Postage Due
Rating: NC-17
Archive: 7th Dimension, ODM, my site http://www.ejai.org/tarshaan/diane.html ,
The Persuaders archive and anywhere else please ask first
E-mail address for feedback: dswdiane@aol.com
Disclaimers: Characters aren't mine. No money made.
Summary: Bascially a PWP totally without social merit. Encited by suze.
all her fault. Long into a relationship with Mac, Methos misbehaves on
purpose and pays the price much to the enjoyment of both, with a little angst
for spice. Oh, the story is in context of relationship being developed in
earlier stories that can be found on my page, and might be more richly
understood when read after those, but I think can be read on it's own.
Warnings: Graphic homoerotic sex and BDSM and what some might call DD and
some might not.
Thanks: Thanks to Suze for inspiration and encouragement. Thanks to Tansy, Michael,
ShrewKate for Beta reading, comments and encouragement. Thanks to Diana and
Ken for feedback, encouragement, and comments.
Methos hung up his coat, carefully keeping the weapons from clanging, and put
down his shoes which he taken off before climbing the stairs. He started
silently stripping off his sweater as he crossed the darkened loft to the bed
where he assumed Duncan was soundly asleep.
"Any particular reason you haven't been answering your cell phone?" Duncan
asked quietly from the bed.
Methos almost jumped out of his skin. "Um . . ." He thought hastily as he
threw his sweater over the back of a chair, and then said with a grin,
"maybe the battery died."
Duncan sat up and said agreeably, "You could tell me that. You certainly
could."
Methos stubbed his toe on a box which was inconveniently lying in the pathway
between the stairs and the bed and yelped. "What the fuck is that?" He
hopped and staggered on one foot and flopped down on the couch.
"A package that came for you," Duncan said, getting out of bed, wearing
nothing but sweatpants that were almost indecently low-slung. "Are you
okay?" He sat on the couch and gathered the hurt foot into his lap.
Methos chuckled as Duncan stripped his sock off and looked at the rapidly
healing bruise. "Of course, I'm okay, you idiotic clan chieftain. I'm
Immortal. I heal. You've not noticed?"
"Oh, I've noticed," Duncan said dryly, starting absently to massage the foot
in his lap. "Now, what exactly is the story with your cell phone? The one
that was fully charged when you left home. The one that I took off the
charger and put in your pocket when you left here 'Just for a minute, have to
run down to the book store, get a Greek-English dictionary. Be right back'
Oh, about ten hours ago."
"Um, forgot I had a cell phone in my pocket. . ." Methos said lamely.
Duncan sighed with exasperation and held out his hand. "Cell phone, now,
please. Hand over," he ordered.
Methos' eyes widened. "Any other commands, oh lord and master?" he asked as
he pulled the phone out and gave it to the other man.
Duncan looked at it. "Turned it off and then forgot you had it, huh?" he
said flatly. "That does kind of negate the whole purpose of why I bought the
damn thing for you, now doesn't it?"
Methos wiggled his toes against Duncan's bare stomach. "Who's the package
from?" he asked guilelessly.
"Nice, very nice. A double distraction. I admire your technique." Duncan
raised one eyebrow. Methos grinned mischievously and gave an acknowledging
nod.
"The package?" he prodded.
"The phone?" Duncan countered.
Methos wiggled his toes again on Duncan's stomach, then pulled his foot back,
gathered his legs beneath him, and glided over the couch on his knees.
Putting a hand on the back of the couch on each side of the Highlander's head
and a knee on each side of his thighs, Methos settled in his lap, looking him
in the eyes.
Almost whispering, he said, "I left here to go to the bookstore. You know
how I get lost in bookstores. I sit down on the bloody floor and read in
bookstores. So, I sat down on the floor. I read a book. I got lost in the
book. I bought the book. I kept reading the book. The phone rang. I
turned it off. I knew it was you. I was being bad. I knew it. So I
figured in for a penny," he shrugged, "in for a pound. I went to Joe's. I
drank a beer. I talked to Joe. I argued with Joe. I drank more beer. I
thought about all the different ways you might make me pay for my sins. I
got *very* hot and horny. I drank some bourbon. Joe told me to get that
idiotic grin off my face and to stop thinking about you and just go home. I
came home. Satisfied?"
Duncan's smile was slow, lazy, and very lecherous. "The package is from
Amanda. I cannot wait to see what she might have sent you."
Methos chuckled, whispering throatily, "shall we look, right now?"
"Oh, why not?" Duncan gathered Methos in closely, kissed him deeply, and
hooked the package with his right foot, pulling it to the couch. Duncan
reached over, pulled it up to the couch beside them, and, pulling a knife out
of a drawer in the table beside the couch, he slit the package open. Methos
sat back on Duncan's knees and watched.
Duncan pulled out a card from the top and handed it to Methos.
"A very happy unbirthday to you, to you. A very happy unbirthday to you, to
you. Well, I mean, really, love, we might as well celebrate your unbirthday
a few times a year, and I was in the most delightful shop today. Not sure
exactly what games you and Duncan play, but thought some of these toys might
amuse you. Give the boy scout my love, and tell him I hope he still knows
how to tie his knots. Hugs and kisses, Amanda," Methos finished reading the
note aloud with a grin. He looked over at Duncan. "Why don't we see what
toys the dear girl sent."
Duncan stroked Methos' cheek with a finger and then rummaged through the
styrofoam packing peanuts.
"Oh my, what have we here?" Duncan asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.
Methos looked at what Duncan had brought out of the packing and smiled
happily. "Oh, a suede flogger. Many, many soft, strands of suede. Very,
very sensual. And you can't even get it to hurt much, unless you're stinging
it down over and over across an already blistered and burning ass."
"And this?" Duncan took out the next present. Methos shuddered.
"That *wicked* implement is an acrylic switch, and as far as I'm concerned,
you can just assign it to the rubbish bin. It would hurt and sting like
hell-fire, and I have no fucking need to ever get acquainted with it," he
said firmly.
Duncan grinned, laying the implement aside. Methos moaned. "I wasn't *that*
bad was I?" he asked desperately.
"And this?" Duncan asked, calmly going on with the exploration of the
contents of the box and ignoring the question.
"Oh, gods, a leather paddle with a steel spine running up the middle. Sting
and thud. I hate these things. Totally. What in all gods names was she
*thinking*?" Methos' voice rose in a wailing protest.
Duncan continued to ignore the other man as he took out the next present.
Methos looked at it and purred. "Oh, wow. A silk flogger. Couldn't hurt a
fly with this one. Is just for fun and playing. Oh, MY. Thank you, Amanda."
"And oh my." Duncan brought out a plastic *object* shaped like a hairbrush,
without bristles, blue in color, five inches long, three inches wide across
the top, maybe an eighth of an inch deep, with a handle about ten inches
long. Methos' eyes widened again.
"That," he said, "is just *evil*. No one deserves to have their ass smacked
with that. Would sting like bloody hell."
"Really?" Duncan asked calmly. He gathered Methos back into his arms and
asked, "And how did you imagine you might *end up* paying for your sins, my
love? If you'd met a fortune teller what would she have told you was in your
future?" He stroked Methos' back and kissed him hard.
Methos shivered against Duncan, feeling himself starting to sink into
sub-space and enjoying the drift. "Umm. . .I think she would have told me
that a tall, dark, handsome man was going to give me a very long, hard
spanking."
Duncan grinned. "*A* spanking? What do you deserve for turning off your
cell phone and not answering it?"
Methos shivered again and trailed kisses up Duncan's neck. "A spanking," he
said carefully.
Duncan grinned again, evilly and mercilessly. "And what does this very
naughty brat deserve for disappearing for hours and hours?"
"Another spanking?" Methos asked tentatively, kissing again.
Duncan kept grinning. "And for fibbing and saying that the battery on the
phone had run down when actually, it had been turned off and put away?"
Methos sat up outraged and indignant. "I didn't say that the battery had run
down . . .I just suggested the possibility . . ." He looked into Duncan's
eyes and sighed. "Another spanking." He collapsed back into Duncan's arms,
grumbling, "If you're going to spend the entire night blistering my ass,
we'll never get around to fucking, you know."
Duncan stroked down Methos back, soothing and comforting, saying in a low,
commanding voice, "Whose decision is it how many spankings land on that
naughty, disobedient bottom, love?"
"Yours." Methos rolled his eyes, shivered again at the tone of Duncan's
voice, sank another two floors down into sub-space, and gently bit the
junction of Duncan's neck and shoulder.
Duncan rolled his head back, smiled, and asked in low, husky voice, "And how
does that bottom get spanked?"
Methos felt his stomach clench and trembled, floating another six floors
doors down, to ground zero.. "With my pants down and my bottom bare," he
whispered into Duncan's neck.
"Mmmhmm," Duncan agreed, suddenly grabbing the loops on the waist band of
Methos jeans, pulling him up to his knees, slowly unfastening his jeans, then
nuzzling at his neck. Methos threw his head back and moaned as Duncan
proceeded to unzip his jeans, take them down to just below his ass, stroking
and caressing. Duncan continued to caress, slipping his fingers into the
waistband of Methos' boxers, pulling them down in back, also to just below
the ass cheeks, stroking the now bare buttocks, with his fingers running up
and down the crevice.
The waistband of the boxers caught in front, held in place by Methos' hard
cock. Duncan chuckled, and while continuing to stroke Methos' ass with one
hand, he brought the other hand, around to slip the waistband free, at the
same time dipping his thumb inside the foreskin, coating it with the wetness
dripping out, and sliding it around the head of the cock.
"Oh, gods, Duncan," Methos gasped out, floating in the depths of sub-space.
"Make up your goddamm mind whether you're going to fuck me or punish me."
"Wrong order," Duncan said with a chuckle in his voice. "Punish first. Fuck
later." His voice changed, suddenly becoming firm. "And, oh, my lad, you
have certainly set yourself up to be punished."
Methos felt his stomach clench again and gasped as the wings of butterflies
taking flight in it brushed against the walls of his guts. Duncan shifted on
the couch, pulling Methos over his knees, ass up, high over Duncan's lap.
Duncan stroked again, gliding his fingers, up from the junction of thighs and
buttocks all the way to the hem of the Henley shirt Methos had been wearing
under his sweater. Duncan pulled the shirt up, thoroughly baring the butt
over his knees from the bottom of the rib cage to the top of the thighs.
Methos squirmed, and Duncan pulled his jeans and boxers farther down his
thighs.
Duncan stroked the bare ass over his knees again and asked, "Why did I buy
you a cell phone, baby?" His hand came up and smacked down hard on the apex
of the curve of the buttocks.
Methos squirmed and gasped as the hard hand came down again and again. He
took a deep breath and gasped out, "'Cause you want to keep me on a fucking
electronic leash, OWW." He yelped as Duncan's hard hand smacked into the
under hang of his butt. "Well, maybe, not," he gasped out hastily. "OWW!"
"I repeat the question, Methos," Duncan said gently, stroking the reddening
ass again before raising his hand once more and bringing it down blisteringly
hard, three times at the junction of thighs and buttocks.
Methos half-screamed and panted out, "You bought me the fucking thing so I
could stay in touch with you and let you know where I AM!" He squirmed
frantically.
"Good answer," Duncan said, reaching over to pick up the leather paddle.
Methos moaned. "Oh, Duncan, please . . .OWWW," he shrieked as the paddle
slapped down across the center of the bottom parts of his cheeks. "OWWWW. .
." he yelled out as it came down again. Tears of pain that he blinked back
furiously sprang into his eyes, as he continued his frantic wriggling and
squirming.
"Is there any reason why I shouldn't be allowed to know where you are,
Methos?" Duncan asked quietly, smacking the paddle down five more times hard
and fast. "Is there some reason you need to keep your whereabouts concealed
from your loved ones?" The paddle came down another seven times. Methos
squirmed and shrieked.
"No," he gasped out. "No. . .no. . .no . ..I. . .just. ..forget.. . .to tell
you .. .sometimes."
The butterflies in his stomach seemed to turn into wildly gyrating
hummingbirds as Methos saw Duncan pick up the new blue, hairbrush-like,
implement that had come in the package sent by Amanda.
"OHHHH . .. .OWWWWW," Methos yelped out as the blue plastic paddle snapped
down on the apex of his right cheek, multiple times. He went on yelping,
half-screaming and squirming futilely as Duncan continued multiple swats in a
straight line across his ass and then down and back across.
"You know, Methos,"Duncan said almost conversationally, but with a biting
edge to his voice, "you *are* an adult. You're certainly free to wander
around town without informing me of your whereabouts. You're more than
capable of taking care of yourself. You've been doing it longer than anyone
alive." He snapped the paddle down hard.
Methos screamed and felt the tears welling in his eyes start to spill out as
he listened to Duncan, his stomach starting to fill with a sense of sinking
dismay. The Highlander was going places he had not expected to be taken.
"I suppose it's entirely my *own* problem that I worry when hours go by and I
have no clue where you are. When all you'd have to do is dial a number on a
cell phone to let me know," Duncan went on, still snapping the paddle down
over and over on the under hang of Methos' cheeks and on the on the junction
of his thighs and buttocks.
Methos squirmed and gasped, his breath coming out in half-sobbing sounds.
More tears welled in his eyes, and spilled down his cheeks as he listened to
Duncan, and his chest started to tighten with the terrified suspicion that
Duncan was totally serious with this scolding.
Duncan continued, his voice getting grim. "I suppose that the fact that I
could be imagining you might be lying wounded or dead in some alley after
beheading a headhunter, perfect prey for another one, is entirely my problem.
Or the fact that I might wonder if some old enemy might have tracked you
down and taken you is just a foolish concern "
Methos listened to the seriousness of Duncan's voice with utter
consternation, his throat tightening. A sudden very sharp snap of the
horrible blue object at the very top of his right thigh, forced out a yelp,
and at the same time as he yelped, the tightness in his chest and throat
simply burst out into shuddering sobs.
Duncan stopped immediately as Methos started sobbing, sounding as if he were
truly frightened. Duncan's eyes widened and his worried, concerned,
"Methos?" slipped out of his mouth at the same time that Methos safe-worded
with, "PIKA!"
Duncan immediately gathered Methos up into his arms, holding and rocking and
soothing. "Oh, love," he murmured, "what's wrong?"
Methos sobbed against Duncan's shoulder. "I . . .thought . . .Joe . .
.called you . . .If I'd . . .th . . .thought . . for one . .. minute . .
.that Joe . . .hadn't called . . .you, I would have. . ."
"Shhh, baby, shhh." Duncan's voice was gentle and warm. "Joe did call me.
He called when you came into the bar. He called and told me when you left
the bar. Didn't you know he had?"
Methos thought back to the bar.
Methos had walked to the back as he usually did, taking a stool, still
reading his book, waiting for Joe to notice him.
"Have you called Mac?" Joe demanded, suddenly appearing in front of Methos
with a Sam Adams in hand, slamming it down in front of the Immortal.
Methos looked up from the newest Robert Crais mystery novel and grinned.
"No," he said quietly,"am I supposed to? Why? Has he told you he's
worried?"
Joe glared and muttered, "I do not want understand the games you two play. I
really don't." He glared again "And I don't appreciate being called upon to
be a player in the middle of them." He glowered again and then grinned." Do
you want anything besides a beer?"
Methos smiled lazily: "Later. Wild Turkey. Rocks. On the side. Not yet.
I'm reading. And you're busy."
Joe just looked at him. "Yeah, I'm busy as hell. And I have to get more
supplies from the back." He looked over at Mike who was also tending the bar
and called out, "Mike, I'm going to the back to get supplies." Mike nodded
acknowledgment and went on serving customers. Joe disappeared. Methos went
on reading, confident that Joe was going to his office to call Duncan.
Joe was back in a couple of minutes, half-glaring at Methos who looked up at
him mildly and said, "Have you ever considered the relative sizes of mammals?"
Joe choked on the beer he was drinking and said, "What?"
"Have you ever considered the relative sizes of mammals? I mean compared to
other classes of animals? I *think* mammals are in classes - I think it's
phylum: Chordata, order: vertebra and then class: mammal. I'm not sure.
I'm not a biologist. We could look it up. But have you ever considered the
relative sizes of mammals? I mean they range from mice to whales. That's
quite a difference. I don't think there's any other category of animal with
quite such a difference in size."
Joe stared at him. "Reptiles. Dinosaurs to lizards."
"Well, yes, but, the dinosaurs are dead. Extinct. Didn't make it. Gone.
Gone. Gone."
"Why are we talking about this? Joe asked flatly.
"Well," Methos said mildly. "I tend to be interested in characteristics of
survival. Mammals survive. In all kinds of environmental niches. Joe . .
.have you ever considered that damn parrot wouldn't have been nailed to it's
perch, pining for the fjords, if it had been a mammal?"
Joe started laughing helplessly, beer almost coming out his nose.
Methos choked out what he remembered from the bar, still sobbing and holding
on tightly to Duncan, the sobs gradually quieting. His voice was still
shaking. "I thought he had . . .with him asking about me calling you and
commenting on . .the games we play . . .I thought you'd called him . . .and
told him not to . . .tell me . . . but . . ."
Duncan held Methos, rocking and soothing, saying gently, "I did call him. He
did call me. I knew where you were. Bookstore. Bar. Home. I knew you were
safe, If Joe hadn't called, you would have walked home into a very real
fight, not play. This was all play."
Methos buried his face in Duncan's shoulder, the sobs quieting even more.
"M'sorry," he mumbled. "You sounded so fucking serious.."
"Nothing to be sorry about," Duncan said as he continued stroking,
soothing, and cuddling until the sobs stopped. He said firmly. "Now time out
from play, love. We need to talk."
Methos looked up from Duncan's shoulder. "Oh?" he asked shakily, tears still
welling and spilling. "Have I fucked up?"
"No," Duncan said gently, stroking along Methos cheek bone with a long
finger, brushing away the tears. "I think I've come close to fucking up.
Me, not you. Or both of us."
He took Methos face into both hands and stared into the green-gold eyes
intently. "Methos, this was all play. I wanted it to be all play. I know
that sometimes you want to be punished for fucking up in real life and that
being punished for fucking up in real life turns you on like a heat-seeking
smart bomb, but we definitely make it clear when we're playing that scene."
"But no sex with punishment," Methos interrupted, shivering.
"No," Duncan agreed, pulling Methos back into his arms. Aware that Methos
was still deep in sub-space, he gathered up an afghan and covered the other
man, to keep him warm and to help him feel safe. "Not with. But, after. .
.Methos--" Duncan finished with a grin.
"Yes, Duncan, you just said, heat-seeking smart bomb . . .more like
fuck-seeking, eyes-glazed Methos bomb definitely on edge of explosion,"
Methos conceded.
"Uh huh." Duncan continued grinning. "But this was NOT that scene. WE were
playing. I knew where you were. You knew I knew where you were. Joe
called me." He went on, voice very firm. ""I was never really angry. I was
just scolding you as you've told me over and over that you like to be
scolded."
"Oh," Methos said, his voice shaking slightly, "I got confused."
"You got worse than confused, baby," Duncan said quietly. "You got
frightened. Frightened that you'd really made me angry, but even worse,
frightened that I was changing the rules in the middle of what you thought
was play. And that's not safe, not sane, and not consensual. We don't play
like that."
Methos shook his head, tension leaking out of his body that he hadn't even
known was there. He rested his head on Duncan's shoulder and took a deep
breath, more tears suddenly welling and spilling.
Gently, Duncan stroked down Methos' spine and caressed his blazing ass.
"It's not going to happen, love." he said, quietly, "I won't change the
rules. I won't pull the rug out from under you and frighten you out of your
wits." He stroked a finger along an angular cheekbone, wiping away tears
again, and continuing in the same soft, warm voice, "I'm not Kronos, baby."
Methos inhaled sharply, and stared at Duncan, his eyes widening in shock,
more tears spilling. Duncan leaned over, kissed him, and went on, "Yeah, I
know that when we're playing and suddenly you think I'm really angry, you're
back in Kronos confusion-land, and it damn well terrifies you."
Methos nodded, curling into Duncan's arms, under the afghan, the sobs
starting to quiet. He reached out a hand to touch Duncan's face. "But this
is you," Methos said, "not him, not him, not him . ..not ever him again."
"No," Duncan said, very gently. "Not ever him again. I killed him.
Sometimes I wish I'd killed him slowly." He went on, his voice wry and
sardonic. "And sometimes I wish we didn't continually share our bedroom with
that blasted mother-fucker."
Methos started laughing, helplessly, "Gods, Duncan I'm sorry." Duncan
laughed with him for several moments, still stroking Methos' blazing hot ass.
Methos squirmed against him, still laughing.
"It's all right. I can deal," Duncan said quietly, holding Methos, tightly,
stroking him, smiling as the other man laughed and came out of his sobbing
upset. Smiling even more as Methos cock hardened again against him. "Now,
do you want to hang this up and go to bed? Or back to play?"
Methos thought. Duncan was stroking his still-blazing ass. He was hard as a
rock and still drifting in subspace. He rested in Duncan's arms's for
several moments, letting go of Kronos memories, banishing him from their
bedroom, and stretched out with a slow, lazy grin. "Back to play," he
decided.
Duncan chuckled. "Play it is," he said, lovingly. "And, baby, I'm very
proud of you of you for safe-wording."
Methos peeked up at him with mischievous eyes. "Does that get me excused
from spanking number two?" he asked brightly.
Duncan considered. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "considering the amount of
sobbing anguish, I'm almost but not quite willing to consider that as
spankings one and two. But, no, I don't *think* so. I wouldn't want to spoil
your fun."
"Fun," Methos sputtered indignantly. "Fun-"
Duncan stroked Methos' very hard cock and grinned. "Uh huh. Fun. And I
think time-out is over. Spanking number two coming right up." Duncan
pulled Methos to his feet as the other man protested, led him around the
couch, bent him over the arm of the sofa, pulled his jeans and boxers down to
the middle of his thighs, and looked appreciatively at the sight in front of
him.
"Oh, my," Duncan said. "How very pretty. One fish-belly white ass, turned
almost crimson red from the top of your pretty round ass to your thighs. Now
you stay right there with your pants down and your ass up while I get
something to drink and, maybe, if you ask very nicely, I'll let you drink,
too." Duncan stroked a lazy fingernail up Methos' blistered ass as the other
man whimpered and squirmed, then went into the kitchen. He poured a triple
single malt Scotch and a large glass of ice water.
Methos lay over the arm of the sofa, bare ass high in the air, turning what
felt like seventeen different shades of red from scalp to stomach. He
couldn't even imagine how red his ass was. It burned and throbbed and flamed
with every breath he took. Briefly, he considered stopping the whole process
of breathing, but knew he would just pass out and start breathing again and
that Duncan would just be annoyed. He took a deep breath instead and tried
to will himself past the pain in his blazing buttocks.
Duncan returned. "Are you thirsty, little punished pet of mine?" he asked
indulgently.
Methos nodded, his throat dry and parched. Duncan gently stroked the
brown-black hair, raised Methos' face with a hand under his forehead, moved
the hand to under his chin to support it, and held the water glass to his
lips. The older man drank deeply and gratefully. Duncan then held the
Scotch to his mouth and Methos took three happy swallows and then sank his
face back to the cushions of the couch.
Duncan looked at his lover thoughtfully and picked up the acrylic switch that
Amanda had sent to them. Methos turned his head, watched him pick it up and
started pleading, "Oh, jesus, fuck, Duncan, NO. .. .I promise, I'll NEVER be
. . ."
Methos screamed as the switch lashed down at the junction of his thighs and
buttocks, and screamed again as it lashed down half an inch higher, screamed
several more times as it lashed down again and again and then suddenly he was
floating and flying. Endorphins charging in his brain, he was moaning and
moving his ass up to meet the switch, getting harder and harder.
Duncan smiled, lashing the switch down over and over, watching his lover take
off and fly as his bottom was welted. Methos whined and moaned, tears of
pain rising in his eyes even as he pushed his ass up to meet the switch. "Oh,
fuck, Duncan . . .hurts.. . .hurts. . .hurts.. .." He twisted and squirmed,
still flying and starting to float above the stratosphere.
"Yes, baby," Duncan said gently, smacking the switch down hard. three more
times into the junction of thighs and bottom. Methos screamed, high and
keening and collapsed bonelessly over the arm of the couch, half-sobbing,
half-panting, getting harder, writhing and squirming.
Duncan, picked up both floggers and then grabbed the other man by the arm,
pulling him up, pants still down, kissing him ruthlessly and steering over to
the bed. Methos stumbled halfway and Duncan paused looking at him carefully.
"Are you okay?"
Methos nodded eyes, wide pupils dilated. "Oh, fine. I'm in bliss land.
Play on. Please, play on. Please. . ."
Duncan smiled and put Methos on the bed ass up over a pillow.
"Third spanking, little one."
The suede flogger suddenly came stinging down over red and
burning bottom cheeks. Methos moaned and went flying beyond the
stratosphere. The flogger came down again and again as Methos
writhed and squirmed against the bedcovers. The Highlander
reached out suddenly and stripped off Methos' jeans and boxers, and
pushing the Henley high up on his back, leaving him naked from the
shoulder blades down. He moaned, flying even higher.
The silk flogger suddenly lashed down his back and then across his
stinging butt. Methos screamed, not from pain, but from pure
sensation, half out of his mind, bucking his ass up, wanting, wanting
. . .and . . .then as the soft lashes fell across his back again he felt a
lubed finger, gently squirmed up his ass. He gasped and pushed up
against it.
The lashes came down across his burning, stinging ass again and
another finger went up his ass. He pushed up against them, sighing
deeply. "OH, fucking gods, Duncan, FUCK ME. FUCK me. FUCK
ME blind," he sobbed out.
The silken lashes came down again and a silken voice ordered,
"Hold your cheeks open for me, baby. Hold them wide and spread
and open."
Methos balked. "Oh, fuck you . . . OHHHH . . ." he paused and
thought, blushing fifty shades of red and reached back and parted his
cheeks as he was told to.
Duncan smiled. "Oh, very nice. But even nicer if thoroughly
cleaned. Stay put."
Methos flushed again, trembled with unsatiated lust, and seethed
with annoyance at Duncan's sudden obsession with cleanliness as
the Scot headed for the bathroom. Duncan was back within
moments with wash cloths, cleaning the crevice and rinsing.
"Much better," Duncan said, with satisfaction.
"Fuck you,:" Methos said, vehemently, "OWWWWWWW." He
squirmed as Duncan swatted him on the ass with his hand and
started to sob as his hard cock rubbed against the covers on the bed.
"DUNCAN. OHHHHH .. .GODS . . ."
Duncan stroked first the suede flogger and then the silk one up the
inside of Methos' ass cheeks, and then lashed down first one and
then the other over and over, both on the inside of the crevice and
over the cheeks. Methos moaned. "Oh, gods . . .oh, gods . . .oh,
gods . . ."
A lubed finger went up into his ass again, exploring and stretching,
as the floggers kept stroking and teasing. Methos gasped hard and
went tense and ready. "Oh gods, Duncan, fuck ME, NOW!"
Duncan chuckled and slipped another lubed finger went in. Methos
gasped again and rode the fingers, thrusting himself up and down.
He sighed when yet a third finger joined the other two and
insistently pushed up on all three. "Goddamm you, Duncan, FUCK
ME!" he demanded.
Duncan grinned, pulled all three fingers out and pushed Methos
over onto the bed, sore ass down on the mattress. Duncan grinned as
the other man winced as his sore ass made contact. Pushing Methos'
legs up and wide apart, Duncan put his cock at the opening to the
other man's ass and thrust in deep and hard. A lubed hand went
around Methos' cock, and a lubed thumb went inside his foreskin,
rubbing around the top of his cock.
Duncan paused suddenly, cock still inside of Methos, hand still.
"Oh," he asked innocently, "is this what you wanted? By some wild
chance?"
Methos screamed and then choked out, "God damn you,
MACLEOD . . .I'll fucking KILL you!"
Duncan started laughing helplessly, almost unable to go on. Methos
stared at him, blankly for a second, and then started laughing, too.
"I'm not dead yet," he protested between gasps of laughter.
"Oh, shurrup, you big baby," Duncan laughed out. "You will be in a
minute ." He started thrusting in again, moving at a steady rhythm.
"You know," Methos said dreamily, pushing up to meet Duncan's
thrusts. "I'm not sure sane people quote Monty Python at each other
in the middle of fucking."
Duncan kept laughing as he stroked in harder. "And were you really
suffering from the delusion that we were *sane*?" He kept pushing
in harder, over and over, stroking Methos' cock in the same rhythm.
"Uh, don't think so," Methos gasped out. "OHHHH .. ..Don't stop.
Don't. . .OHHHH. . . . . OHHHH. . . . ."
Duncan grinned as Methos' cock started jerking spasmodically in
his hand. Then he moaned as Methos ass muscles tightened and
spasmed around his cock. Duncan breath caught sharply as he
started coming himself.
Methos gasped once and then went still, shuddering every few
moments with the aftershocks. His breath came out in sobbing
gasps.
Duncan rolled to his side, carrying Methos with him, still held
tightly in his arms. "Are you okay?" he panted out.
Methos chuckled faintly, "I don't know. Did you file a flight plan
with the FAA? For that matter, did you file a flight plan with
NASA? I seem to be in orbit. And I'm not sure I'm coming down
any time soon, now. Could you maybe tie a kite string to my big toe
to make sure I don't get lost?"
Duncan laughed, allowed himself to slide out of the other man,
ignoring the whimpering protests and reached for the wipes and
towels on the bedside table, cleaning them both off. He pulled
Methos up to the pillows at the head of the bed, gathering the covers
over both of them.
Methos cuddled in close, wrapping himself around Duncan with his
head on the other man's chest, still floating. "Duncan," he said
quietly.
"Yes?" Duncan responded sleepily.
"That fucking blue thing," Methos said in a languid, beguiling,
imploring voice, "that goes in the trash tomorrow, hmmm?"
"I don't *think* so," Duncan responded with a grin in his voice.
"Duncannn," Methos mock whined. He whispered very softly. "I'll
melt the fucker. OWW, goddammit."
Duncan swatted him once, hard, and then kissed him even harder.
"You're not bloody melting a present that we got from our darling
Amanda-Bells "
"Amander-Puff," Methos giggled out, still high and floating.
Duncan smiled and shook his head, looking at Methos' dilated pupils
and wondering how long it would be before he floated down low
enough to drift into sleep.
"And I know that you're teasing, my Methochu, but no harm is
coming to the blue implement. Hmmm?" Duncan's eyes closed for
a moment and he yawned. "Maybe we should name it."
"How about Eekowth?" Methos gasped out, still laughing.
Duncan started laughing too, gently stroking Methos' back. "And
call it Owth for short?"
"Works,"Methos said, finally yawning, and snuggling in sleepily.
Duncan sighed gratefully, shut his eyes and started to drowse.
A few moments passed. "Duncan?" Methos whispered quietly.
Duncan started awake. "Hmmm?"
"Let's do it all again . . .Duncan? DUNCAN! Do not *hurt* me. .
.OWW. . . .OWW . . .OWWW . . ." Methos subsided, giggling again
from his stomach where Duncan had rolled him in order to
thoroughly swat his sore ass again. "All right. All right. I'll be
good. I promise. I promise."
"If you keep me awake for five more minutes, we'll bloody well do
the first part of it again and stop right at the moment that I'm sure
you'll quietly cry yourself to sleep," Duncan grumbled, pulling
Methos into his arms again.
Methos grinned, quite sure his only semi-irate lover meant not one
word of it. "Duncan," he whispered again. Duncan opened his eyes
again and stared at the other man, a warning glint in them. "Thank
you, Duncan," Methos went on softly. "That was just fucking
wonderful."
Duncan smiled again. "And totally wonderful fucking, too," he
agreed. "You're welcome, baby. Now will you please, please,
please, please, *please* "
"G'night, Duncan. I love you," Methos kissed him gently, snuggled
in, closed his eyes, and was asleep within moments.
"And I love you, too," Duncan said with a voice full of wonder.
End.