Don't... 04 Backlash (43 page)

Gray stayed
quiet for a while. A nod came, then—“Fine. But you stay here as
guests, as friends.” Only he didn’t sound very friendly with that
last one. With every part of his soul, as old as it felt, Trace
understood why. The one night Gray needed to hold them both, to
keep them close, and Gabe.... Trace glanced at Gabe and just hoped
to God he knew what he was doing.

Because this
was like taking a man’s husband on their wedding night.

Trace was right
to call this a studio. No hallmarks of a traditional BDSM dungeon
carried in the air, none that Gabe had worked anyway. The comfort
of a huge four-poster bed with a sleek black metal frame kept the
furthest part company. To the vanilla onlooker, the various
sculpted spheres aligning the top and foot of the bed looked purely
aesthetic. They wouldn’t take into account a pillory, where a wider
hole accompanied by two smaller ones were the perfect size for a
BDSM stock and perfect display of a sub, or that the metal frame
could easily be hooked up to chains and hoist. A black canopy hid
all of that out of sight. Discreet drawers could be seen at the
base, no doubt keeping to hand everything needed. By the wall, not
far from that, sat a glass case, displaying all colours, textures,
and lengths of rope. This wasn’t an amateur’s collection, and Gabe
ran his hand over the case, taken with a thin, deep blue rope. Gray
was trained in Japanese rope art; he knew that because the few
well-placed canvases caught on the studio walls had this blue rope
on the model. Instinct told him that model was Jack, so did the
deep tan and toned suppleness in body. It wasn’t just any studio;
it was Gray and Jack’s, solely for Gray and Jack.

Back behind
him, a white leather Tantra chair lacked a lover, and not far from
that, a bondage table, looking as discreet as the bed, tilted
slightly as if willing to scoop any passerby up and... play. Long,
built-in wardrobes with tracks along the ceiling leading away from
them suggested a more serious hoist-play, with a corner reserved
for photography equipment to capture it all and hold life still in
the moment.

Most dungeons
smelt of leather and sex, and all came with a level of creativity
defined purely by the Dom. Here, sex was down to a fine art called
out on the walls, and the scent was warm winter bursts that cried
out kicking through golden brown leaves, the stray deep red leaf
there to give it colour. If England could be defined by a scent,
this was it: a walk through many a forest just after rainfall, with
dust stirred but bringing nature’s fresh breath.

The photography
equipment caught his attention more, and he went over. A selection
of flash kits lined themselves against the wall, all rolled up and
stored away on a specifically designed rack. The tripod on the left
looked the most used out of the others, but the 2-ball head offered
great flexibility, usually with animals and nature, but easily
adapted to Japanese rope art. For those quick snapshots, a
point-and-shoot camera was left on standby on a coffee table. But
Gray’s selection of SLT cameras acknowledged how he preferred the
time it took to capture that perfect shot. No doubt a dark room
would be close by, and again Gabe knew Trace was right; he wouldn’t
have seen much daylight himself if he’d seen this studio first.

“You’ve got
those stars in your eyes.” Gabe turned, feeling arms wrap around
him. “Do I need to be worried?”

Gabe settled
into Dare’s hold. “About Jack?”

“The
cameras.”

“Oh well, now
that you mention it—”

He caught a jab
in the ribs and couldn’t stop laughing. “With what Gray’s paying, I
can update my whole collection a few times over.”

Dare seemed
distracted and Gabe caught his look over to Jack and Jan. They
stood close to the open door, heads together as Trace and Gray kept
low conversation by the bed. No doubt limits were being advised on
all parts. Jack already knew Gabe’s, and in the next few minutes,
Gabe would have a list of Jack’s.

“You won’t take
the money, will you?”

Gabe shifted to
look back at Dare, then rested back on Jack and Jan. He shook his
head.

“It could help
you upgrade your equipment like you’ve been wanting to do, but you
still won’t take the money Gray’s offered, will you?”

“No.”

Dare’s head
rested against his. “Have I told you just how much I love you?”

“I have a
feeling I’ll be making you say it again later, just for a
reminder.”

Jack’s gaze
rested on his and the smile he gave was so easy as he watched them
back.

“Those eyes of
his are a killer,” said Dare. “Gotta admit.”

“I thought you
preferred Jan’s?” He kept that light.

“
Yeah,
Jan’s different. His are more of that
friend for a lifetime
you want to protect. Jack’s... his say
he’d be up for a good fight in bed, but you’d have a bigger battle
keeping him there when the morning comes.”

“Maybe. But
Jan’s got a look that can out-fight Jack’s at times.”

“Yeah,” said
Dare quietly. “They really need to be left alone now. And I’m just
about ready for home too.”

Gabe nodded.
“Me too,” and he felt a touch under his jaw draw him in for two
tender kisses. One to mark worry, the other to say it would all
turn out right. Gabe thanked him for that, and he wanted to run
with it for a lifetime, but a cough disturbed them as Trace came
over.

“Do you know
how you’re gonna handle this, babydoll?”

Gabe frowned,
then glanced over at Jack. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He gave a
nod.

“Then keep the
scene moving, don’t allow Jack time to linger without sensation.”
Trace had done his own observations. “He has a previous history of
being very hardcore, but with things like pseudo-incest being a
firm no. He took serious injury during the rape. You already know
about the no-penetration, but for safety’s sake, watch for any
movement that might put any undue stress from the waist down. No
sounding. Jack loved it last time, but after the rape, he was put
through a retrograde urethragram to rule out injury, which suggests
that bastard Vince tried sounding. And for someone outside of the
lifestyle to try it....”

“I know.”

“Also take into
account martial art skill.”

“I know.”

“And watch for
dilation of the pupils. It’s an indication Martin’s making an
appearance. Gray—”

“Trace,” Gabe
said more gently. “I know.”

Trace searched
his eyes for a moment. “Then be careful, okay? Me and Gray are your
external safety too. You use Mercedes Benz if you’re triggered in
any way.”

“I will.”

“Then repeat
it.”

“Mercedes
Benz.”

A heavy sigh
was given from Trace as Gabe took Dare’s hand and pulled him over
to Jack and Jan. Gray was already there, and Gabe felt his every
move watched.

“Jan’s good to
go,” said Jack, gently, his voice quiet and professional as though
not to upset Gray, “but he’d like to ask if he can observe from
here, with the door kept open?”

Gabe smiled at
Jan. “You’re okay so long as you can see and hear what’s going
on?”

Jan nodded. “If
it’s okay with you?”

Gabe had worked
video streams with subs, so an audience wasn’t a problem, and if it
kept Jan sane, then he’d make it work.

“He’d also like
Dare close by.” Jack tapped at Dare’s arm. “He thinks Goliath will
just about be big enough to play bouncer if he gets triggered.”

“Me too,” said
Trace, and Jan raised a brow as Jack snorted.

“I’m not
wearing tights, in case you’re after an ogle.” He gave a big grin.
“First verbal clause in my contract.”

“Wuss,” said
Trace, already moving over and guiding Jan back to the door. Dare
followed. “The floor’s yours for the next hour or so, Gabe.”

“I’ll only need
a few minutes.”

Trace stopped
and looked back over his shoulder at the same time Jack looked up.
Ignoring them both, Gabe stepped up to Gray. “May I have your
permission to approach and touch your sub, Gray?”

Giving a frown,
a look that seemed intent on reading his soul, then ripping it out
for any thought that involved touching what was his, Gray
eventually nodded.

Jack got all of
Gabe’s attention. “The package I gave you, open it for me.”

As if
remembering it was there, Jack dug a hand into his jeans. “Fuck,
you meant for this to be handed over at the MC to be posted. I
didn’t get the chance.”

“It’s okay,
Jack,” Gabe said softly. “It was meant for you anyway.”

Jack screwed
his face as he turned the package over in his hands.

“Open it.”

He didn’t look
up, but did tear at the corner, then ran a finger inside to get the
top open. As he held his hand palm upwards to catch what came out,
Gabe placed his hand over Jack’s to cover what Jack now held.

“The last time
you were bound, what happened?”

Jack shrugged,
but there was grief there. “I blacked out. Split Gray’s lip,
bruised a few ribs, from what Jan told me... left Jan hiding his
head in his arms up against the wall in Gray’s bedroom.”

Gabe glanced at
Gray. “Was that the last time you asked your Dom to master
you?”

Jack shook his
head and black hair fell over his eyes, hiding them. “I demanded
his control.”

“You tried to
force him into controlling your disorder?” Gabe’s heart slipped a
little. “What has Gray just done, Jack?”

Such a
soft smile came up. “Claimed me.” A slight shift of head was given.
“Well, in a
not
gonna arrest your bollocks
kind of claimed way. Which is a definite step in the right
direction as far as our relationship goes.”

“Feel
good?”

Jack looked up.
“Real fucking peachy.”

Gabe removed
his hand and Jack ran a thumb over the set of handcuffs that slept
in the palm of his hand. He would have known what they were the
moment they touched his palm.

“Handcuffs,” he
said, distracted.

“Whose?” He
needed Jack to say it. “Who’s just Claimed you?”

“Gray.”

He nodded. “New
memories, new sensations,” Gabe said gently. “Jack, what have you
been holding while Gray marked and Claimed you? What have you been
holding while you held Jan and knelt there, making out at Gray’s
feet?”

Jack was left
looking down at the handcuffs, turning them over and running his
touch around and over the metal. Comfort was found, and when he
looked up at Gray, there wasn’t an ounce of fear there. “Part of
Gray,” he said gently.

Shifting past
Jack, Gabe slipped the cuffs out of his touch, in the same movement
making sure that Jack faced Gray. “Your Dom,” he whispered,
pressing in close to Jack from behind, “Eyes purely on him.” He let
a gentle breath play over Jack’s ear and felt the shiver.

A look over
Jack’s shoulder saw Gray holding whatever Jack offered him. As he
did, Gabe let his breath move down Jack’s throat. “Your Dom.” The
skin inches from his kiss was deeply tanned, smooth... leading to
shoulders that begged for binding. But Gabe didn’t touch.
“Submit.”

Jack eased down
to his knees, legs now slightly apart, eyes not losing focus, and
linked his hands behind his back. The moment he was settled, Gabe
ran his fingers through Jack’s hair, then gripped hard and forced
his head back onto his own hip, exposing Jack’s long throat.

Sweat lined the
offering, and keeping the movement light, Gabe ran the cool of the
handcuffs over Jack’s jaw, then down the curve of his throat.

Gray followed
every move.

“Every Master
has their preference on how they like their subs to submit fully.”
Gabe fisted Jack’s hair, roughing the touch and tilting Jack’s head
to the other side. The cool metal of the cuffs were dragged slowly
through the perspiration dampening the skin. “Show him how you
submit fully for him, Jack.”

Knees inched
further apart, Jack eased down, resting forehead to floor between
Gray’s feet. Gabe went down with him, tracing a touch over Jack’s
shoulder and down his side, all to rest on his slender hip. Hands
were still locked behind his back, body now almost flat to floor
and marking more a martial art flexibility and meditative
stance.

And breathing
was so calm and deep; Gabe felt the gentle rise and fall under the
touch on Jack’s hip as he knelt behind him.

“Beautiful,” he
said calmly. The sound of the handcuffs followed him as he drifted
them up over Jack’s ass, the loose fit of his jeans, up over the
small of his back. Coming to rest on top of Jack’s hands, Gabe left
them there and withdrew his own touch.

“Now submit
fully, Jack.”

Jack’s thumb
brushed the outer metal of one cuff. Gabe had left both open on
purpose, and for all his years of experience—Jack slipped one
around his wrist. The second curved Jack’s wrists, then—

Click.

Hands in cuffs,
Jack settled in perfected self-bondage at Gray’s feet.

Tilting his
head, Gabe followed the outline of Jack’s body, using a single
finger to trace the small of back up to his neck, then back down
again, coming to rest at the cuffs.

“Where do you
go to, Jack?” he said softly. “Who steals your thoughts now?”

A slight shift
came, a move of body into the floor that eased, maybe itched the
heat that Gabe could feel in the twist of muscle, no doubt of
cock.

“A Master,”
came the quiet reply. “Mine.”

No “my Sir”,
“My Dom”. Just... a Master. Mine.

“Back,” said
Gabe, his tug on the cuffs and a softer grip in Jack’s hair making
sure he found his knees again. He kept Jack’s head back, his look
now solely up on Gray again, and kissed gently, just once at the
curve of Jack’s throat. “Safety and submission are yours,” he
whispered in his ear. “Your MC Master trained you. Show him your
control, Jack.”