"You have got to be kidding. There is no way that Glendale is going to beat Portland tonight." Jim had just parked the truck, and was walking across the garage.

Trying to catch up with his partner, Blair stated, "I tell ya man, from what my cousin Robert told me, Portland's key player is questionable, and if he doesn't play, Portland is going down."

"Listen to me, Chief, it doesn't matter if Anderson plays tonight or not, the U of P team is older, and more experienced. All their starters are seniors, and 3 of them are all divisional. Glendale doesn't have a chance."

Blair studied his partner for a moment, then slowly grinned. "How about we bet on it."

Stepping into the elevator, and pushing the button for the seventh floor, Jim snorted. "With what Chief? You spent the last of your money fixing the Volvo."

The younger man thought of his response. "Okay, so we don't bet money. How about if I win, I don't have to do *any* housework for a week?"

Raising an eyebrow, the older man responded, "And if I win?"

"I do the housework."

"Oh that sounds like a winner to me. Correct me if I'm wrong here Chief, but you do most of the housework already, remember, instead of paying rent."

The quirk to Blair's mouth indicated that he already knew this. "Hum, I'm sure there's something that I have that you might be interested in." With his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, and looking at his feet, "I know," a crazy grin slowly covered the younger man's face, "I'll be your sex slave."

Expecting one of several responses, anywhere from laughter to anger, the response he got was a total surprise.

Jim looked at his friend, cocking an eyebrow in total disbelief, trying to judge what the kid was up to. Closely looking the younger man over, he curved the corners of his mouth down as he contemplated his next move. He listened to Blair's heart rate, noticing an increase in the normal, peaceful rhythm, but that was to be expected with what he had just proposed. But then the scent hit him. Blair was slightly aroused. Looking closer, he noticed the bulge in his partner's pants was becoming more defined.

Returning his gaze to the other's face, Jim nodded his head, and replied, "Okay, it's a bet." With that said, he left the elevator, and walked into the bullpen, leaving his partner gaping.

The day progressed as usual, and no mention of the bet was made. A case came in late in the afternoon that occupied their attention for most of the evening. When they climbed into the cab of the truck to head home, Jim turned on the radio.

"The final score, Portland: 84, Glendale: 60"

Blair looked over, but the detective showed no noticeable emotion.

The older man fiddled with the dial until he found a Santana tune playing, causing him to smile, while bobbing his head in time with the music.

"How about we grab something on the way home, maybe Chinese?"

Confused by his partner not gloating over his win, Blair nodded his agreement. "Sure Jim, that sounds fine."

"You coming into the station tomorrow?"

"Aah, no, I have office hours, and a couple of meetings that I can't avoid. But I should be home in time to fix dinner."

The older man pursed his mouth in thought, now tapping his fingers to the beat. "Well, that should be okay, I'll just work on paperwork, and do a couple of follow-ups to the MacMartin case."

Blair couldn't figure it out. It had been almost a week since Jim had won the bet, but he still hadn't said anything. Maybe his roommate was giving him an out, allowing him to save face. Or, maybe the younger man had read all the signs wrong, and Jim was avoiding him. But, he was so sure his roommate was interested in him, and just nervous about making the first move. It was the perfect set up. Blair knew he would lose the bet, and even if some miracle occurred, and Glendale did win, so would he. But, he had lost, and was waiting.

And it was killing him . . . the waiting.

He arrived home a little later than expected. Jim was fiddling in the kitchen, changing a light that had burned out.

"Hey Jim, how was your day?" Blair headed to his room so that he could take a shower.

"Busy today. We'll talk when you get out."

Blair continued to his room, dropping his stuff just inside the door. Then he saw his bed. Laid out was a pair of pants, if they could be called that. They looked like something out of an Errol Flynn movie, that a harem slave might wear. The material was similar to silk, and just as soft, the color a deep, rich, sapphire blue. There were slits up the sides, and the crotch was not stitched, but the material overlapped to give the appearance of being solid. The waist was of the same material, but black, as were the cuffs at the ankles. Accompanying the pants was a note: "Wear this and NOTHING else!"

Blair instantly became aroused and rushed to take his shower. After putting the pants on, he thought he would die. The feel of the fabric against his bare cock was almost more than he could stand. He viewed himself in the mirror, and decided that Jim wouldn't mind if he made a few adjustments, replacing the existing rings in his ears with rings made of silver, and adding another to his nipple.

When he emerged from his room, he was greatly disappointed. Jim was in the kitchen fixing dinner, dressed as he was when the younger man had arrived home, with only his shoes removed. Blair approached him expecting some reaction, but there was none.

"Hey Chief. Why don't you get the table set, and then come help me out here with the rest of dinner."

Ugh, the man was killing him, but he did as was commanded. The student efficiently set the table, and then joined his friend in the kitchen.

"I thought lasagna would be good, hope you don't mind."

"No, no, lasagna is fine. What do you want me to do."

The older man looked at him, then around at what had been done already. "Um, I haven't started the salad yet, so you can do that."

*Unbelievable!* Jim was showing no response, whatsoever. But Blair continued with the game, getting harder by the moment.

When dinner was ready, they sat down to eat.

"So, man, tell me about your day."

"Ahh, well, we got a break in the MacMartin case. Seems that one of the witnesses had seen more than he let on, and actually saw the genius commit the robbery. Even ID'd him in a line up. Case closed. Your day?"

"You know, the same old grind, give tests, grade papers, deal with bureaucracy. Nothing special." *Until I got home at least. What are you doing to me, Jim?*

As the meal continued, Jim kept up with their typical small talk, and Blair became more and more frustrated.

"That wasn't bad, if I do say so myself. Why don't you clean up here, and I think I'll go see what's on the news."

*Is this his idea of a sex slave - dress me up, and have me do the housework?* But the younger man again did as he was commanded, while the other flipped through the channels, making himself comfortable on the sofa.

After finishing with the dishes, Blair stood in the kitchen for a moment, calming himself down. It was now or never, because if he didn't do something soon, his raging hard on was going to explode. He turned off most of the lights, leaving the loft in a soft glow, then approached Jim, standing in front of him.

"I was watching the news." The older man had a slightly annoyed tone to his voice, but he was far from angry.

Blair took the remote, turned off the TV, placed it down on the table, leaned forward, and kissed Jim, hard. When he pulled back, Jim's eyes were smoldering.

"I didn't say you could kiss me, slave." Blair didn't think it was possible, but he actually became harder. The tone of Jim's voice was that of power, possession, and . . . lust.

The younger man stood before his partner, waiting for the next command.

"Go upstairs, and wait for me." The quality of Jim's voice indicated that there was no discussion in the matter, so he turned and headed for the room. He stopped when he heard the older man's voice, but did not turn around. "And Blair, your purpose as *my* sex slave is to pleasure me. You are not to touch yourself, or do anything to relieve your pressure. Remember, I can hear you, and if you disobey me, you will not enjoy the consequences." Blair nodded, then continued.

The trip up the stairs was painful, due to the erection. Once at the top of the stairs, he carefully lay down on the bed, hissing at the way the fabric of his pants glided over his over-stimulated penis. Lying there, he heard the slight hum of the TV and internally cursed the realization that the bastard had returned to the news.

After an agonizing long period of time later, Jim joined him upstairs, and just stood by the bed. Again, the waiting was pure torture. When he did speak, his voice was commanding, and incredibly husky. "Undress me."

If Blair had lost any of the hardness to his erection, it was instantly reestablished.

He carefully crawled off of the bed to stand before his master, for he had no doubt that was what Jim now was. He carefully reached up, and with shaky hands, unbuttoned the shirt. He slid the material off the muscled shoulders, and was ready to drop it on the floor when he saw the look Jim was giving him. He carefully folded the shirt, and laid it on the bed. He next untucked the undershirt, careful to avoid skin contact, at this point, and pulled it up over the other's arms, again folding the material, and laying it on the bed. The slacks were next. With quivering hands, he unbuttoned, then unzipped them, enjoying the feel of the hardness that was hidden beneath. After removing, and folding the pants, he removed the other man's socks. Jim now stood before him in only his boxers.

"What are you waiting for, I'm not totally undressed, yet."

Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, Blair worked at controlling his natural instincts to throw the man in front of him down on the floor, and fuck him silly. Then he remembered the words, "your purpose as *my* sex slave is to pleasure me, and if you disobey me, you will not enjoy the consequences." Steeling himself, he hooked his thumbs into Jim's waistband, ignoring the sensation created as his skin touched the other's hips, and gently pulled the elastic down, careful to not catch the protruding. As his hands pushed the material down, the back of his hands stroked the Sentinel, causing an electrical bolt to shoot through the young guide.

Once all the clothes were removed, the slave moved them to a chair, out of the way. He returned to stand in front of his master, enjoying the perfection of the man, and hungry to experience him.

"Now, there is a towel in the closet. Go get it, and lay it out on the bed." Again, Blair did as he was ordered.

Jim laid himself on the towel, careful of his own burgeoning erection. Blair stared at the sight before him, enjoying the ideas racing through his head. The Sentinel looked as if he was carved from alabaster, the way the moonlight careened off of his body, only so much softer, and pliable. The Guide's hands ached to grab hold of the perfect cheeks, spreading them apart, so that he could dive into the hidden pleasures. "Don't get any ideas, Chief. There's a bottle of oil in the drawer next to the bed. I want you to give me a massage."

Blair retrieved the bottle and climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over Jim's body, sitting on the strong thighs, nestling his erection in the crevice of the other man's ass checks. Unknown to Blair, Jim smiled at the slight rocking motions that the younger man had started. "Chief, stop that. I don't want you to come, yet."

Frustrated and embarrassed by his actions, Blair stilled himself, and began the task of rubbing down the man he had come to love.

Starting at the base of the skull, Blair's fingers began a gentle message, allowing his fingers to lovingly caress the skin. He moved to the shoulders, down the arms, and around the back. When he reached the fine ass, he tenderly rubbed the perfectly rounded mounds, pleased to hear the soft sigh the escaped his partner's mouth.

Occasionally he would begin to unconsciously rock his body, humping against the firm body beneath his, only to be scolded for the action.

*This is it, this is what Hell is like, if not Hell, then definitely what it's like to be held outside the Gates of Heaven.*

When he finished with the back, Blair moved to the side so that Jim could roll over, and he could begin his ministrations on the front.

Starting with the hands, the younger man worked up the other's arms, and then down the sculpted chest and stomach. When he reached the waist, he moved to the feet, and worked his way up the legs, until the only area left was the raging cock.

His own body aching for release, but having been scolded too many times, Blair stopped and looked into Jim's eyes, waiting for his next instruction.

"Suck me off, but don't come yourself."

Acting like a starving man faced with a feast, Blair took Jim hungrily into his mouth, circling the head with his lips, running his tongue over the leaking slit. Slowly, he lowered his mouth, taking the swollen organ down his throat.

Jim slowly turned his sense of touch up, and came, screaming Blair's name.

Sated, the Sentinel looked at his guide. Blair looked as if he was going to die at any moment. Reaching over, he slid his hand into the pants, grasping his slave's heated cock. "Cum for me, baby."

Blair came with such force, screaming his throat raw, then collapsed on his lover.

When he came to, he was curled in Jim's arms, tucked under the sheets.

"You know what I like best about this bet," Blair shook his head, "there was no time limit. You're mine, baby. My sex slave, for as long as I like. To do with as I please." Blair's eyes shot open, only to see Jim drift off to sleep, with a smile on his face.

The End

Notes: Well, this is for the pushy broad (also known to most as Pumpkin) for again being persistent, and telling me I had taken too long between stories. Also, I would like to thank Wanda for also being agressive <g>, and to my beta readers for the comments and corrections. But, if you find mistakes, and there are bound to be a couple, they are mine, all mine. Hope you guys enjoy this, and as always, comments are more than welcome.

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