Vic dug his thumb into the soft, trembling hole.

Vic moved his thumb in and out of Mac's ass, stretching the opening wider and wider with every push. He wanted to explore the puckered heat with his tongue and fingers until Mac was left screaming and writhing under his touch, but time was of the essence, so Vic prepared him as well as he could.

He reached over to the well-stocked night table and grabbed a condom and tube of lube. As he tore the packet open and rolled the condom on his cock, he noticed Mac was looking back at him, a playful grin on his mouth.

Vic grabbed Mac into his arms and kissed him deeply before releasing him. "I want to face you, but your back can't take it."

"You're right."

Vic could hear a wistful tone in Mac's voice as he gathered Mac's hips in his hands and nudged his cock between the bright pink ass cheeks. There was a moment of resistance, but soon Vic's cock slid past the tight ring of muscle and inside. Both men moaned out loud as the unique feelings spread through their bodies.

Vic pushed once more, fully sheathing himself in Mac's slick heat. He bit his lip, and worried that it was going to be raw before this was over.

Steadying Mac, Vic brought them up to their knees, so their bodies were pressed together, front to back, the intense heat making each man sweat. Vic kissed Mac's neck as his hands wandered across the front of his body. Mac's hands covered his and together they explored his torso, tweaking hard nipples and caressing taut abs.

Mac began slowly moving his hips, leveraging himself up and down on Vic's cock. Vic reciprocated by moving his own hips, matching Mac stroke for stroke.

Vic's hands wandered down to Mac's cock again, his fingers tingling as they touched the hard, yet velvety flesh for the first time. He felt a drop of precome at the slit and ran his thumb across the head to spread it around. Then gripping the shaft tightly, he began to pet the stiff member, his hand moving in rhythm with their hips.

He slid his hand down further to Mac's balls, feeling the metal of the cock ring that held them tight in their sac. Vic moaned, now wanting the long cock in his mouth. He regretted not tasting the younger man before this began. Hopefully he'd have another opportunity in the near future.

Mac twisted his neck so Vic could kiss him long and slow, nibbling on the corner of his mouth and playing with his tongue until both men gasped for air. Soon, Vic released Mac's mouth with a sigh and started to increase his movements.

Mac's ass felt so good, so tight and slick and hot. Vic felt lost in the moment, like this could go on forever. Gunfire from outside jarred him out of his endorphin induced haze and he realized that they could not let this go on, as a matter of fact, they had to hurry.

Vic pushed Mac onto all fours and knelt behind him, his thrusts faster and stronger. He pumped into Mac, his cock hitting his joy spot hard, doing everything in his power to make him come first.

He knelt over Mac's back, his balls making a slapping sound against the tight ass. With a death grip on Mac's cock, Vic's hand worked as furiously as his hips, stroking and spreading the large amount of precome around.

"God, Victor," Mac moaned. "Feels so good. Can't hang on..."

"Come on, Mac. Come for me."

With a loud moan, Vic felt Mac's body spasm and shake under his. Long ropes of come shot out and landed on the comforter and floor then dribbled onto Vic's hand. Vic leaned back and came a few strokes later, the orgasm tearing through his body, feeling like it was going to split him in two.

Seeing stars, he collapsed to the side, still hard and still embedded in Mac, kissing the beads of sweat away from the back of his neck.

Outside an explosion rocked the air and jolted the two sweaty men clinging to each other.

Vic quickly disengaged himself from Mac and sat up in bed. "Dammit!" He was about to stand up when Mac pulled him back.

"Vic, that was incredible," Mac whispered against his mouth. "You made me feel so good." Vic melted against Mac and kissed him until another explosion tore them apart.

"We should go," Vic breathed, now not wanting to move at all.

"Yeah."

Another spray of gunfire was heard and Nathan burst into the room, dressed in a jumpsuit and kevlar vest. "The Director's looking for you!" he yelled as he threw the men their own suits and vests.

At the sound of the name 'Director', both men flew out of bed and rushed into the washroom. Vic stripped the condom from his rapidly deflating cock. The cock ring fell from Mac's lap and landed with a thud before it rolled across the carpet and under the wardrobe.

Hastily, they cleaned themselves up and got into their gear, Nathan handing them their firearms.

Vic and Mac looked at each other, and with one last kiss, went out and into the firefight.

By the time they got outside, however it was nearly over. The 'slaves' had been rounded up to be taken to the hospital for medical evaluation, then back to their homes and loved ones. The 'Masters' who had been so cruel to these men were being arrested.

Cesar gave up without a fight, dropping to his knees before Murphy and Camier. The two assassins had their weapons raised and were about to dole out justice, when the Director stopped them. Apparently, he was better to them alive than dead.

Vic looked at the man in the now filthy toga being held by two agents. He wanted to kill the man; he wanted to make him hurt for all the pain he'd caused others. He stalked up to him, fists clenching the handgrips of his guns, teeth bared, his fingers ready to pull the triggers.

"Victor!" He heard the Director warn, but he kept walking. He heard someone come up beside him, then his arm was grabbed. He tried to shake them off, but the person held fast.

Vic whirled around and found Mac behind him.

"Let it go, Vic. They'll deal with him."

"No." Vic fought hard to whirl around and empty his clip into Cesar's head.

"Vic, this isn't going to make things right."

"The way he treated you..." Vic broke off, emotion consuming him.

"We got him. It's done." Mac reached up and touched Vic's face. "It's over."

Vic breathed in and out loudly as he reluctantly let the man be dragged away. Mac put his arm around his shoulder as he watched the agents cuff and shackle the man then put him in the back of an armoured car. Only then did Vic let himself be led to the waiting helicopter. Vic put his arm around Mac's waist and gave him a squeeze before giving him a kiss on the cheek and climbing into the vehicle.

They strapped themselves in, and the machine rose up in the air, taking them away from this place, from this false Eden, this paradise gone awry. Vic squeezed Mac's hand and looked down at the carnage below. It was going to take a long time to forget this place and the experiences they'd had. But Vic was now confident that it would be all right, they'd get over it, and when they got home, they would create their own paradise together.

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