This story is the third in a series. The first story is Bound to the Law, which is in the Classics section. The second story is Bound to the Law II: Pierced by Circumstance in Late Models. Comments on this story can be sent to: Dawnrca@earthlink.net
The first butt plug was inserted even before Starsky got out of bed in the morning. It was so slender he hardly felt it go in and wasn't even sure he could stand up without it falling out. Hutch suggested he try walking around with it on to get accustomed to the unnatural feel of something in his anus.
Clenching his muscles, Starsky got gingerly off the bed, standing carefully. "It's gonna fall out."
"You're not supposed to let that happen."
"Easy for you to say," Starsky grumbled, but walked slowly into the hall with tightly controlled steps. He wandered down the corridor, noticing a door he hadn't seen the night before. Intrigued enough to momentarily forget about the butt plug, Starsky tried to turn the knob but it was locked. "What's behind door number one?"
"You sure you want to go in there?" Hutch asked with an odd tone in his voice.
"Why?" Starsky asked, his curiosity even more piqued now. "Norman Bates left his mummified mommy behind?"
"See for yourself," Hutch shrugged. He reached up above the doorframe, retrieving a key that was hidden there.
"Your influence must be rubbing off on the owner," Starsky observed dryly and received a raised eyebrow and a stiff fingered warning from his master. He pretended to look chastised, but in reality was brimming with exuberance. Somehow the day seemed to hold a multitude of possibilities all of which he wanted to discover.
With a little flourish, Hutch unlocked the mystery door and pushed it open. The scent of leather and past assignations wafted out. Starsky's heart sped up, vibrating his chest as he walked in. At the last moment, he remembered to clench his butt muscles tightly, but it was too late. Just as the room's contents were assaulting his senses, he heard a soft plop on the ground behind him.
"Oops." Starsky turned around to stare at the butt plug lying innocuously on the floor behind him, wondering how many demerits he'd just earned and would trying to explain make things worse?
"Well, you did say it wouldn't stay in." Hutch couldn't help the chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest. He bent to pick it up, the laughter spilling out until he was helpless to stop it. And as often is the case, laughter's contiguousness infected Starsky too until both of them were giggling, arms thrown around each other to keep themselves upright.
"I'll go get the medium-sized one while you look around," Hutch wiped his eyes, "little one." He grinned at the now somewhat inappropriate nickname.
"You're gonna leave me here?" Starsky squeaked.
"Don't you want to see what they've got?"
"Uh--yeah." Starsky glanced around the well-stocked 'dungeon' with an uncertain smile. "I just didn't think you would..."
"Don't touch anything," Hutch said placidly, going back down the hall.
As if he even wanted to. Starsky tucked his hands behind his back, unconsciously placing them in the exact position they'd be if the cuffs he was wearing were clipped together. Everything he saw was designed for pain, erotic torture, or at least to restrain the wearer so he or she couldn't fight when something was done to them. Half of him wanted to make a made dash out the door and yet, the other half of him wanted Hutch to take some of the wicked toys down and use them--on Starsky.
There was a rack like he'd seen in horror movies, a strange contraption hanging from the ceiling consisting of a head sized cage and a series of straps for securing the prisoner and other oddities that had probably been used during the Spanish inquisition. Every sized whip, crop, flogger and cane were displayed with a whipping block and an old fashioned pillory near by. In one glass-fronted case were dozens of collars, cuffs and leashes. Also regulation police hand cuffs, full coverage leather masks and spreader bars of every length. Somehow, since most of those things had already been used on him, they didn't spike his adrenaline as much as some of the larger pieces of furniture had. And Starsky examined the case's contents carefully. On a shelf below the cuffs were nipple clamps and gags. He was still staring at the red rubber ball with a leather band threaded through the middle when Hutch returned. Starsky reacted like he'd had an electric shock, jumping back from the shelves of bondage equipment.
"See anything you like?"
"Like isn't exactly the word, but it makes me...want to experiment," Starsky admitted.
"Anything in particular?"
Starsky glanced back at the case, his mouth dry, imagining something rammed between his teeth, preventing him from speaking while Hutch did something out of sight behind him. Hutch would be wearing his leather pants and leather gloves, rubbing the smooth calfskin along Starsky's naked skin.
"A gag?" Hutch asked softly. "I thought you didn't want that?"
"And you did?" Starsky didn't mean for his voice to rise up like that at the end, making it a question.
"I'm not pushing the issue." Hutch held up the medium-sized plug. "But I want to be pushing this inside of you. Lean over."
Starsky nodded; not so concerned with the concept as he had been the night before. The little one hadn't even been noticeable, so how much worse could this one be? With only mild trepidation, he braced himself against the edge of an ebony black table studded with 'D' rings and leather cuffs at regular intervals and leaned over, his ass pushed out for Hutch's use.
"Since you had some trouble keeping the first one in, I'll have to chain this one," Hutch said conversationally, rubbing some lube onto the rubber toy. Starsky watched over his shoulder, suddenly much more nervous.
"What if I have to use the john?"
"Tell me. And if we keep doing this regularly, I'll have to start giving you enemas. For sure before I actually start fisting you. For now, as long as you're clean..."
Okay, that got his attention. Enemas. The 'f' word again. Starsky took a shaky breath when he felt Hutch's fingers dig into the meat of his buttocks, widening the puckered opening. The plug slipped in without trouble, staying in place easily with the tight seal of the sphincter muscle. This was not so bad, Starsky caught himself thinking until he straightened up, gasping. While not quite as big as Hutch's actual mass, the anal plug felt alien, hard, and unyielding. And he'd never actually done much movement when Hutch was riding him hard, except the squirming and thrusting usual to sexual encounters. This was entirely different.
"I dunno if..." Starsky began, holding on tightly to the torture table, risking a look into Hutch's inquiring eyes.
"You don't have any choice in the matter," Hutch said matter-of-factly. "Now turn around so I can fasten the chain."
Starsky took hesitant steps, feeling the awful thing shift slightly inside him. It made his servitude all the more real. There wasn't anything he could do about it; that was the beauty of the whole thing. He didn't have to make choices, he didn't have to think, he only had to react and obey. Even if he wasn't too thrilled with the outcome, as long as his master was happy, the slave was happy.
Hutch fiddled with a slender gold chain, hooking it to the plug in the back and running two halves of the chain up and over Starsky's hip bones before slipping a gold cock ring into place and clipping the chains on either side. Then he reached underneath, running his hands sensually along Starsky's inner groin and testicles, grabbing two more chains still attached to the butt plug and pulling them tautly between his legs so they rubbed against the perineum. These chains were also attached to the cock ring, leaving Starsky's genitals imprisoned and completely off limits to him.
"God, that looks pretty," Hutch sighed when he'd finished. "I'd like to see you like this every day, but it would spoil the specialness. How does it feel?"
Surprised at the question, Starsky shifted his weight, trying to get accustomed to the feel of something rammed up inside him and then locked into place. It didn't really hurt, he realized with amazement. It didn't really feel good, but it wasn't bad either. There was no pain. He was just incredibly aware of his lower half in a way he'd never been before. Every movement, every second brought his mind down to his chained dick and plugged anus. He almost wanted to be completely restrained so he wouldn't...couldn't try to dislodge any of the items. He wanted complete and utter submission, to surrender to the loss of control and drink it into his pores, become one with his role as slave. It was total captivity and total freedom at the same time, but to voice that wish aloud was terrifying. "I don't think I can sit down," he said instead.
"That's okay. You can kneel during breakfast and afterwards we'll walk around the grounds a little. It looks like it's gonna be a gorgeous day," Hutch said cheerily, leading the way out of the dark walled room.
How he knew that, Starsky wasn't sure, since the dungeon had no windows. In fact, he was willing to bet it was soundproofed and that the leather lined walls were slightly padded for extra safety. But, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be in there with the doors shut. While it was scary and exciting enough to be trussed up like a hero of a melodrama in a normal living room, it was quite another thing to be worked over in a place like this. And suddenly, that was all Starsky wanted. The yearning to be bound and alone in the dungeon welled up inside of him like nothing had in a long time, maybe forever. But how could he ask Hutch about it without sounding like he was trying to top from the bottom? He wanted it all, total, complete sensory deprivation.
Walking down the stairs was his first lesson in Butt Plugs 101. Every time Starsky put his foot down on the riser below, the plug seemed to rotate inside him causing little burns of pain along his abused inner walls. He was sincerely glad to attain the flat, even floor of the main room and padded into the kitchen, his muscles clenching tightly against the intruder. This was going to be a long morning, especially when he remembered with a jolt that this was only the medium-sized plug. He wondered if the three bears had had anything like this and gave a little laugh.
"What are you thinking about?" Hutch got out bowls and spoons for the fruit salad he'd brought with them.
"The three bears--the first one was too small, the second was too hard and the third one was too big, or something like that. It's been a long time since I read the story."
Starsky stole a piece of pineapple, popping it into his mouth. "I guess that makes you Goldilocks."
"I think I'm the big bad wolf." Hutch pinched hard on Starsky's left nipple. "No eating until I say so."
"Wrong story, isn't that Red Riding Hood?" Starsky smiled even with Hutch's fingers still gripping his nipple so tightly he could feel the line of pain up to his collarbone.
"You don't have a hood." Hutch left off the nipple, to Starsky's relief, and wrapped his forefinger and thumb around the circumcised end of his lover's penis. "So that must make you one of the three little pigs." He tightened the circle of his fingers until Starsky was shuddering with need, then released him.
"Huh?" He didn't want to bring up the whole Jews don't eat or be pork issue.
"Cause I'll huff, and I'll puff and I'll blow your cock in." Hutch laughed, washing his hands.
"You don't remember those stories any better than I do. How long do I have to keep this in?" Starsky asked, carrying the food over to the table.
"Half hour, give or take." Hutch shrugged, dishing out the fruit and some blueberry muffins. "Depends on my mood."
"And mine," Starsky guessed astutely, knowing that if he complained much it would probably stay in longer.
"You catch on quick." Hutch pointed to the floor. "Kneel down for breakfast."
The after-meal walk in the nearby woods was strangely calming, even though by Starsky's reckoning, the plug had now been in for considerably longer than 30 minutes. He'd been allowed silky jogging shorts, a sweatshirt and shoes for out of doors and walked holding Hutch's hand, in awe of the astonishing flora around them. Tall eucalyptus trees grew within inches of oak, beech, pine and maple in a glorious riot of intermingled vegetation, which by rights shouldn't be sharing the same soil. Above them, in the trees were not only the vivid blue and red parrots and strikingly beautiful greens and teals of the peacocks, but ethereal white cockatoos and bright flashes of carmine cardinals. Around every turn there seemed to be new delights and imaginative touches to the landscape. They discovered a 'secret' waterfall with a small mermaid statue curved on a rock staring at the falling water, similar but not quite the same as the more famous mermaid in Copenhagen.
A small outcropping of rock made it possible to walk under the waterfall without getting wet. Hutch held out his hand, steadying Starsky on the slippery rocks until they were hidden by a sheet of falling water. Placing his hands on either side of his love's face, Hutch swooped in for a kiss, both of them savoring the clandestine encounter.
"You've been so good this morning, Starsky; do you like this kind of thing? Talk to me."
"I didn't think I would...having this thing up my ass is different from being tied up, but it...makes me want to try everything in that room upstairs." Starsky could feel the tight stretch of the gold chain over his perineum scraping his nerves to fine threads. He was aroused all the time and with the cock ring in place, his erection was becoming distinctly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, his anal muscles contracted continuously, as if his body was unable to decide whether to push the thing out or pull it deeper inside.
"Everything?" Hutch laughed, nuzzling his shoulder.
"Okay, maybe not everything, but...can I make a request?" Starsky was turning into champagne with the tiny strokes of Hutch's tongue. Little bubbles tickled and burst around him, sending delicious shivers up his back. Hutch hauled the sweatshirt over his head, leaving Starsky naked except for the tiny blue shorts and began to work with interest on his chest, pushing him up against the damp mossy rock under the overhang of the waterfall.
"I'm listening," Hutch murmured, still licking and kissing every inch of his slave's sweet skin.
"When you use the...bigger plug..." Starsky had a hard time forming words, his knees turning to jelly. He grabbed onto the tails of the leather jacket Hutch wore, to hold himself upright. The rock was cold against his spine, but he wouldn't have protested for the world. "I want to be restrained, the works...uh...blindfold..."
"The gag?" Hutch stopped, pulling back to look at him.
"Yeah," Starsky whispered, his mouth going dry again just thinking about it. As he'd noticed earlier, he couldn't quite say the actual word, but Hutch understood him anyway. Such a simple little word, only three letters, two actually, just 'g' and 'a' but it loomed in front of him like a monster. "I want--I need to feel powerless...to go to the edge and look down."
"Deprived of all senses," Hutch said softly, rubbing the tension that seized up Starsky's shoulders.
"Under your control. For just a little while."
"Then let's get going." Hutch lingered for one last kiss before giving him the sweatshirt to put back on. It was hot in the direct sunlight, but here under the rocks, next to water, it was chilly.
Starsky shivered, pulling the shirt over his head, but it wasn't the cold that made him tremble. What had he just asked for? Could he handle tight bondage? What if he got claustrophobic when he was gagged, cuffed and blindfolded? His heart accelerated just thinking about it. He'd never liked small, dark confined places before. Would he feel like he was down a well? How did he communicate his needs? Swallowing with determination, Starsky planted his thumb between the first and second fingers on his left hand and waggled the tip of his thumb remembering the childhood song 'Where is thumpkin?' Must be his morning for nursery stories. But just knowing he could still remember the sign for 'T' made everything safer and easier to bear. This was what he wanted. At least it was what he thought he wanted.
"Okay, I wasn't sure you were ready for this, but since you asked specifically..." Hutch smiled fondly at Starsky sitting on the edge of the black table, once again in the dungeon room. "You'll be going into deep submission where your entire existence is mine to control, and you have no say or will of your own."
"Yes," Starsky agreed.
"You'll be completely bound, unable to move, but I'll never leave you without a method of communication. Since we worked out the sign language signal, you can use that again. If I was ever to cover your hands with mitts or gloves, I wouldn't gag you."
"Thank you, master." Starsky could already feel himself focusing completely on Hutch's voice. It had always had a calming effect on him, even in the most volatile situations, but now it seemed like his lifeline, the only thing that kept him bound to the earth. Even though he had requested this extreme session, he was still terrified and excited at the same time. His belly was buzzing like it was full of bees but his cock was as hard as a rock since Hutch had pulled out the medium-sized plug and removed the cock ring.
"I'll put the butt plug in first, then the gag, blindfold and so forth. Once everything is in place, you'll remain like that for one hour..."
Starsky gave a tiny wordless sound, but didn't really protest. To be truthful, Hutch's recitation of what he was about to do was completely arousing him, and he wanted to start before his resolve faltered.
Not acknowledging Starsky's interruption, Hutch continued. "At the end, I'll remove the restraints and equipment in the order it went on; depending on how long all of that takes, the plug could be in for over an hour and a half. Understood?"
"This is for you to find your center, Starsk." Hutch cupped his cheek, rubbing a gentling thumb along his lower lip. "Find your submission so that sometimes when it's hard for you to follow instructions, you can drop down into this place and accept."
"You'll stay here, won't you?"
"I won't leave your side. When you're completely bound I'll tap you twice on the arm to signal the beginning. You could use that as a command to drop into a submissive headspace. If you get more proficient at it, my just tapping your arm would be the only signal you'd need."
"Anywhere?" Starsky asked breathlessly.
"Anywhere, any time." He opened up the box containing the biggest of the plugs, looking straight at Starsky instead of at what he was holding. Starsky locked onto those sky blue eyes, wanting to dive into their depth. "Are you ready?" Hutch asked.
"Take a good look at what I'm going to put inside you." Hutch handed over a rubber butt plug, which was noticeably different than the previous two. It was much larger around, resembling a spade on a playing card, with a wide bottom before it tapered down to the base. At six inches in length, it was longer than the others and Starsky winced in anticipation when he handed it back to his lover. Hutch prepared the toy with a good slathering of lube then directed Starsky to lie on his side with one leg straight and the other bent. This gave him a good view of the tiny opening the plug was supposed to go into and without much preparation, Hutch slowly began to push it in.
Holding on to the edge of the table, Starsky kept repeating to himself, "It's not so bad, it's not so bad." And at the beginning he managed to convince himself of that, almost smiling when Hutch stopped the forward momentum for a few moments, letting Starsky take a breath.
"How're you doing?" Hutch asked, easing the plug out a fraction of an inch. "Relax, it'll only hurt if you tense up."
"I'm trying." Starsky held in an exclamation as Hutch thrust the toy further inside, but he couldn't help a tiny squeal of complaint. "It's not going to fit!" He puffed his cheeks out like a blowfish, panting with exertion but the more Hutch thrust it home, the more his body protested the violation. "Hutch, it doesn't fit, take it out." Starsky was close to pleading, giving a sigh of relief when the plug slid part way out.
"You gave up any say in the matter," Hutch said ominously. "It's not your choice any more, is it?"
"No," Starsky gasped, even with the plug only halfway in, and not to the largest part of the diameter, his anal muscles were screaming in pain. He knew he needed to relax but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the agony in his butt. He just wanted to pull it out now, and reached around back with his left hand.
"Stop," Hutch commanded in his hardest voice. "Who's collar do you wear?"
"Who do you belong to?"
"You belong to me body, soul, and mind." Hutch spoke in a low, dangerous voice that was somehow soothing at the same time. The same voice that had commanded Starsky to come to Whip's Bar. It was the voice of his Master. "Every part of you is mine. This ass is mine. These are mine." His fingers were suddenly twisting Starsky's left nipple, pinching hard enough to direct some of the pain away from the other half of his body.
"Body, soul, and mind," Starsky echoed, his muscles beginning to relax despite the assault now on two fronts. He could feel his submission drop down, enveloping him in a soft cocoon, freeing him from decision and confrontation. He'd only managed this level for a few moments ever, but he welcomed the state, knowing that was the only way he was going to cope with the rest of the session. "Push it in all the way."
Hutch shoved the plug in one go that wrangled a scream deep from Starsky's gut when the two-inch width plundered his tender rectum. The pain ripped through his burning muscles and then, amazingly, seemed to recede. It was always palpable but as Hutch adjusted the fit before buckling the strap that held the plug in place, Starsky could almost touch the pleasure that hovered just beyond his reach. He hoped with full bondage he could drop down until he found the pleasure at the bottom of the well, because he wanted it badly.
"Now the gag." Hutch held up the red ball and leather strap Starsky had been looking at earlier. "I want you to put it in yourself."
"I can't," Starsky protested fearfully.
"I'm taking 'can't' out of your vocabulary. The only thing you can say to me is 'I can' or your safeword." He placed it into Starsky's hand. "Put it in your mouth."
Not even closing his fingers around the strap hanging off his palm, Starsky stared up at his dominant lover, trying not to give in to the frightened tears that stung his eyes. "Isn't this something a master should do?"
"Are you trying to give me orders?" Hutch asked in a menacing tone. "Two demerits."
"Starsky." His voice was entirely different, that of a concerned friend only trying to help. "You need to get over the fear this holds over you, little one." He smoothed the unruly curls, petting Starsky the way he'd fondle a kitten. Starsky leaned into the caress, wanting it to go on forever. "There are far worse things than a gag. Put it in your mouth, now."
The last command brooked no disobedience. Hating that his hands trembled, Starsky closed his eyes and brought the gag up to his mouth, placing the ball between his lips and holding the two ends of the strap in either hand. The ball was wider than he'd expected, extending his jaw until he was certain he heard the hinges creak. There was an immediate ache in his cheek muscles, which, in a darkly comic way, saved him. His sense of the absurd reared up, mentally comparing the two ends of his body, both openings plugged with red rubber, both sets of cheek muscles sore and burning. Still, he almost jumped out of his skin when Hutch took the two ends of the gag strap from him and buckled them tightly behind him, taking care not to tangle his hair in the buckle.
"There." Hutch sounded pleased, which sent a thrill of pleasure down to Starsky's dick. It jumped to attention, which made Hutch laugh. "I knew this was turning you on, you bondage junkie."
Oh, God, yes. That's what he was, Starsky realized. In just three sessions he'd taken to bondage like a baby to a bottle. It soothed him, cradled him, calmed him, even when it was scary as hell and a little bit painful. And there was no doubt that it aroused him. A lot. But already he wanted the gag out; he'd had enough and was ready to return to normal. He was just about to signal Hutch with the 'T' sign when a blindfold came over his eyes, shutting him into darkness.
"Relax, sweet prince," Hutch crooned, running a gentle hand down his curved body. "Put your hands up to your collar, wrists crossed. I'm going to shackle them there, and your ankles will be chained. You won't be able to move in any way. Then, I'll put your cock into a chastity cage and last, earplugs. One hour like that. Find your pleasure, Starsk. Find what truly fulfills you."
Starsky crossed his arms as instructed, feeling Hutch attach them together at the cuffs then link them to the ring in his collar with a short chain. His ankles were drawn up, clipped together and a short chain was brought up and attached to the belt that held the anal plug in place. His knees were bent with his heels almost brushing the lower swell of his buttocks.
"I know this is scary, Starsk," Hutch continued speaking as he moved around the room. Starsky hung on his every word to keep himself grounded in the here and now. Even though the tight bondage was incredibly arousing, he was still terrified of his complete and utter immobility. If there was a fire, if he needed to go to the bathroom, if he wanted to run for his life, he couldn't. As Hutch had pointed out, even if he used the safeword, it would take several long minutes for him to be even semi-mobile. He was truly at Hutch's mercy, and it felt amazing.
"Even though this seems like torture, it is really all for you. To discover the submissive inside you and embrace it," Hutch coached.
Feeling Hutch's warm lips ripple across the smooth skin just above his groin sent Starsky into instant aching arousal. He arched his body so that his cock brushed against Hutch's mouth, but his need was not to be addressed. Instead, Hutch began to thread small cold rings over and around the stiff cock and swollen balls. Starsky was so erect the rings barely fit, and guttural sounds emerged from his throat as Hutch manhandled his painfully engorged member into place.
Shocking coldness dropped down, enveloping his genitals in an icy blanket, wilting the erection with a suddenness that left Starsky lightheaded, but his cock fit much more comfortably into its confinement after that.
"I'm locking this with a small lock." Hutch spoke after several minutes of silence, stilling Starsky's restless, almost frenzied movements. "In fact, I may leave this on after we're finished; it looks hot, and I think you'll like it, too. Now, the last piece of equipment. After I put in the earplugs, you'll have one hour. I have a timer and I'll always be in the room with you." With that, he raised up Starsky's heavy head, inserting soft, spongy ear plugs into each ear.
Immediately his heart pounded, echoing in his head as loudly as jungle drums, the blood rushing through his veins deafening. Starsky trembled, fear pouring off of him in waves. He was chained, cuffed, gagged and blindfolded. Bucking in agitation, he struggled in his bounds, trying to break free, out of his mind with fear. A peaceful hand touched Starsky's forehead, slowing his frantic movements. Thumbs pressed against the fragile skin of his temples, making lazy, calming circles until he was able to breathe without a struggle. Starsky's heart rate slowed perceptively so he didn't feel like he was running a marathon, and he lay quietly, trying to come to equitable terms with his enforced bondage.
Two firm taps on his upper bicep stilled even his racing thoughts. What was the significance Hutch had given those taps? Oh, yes, deep submission. Total surrender.
With a shuddery breath, Starsky tried to remember back to the few times he'd managed true deep submission. That desired state had always been so fleeting, but it had been extraordinary to be completely free, completely relaxed, even for a few seconds. He so rarely had quiet time when he wasn't in a whirl of activity that he could barely remember being truly calm in the last few years. It was difficult to force his body to be still. He should, by rights, hate being restrained, but instead it was like expensive therapy, necessary for his mental well-being.
Letting his mind drift he recalled years earlier when Hutch had cajoled him into attending a yoga class, promising sexy women and an alternative to weight lifting and calisthenics. Starsky would later insist he'd only returned to subsequent classes because of the pretty girls bending their lithe bodies into bizarre contortions, but in truth he'd enjoyed the challenge of twisting himself into pretzel-like positions and then the total relaxation only possible after intense yoga. That had been close to the sensation he wanted to achieve here.
Starsky let out a slow exhalation, dropping as deeply down into the submissive well as he could on the first try. Each measured inhalation and exhalation, each second that he accepted being bound and held under his master's will dropped him further and further into a slave headspace.
He released the aching burn in his ass and jaw, forgot about the pull on his knee joints and accepted his bound cock as his due. He was a slave. When the endorphins swamped his emotions he wanted to weep with happiness, welcoming the natural high. He WAS a slave. Just the image of himself kneeling at Hutch's feet with his hands cuffed behind his back filled him with such joy, he felt his body soar upwards like an eagle on the wind. With nothing to hold him to the earth, Starsky flew through a twilight sky, floating amongst pink and blue clouds, awed by his total release. Above him a silvery white crane slowly flapped its wings, then swooped downwards, as if to intercept him in mid-flight.
Hutch stood to one side of the black table, his eyes drawn to Starsky's bowed and fettered body. Just the touch of his hand had soothed his slave and now after the first frantic struggle Starsky had calmed and seemed hardly there at all, as if he'd left this bound shell behind and flown away. Hutch longed to reach out, touch that sweetly furred chest and feel the pounding of the powerful heart inside, but he didn't want to disturb Starsky's deep, almost trance-like state. Even with the blindfold hiding half that expressive face, Hutch knew Starsky was at peace and he rejoiced.
This had been such an incredible weekend, filled with magical moments and unimaginable sex. He couldn't believe the two of them had come so far in such a short time. Just three sessions and both were completely immersed in BDSM. It still thrilled him that Starsky had such a predilection for this alternative life style. And that he was such a fan of bondage was a revelation. Hutch would have never guessed that he'd be shackling Starsky and enjoy seeing his macho lover squirm and whimper with desire and yes, pain. That was so alien a concept Hutch was still trying to get accustomed to it himself. He'd despaired every time Starsky had ever been injured on the job, mourned every scar and cruel act others had caused and yet here he was, happily subjecting Starsky to fairly profound acts of pain and erotic torture. Why? What kind of perverted person did that? Why did he fantasize having Starsky spread-eagled over a whipping frame, with his black gloved hands roaming over that strong muscled body before delivering six quick smacks with a cane? It was horrible and wonderful and already his cock was rock hard just thinking about it. He loved touching Starsky's body. Loved claiming every battle scared inch as his own property and putting his mark on it. He dreamed about sliding his hands up under Starsky's leather jacket while they were on the job, unclasping the shoulder holster, ripping the buttons off his shirt and having his way with his prisoner in an alley behind some seamy bar. It was such a turn-on to know that these long-standing fantasies would arouse Starsky just as much, and that there was every possibility that they might be reality in the near future.
Still wanting to touch his lover, but unwilling to disturb him before the hour was up, Hutch settled himself on a leather hassock that could double as a whipping block. Crossing his legs, he folded them into the lotus position and emptied his mind of all things but Starsky. Reaching out on the astral plane Hutch could feel his spirit soar, imagining Starsky's flying below him like an exotic dark bird. In his vision they were both birds, joining in mid-flight the way jets did when they refueled. Linked together, but flying free--it was a perfect image of bondage, reinforcing the concept that bondage wasn't a confinement but a joining of two people who couldn't imagine life apart.
When Hutch came out of his meditation, the house was serenely quiet around him, even the screeching sound of the birds outside quieted. Only five minutes remained in the hour and Hutch smiled with happiness, knowing he and Starsky had reached a new level in their journey together. He began to sing, songs coming out of his mouth without any conscious thought, but suiting the mood perfectly.
Starsky couldn't believe it when he felt two taps on his upper arm bringing him out of his reverie. Strong fingers were carding through his curly hair, then pulling the earplugs free. It hadn't been an hour, had it?
"Times up, my heart." Hutch's warm breath tickled Starsky's earlobe. "Take your time to come down to Earth."
Feeling boneless, Starsky gave no resistance as Hutch manipulated his limbs, freeing him from captivity. Instead, he focused on his master's voice, singing softly as he worked. The words were gentle and oddly appropriate.
"I'll be there when you're coming down, to kiss away the tears and sorrow," Hutch sang, rubbing circulation into Starsky's legs and arms. "I'll share with you all the happiness you see, a reflection of the love in your eyes."
Starsky wished he could speak, describe what had just happened, but no words were adequate. Instead he let himself be handled like a doll, waiting for each gadget to be removed. Finally, all that was left was the chastity cage, gag, and butt plug. The deep bruising ache of his jaw muscles and the protest in his backside once again made their presence known, but these were minor compared to his euphoric sense of happiness. The lingering effects of his experience had left him as high as a kite, and he almost wanted to insist Hutch leave him bound for another hour.
Hutch unbuckled the gag, easing it out of his slave's mouth and kissed Starsky there before offering him a bottle of water to sip.
Starsky closed his throbbing jaw carefully, working the muscles before drinking some water. It tasted sweet and cool.
"How do you feel?" Hutch rubbed his shoulder, watching him with such love Starsky had to return some of that love.
Starsky turned his head, kissing the inside of his partner's wrist. "So incredible. Fuckin' amazing." He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, his emotions all so near the surface he felt transformed. He'd had a metamorphosis and seriously wondered if he looked in the mirror would there be visible changes. His submission had become part of his being, not just an abstract concept, but an integral part of who he was.
"I'm glad." Hutch pulled him up, helping him to sit on the table.
Starsky yelped, the change in position forcing the butt plug deeper inside him, but he hardly cared.
"Watching you..." Hutch cupped his face, still looking deeply into his eyes. "I was jealous."
"But you were there." Starsky traced his lips, smoothing his blond eyebrows and touching that silvery hair, "I could sense you, always, always with me."
"I meditated...you saw me?" Hutch laughed with delight.
"At first, when you put in the ear plugs, I was really scared. I felt trapped inside a cage..."
"Not really." He shook his head. He did occasionally suffer from a fear of small spaces, but this had been different. He'd been more afraid of losing his way, never being his own person again, just Hutch's slave. But that hadn't happened. Instead he felt more alive and yet more connected than ever to his best friend. "Afraid of being alone, I guess, no senses. But when you tapped me on the arm, I knew it would be all right... I went to that place... It was perfect and peaceful and I don't even know..."
"Do you think you can remember that place and get there again?" Hutch asked. "If I tapped your arm, could you drop into your submissive headspace without being bound?"
"I liked being bound!" Starsky chuckled. "I want to be able to do that...but it'll take more work. Can we do this again?"
"Glutton, you are hooked," Hutch teased. He sang, "You can't always get what you want."
"First John Denver, now the Stones? You got a whole collection of bondage related songs?"
"No, but that's an excellent idea. I gotta start a list."
"I love you."
"God, how I love you." Hutch pressed a chaste kiss into his forehead. "Stand up, I'll get this thing out of you." He patted his bottom on the butt, jostling the plug, reminding Starsky of just how big it really was.
Starsky got awkwardly off the table; his legs were still wobbly, his hips splayed and slack jointed. He braced himself against the black table, facing away from Hutch. "The cuffs are fine, and even the nasty mouth ball that buckles in the back..." Starsky started, hissing through his teeth as the butt plug popped free. "But that thing I can do without."
Nuzzling Starsky's neck, Hutch just held him. A shared moment in time, just one of many they would have, but nonetheless precious and treasured. He pulled Starsky in tighter, winding his arms around his waist. Starsky savored Hutch's strong chest against his back, the smoothness of the leather pants pressing against his butt, even though his anus felt loose and bruised. And he was so very aware of it.
"Get used to it. He or one of his ilk..."
"Ilk?" Starsky turned in his arms so that he was now facing Hutch.
"Are gonna be your constant fuck buddies from now on. When I'm not staking my claim."
"You're just a ray a'sunshine, y'know that? How constant?"
"Fisting means this goes up where this one was." Hutch held up his big closed fist next to the red rubber plug. Starsky gulped audibly, the size difference was still considerable.
"So his ilk are bigger, huh?"
"Bigger than big red here, little one, but we'll take it in stages."
"Slow down; you move too fast..." Starsky trebled with a grin. He had a lightheartedness about the whole thing that he'd never have managed at the beginning of January. This was so much fun. Oh, there were still some aspects that scared the crap out of him, but he wanted it all--every perverted, kinky game the two of them could devise.
"Simon and Garfunckle," Hutch identified.
"And Three Dog Night," Starsky whispered into Hutch's parted lips. "Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me."
"Not quite in the bondage theme." Hutch kissed him from ear to collar bone, concentrating especially on the brown leather collar.
Starsky focused his fast diminishing powers of concentration on liberating Hutch from his leather pants. He managed to unzip the fly one handed before Hutch's assault distracted him from that pursuit.
"No chains or dominance themes..." Hutch left a long wet swatch along his lover's throat with his tongue. "Now...'I've got you under my skin'..."
"But it suits my mood." Starsky buried his nose in blond hair. "It's my theme for the day." Just the musty scent of Hutch, his shampoo and an earthy odor of sweat, was intoxicating. Starsky's arousal sent a rush of blood down south, his cock starting to swell with base desires. He pressed himself against Hutch's responding stiffness, but something solid jammed into his genitals, and it wasn't long, pink and hard. Abruptly he groaned, reaching down to encounter an impenetrable barrier closed around his penis.
"What's this?" Starsky reared back, staring at his confined cock with misgivings. Consisting of concentric, interlocking rings and a plastic tube it held his cock and balls imprisoned, and he could feel something biting down inside on his once blossoming erection like the blunt edge of a butter knife. It wasn't sharp but it was distinctly uncomfortable, and already he was beginning to wilt. Until that moment he'd been in such a blissful state he'd forgotten the chastity cage Hutch had locked around his privates. "God, it looks barbaric."
"It makes me hot all over," Hutch whispered, his hands roaming freely over Starsky's naked skin.
In truth, Starsky had to agree. "How long are you gonna leave it on?" he asked, a blush heating up his cheeks. It was a complete mystery why this fiendish little device of metal and plastic gave him such a thrill. He wanted to be horrified that his master had stolen his most private bodily impulses from him, subjecting him to abject servitude where he even had to ask to come, but instead it made him feel even more desired and loved than ever before.
"As long as I can." Hutch winked at him. "Maybe even after we go home."
"It'll show," Starsky whispered into the silky skin of Hutch's chest.
"In your skin tight jeans, yeah, but in a pair of pleated slacks, no problem."
"What about going to pee?" Starsky was sure there was already pressure in his bladder.
Hutch nipped his shoulder blade, biting the taut skin between his teeth until he nearly broke through, then releasing it to bestow a kiss on the inflamed area. "There's a hole in the end. You'd have to take it off once in a while to clean it but..." He grinned with a hint of gleeful evilness, his fingers rubbing Starsky's nipples to hard nubs.
"I'd have to wear it?" Starsky asked, both scared and enthralled to hear the answer. "Until you set me free?" He was acutely conscious of his male organs, all his nerve endings tuned to the desperate pulse thrumming through his groin. He'd always been proud to be a man, macho and well satisfied with his 'extra appendage' swinging freely between his thighs. But now it was trapped and off limits, no longer his at all, Hutch's property. It made him hot all over, especially with those big blunt fingers grabbing his butt cheeks, grasping and pinching his flesh without asking for his permission. Using him without regard for his comfort. Because he'd given himself over to Hutch. Even in the midst of this distracting captivation the arrangement between Caress and Lisa came unbidden into his mind. Could he and Hutch achieve a similar level of commitment?
"I'm never going to set you free." Hutch hugged him fiercely. "You're confined to my heart."
"In bondage for the rest of my days." Starsky sighed dramatically. He couldn't take his eyes off the peculiar contraption, but knew better than to touch it after his initial inspection. "Whadda think would happen if I wore it on the job?"
"Might come in handy if you got kicked in the groin."
"Only you would think of a sex toy as the ultimate in sports cups." Starsky rolled his eyes.
"Even your erection is no longer yours. It's mine to control. This is locked into place until I take it off." Hutch toyed with the lock, sending jolts of sex through Starsky's system.
Groaning, Starsky ached with the need to come, yearning to have Hutch's hands clutching his naked rod instead of this plastic trap.
"Until I say so, you're mine. Every square inch."
Almost swooning from the domineering words and the rough way Hutch was handling him, Starsky arched backwards, thrusting his groin with its strange attire against Hutch's leg. He didn't care that the bite on his cock was almost too much to bear, he was long past noticing petty annoyances of the body. The submissive headspace rolled him under with sudden, unexpected force, leaving him gasping when Hutch dipped a finger into his anus. "Oh, yeah," Starsky whispered, grasping the edge of the table to hold himself up while Hutch's finger explored deeper. He was half supported by Hutch's arm with one leg jammed against the black table, but his senses were too overloaded to notice anything but the need to come. It was overwhelming him. Circuits were beginning to snap and fizzle, leading to a total meltdown.
"Take me. Please," Starsky begged. He knew it would hurt, he knew he wouldn't be able to sit down for days, but he was going to die in the next few seconds if something didn't happen soon.
It hurt so good, sooo good. His whole cock ached like a sore tooth, his balls fighting their way free of their bounds, but still he begged for more. "Huuu...tch."
"Tell me what you want, Starsk." Hutch's voice was muffled, his lips sucking on Starsky's shoulder, raising a prominent hickey. "Tell me exactly what you want." He'd already added two fingers, then three into the tight passage he was navigating and with just a little force, included his pinky leaving only his thumb imprinting on the perineum.
"St-ake your claim." Starsky was shuddering with the need for release, freefalling away from the agony that gripped him and surrendering to the pleasure it brought.
All Hutch had to do was turn his body slightly, eject his fingers from their warm cocoon and ram his steel-hard member home. Because Starsky was still well lubed, Hutch slid in without a token of resistance in one go, his scrotum slapping Starsky's butt with a resounding smack.
Starsky screamed, reaching back to catch Hutch's hips, to force the angle until the pulsing head nailed his prostate dead on.
Hutch was babbling nonsense, or at least it was nonsense to Starsky. Nothing made any sense at all except the cock up his rear and the quaking, amazing stimuli to his prostate. He wanted it to go on forever, but his own cock felt sliced in two from the barrier preventing his full erection.
Hot spurts of semen filled his rectum until Starsky marveled that he could hold it all. Hutch must have the testes of an elephant, because the scalding flood went on and on, searing Starsky's bowels. He whimpered with delight, his body hot and cold at the same time, almost in shock from the avalanche of stimuli. Finally, Hutch shouted inarticulately, giving one last jolting thrust and sighed. He was panting, sweat dripping down his chest, slicking Starsky's back, and it took some effort to disconnect the two of them.
"God," Starsky whispered, too sore to move much. Come dripped down his buttocks and thighs, but he made no effort to wipe at the mess. He didn't have a towel or washrag anyway.
"Oh, yeah." Hutch leaned his forehead against his partner's shoulder, before digging into his pocket for the key. "This thing's been on for long enough." He knelt, kissing his slave's overly sensitive groin before unlocking the chastity cage and easing it off with special care.
Starsky still groaned; his cock hurt like he'd been kicked, but it sprang out of its bars to full length so quickly he was light headed and woozy.
"C-an I come, Hutch? Please?" There was desperation in the last words, Starsky's teeth clenched from the sharp edge on which his nerves balanced.
"No problem." Hutch only had to close his lips around the turgid, purplish-red organ when Starsky bucked, his balls tightening up as they emptied their load into Hutch's mouth. After the long build up, the climax was over so soon Starsky might have been disappointed if it hadn't been for Hutch's body wrapped around his, his mouth still warming the finally flaccid penis.
"When can we do this again?" Starsky asked, slumped with one elbow on the black table to hold him up. He felt abused, internally and externally but invigorated at the same time, charged with a wild, joyful abandon.
"Any time I say so." Hutch pulled himself up, still the dominant, but also a friend. "But you need to get some rest or you won't have the stamina to do this again."
"I'll rest if you will." Starsky smoothed Hutch's mussed blond locks. "Bath and then a nap? How long do we have this place for, anyhow?"
"I thought I was the one who gave the orders around here." Hutch put a steady arm around his lover, leading him out of the dungeon towards the bathroom. "Check out time is noon, tomorrow."
"Oh!" Starsky widened his eyes with mischief. "But we're off the clock, aren't we?"
"Officially, your indenture has ended for this weekend. It's all rest from now on."
"ALL rest?" Starsky teased.
"Maybe not ALL," Hutch conceded, depositing his friend on the vanity stool while he turned on the bathtub tap. "Maybe something will come up after lunch."
"Maybe so." Starsky agreed. How could it be that he was this tired and this horny at the same time? "Something may come up sooner than you think." He looked pointedly at his friend's little buddy who appeared quite interested in the innuendo-spiced conversation.
"You may have to take that guy in hand and give him the treatment he deserves," Hutch observed, watching his cock perk up.
"Maybe a fitting punishment?"
"I don't think punishment is warranted; that's my department. But you have complete leeway to devise a suitable course of therapy. Looks like a wayward lad to me."
"Physical therapy." Starsky submerged himself in the warm bathtub, moving over to accommodate Hutch. The water sloshed over the side, leaving puddles of water on the blue tiled floor. Above them, the sun had reached its zenith, blazing down at them through the skylight, the blue of the sky echoing the floor and Hutch's eyes. The sun's rays gilt the gold faucet and bathroom fixtures making the whole room sparkle. "This place is incredible," Starsky sighed just brushing his hand over Hutch's growing erection. Even though he was willing to go another round, every second in the relaxing waters was taking away the immediate need. "Looks like a Sheik's palace in some old Dorothy Lamour movie."
"S'meant to." Hutch had sunk down until the bath water lapped at his jaw line. "Y'know there are nine other cabins and from what I hear, they're all different."
"Really?" Starsky stared out the huge atrium window that surrounded the octagonal bath, into the tangle of ferns and jasmine vines that partially hid them from potentially prying eyes. Not that there might be any. If what Hutch had said was true, the management of the estate allowed any behaviors between consenting adults. "All different?"
"And in case you're wondering, I already put a down payment on number two."
"What's that place like?"
"Haven't a clue. But, then, I like surprises."
"You do not." Starsky cupped his hand in the water, splashing Hutch with the little wave he created. "I do."
"That's right, I forgot."
"So when do we come back?"
"It's a surprise."
Author's note: As far as I'm aware there is no such estate like the one described in the story, but in certain parts of Los Angeles and the surrounding areas, peacocks and parrots do live in the wild. Admittedly beautiful to look at, they are both loud, obnoxious birds to the local residents and can be annoying to live with! Dawn