Email address: pplesko@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 6 of "Rumors"
Pairings: Brian/OMC
Category: Angst, Drama
Rating: NC-17
Date: July 10, 2003
Summary: Brian's "training" takes on a new dimension as Hammer introduces him to the allure of danger.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Mild bondage
danger and play. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), German philosopher, “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”
It lay beyond the descriptive words of men—where immortality is touched through danger, where life meets death on equal plane; where man is more than man, and existence both supreme and valueless at the same time. Charles A Lindbergh , contemplating his first parachute jump, “The Spirit of St Louis”
I held onto the waistband of his leather jacket as we sped through the darkness, trying not to clutch him too tightly as if I were afraid of falling off….although the desire to hold him close was powerful, too. I had missed his blatant manliness for the last six days…but suddenly there we were, hurtling through the dark tunnel of overhanging trees so quickly that they were a blur…the oncoming rush of pavement and trees, like sinking into a whirlpool…headed to another night together. My cock hardened and I eased closer to him on the seat to press it against his back. My arms crossed his belly. My chin touched his shoulder. He was practically carrying me on his back like a wounded comrade. I wanted him to feel it, too. He pressed the accelerator and slipped back two inches on the seat…he met my pressure with his own.
“Where have you been?” I asked when we were indoors. “No one knew where you went.”
“That’s because I never tell anyone,” he replied, baring his chest as he removed the leather jacket. “None of their damned business.”
“Well, I missed you,” I said, attempting to make it MY business, just a little.
He stopped in the middle of removing his boots, then looked up at me. “Sometimes I just leave to take my mind off things,” he said. “I use sex as a distraction…or maybe I use different situations as excuses for a sex-marathon. I’m not sure which comes first.” He pulled off the second boot. “I went to Pittsburgh…”
“I’m from Pittsburgh,” I said. “But I really wasn’t ‘in-the-scene’ when I was in high school. I wouldn’t have a clue about where to go.”
“You’ll learn all of these places,” he said, counting them off on his fingers. “..the Garden Theater…Club Pittsburgh, the baths…Boulevard Video, hot and cruisy…The Eagle, where I spent most of my time…and there’s always the motorcycle clubs…and Liberty Avenue. If one place isn’t hot enough, you just go somewhere else…make the rounds. I usually rent a room for the first night, just in-case, then I cruise around until I find someone to go home with…a single guy or a couple. Sometimes a new guy every night… sometimes I do ‘repeats’ if he’s got a nice place. Sometime I go for just a few days…my record is 17.”
“Wow! Altoona can never compete with that,” I said. “Nothing like that here.”
“The reason I left in the first place…and the reason I came back, is about to climb into my bed,” he said as I folded my jeans and dropped them in the corner. His hand against my naked ass moved me in the direction of the bedroom. The bed was unmade. It looked just as we had left it last weekend. He saw me noticing the dishevelment.
“I didn’t stop back here to straighten-up,” he said, stretching out on the bed. “I came directly to Rumors to get you. A hundred miles on back-roads in a little over 2 hours…that’s how much I wanted you. I’m a little hot and dusty…but you’ll get used to it.” He picked-up his cock in his palm and stroked it a few times as I stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the man who was waiting for me.
Six-feet-two...the same height as I...but different from my post-adolescent body. Lee had been a boy, only 3 years older that myself...an athlete in the perfection of his sport, but still with the gangly-ness of his age. John had been a mature adult, but he hadn’t had the time to devote to fitness and musculature. He was fit-for-his-age...but not a glorious specimen of manhood. Which brought me to Hammer. Hammer worked all day in hard, physical labor...and then worked-out all night. The ‘guest-room’ next to the bedroom, which still contained some of Nicky’s things, I learned, was the exercise room...and he had honed his body to the peak-of-perfection for someone five years his junior. A strong, vertically-ridged neck supported a head on broad, exaggerated shoulders...the sharp clavicular-ridges marked the beginning of pecs like slabs of rump-roast. His abs cascaded over four muscular ridges defined on the sides by sharp obliques. His thighs welled with power and he had the inward slant necessary for powerful penetration. Sharp shins spread to bulging calves; muscular ankles led to long, broad feet. He was masculinity drawn like an anatomical drawing.
“Hand me the black bag,” he said. “I brought something for you…for us.”
He had dropped the canvas duffel bag at the foot of the bed, so I retrieved it and tossed it next to him on the bed.
“My ‘bag o’ tricks,’” he grinned. “All I need when I travel.” He pulled out a foil-wrapped roll and, after a moment, extracted an unusually fat joint. “Good blow,” he said, shaking his head. “Peace weed, chips, supergrass, wack…the good stuff laced with PCP. Let’s fire up…get on.” I crawled onto the bed beside him. I’d used grass before; with John, it had been only the best quality. Regular pot made me horny. What would this do? He took a long toak and held it…then passed it to me as he exhaled slowly. “God, that’s good. You feel it after three seconds.”
Less than that, actually. It went straight to my head…and I saw a shower of sparks that lit-up the interiors of my eyeballs. We passed it back and forth…the moisture where his lips had touched it…the scorching heat as I inhaled…the sinking feeling as I waited for the cumulative effect…the exhilaration of trying something new…the gradual lessening of my caution.
“Too light in here,” he said, shading his eyes from the overhead bulb. He rolled off the bed, hit the light switch, stepped into the hallways, turned on the bathroom light, then pulled the bedroom door almost closed so that the sliver of light hit the far wall. He settled back onto the bed and reached for my thigh, pulling me against him. I rolled onto his chest ready to exhale my most recent toak, but he covered my mouth with his and slowly inhaled the smoke from my lungs. The delay made the hit all that more potent and I returned his kiss with all the pent-up urgency I was feeling.
“My boy has missed me,” he said when we finally broke the kiss.
I started to ask him why he left…he said I was the reason…but I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to fuck hard.
He rolled me higher onto his chest and held me between his two large biceps as his hands massaged the orbs of my ass. I ground my groin against his as we gyrated together. His fingers spread my crack and began working their way into my hole from both sides. I arched my back and shoved my hand between us in an attempt to grip his cock. We wrestled momentarily as each tried to further arouse the other. Releasing me suddenly, he reached between us and gripped my wrist, pulling my hand up and out, then pinning my arm behind my back. “I know what you need,” he growled. He rolled quickly, putting me on the bottom with my arm trapped behind my back. With his other hand he reached for the black bag. His face descended to mine, nose-to-nose. “I knew you were a Top the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said. “...self-assured, taking the initiative. Smart-assed kid. But to be a great Top...the kind that guys stand in-line for...you need to be an experienced bottom first. You earn it. You learn it...from the bottom-up, so to speak.” He rolled off of me then and held up a pair of leather cuffs. “These are for you,” he continued. “One thing you need to learn is to lie back and enjoy it sometimes, instead of feeling you have to be in constant control. Hell, even as a bottom, you’re trying to run the show. Put ‘em on.”
I hesitated. The allure of danger was strong. The temptation to please him was powerful. Losing control, mentally, was one thing; losing physical control was another. He was strong enough to take me in a fair fight. With my wrists in cuffs, I’d be at a serious disadvantage.
“You trust me?” he asked, dangling the cuffs.
“Yes,” I said slowly. “Almost totally...but I’ve heard stories of guys who went home with other guys and were never heard from again...and I have this image of you eating my liver...” I smiled, weakly, remembering that picture of muscular Prometheus chained to the rock with the eagle tearing out his liver...the eroticism of Greek mythology. Before my eyes, the eagle transformed into the hunched, naked body of Hammer kneeling over me.
“If I wanted to do that, you’d be in-pieces by now,” he said matter-of-factly. I could have slipped you something in a drink...or in that joint...or shoved a needle in your ass when you weren’t looking... If someone wants to do it, there’s almost no way to stop him. But it’s not your liver I want...it’s your total attention, focused on the pleasure I can give you...not you being distracted by thinking of the next thing to do to me. Hell,... you get two guys like us together and we end-up battling for control. Sometimes it’s just good to give up control and enjoy it.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I admitted.
“And I’m not sayin’ I want a guy to always lie there like a dead body, doing nothing. That’s no fun, either. But I love it when a guy wants to respond, but can’t. That pent-up energy is like pouring gasoline on a campfire.”
The cuffs were separate, black leather cuffs lined with softer leather ...about three inches wide. Each had a strap and buckle, and a metal ring ...and one of those ring had a clip attached with a lockable dog-clip on each end. They could be linked together...or connected easily to other restraints. They were sturdy...no-nonsense...fully capable of constraint. They smelled of leather and saddle soap.
“If it’ll make you feel a little safer, you can do it to me first,” he said, wrapping one of the leather cuffs around his wrist. “Here...buckle it on.” I did...and put the second one on his other wrist. “Nothing fancy...just wrists...no ankles...no fancy rope-work. That shit just gets in the way. Just remember...whatever you do to me, I reserve the right to do it to you...double.” He grinned in the darkness. My mind was racing with ideas. I remembered the times he had driven me to the edge of madness with the pleasure he inflicted... and this was my chance to repay the pleasure, ...but with the promise of something even more intense in the future. Truthfully, I couldn’t imagine it.
I wasn’t sure what to do. To have complete control over Hammer…to do anything to him I wanted…and to try-out some of the things he’d taught me…it was a dream come true. But the responsibility was daunting. I could easily make a fool of myself.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “You can cuff me first. I trust you.” The allure of danger…of the unknown…of his implied threat of unendurable pleasure…I couldn’t focus until I’d experienced it.
Silently and quickly, he unbuckled the cuffs and transferred them to my wrists. He pressed me onto my back with his palm on my chest,… then he straddled my waist. Working quickly, he stretched each arm to the sides and clipped the cuffs to short chains which were attached to the side rails of the bed near the headboard. My arms were stretched tightly to the sides, making my pecs harden as I looked up at him. He smiled at his handy-work, then bent down to grasp my right nipple in his front teeth. The sensation took my breath away as my cock hardened into a stiff pole.
“And now I’ve got you where I want you,” he said softly. “And here’s the organ I’m interested in,” he said reaching beneath him for my cock, “…not your liver.” He stroked it softly between his fingers, twisting the still-spongy head gently. “Before I’m through with you, you’ll beg me to stop…and I won’t. I want you to remember this moment…whenever you’re ready to fuck some nameless guy in the future. Remember how it feels to want it so badly you’d do anything to get it. I want you to see MY face looking down at you.”
He reached out of my field-of-vision and returned with a short chain…a leash…which he clipped to the collar that was still around my neck. “I want you to be able to see this,” he added. He pulled the chain and it lifted my head off the mattress. His cock swayed threateningly…a dark shadow casting another shadow on my belly. He wrapped the chain around his fist. There was no mistaking who was in-charge. “Ready for the roller coaster ride?” he said, giving the chain a snap.
I started to speak…started to tell him I wanted him. But his other hand covered my mouth. “No talking,” he said. “Just begging…later on. If you start trying to direct the show, I’ll have to gag you…but then I’d miss all those cute noises you’re gonna make.” His hand slipped to my throat, then down over my chest…fingers burning trails over my hot skin, tracing the valley between my pecs. “Let’s see…where to begin…”
I felt his body shift over me. He was kneeling between my spread legs, forcing them wider with his knees.
I felt his breath on my cock before his lips reached the flared head. His hands grasped the muscles of my thighs as he took it deep into his throat. The saliva dribbled onto the root of my shaft and spread over my balls like warm oil. He began to swallow… massaging the head with his throat muscles, pulling it deeper and deeper by millimeters. His tongue pressed along my urethra, flattening it against the hard core of my shaft, pulsing with blood. He tightened his grip on my thighs, holding me down on the bed as my body gave the first involuntary convulsion of arousal. My hands closed into fists that pulled against the unyielding cuffs. I wanted to grab his head and jackknife deeper into him…but the bondage held me back. My muscles strained against their confinement. My forehead was immediately damp with sweat. So quickly…and this was only the beginning!
“MMMMMmmmmmmm…” His soft moan vibrated against the most sensitive spot on my cock-tip like a mild electrical current.
His hands moved up my body, exploring the hills and valleys of my abs…the well of my navel…the highlands of my pecs heaving with each breath. Fingers tightened over my erect nipples…then squeezed and twisted. My body bucked from the stimulation…mild pain that only magnified the pleasure of my cock. He lifted them using his nails…and let the soft nips slip ever-so-slowly through the tight pinch until only the tiniest bit was ground between sharp nails. I went through the roof then, I think.
The gentle swallowing on my cock changed to sharp up-and-down suction. Releasing my nipples, he grasped the chain again and pulled my head up from the mattress. My shaft slid slowly in and out of his tight lips as his eyes looked up to judge the degree of my pleasure. I could detect the slightest smile of satisfaction around my engorged dick as his eyes sparkled in triumph.
I remember his hand clamping around the base of my cock with most of my ball-sac included. He pumped in rhythm with his mouth action.
That feeling began deep inside…the urgency…the inevitability…the creeping heat, like melting wax. Reaching the point-of-no-return.
His mouth pulled off of me, then, with an audible smack. And his hand replaced it, jacking me rapidly for five strokes…then subsiding into a slow rocking motion. “Not so fast, boy,” he said. “You don’t get off so easy.”
I started to reply, then remembered I wasn’t supposed to speak. At least I had some degree of control left.
The urgency subsided. I relaxed into the slow rhythm of his hand action. His other hand stroked my hip and side, rocking me gently.
Just as I was coming down from the peak, he started again…hard sucking that made my eyes open wide…a resumption of the urgency…a return of the inevitability. I wanted to touch him…to run my fingers through his hair…to feel the hardness of his muscle beneath hot skin… to spread the sweat of his forehead onto his chest. But I couldn’t. My hands jerked in the cuffs; my fingers mimicked the motion they could not accomplish.
His mouth jerked my attention back to my cock. The tight lips…the hard suction…the dripping saliva. Then he lifted my head again to watch his mouth minister to my super-sensitive shaft. He was loving this as much as I was.
As my senses mounted the summit again, he pulled away. “Now that I’ve got it all nice and juicy, let me show you where it goes,” he growled. I felt his weight shift around me as he repositioned himself. His ankles brushed my waist as he squatted over me. The heat of his hole was the first sensation…then the tightness…then the depth. He settled onto me…farther and farther, balancing himself with one hand on my chest and the other on my thigh…not stopping until his full weight rested on my groin and my shaft was imbedded full depth. He leaned back, now with both hands on my knees, taking the proper angle for even deeper penetration. Waves of muscular action began to swirl around my cock. “I’d love to take you all the way this way,” he muttered, “but I still have more plans. But, God!…you feel so good!”
He began to bounce on me…each impact sending a jolt through my interior…shock waves against my prostate…soft abrasion against my cock-tip. My toes curled in response. I couldn’t move…pinned-down and cuffed-down…my whole awareness focused on the nine inches of phallus stuffed into eight inches of hot ass.
He changed position then…leaning forward to kiss me between his spread legs…eating my mouth like an over-ripe mango…his hands stroking the concavity of my pits and the undersides of my arms as he rocked slowly forward and back, pumping on my cock. My skin felt suddenly cool against his warm touch. The heat of my body was concentrated in only one area. I had stopped struggling despite the continuing tenseness of my muscles. Subconsciously I was still trying to please him...not with a touch or a caress...but with the visual image of my body offered to him. It was all I could give him.
I felt him tighten then...as if he had read my mind and realized that I was still not focusing entirely on the pleasure. And quickly he drove me to the edge. I remember moaning then...begging him to let me cum...then begging him to continue forever. My mind was being pulled apart just as my arms were...and it was just as useless.
I remember him pulling off of me abruptly and scrambling to release the cuffs from the chains. “Roll onto your belly,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s your turn.” I thought he meant that it was my turn to cuff him...but that wasn’t what he meant. Instead, he roughly pulled my arms behind my back and re-connected the cuffs to each other. He pressed my knees apart with his and lifted my groin off the bed. I turned my face to the side to avoid suffocating in the jumble of bed-clothes.
His fingers opened me up...first one, then two, then three...lubed with something that seemed to make my ass the center of the Universe. Plunging, twisting fingers...preparing me. And then the blunt, stretching warmth of his cock-head...I opened to it...I wanted it...I rocked back to meet him. “Fuck me,” I murmured into the sheet. The collar tightened around my throat as he pulled on the least once more, arching my body into an S-curve...head back with mouth open, gasping for breath...chest hard against the mattress...elbows out and hands pressed against the lower curvature of my back....ass in the air...knees dug-in for support. I roared then as he impaled me...feeling it stretch the folds of my rectum and rearrange my internal organs from the impact.
He lay across my back as I supported his weight...finally taking his pleasure. My hands could finally touch his belly. A tightness around my cock...his fist driven-in from the side...jacking me as if he were pumping his own cock...double-rhythm to his penetrations of my ass.
I blacked-out, then, as I shot my load all over the bed-clothes. The convulsions tightened every muscle as I clamped-down on the only part of his body that mattered to me at that moment. My last memory was his voice shouting my name in my ear.
…………………….
My eyelids fluttered open; his face filled my field of vision. I was on my back, wrists still cuffed and now trapped under the small of my back. His fingers brushed the hair out of my eyes. Every muscle was relaxed…my cock lay soft against my inner thigh. He smiled.
“Do you understand now?” he said softly. His fingertips traced the ridges of my arched belly softly and tenderly, then moved lower into the bush of my pubic hair.
I tried to formulate a response, but the words just weren’t coming. All I could do was to gazed up at his face awaiting his next words.
He was like a dark angel walking amidst mankind. His glance could arouse …or punish. His words could elevate…or destroy. His touch could electrify. He gave men something that changed them forever…a thankfulness for being chosen…an urge to test their limits and to explore the dark, outer boundaries…a compulsion to re-enact or re-create the moment they could never forget…an experience etched into their consciousness like a brand on their foreheads…an addiction stronger than any drug’s. He was the personification of eroticism. And he could not be owned….an unattainable treasure…the impossible erotic dream.
“Such beauty,” he said, stroking his fingers across my chest and down the valley between my pecs.
I stirred, finally…attempting to remind him that my wrists were still cuffed. He smiled as my pecs and deltoids tightened, but he did not release me immediately. He wanted me to re-live those few moments of indescribable rapture. At that moment I knew I was different. Different from the curious, almost-timid boy who had crossed the threshold of Rumors. There was no going back. I felt empowered… energized… selected….almost like a priest after ordination.
…………………..
“Roll over,” he said, giving my shoulder a shove. He unbuckled the cuffs and tossed them under the bed. “For next time,” he said. I massaged my wrists and clenched my fingers. “And now, sleep,” he said throwing his arm over me and pulling me close. “Right here…with me.”
My hand, finally free, reached back to stroke the outer margin of his hip…to leave the sensation of his skin on my fingertips as I slipped back into unconsciousness. The sadness in his eyes had told me there would not be a “next-time.”
* *
Pleasure cannot be shared; like Pain, it can only be experienced or inflicted, and when we give pleasure to our Lovers, we do so, not to gratify the object of our Benevolence, but only ourselves. For the Truth is that we are kind for the same reason as we are cruel, in order that we may enhance the sense of our own Power.
Aldous Huxley (1894–1963), British novelist. The Fifth Earl of Gonister, in After Many a Summer Dies the Swan, pt. II, ch. 4 (1939).