Brad stood in front of the wardrobe mirror, frowning as he stared
at his reflection for
long moments. He was startled by Greg, who had sneaked up behind
him lightly
spanked his butt.
"Hey there, Captain Studmuffin," Greg quipped, leaning
his head over Brad's shoulder.
"Trying on clothes *after* the show?" Brad didn't
smile, shrugging Greg off and turning
away.
"It doesn't matter anyway, they all just make me look
fat," he whined, pulling off the
shirt he was wearing and tossing it aside. Greg pouted, reaching
out his arms and
clasping Brad's shoulders.
"Yes, it does matter, and I think those shirts make you look
hot." Greg massaged his
lover's shoulders, trying to ease the tension that was eating
away at him. He laid a
light kiss on the nape of Brad's neck, grinning devilishly when
he heard a sigh.
"You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend,"
he retorted halfheartedly,
finally submitting to the wonderful feeling of Greg's fingers
along his shoulder blades.
"I'm just saying that because it's true," he answered
simply. He spun Brad to face him,
seriousness reentering his eyes. "What's really bothering
you?"
"It's just..." he hesitated, not wanting to reveal
anything, but unable to lie to Greg's
face. "I want to try something new, you know? You go out to
that club every week,
and while you're there you can forget about who you're supposed
to be." Brad touched
Greg's face, tracing a line across his jaw. "You can be
whatever you want, and no one
cares."
Greg caught Brad's hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and
brushing a kiss in the
center of his palm. He searched for sincerity in those brown
eyes, and found it easily.
"Why didn't you tell me you felt that way?" Greg asked,
slightly hurt. Brad sighed
heavily.
"I didn't know what you'd think. I wasn't sure you'd want to
be seen in a place like that
with a..." Brad bit into his lower lip. "With a prissy
boy like me."
"Of course I'd want to be seen with you! How could you say
that?" Greg asked,
shocked. He'd never thought he might have given Brad a reason to
be insecure.
"But what about all those guys there?" he pressed.
"What about the girls!?" Brad's
eyes were wide with anxiety.
"What about them? If they've got anything to say, they can
say it. To hell with 'em!"
Greg backed up, a mischievous grin alighting his face. "I
want everyone to see my little
bitch."
"Hey, I thought you were the bitch in this
relationship!" Brad teased, relieved.
"Well, then that makes you the slut," he answered,
looking through the wardrobe as
Brad changed back into his street clothes. "If you think
you're up to it, then meet me
at the Dark Room, Friday night."
Brad popped out from behind the screen, looking like a sad puppy.
"You're not going to take me there?" he asked softly.
"You know I've got shows every night this week. I'll be at
the club by 10 o'clock
though, I promise. Even if I have to cut my set short." Greg
rushed over and hugged
Brad. "Be there at 10:30 and dress casual. You'll have a
great time."
Brad finally relented, smiling in spite of himself. He gave Greg
a quick kiss and
waved as he rushed off, probably already late for his first show.
A flutter ran up and
down Brad's spine, ending in his stomach, as he awaited the
coming week with
anticipation, and a little fear.
*********************************************************
As he sat in his car, Brad again tried to rationalize his reasons
for wanting to do this.
Obviously Greg was all for it, if the card he had sent was any
indication.
Brad looked again at the card he clutched tightly in his right
hand. The picture on the
front showed a man, naked and kneeling, back to the viewer. His
hands were tied
behind him and his eyes blindfolded. The image was stunning in
black and white.
When he'd opened it the previous morning, still standing in front
of his mail basket, his
breath had caught in his throat at the simple message:
Friday night,
your body is mine.
Whips and Kisses
'Proopdog'
Although he'd been eager to try something new, the little tinge
of fear Brad felt wouldn't
leave him. He swallowed it down, getting out of the car and
resolving to not make a
fool out of himself.
*Easier said than done,* he thought wearily as he approached a
tall, dark and rather
handsome bouncer. The man stood well over six foot five, and with
his bald head, lip
piercings and black trench coat, he made Brad feel suddenly
extremely small and
insignificant.
It didn't help that he'd come dressed in his usual retro bowling
shirt and black slacks
ensemble, and the taller man stared at him with a cold
indifference.
"Where you think you're going, pretty boy?" he asked
harshly, in a low, even tone. Brad
shuddered, but stood his ground.
"I'm here to see Greg. He invited me," came the meek
response, and Brad cursed
inwardly. After a moment of silence, the bouncer laughed aloud,
and Brad frowned.
"You'll have to do better than that," he growled, and
Brad shrank back like a turtle
hiding in his shell. Finally, he remembered the card.
"He gave this to me," Brad squeaked, handing over the
envelope. The man raised his
eyebrow as he read it, then grinned. He looked strangely like a
crocodile at that
moment, which intimidated Brad even more.
"Head on in then," he said, returning the card and
stepping aside. As Brad began to
descend the darkened stairs, he heard the booming laugh again.
"Be careful, and
watch that cute butt of yours."
As he walked down the stairs, the smell of cigarettes and cheap
perfume was
overpowering, and the dark atmosphere projected by the stark lack
of lighting fueled
his nervousness.
When he entered the room, the scene was enough to nearly blow him
away. In front
of him stood another man much like the bouncer upstairs, and he
seemed to be
blocking access to a door in the hallway behind him. The bar was
packed with a
variety of figures, some men, some women and some he couldn't
identify.
The decor could best be described as 'neo-gothic,' with
combinations of neon lights,
gargoyles and a leather and chain motif. The patrons at the bar,
and those at the
tables on the opposite wall, were mostly in a matching style, and
wild hair colors,
odd piercings and tattoos seemed to be the common trend.
Before he could go any further, Brad was approached by a tall man
wearing a leather
coat and pants. He felt anxious when the guy's sharp eyes gave
him a full once over.
"Hey cutey, you must be new," he hissed, running a
finger under Brad's chin. A
woman appeared at his side, her bright yellow hair glowing in the
blacklight. "Me and
my girl been looking for a piece of tail like you."
"No thanks, I'm all fat, no meat," he joked, trying to
hide the tremble in his voice and
not quite succeeding.
"Suit yourself," she replied, as he turned back to the
bar. Brad was surprised at how
easy that was to get out of. Apparently these people wouldn't
beat him up, no matter
how much tougher they looked than him.
"Damn stereotypes," he muttered, a bit of relief
settling in. Brad walked to the back
of the club, noting that there was a small stage in the far
corner. The opposite side
was jammed with plush and leather couches and loveseats, a large
glass coffeetable
in the center with a dragon ashtray on top.
And sitting on one of the couches was Greg. Brad held back the
urge to purr; his
lover was wearing a black silk shirt with a black satin vest,
spattered with a crimson
leopard pattern. He had on slate colored dress pants and polished
black shoes. He
was even wearing one of his older pairs of glasses, with the
black rims, that Brad liked.
Greg was just finishing his cigarette when he saw Brad. Of
course, in those clothes he
would have been hard to miss. He waved his friend over, patting
the cushion next to
him.
"Hey babe," Greg murmured, running a finger down the
front of Brad's shirt as he sat
down. Brad held back a soft moan, still a bit insecure in such a
crowded place.
"You're in a mood tonight. How'd the show go?" he
asked, as Greg waved over a
waitress and ordered drinks.
"They were a bunch of assholes, as usual. This place always
offers a nice level of
relief," he answered, smiling as the woman returned with two
odd looking drinks.
"Should they be smoking like this?" Brad asked warily,
staring at the concoction
before him. It was in a silver chalice, and appeared to be blue.
Steam caressed the
liquid's surface, but no heat emanated from the cup.
"It's an Azure Dream. It'll help you loosen up." Greg
sipped his own glass, a greenish
liquid with an umbrella sticking out of it. Brad scrunched up his
nose in distaste.
"I suppose it's better than drinking something green,"
he remarked, smelling his own
drink before taking a first sip. The cool liquid was surprisingly
sweet, and he took a
few more tastes eagerly.
"Hey, don't drink it too fast. Those things may taste good,
but they can come back to
haunt you," Greg warned, a hint of a smile on his face. Brad
closed the distance
between them, snuggling up alongside his lover and resting his
head on Greg's shoulder.
"You're in a mood too, I see," he whispered, and Brad
nodded with content. They
spent long moments there, finishing their drinks in silence. Brad
began to feel the hazy
glow and warmth he always got after his first drink. It was just
enough to relax him.
"Are you ready to go out back?" Greg asked finally, and
Brad looked up at him.
"Yeah, I think so," he answered with slightly more
confidence than he felt. Greg smiled
at him, running a hand through his hair and down his cheek.
"I think you are. I'll go on ahead and get ready. You follow
in five minutes." He kissed
Brad lightly, a hint of what was to come, and stood, finishing
his drink and walking out
to the other end of the bar, disappearing down the corridor. The
guy standing there
smiled over in Brad's direction, and he shifted impatiently.
*********************************************************
Those five minutes seemed like an eternity, but eventually the
clock was kind, and Brad
stood, shuffling over to the burly doorman. He smirked at Brad
before moving aside.
"I see Proopdog's got a keeper here," he commented,
turning Brad a lovely shade of
pink. Entering the room, he was met with soft candle light, and a
wooden table with
some clothes. A small note rested on top of the pile, and Brad
picked it up, reading it
to himself:
Put these on and go
through the curtain on the left. I'll be waiting.
-Greg XOXO
Eyeing the pile, Brad noted that the ensemble was exclusively
leather. When he'd
finished, he couldn't help but gape in the mirror that was there.
He was wearing a studded leather harness with a matching collar.
The chaps he had on
were surprisingly comfortable, but not having anything on
underneath them made him
nervous.
As he rounded the corner, he felt a distinct urge to cover
himself up. It wasn't like Greg
hadn't seen him naked before, and yet this time it seemed very
different.
He was met by another man, wearing leather pants and a full mask
with a mouth zipper.
The body was unfamiliar to Brad, and he suddenly tensed up. The
figure approached
him, holding a pair of handcuffs.
"Don't worry, the pup won't hurt you," came Greg's
familiar voice, although Brad
couldn't see him in the darkness. The figure cuffed Brad's
wrists, lifting his arms into the
air and attaching them to a chain that was hanging from the
ceiling.
"Who is he?" Brad asked, as Greg emerged from the
darkness. He shooed the man
away with his hand, watching Brad with amusement in his eyes.
"Just someone I invited in on the fun. He likes to watch.
Just call him 'Pup'." Greg
closed the distance between himself and Brad slowly, taking in
the vulnerable statement
on his lover's face, and admiring the view.
Brad also took notice, seeing that Greg had removed the vest and
changed his pants
into something more vinyl. His right hand was covered in a
leather glove, only his
fingers sticking out. He had kept the silk shirt on, which Brad
silently cheered. Silk was
his weakness, and Greg knew it.
When he finally reached Brad, Greg leaned in to kiss him,
effectively parting those
willing lips with his tongue. They tasted each other fully, the
longing from their week
apart making the taste that much sweeter. Simultaneously, Greg
began to massage
Brad's lower abdomen, just below the navel, in a circular motion.
When he finally backed off for air, Greg watched as Brad's face
flushed red. He smiled
and glided his fingers over Brad's chest.
"I see you've missed me," he commented nonchalantly.
"I've missed you too." He
wandered around to Brad's back, running his fingertips over
various areas of skin he
knew were particularly sensitive. He finally stopped the
tormenting touches, grabbing
onto Brad's firm butt. The gasp he received made him smirk.
He kneaded the skin between his fingers, feeling the smoothness
for himself. He traced
lines along Brad's thighs with his fingertips while his tongue
and teeth caressed the soft
spot between theshoulder blades. Greg pushed himself close; the
only thing separating
them was his gloved hand as he explored the area between Brad's
tense muscles. He
stopped over the cleft of skin there, teasing the tight opening.
"When do I get to touch you?" Brad whined softly,
squirming a bit as his arms began
to get sore. Greg backed away, waving the masked figure over
again.
"Did I say you could talk?" Greg asked as he rounded
Brad and reached out his hand.
The man placed a small cat-o-nine tails in his palm and stood
back. "Disobedience
gets you a spanking."
"I'm sorry..." Brad murmured, pouting. Greg smiled
back, leaning over to whisper in
Brad's ear.
"Is this what you want?" he asked, giving his less
experienced lover a final chance to
back down. "I won't hurt you...much." There was a
sultry edge in Greg's voice, and
it made Brad's heart race.
"Yes, I want this," he breathed, and was immediately
aware of Greg's presence once
again in front of him. Greg ran the edge of the small whip along
the inside of Brad's
thighs and across his hips, letting the leather straps linger
over his erection. In a
heartbeat be was behind Brad, and with one motion, Greg brought
the straps across
Brad's backside.
It was a light tap at first, but with each swing the force
increased, until he began to
feel a sting along his hips and rear. The incredible part was
that Brad became more
aroused with each passing moment.
"Take over, Pup," Greg instructed, stopping only long
enough to hand the whip over
to the masked observer before coming around in front of Brad. He
noted with
satisfaction that Brad's face was a full red now, his eyes only
partly opened and
glazed and his lips swollen and parted as he breathed quickly.
Greg took the chance
to nip at his lower lip, grabbing Brad's firm shaft and pumping
him in a slow, even
rhythm.
For every hit of the whip, Greg stroked once, pulling his mouth
away whenever Brad
tried to lean in closer. The frustrated groans he received
delighted him as he licked
and nipped his way along the inside of Brad's neck, using his
free hand to tease the
nipples to diamond hardness.
It wasn't until Brad began to whimper that Greg finally pushed
himself closer, covering
Brad's mouth with his own. Their tongues dueled as Greg began
stroking him faster,
finally waving off his assistant. When he pulled back a last
time, he could see the
longing in those brown eyes clearly, and he didn't have the heart
to refuse him
anymore.
Greg reached up, undoing the chain that locked Brad's arms above
him, and was
greeted with warm fingertips along his face. The passion in
Brad's eyes communicated
to his hands as he undid the buttons on Greg's shirt, nearly
tearing them apart in his
eagerness to reach his chest.
Greg quickly slipped out of his shirt, and pulled Brad's cuffed
hands over his head,
effectively bringing them together. They continued to trade deep
kisses while Brad
tugged at Greg's pants. Greg stopped him by kneeling down, taking
Brad's full length
into his mouth.
Brad hissed with the exquisite sensation, the mix of pain and
pleasure making him
dizzy. He ran his hands through Greg's hair, panting as he neared
the edge. Greg felt
the trembling in his lover's legs and quickened his pace, taking
him repeatedly.
A long moan escaped Brad's mouth as he came into Greg's throat.
Greg swallowed
the salty liquid, teasing the sensitive tip with his tongue and
delighting in the whimpers
of pleasure he received in response.
Greg rose to his feet, pulling Brad in for a lingering kiss, that
tasted of his own release.
When he pulled back, Greg realized that the onlooker already had
a leash in his hand.
He nodded, taking the chain and hooking it to Brad's collar. The
figure then went to
work uncuffing Brad's wrists.
"These pants are definitely getting too damn tight,"
Greg complained, pulling the vinyl
pants down to reveal a full erection. Brad eyed him eagerly,
following obediently as
Greg tugged the leash downward, bringing the taller man to his
knees.
Brad took the hard length into his mouth, working slowly until he
could take it all in
comfortably. He brought down just a hint of teeth when he pulled
away, causing Greg
to roll his eyes back and gasp with pleasure. Brad brought one
hand to hold firmly
onto Greg's hips, caressing his testicles with the other.
"Jesus you're good," Greg managed through gritted
teeth, his breathing becoming more
shallow with every pass of Brad's mouth over him. The mix of
teeth and tongue was
driving him wild with ecstasy, the occasional moan escaping with
the sighs as he pushed
Brad's head down, thrusting his hips.
Brad could feel the tremble in Greg's thighs, and when he pulled
away he saw the
telltale crimson stain on his lover's cheeks, neck and chest. He
felt a tug on his collar,
and was pulled up to meet with those loving eyes. Their tongues
entwined, hot breath
caressing their faces as Greg ran his hands up and down Brad's
arms.
"I need to be inside of you," he panted, "right
now." His words were followed by
immediate action as he pushed Brad to all fours, coming around
and kneeling down
behind him. Bracing himself with his gloved hand, Greg wet his
first two fingers and
slowly eased them one at a time into the tight passage.
Brad sucked in a sudden breath, his body tensing up. Greg began
to massage his
lover's hips with his free hand, placing light kisses and tracing
lines with his tongue
along the small of Brad's back.
Slowly the shivering subsided, as Brad began to ease under the
ministering hands, his
breathing becoming more even. In his daze, he barely noticed that
the other man had
unzipped the mouth of his mask and was now on his knees. He
nipped playfully at
Brad's lower lip, daring him for a kiss.
"Go ahead, I know you want him," Greg responded, a hint
of teasing pleasure in his
voice. Brad had to admit he was right; the smooth chest,
glistening with perspiration,
was extremely inviting, and the urge to touch it was haunting
him. Of course, in his
current state, it wouldn't take much.
When the figure leaned in again, Brad forced his head out to meet
him, tugging the
leash to its end. The taste that hit him when their lips met was
something new; he could
feel the energy there, a desire unlike anything he'd felt in
years. The youth seemed to
revitalize him.
The growing passion was making him hard again, a fact that Greg
took notice of
almost immediately as he wrapped his fingers around Brad's
pulsing shaft, slowly
pumping as he eased his own length into the tight passage.
The fleeting pain was washed beneath every other sensation, as
Brad lost himself in
the rhythm of pleasure around him. He reached out with one hand,
caressing the hot
skin of the younger man, pinching the erect nipples before
working down to the bulge
in his tight pants.
A small moan of frustration escaped the young man as he struggled
to remove the
increasingly confining clothing. In one swift movement he was in
a sitting position,
knees apart as Brad reached eagerly for him, taking the thick
member into his mouth.
The sounds of moaning and gasping were intoxicating, as each of
the men quickened
his pace. Greg pushed himself deep and hard into Brad, stroking
him with trembling
hands as the tight confines of the hot passage drove him to
increasing heights.
Brad could feel a rising wave of ecstasy so keen it threatened to
shatter him. He
could feel himself loosing control as he pushed his head down
faster, receiving gasps
with every pass of teeth over the other man. Sweat glistened
along his forehead, and
he pulled back just in time to see the release spread out over
the other man's chest.
The sight of the milky fluid, the back arching and the cries of
delight, were enough to
push Greg over the edge himself. He could feel the explosion that
accompanied the
bright flash behind his eyelids as he filled Brad with his
completion. He was followed
closely by his lover, who whimpered with sheer fulfillment as he
came over Greg's
hand and onto the floor.
The three of them remained there for a while, Greg resting on
Brad's back, all three
panting and sated. Finally the masked accomplice pulled off the
leather that was
clinging uncomfortably to his face. The feathery black hair fell
onto his forehead,
mingling with the sweat that lined his pale, feral features.
"Brad, I'd like you to meet Jeff Davis, although I think you
know him fairly well by
now." Greg's voice was filled with delighted mischief. Brad
stared at Jeff for a few
moments before finally recognizing him.
"You've been on the show, haven't you?" Brad asked,
dazed. He certainly wasn't
expecting to see someone from the show here; maybe just one of
Greg's bar buddies.
Jeff's smirk made him blush, and suddenly he felt very exposed.
"You were right, he's perfect. I envy you now," Jeff
sighed, rolling around to grab his
discarded pants. Brad looked at Greg with questions in his gaze,
and was met with
feigned innocence. "Yeah, Greg suggested I try out for the
show, and I got it," Jeff
turned back to Brad, sliding the leather back over his pale legs.
"I appreciate it too."
"No problem, I knew you'd be good for it," Greg
answered, as he too slid his pants
back on. Brad was growing increasingly uncomfortable, crouched on
the floor with
nothing to cover him. Greg finally relented to those puppy dog
eyes and fetched Brad's
clothes from the other room.
"Well, I gotta go, early morning tomorrow." Jeff finger
combed his raven hair, and ran
a finger over Brad's jawline as he passed. "You're cute. Too
bad you're taken, I could
use someone like you to keep me occupied." He winked at
Brad, smiling.
"He's my bitch, boy, so don't get any ideas," Greg
retorted playfully, and Jeff nodded
as he walked out, shaking Greg's hand as he passed.
"Lucky you."
*********************************************************
Brad stood in front of the wardrobe mirror, looking at his
reflection for long moments.
He smiled slightly, pleased at the result; the leather pants he
tried on looked quite nice,
if he had to admit it.
"Meow," came the sharp comment from behind him, and
Brad twirled to see Greg
eyeing him provocatively.
"Like them?" he asked, a hint of hesitation in his
voice. Greg strolled over, licking his
lips like a hungry wolf.
"As if you need to ask," he answered finally, reaching
his arms around Brad's waist.
"I hope you'll be wearing them more often."
"If that's what you want," Brad murmured, his eyes not
meeting Greg's. He could feel
tension, but he wasn't sure if it was coming from Greg, or if it
was his own anxiousness.
Either way, he felt he needed to be sure. "I just want to
know one thing."
"Anything, my little fluffy bunny." Greg squeezed his
lover, offering support when he
noticed Brad's reluctance to speak.
"How did you know? I mean, about me wanting Jeff?" Brad
looked at Greg, eager for
an answer.
"It was obvious when you saw him on the show that you wanted
him. I know that look
when I see it," he answered honestly, rubbing Brad's lower
back with his thumbs. Brad
blushed, turning away.
"You always could tell," he whispered. "I hope I
didn't hurt you. I mean..." Brad was
unable to put his feelings into words, and blew out a frustrated
breath. "I didn't mean to
make you think that I was unhappy with-" He was hushed by a
finger to his lips.
"Don't worry." Greg smiled at him sincerely.
"We're all human, you know. Besides, how
can a wolf expect to continue his legacy without training a
pup?" he grinned devilishly,
wiggling his eyebrows.
Brad sighed in relief. The one thing he didn't want to do was
hurt Greg, even if Greg did
put him into the situation in the first place. He gasped as Greg
nibbled at his earlobe,
subconsciously tightening his grip on Greg's arms.
"Please don't eat me Mr. Wolf!" Brad exclaimed in a
high pitched voice, jumping out of
Greg's grasp. Greg licked his chops, making a growling noise.
"What a big tongue you
have!"
"All the better to taste you with," he snarled. Brad
screeched, hopping around a row of
clothes and disappearing behind a shirt rack. Greg stalked after
him. "Come here, so I
can huff and puff and blow you." Brad giggled, revealing his
position.
They ran about the room for a few minutes, Greg chasing Brad,
until he finally stumbled.
Greg took the advantage and tackled him.
"Eeeek!" Brad screamed, struggling for a moment, until
Greg ran his tongue along the
crook of his neck. "Now I know why you like these pants.
They make escape
impossible!"
"You want to escape?" he asked, reaching down to rub
the increasing bulge beneath the
leather. The moan he received in response was enough of an
answer. They began
kissing, touching and exploring each other to find the growing
passion they both felt.
"And you guys bug Ryan and me about this!" Colin
scolded, standing over the pair.
They both jolted, startled, but made no effort to get up and
pretend like they hadn't
been caught. Greg sneered, while Brad turned a lovely shade of
red.
"Ha ha, very funny. You two aren't exactly models of
restraint yourselves," Greg
pointed out, but Colin only smirked back.
"We don't do it in the wardrobe room, or anywhere else in
the studio, for that matter.
You boys need to learn the subtleties of body language."
Colin stepped around them,
grabbing a shirt off the rack.
"Yeah, your body language on stage is about as subtle as a
speeding freight train."
Brad chuckled at that, although he was still extremely pink with
embarrassment. Colin
shook his head, heading for the door.
"I'll leave you two alone, but someone's bound to come back
here in a few minutes.
You're on your own if it's Drew or Dan."
"Thanks Dad!" Brad called, earning a smile from Greg.
Colin rolled his eyes and left.
"So, where were we, my prey?" Greg asked, turning back
to the task at hand. Brad
reached up, undoing the buttons on Greg's shirt.
"I think I was about to submit to your wills, oh mighty
predator," he replied, kissing
Greg's chest as he pulled back the fabric.
"Yeah, I thought so too." The two embraced in a hungry
kiss, forgetting where they
were. For some reason, it just seemed unimportant at that moment.
END
*******************************