Hank remembered there was a name for this kinda thing, when you started thinking the people who kept you prisoner weren't half-bad after all. Damned if he could remember exactly what they called it, but he figured they'd tell him afterwards, if he ever got off of this rock. Right after they court-martialed him for wanting to fuck the enemy.
Of course, even if Ian felt the same way, he hadn't said anything since arriving at Hank's door early that morning to take him to class. Hank couldn't shake the feeling that the young guard had something up his sleeve, if he wore sleeves, and that current outfit didn't include them at the moment, the snug black vest showing off Ian's well-toned arms.
"With the Choosing time almost upon us, Mistress Vanessa is holding a session on contracts for the trainees. She said we were welcome to attend," Ian explained as he led the way through the halls to the classroom.
And for once, it actually looked like a classroom: there were no fluffy pillows anywhere, nor any weird pseudo-gym equipment, not even a soft carpet for kneeling. Instead short tables and chairs lined the room, facing a podium in front of a currently blank wall, but at this point, Hank knew any wall also doubled as a computer terminal. Most of the chairs were taken up by trainees, and for once, Hank saw a mix of subs and doms. It reminded him of grade school, how the girls kept to one side of the playground, and the boys the other.
He took a seat in the back, leaving Ian to his normal guard post at the entranceway. The others glanced at him and whispered to each other, but they had been doing that since he'd started showing up in classes. So far none had been bold enough to actually talk to him, unless they'd been told not too. Hank hadn't anticipated that, but it seemed in keeping with the rigid rule structure of this place.
Mistress Vanessa entered shortly after his arrival, and immediately dropped into a lecture about contracts so complex he thought he was back in officer school. Although apparently this wasn't the first time everyone else had seen this stuff, since she referred to everything as a review and all the other trainees nodded their heads at appropriate times. He'd just about given up understanding anything at all when she ordered the class to split into groups of one sub and one dom to work on a fictitious contract.
Ian slid into the empty seat next to him. "I'll be your partner for this."
"Well, I sure hope you know what you're doing," Hank said.
Ian tapped the desk and the surface rippled into a screen with text scrolled across it. "I have negotiated a contract or two." He sat back and pulled at the front of the table, revealed a drawer with several styli, he took one for himself and gave the second to Hank.
"But you don't have a sub now?" Hank twirled the stylus between his fingers.
Ian stilled. "The contracts were short term."
Yeah, that was an awkward line of conversation. Hank tried to change the subject. "So what should I know here?" He tapped the desk. "She talked like everyone had seen these already."
"Well, most contracts are built on a standard template." Ian tapped the screen with his stylus, cycled through different text, different contracts Hank saw. "The main differences are in the time frame specified and the variation of the contract – whether it's for sexual services, domestic services, or even labor. Some cover all three. This is a short term contract."
At the top, underneath spaces for the name of the sub and dom, there was a section denoting collar color. This one had only three colors available: blue, red, and green.
"Red is what that guy at the palace had on." Hank remembered the name, he just refrained from using it.
"You haven't been trained to be red-banded. Not for green either. Those both refer to specializations. Your only option is blue, which is specifically to denote a temporary relationship."
"How temporary is temporary?"
"It can be for as short as one night, up to a period of five years, but no longer than that."
"Five years is one hell of a long time for temporary," Hank grumbled.
Ian's lips twitched as he kept from smiling. Hank remembered those lips on his and he shifted in his seat to avoid looking at the other man. "Let's just say one night for this contract, all right?" Ian marked the appropriate place. "The most important part is the very first option, what you will absolutely not accept from any dom. Those are your hard limits. Older subs will have that information on file, but you don't. And since you're very new, you should use the checklist as opposed to listing them yourself."
That sounded good, since Hank had no idea what to include here. He used the stylus, mimicking the way Ian had moved it to get the page to scroll down, flipping through a listing of sexual acts so descriptive and exhaustive that Hank wondered how anyone had time for anything else. "I don't even know what some of these things are," he gasped, pointing to 'figging'.
"Maybe we'd better start with the second section, things you absolutely must have. We can default everything else to no."
Hank spent the next half hour flipping through the lists, checking every sexual act that he had enjoyed in the past – nipple play? Sure! Anal sex? Oh yeah! Toe-licking? Not so much.
After that he filled in his list of "no way Jose" which included cutting (ew!), other bodily fluid play (double ew!) and body modification (what did that mean anyway?). He put a maybe next to the bondage section. Hank once tied a girlfriend to the bed, back when he was 19 and willing to do stupid shit to prove his manhood, and he remembered how she had gotten off on it, unable to move while he pushed all her buttons just the right way. He squirmed in the wooden chair, maybe he liked the idea too much.
That reminded him to make sure he checked the "no way" box under whipping. He hadn't liked that experience at all.
"Now what's this part?" Hank pointed to the next section of the contract, after he had finally made his way through the pages and pages of the checklist.
"This is for the dom to fill out." Ian reached over with his stylus. "What he expects of his sub, for example being shaven at all times. Also, what he pledges in return, making sure his sub is well taken care of. This is only a temporary contract though, so daily care isn't covered here."
Hank watched, bewildered, as Ian filled in several of the columns, the stylus all but flying across the screen. He guessed Ian had had his preferences figured out long before working on this contract.
"Now what?" Hank asked when Ian sat back.
"You read my terms and let me know if you agree."
Hank leaned over to read. Ian's script had been converted to an easily readable type, so the only trouble he had was wrapping his mind around filling out a contract in order to have a one-night stand. He didn't see anything in the list of demands that bothered him, and the pledges of care afterwards were a nice touch. "Looks good to me."
Ian's hand shot out and covered Hank's where it rested on the table, holding it against the dark wood. His thumb caressed the soft web of skin, sending a shiver down Hank's spine. "Will you?" he whispered, so no one else could hear. Hank had to lean closer to make out the words. "Will you submit to me tonight?"
"I," Hank started, but he didn't know what to say. His body really wanted him to say yes, his dick strained against the fabric of his pants and his shirt wasn't long enough to hide it. Ever since Ian started tutoring him, things had gotten complicated between them. In ordinary circumstances, Hank would have just fucked him and got it out of their systems. Here, everything needed to be filled out in triplicate before you could even get to that stage. "You know this is a horrible idea."
"I only ask for one night."
How often had Ian done this? Hank wondered, remembering how he referenced to being experienced in contracts. There was a darn good reason Ian's father had lectured him about settling down. "Holy shit, you brought me to meet your family. Ian…"
"Just one night," Ian insisted, gazing at Hank with those inscrutable dark eyes.
Fine, Hank mentally threw at his dick, I'll listen to you just this once. "Yes," he said.
Ian handed him the stylus. "Sign the contract."
Hank took the slim pen, then looked back down on the screen. Last chance to back out, he thought, then scrawled his name on the line provided.
The tram stopped its movement; though it was hard enough to tell it had done so, the things moved too smooth to be natural. Hank still marveled that they had let him get on one by himself, but the thing had showed up at the balcony to his little prison room to take him to Ian's residence. When the doors slid open, Hank understood why they weren't afraid of him running, it hovered just outside yet another balcony entrance, this was probably Ian's place. He lived in a tall tower just like the Schola.
Hank stepped foot on the glittering stone, the doors to the tram sliding shut behind him before the thing was off flying over the city again. No way he could back out now, not that he could back out once he had put his name on that damn contract.
"Henry," Ian said, stepping out from behind the set of paneled glass doors that separated the balcony from the rest of his place. He wore a long blue robe that shimmered as he moved.
"You know," Hank said, "My friends call me Hank." Weird that a lover-to-be was not calling him by his nickname.
Ian made a face at that. "Hank. I don't like how it rolls off of the tongue. But Henry," and here he leaned forward, his words a whisper against Hank's cheek. "That has potential. Henry."
Hank shivered. He never thought he would get off on someone saying his real name, but something in the way Ian spoke, the reverence in his voice just made the word seem to come alive. "Ok, sure. What do I call you?"
"For tonight?" Ian stepped back and threw him a grin. "Tonight it's 'Master' or 'sir.'"
That should not have gone immediately to his groin like that. Hank didn't think he was the type to get off on being told what to do, he never had before, but for some reason this place was infecting him, making him desire things he had never wanted before. He licked his lips, his mouth was suddenly too dry. "Yeah, ok."
"Come inside." Ian held the door open.
Of course the bedroom was immediately beyond the glass doors. A huge bed took up the center of the room, and it made Hank wonder exactly how many Subs had Ian had back here. The headboard and baseboard had tons of slats and more than a few hooks, showing this bed was more than for sleeping. Otherwise everything else seemed normal, a long silvery green curtain hung over one wall, a dresser and an end table, both in the rich dark wood made up the other furniture in the room, both of them covered with a selection of white candles already lit. Hank could smell the spice coming from them, something like vanilla and licorice.
He took a step inside, and the floor gave against his feet like nothing he had ever felt before, somehow soft like a carpet, yet smooth like a floor. If he had to spend time on his knees, this had to be the perfect surface.
Ian's hands touched his shoulders and he stilled, frozen for a moment as he realized the guard was removing the training collar, which he placed on the tall dresser. "Tonight you'll be wearing the blue," Ian pulled one out from the same place. "Once it goes on, we begin. Do you have any questions?"
Hank stuttered out a laugh. "I think it's a little late for that."
"It's never too late for that," Ian said sternly. "It's not even too late to back out."
"I think you'd punch me if I backed out now."
"No." Ian grinned. "Though I certainly would not be happy at all."
"Then, no, I don't have any questions. And I don't want to back out." Hank decided to man up and take his medicine. He'd signed the contract and if this was the only way he'd get to have Ian, then he'd take it.
"Good," Ian leaned forward and bit gently at Hank's lower lip. Hank opened his mouth and tried to advance the kiss, only for Ian to draw away and cover Hank's lips with his thumb. "Patience. Remember who commands tonight. Strip."
Right, Hank thought, he had to have patience. He wasn't sure how long that was gonna last once his clothes came off, but he'd go with it. Hank shrugged off the borrowed clothes, the ones Ian had picked out for him in the first place, and kicked off the sandals. The floor was just as soft as he imagined, scrunching his toes against the fabric.
"You'll get them back tomorrow." Ian took the clothes and dropped them in a drawer. "Standing, presentation." Ian snapped out the last like an order and Hank dropped into the position, spreading his legs, standing tall, with his hands clasped behind his neck. Ian circled him, running one hand along his flank as if inspecting his property. Hank had to hold back the shiver at that thought, moving at this point would break discipline far too quickly.
"You shaved," Ian said softly, one hand rolling Hank's smooth balls.
Now Hank had to shudder. "You asked me to," he gasped out, closing his eyes against the sensation. His dick strained against his belly, already to full hardness.
Ian nodded. Hank wondered if it wasn't a test, to make sure Hank had read through the particulars of the contract and done his part. It hadn't been easy, having to ask one of the other guards for the proper materials to do the job, although once he got them, the hair had come off smoothly. He just didn't want to the think about the itching he was in store for tomorrow!
"Will you pledge to obey me as your master for as long as this collar circles your neck?" Ian asked, holding out the blue collar he had pulled from his dresser.
"Yes," Hank answered simply.
Ian touched the leather to Hank's lips for a moment, then slipped the collar around Hank's neck.. Hank swallowed, feeling the weight around his throat. Somehow it felt different than the training collar, wider and tighter against his skin.
"There," Ian breathed, running his fingers down Hank's chest, tweaking his nipples before moving down, so slowly, a whisper of touches against his abdomen. Hank struggled to remain still. "I want you to speak your mind tonight. Don't be afraid of saying the wrong thing, as long as you obey."
Those fingers continued to trace their way along Hank's body, a slow exploration, as if Ian lazily inspected his property. Hank could smell Ian, sweat and musk and licorice, and he wanted to bend down and lick the skin revealed at the collar of his robe, to see if Ian tasted as good as his scent. "I want to taste you," he blurted, his mouth running ahead again.
Ian chuckled, his laughter deeper than Hank had ever heard it. One hand moved to circle Hank's dick, just holding the base between thumb and forefinger. "You'll get your chance." He pulled something from the pocket of that robe and slipped it over Hank's cock and balls. The metal was a shock at first, causing Hank to suck in his stomach, and then he groaned as it tightened around the base, replacing Ian's fingers.
"I thought about what I would do to you," Ian whispered, stepping back to unbelt his robe and letting it fall from his shoulders. "If I should make you come again and again, until just the thought of getting hard once more made you beg me to let you go."
Hank couldn't help but groan at that. He didn't doubt it, these people had thought of everything, they must have something to do that to a guy, make him orgasm past his limit. "Holy fuck," he whispered.
"You have a filthy mouth," Ian said. "I like it."
Stars, his verbal diarrhea turned the guy on. Well, Hank thought, there was a first time for everything.
"I decided," Ian said, dropping the robe to the floor, revealing his nude body for the first time. Hank let his eyes wander, looking hungrily at those muscled arms, that ripped abdomen, and that scarlet cock, rising out of a nest of dark golden curls. He wanted to touch it, see if it felt as smooth as it looked, trace his fingers around the head and taste the droplet of pre-come. "To make you wait, until you are dripping and begging for it, until you can't go another moment without coming. And only then will I let you."
"Where were you hiding that dirty mouth?" Hank whispered.
Ian smirked. "This is only the beginning." He moved away and Hank felt the lack, missing Ian's regard on him. He felt alone, standing there, bare with his dick constrained and body just waiting to be used.
All too soon Ian returned from his trek to the dresser, holding what looked like chains in his hands. He clipped the chains to Hank's chest, a clamp on each nipple, the bite of each causing Hank to cry out. "If you were mine for more than a night," Ian said, "I'll pierce your nipples, so you'd always have chains on you." A slim silver chain linked the two clamps together and Ian pulled on it, stretching Hank's nipples till the pain grew nearly unbearable.
"Fuck you're kinky."
Ian attached a third chain from the clamps to the ring around Hank's cock and Hank realized he had jumped the gun with that statement a bit. "I suppose. Ropes were always far more popular, but there is nothing like the feel of cold steel against your body." His hands were on Hank again, following the path of the links, pressing the metal against Hank's body. "Or how they look against your skin. Beautiful."
Hank could feel the flush rising in his cheeks, his body heating up at the sensations Ian created with only his words and the bite of the clamps against Hank's nipples. Ian kept his hands firmly attached to Hank's skin, fingers exploring every little divot and freckle, as if Hank would be incomplete without Ian touching him.
"Of course, they also have another bonus," Ian breathed his words across one nipple, and if that wasn't enough to make Hank moan and squirm, the vibrations that followed were.
"Damn it," Hank swore, hips jerking against the sensation. He nearly lost it, almost moved out of position to place his hands on his aching dick – everything throbbed, his nipples were overloaded with pleasure to the point of pain and his cock twitched.
"Don't move," Ian snapped the order out.
Hank stilled, gritting his teeth against the need, against the tiny machines having their way with his body. He met Ian's eyes and held that gaze just as he held his body still, meeting the challenge.
With a bitten off laugh, Ian snapped his fingers and the vibrations dialed down a bit, still very much present, but now more of a tingle than an overwhelming pulsing sensation. Hank let out a relieved breath, but he didn't shift his position, not even when Ian started to circle him again.
"Hands behind your back," Ian said.
Hank obeyed, crossing his wrists just above his bare buttocks. And oh how weird it was to stand nearly 'at ease' while buck-naked. He shivered when Ian's finger stroked up one arm, the small hairs rising along his neck.
"You never give in," Ian said and he sounded almost awed. "When Mistress Albaney had you under her whip…"
Now that was a mood killer, Hank thought, almost grateful for the reprieve. Things were getting a bit too intense. "What?" he asked.
"She stopped the moment you finally gave in, when you stopped fighting, when you realized you didn't control the situation."
Hank growled in his throat, angry at the realization that his entire ordeal could have ended sooner if he had only known that. Although he doubted his collapse could have occurred any sooner. He was too darn stubborn for his own good.
"Hush," a slap against one ass cheek had him out of the memory. Ian pressed his lips against Hank's neck, just below the collar. "Just accept that I'm the one in control for tonight." He lapped at Hank's skin before biting down and sucking hard, sure to leave a bruise behind, something that would last far longer than one night. Hank closed his eyes and let himself feel, drawn into the sensation of Ian mouthing against his body, the soft tingle of the rings, all he had to do was keep feeling.
"Good boy," Ian whispered, sliding his hands over Hank's wrists. Before Hank could move, Ian had a pair of shackles there, binding Hank but good. "Kneel."
Hank dropped as ordered, and yeah, the floor gave against his knees, soft like foam, cushioning his fall. He could crawl on it for a while before feeling any discomfort.
Ian circled back around and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand stroking his cock with long lazy motions. The lack of foreskin to play with was slightly weird, Hank had heard they did that on the border, but he'd never actually slept with any guy who was cut. With his other hand, Ian gathered a droplet of pre-come and held it to Hank's lips. Hank opened his mouth and sucked the finger in, the taste exploding against his tongue, bitter and something else, like the licorice that flavored everything about Ian.
"Do you want it?" With his words Ian increased the vibrations from the clamps and Hank gasped, arching his back.
"Fuck yeah, wanna suck you down," Hank ground out. Then he wanted to jerk off until his dick was sore, but he didn't see any chance of that happening soon. He shuffled forward on his knees, until he was just between Ian's spread legs.
"Open your mouth." Ian guided his cock between Hank's lips.
The flavor he had gotten only a teasing taste of moments before filled his mouth, his tongue sliding against hot smooth skin. Before he could do more than take care with his teeth, Ian took hold of the back of Hank's hand and pulled him close and then away, controlling the motion, making Hank work his dick the way Ian wanted it. All Hank could do was hold on for the ride, enjoy the gasps that Ian let out, proving he wasn't unaffected by this, not by a long shot.
Ian let out a choked cry, just before pulling Hank off of his prick. His come seared Hank's chest, covering his skin in short arcs. Gasping for breath, he let one hand fall from Hank's hair, running his fingers through the mess, rubbing it into Hank's skin.
"You marking your territory?" Hank asked.
Ian laughed. "Just beginning to. Get on the bed, ass in the air."
The vibrations increased again. "How are you doing that?" Hank pushed himself to his feet, not easy when he wanted to curl into a ball and somehow stop the tingling sensation all down the front of his body.
Ian didn't answer, just waited, leaning back on his hands, his dick spent and curved onto one thigh. He looked totally debauched and Hank gave into the impulse to lean down and plant a kiss on those pouty lips. "I'm going, I'm going," he said as he pulled away, then eased onto the bed, his cheek to the pillow, ass in the air.
Once again, he felt Ian's hands on him, gentle yet firm, touching Hank's body like he owned it, like the way Hank thought long term lovers might touch each other. Ian slid fingers along Hank's crack, tapping against his hole "Have you ever been opened?"
"Opened, fucked, yeah, been there, done that." Hank turned his head as best he could, so he could see Ian, but couldn't make out the expression on his face.
"Mmm, not like this." Ian came back with slick fingers, sliding inside and finding that pleasure spot like he had radar.
Hank hissed and wiggled his ass, his body already overloaded. "C'mon man," he said, "I gotta, you gotta let me…"
"Not yet," a kiss pressed against his lower back and then the fingers were gone.
Before Hank could complain about that, something else probed at his entrance and he stilled. "What the hell is that?"
"Sometime to open you up until I'm ready again," Ian said, pushing the object further inside.
Hank could feel his muscles stretch and give around the thing; it felt huge inside of him. Unlike a cock, this wasn't flesh, it wouldn't bend to Hank's body, he had to make room for it. When Ian turned it on – he'd put a fucking vibrator inside Hank's ass – Hank jolted and nearly smacked his head against the front of the bed.
"God Damnit, fucking son of a bitch!" he bit out, letting out the string of obscenities in an attempt to regain control.
Ian's fingers smoothed a trail down his back. "Easy, you can take it. It won't get any harder than this."
Hank sucked in deep breaths, curling his fingers into fists. The sweet smell of the candles was all but gone, overtaken by the scent of sweat and musk and come. It made him want to grind his dick against the bed, to ride the sheets while that thing spasmed in his ass until he finally fucking came.
He could feel the wave crest, that feeling just before he came, when everything seemed a little too vivid, and the world narrowed to between his legs. But the wave never crashed, Hank was trapped, suspended in a haze, unable to push forward and just fucking come. "Please…" he gasped out.
The vibrator slid out of his ass, and he sighed in relief, only to moan when Ian filled him up again, this time with his cock. Finally, some skin-to-skin action, no more lying there and taking it while Ian just watched. Ian pressed up against Hank's buttocks, their skin slick with sweat, everything almost too slippery as Ian fucked into Hank's ass again and again.
"C'mon, fuck me," Hank moaned against the pillow. "Give it to me, fill my ass, c'mon…"
Ian gasped out something Hank couldn't make out, probably a swear or two as Hank clenched against his cock as best he could. He loved how it felt, sliding in and out, pure flesh, no more of these toys, no more bullshit. Fingers gripped his hips, so hard he knew he'd have bruises in the morning, dark spots in the shape of Ian's hands.
With one final deep thrust, Ian stilled, body flush against Hank's as he came, pouring himself inside Hank's body. Hank moaned in frustration, his dick heavy and swollen between his legs, desperate for some form of release. "Not even a reach around?" he gasped, aware how he well-fucked he sounded, voice all raspy and broken.
Ian pulled out and maneuvered Hank to his side, out of the leg cramping position on his knees, though Hank hadn't noticed until he moved and Ian slid behind him. He twitched as Ian fingered his ass, pushing in and out with the same rhythm as his cock had used moments before.
Lips caressed the shell of his ear. "I'll let you come under one condition."
"What now?" Hank moaned, turning his head.
"Beg your master," Ian hissed.
For a moment, Hank hesitated. He'd almost take the blue balls instead of giving in, just like that, giving over his orgasm and his will to this man. But Ian had asked him for this chance, and Hank had signed the contract in good conscience. And really, was "Master" any different than "Captain" or "Commander"?
Even so he had to wet his lips and draw a deep breath before he could speak. "Please. Master. Make me come. Please!"
Ian's fingers shifted, tapping the ring around Hank's cock, releasing it instantly. He stroked once, maybe twice, and that was all Hank needed. His back arched, he couldn't help the half-strangled shout that came out of his mouth as he came and came and came. His cock pulsed against Ian's grip, shockwaves of pleasure as his world became nothing but his dick.
"Easy," Ian soothed, releasing the shackles on Hank's wrists and running his hands all along Hank's arms, working out the muscle stiffness.
Hank buried his face in the pillow, his eyes watering. "Stars, that was fucking amazing."
Ian chuckled. "You were amazing."
He allowed them both a few moments respite, before Ian declared that they both needed to bathe. Hank grumbled but let himself be manhandled into another one of those ridiculous bathrooms. Ian had a huge shower, large enough to fit more than two people, although Hank really didn't want to know. Pale green tile sparkled in curved patterns, large blocks of it underneath his feet, to tiny mosaics on the wall inside the shower.
Ian touched the wall and warm water fell from the large showerhead in the center of the ceiling. Hank closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, still drained from that fucking amazing orgasm. He felt gentle hands on him as Ian carefully washed him with slick soap and then rinsed him clean. It should feel weird, he thought, to let something bathe him as if he were a child. But Ian didn't treat him like a child, those probing hands between his legs, the hose carefully inserted to clean him from inside and out was undoubtedly sexual. No, Ian cared for him as a dom cared for his sub.
Hank didn't question the lack of a wet spot when they finally made it back to bed. He dropped onto the mattress, tired down to his bones. Who knew that coming could take so much out of him? He didn't say anything when Ian spooned behind him, too tired to make jokes about being the little spoon, and he doubted the other man would have gotten it anyway.
"Sleep," Ian said, and he didn't have to tell Hank twice.
Later, Hank wasn't sure what woke him. The candles cast the room in a dim glow, the only source of light still too strong for his sleep-addled eyes. He blinked and sat up to find Ian sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching Hank as he slept. "Everything all right?" he asked, voice hushed in the darkness.
Ian nodded. "I want to try something, if you're willing."
"Most of your ideas have worked out so far." Hank grinned at him.
"Mmm," a slow smile spread across Ian's face. "Though you might not be fond of this one. I want to gag you and make you come."
Hank blinked, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I thought you got off on my smart ass comments."
Even in the faint light, Hank could see the blush on Ian's cheeks. Huh, he thought, that's the first time I embarrassed him.
"I want to hear what sounds you make when you can't use your words to hide," Ian said.
Well, fuck, Hank thought he was here to get laid, not psychoanalyzed. "I don't hide," he protested, ignoring Ian's raised eyebrow. "And fine, sure, let's try it."
Ian pulled out a gag from behind him, like the one that had been forced into Hank's mouth during his punishment. "I won't lock it," Ian said, as if aware Hank might have some unpleasant memories at seeing one of those.
Hank took a deep breath, he had already agreed after all. "All right. You'll take it off once I've come?"
"Promise," Ian said.
Hank opened his mouth and let Ian fit the ball between his teeth, before buckling the gag around his head. Ian pushed him back, so Hank lay flat on the bed, taking Hank's wrists in his and pressing them to the headboard. "Hold on. I'll chain you if I must, but I think you're too stubborn to disobey."
Hank snorted at that, prevented from answering from the ball in his mouth. He curled his fingers around the slats of the headboard, testing his grip, it would only tire him out if he held on too tightly at the start.
Ian smiled as he backed away, pulling the covers off of Hank's body, leaving them bunched up at the end of the bed. He slid his hands up Hank's legs, again with that strange compulsion to touch everywhere, to be sure Hank's skin never knew what it was to be without Ian's hands on him.
Hank squirmed under the caress, arching up when Ian tweaked his nipples. The clamps had come off before the shower, but he knew he would be sore and aching for days afterward. Ian's pinch was just this side of painful, but his body reacted to the stimulation and his dick hardened, swelling with each stroke of Ian's hands. He never even had to touch Hank's cock to get it to stand up and say hi.
He had to breathe through his nose with the gag like this, but Hank found he liked being able to bite into something, since he couldn't speak, it was the only way to deal with the plying of his body. Hank sucked in great breaths of air, tinged with the candles' scent but more and more of Ian's scent, his musk and arousal. Hank did that to him, made Ian hard and turned on, with nothing more than his bare body, splayed for Ian to play with.
When Ian moved to lie between Hank's spread legs and licked a strip up Hank's dick, he nearly lost his grip on the headboard. He groaned against the gag, the sound coming from deep within his throat. Gagged like this, Hank couldn't beg for more, he couldn't complain or tease Ian about his technique. He could only moan and whimper and hope Ian gave him more.
Ian didn't disappoint. With one hand around the base of Hank's cock, he slid his lips down the length, from crown to root, taking Hank deep down his throat. Hank would've shouted if he could have, instead some weird strangled noise emerged from his mouth. He gripped the headboard harder, reminding himself not to move, not to give in and just grab at Ian's head and guide the man into the rhythm he wanted.
As if on queue, Ian began to move, bobbing his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks and sucking for all he was worth. Fuck, Hank thought, maybe all the training was worth it, if these guys learned to give blowjobs like that.
Ian's fingers brushed Hank's balls, so sensitive now after being shaved and Hank cried out again, once again swept up in sensation. His moaning and grunting grew louder the closer he got to coming, and he threw his head back, feet digging into the mattress.
"You can come," Ian pulled off long enough to say, then he was right back to licking and sucking and just tormenting Hank's dick.
The whimper emerged almost against Hank's will, sounding like he was in pain as he came, wave after wave into Ian's mouth. No, Hank thought, he would not have made that sound if he hadn't been gagged. He also wouldn't be frantically trying to catch his breath, all his air stolen by another fucking amazing orgasm.
Ian climbed up his body and undid the clasp on the gag, freeing Hank's mouth. Before he could speak, Ian sealed their lips together, sharing Hank's own taste with him. Normally he'd think that was kinda gross, but Ian made it seem hot as all hell.
"Beautiful," Ian was saying underneath his breath as he licked at Hank's mouth, sucking on his lower lip like some kind of tasty candy.
"Lemme," Hank whispered, reaching between Ian's legs, but Ian batted his hand away.
"Already taken care of." Ian ran his fingers through Hank's hair, tracing the line of his jaw.
"Okay," Hank said. It seemed the orgasm had robbed his of words just as deftly as the gag had. He let Ian soothe him back into sleep, curled around each other in the quiet.
This time the daylight streaming through the glass doors woke Hank, who had long grown sensitive to that sort of thing, even when it was the artificial light of a starship behind his eyelids. He grunted and rolled over, to find Ian already awake, his head propped up on one arm, once against just watching Hank.
"Morning," Hank said.
"May I kiss you?" Ian asked, sounding almost shy.
Hank moved to sit up. "You don't have to ask…" Before he finished speaking, the blue collar around his neck slid off and landed on the pillow with a plop. Oh, he suddenly realized their time was up, without the collar he was no longer obligated to obey Ian. And he thought maybe Ian didn't know what to do with that. So Hank leaned over and planted one on him, short and softer than he would have liked, but he didn't know where to go from here.
"What now?" Hank asked as he pulled away. "Do I get the white one back or…?"
"Of course." Ian slid out of the bed, throwing on his robe before pulling open the drawer with the white collar and Hank's clothes. "Your things. You may use the facilities, I'll use the public baths downstairs."
"Ian, you don't have to…" Hank began, but before he finished Ian had already pulled back the curtain hiding the door across from the bed and disappeared through it.
"Damn it!" he said to the empty room.
The tram ride back to the Schola shouldn't have been as awkward as it was, Hank thought, watching Ian out of the corner of his eye. They had formed a friendship, or so Hank had thought, out of the time they had been forced to spend together. Ian seemed to not know how to act around Hank now.
For the first time in days Ian had donned his guard uniform, looking closed off and sullen as he stared out of the window, ignoring Hank so fiercely Hank thought his eyes would cross. Ian had never had a serious relationship, Hank had inferred from Liam's words about his son's need to settle down. Had he spent his entire life with a series of one-night stands, of temporary contracts and blue collars?
Or perhaps Ian had remembered Hank was only here temporarily, a ward of the state until his Commander came to claim him. For the first time he wondered what that would entail, if Morgan would have to fuck him in front of the Queen and everyone. He buried his head in his hands and groaned. Poor Karl.
"Are you unwell?" Ian finally broke.
Hank shook his head. "When we get back I need to see Karl. I haven't spoken to him since we argued…" Stars, Hank felt like an asshole, so taken in by everything Ian had to show him he'd dropped Karl like he didn't matter. And he damned well knew better, Karl was the civilian, Hank should have stuck to him like glue, no matter how pissed off he was.
"He is well," Ian said. "The reports would have said otherwise."
Of course, because all of this was just a job for Ian too. How the hell could he have been so stupid?
"But I will take you to him as soon as we arrive." He ran his fingers down the wall of the tram, and the tram started to descend, instead of heading for a higher floor on the lofty tower. Ian, at least, was a man of his word.
Hank admitted he was confused when Ian led him to the lower levels, where the children were schooled. Although it might have made sense, to keep Karl down here with the kids, who weren't studying anything sexual. He didn't expect to find Karl in the center of a circle of the little brats, eagerly taking notes as they spoke.
Karl looked up at Hank's entrance, eyes widening. "Glad you could join us Major, I was wondering where you had ridden off to."
Hank cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said, unable to muster up his usual witty self.
"Let's take a break," Karl said to his audience. "Isn't it time for a snack?"
Then Hank noticed the woman sitting slightly apart from the group, probably the trainer for this class. "Excellent idea, Sub Karl. Come children."
Hank dropped onto one of the cushions vacated by the kids, wincing as he came into contact with the thing. He still ached everywhere and it just wasn't as satisfying this morning as he thought it would be, not with Ian on the other side of the door to this classroom, instead of inside of it.
"Been busy I see?" Karl used his stylus to tap the side of Hank's neck.
The twinge of pain reminded Hank of the hickey Ian had sucked there last night. "Fuck," he said, slapping his hand over it. "That obvious?"
"Rather," Karl agreed.
Hank noticed the collar Karl now wore was a pale gray instead of the bright white. "What happened with you? What's with the gray?"
Karl tugged at his collar and winced slightly. "It means I'm broken and off the market. It was the soul healer's idea, really."
"How's that working out for you?"
"For the first time I felt like I was talking to someone who actually made sense on this entire fucking planet." Karl took a deep breath. "I may have been a tad judgmental."
Hank barked out a laugh. He found himself rubbing his forehead, unable to look up at Karl.
"You look like you had a rough time of it." Karl lowered his voice. "No one forced you…"
"Stars, no, Karl. I think," and here it hurt to admit, "I may have gotten in over my head."
"Just as long as you haven't signed over your liberty."
"Only temporarily," Hank said under his breath.
"Never mind. What are you doing here?" Hank waved his hand to indicate the room, the cushions, the kids coming back with their snacks.
"The children are telling me stories."
Hank really wanted a strong cup of coffee right about now. His stomach growled and he remembered he had missed breakfast. "Stories?"
"Fairytales specifically. Some of the best ways to get to the heart of what's important in a culture is to find out what stories they tell their children."
Well, that was certainly a better way than Hank had been going about it these past few days. "I'm going to grab one of the snacks. Don't move."
Karl chuckled as Hank made his move, charming the trainer in letting him snag a plateful of cookies and one of the cups of juice. Apparently the kids didn't drink the warm beverage he had gotten used to here on 328. Oh well, this would have to do. He brought everything back, only to find his seat had been claimed and he had to take another pillow around the edge of the circle. Now that he had a chance to look, he recognized some of these kids from their first day here, some of the blue-eyed sub children. That's when he noticed there were brown-eyed kids in this group too. Huh, Karl had managed to get a group of sub and dom kids, Hank had thought they were all schooled separately.
"All right, Allie, I believe you wanted to tell the next one?" Karl said, pointing to a brown-eyed girl who looked to be about twelve.
She leapt to her feet eagerly. "Yes, thank you, Sub Karl." Allie put her hands behind her back and executed a fine little bow to her classmates. "This story is called 'The hidden love.'"
"Once there was a duke who had many subs in his household. It came time for him to choose a Primary, but the duke didn't know who to choose. So he decided to discover which of his subs loved him the most and make that one his Primary. So he asked them all, one by one, 'How much do you love me?'
"Each of his subs came before him to give their answer. One said, 'I love you, my master, as far as the sea stretches across the sky.' Another said, 'Master, I love you more than all of the jewels you have ever given me.'
"And then the duke came to one of his most favorite and cherished subs. When he asked her, 'Dear Jennifar, how much do you love me?' she responded, 'My master, I love you as meat loves salt.'
"The duke grew angry at this answer. He sent the sub away, to be punished by the most feared Master in his district."
Hank leaned forward, curious as to how this would end. The other children also seemed enthralled by this story and he wondered if they had ever heard it before.
"When she was returned to the duke's house, the sub did not go to the healer. She went to the kitchens and asked Harmony to serve the evening supper without any salt. Then she hid in the curtains of the dining hall, still marked by the kiss of the whip.
"When the duke dined that evening, the meat turned to ash in his mouth, having no flavor at all. Only then did he remember the words of his favorite sub and cried out that he had done her wrong.
"She emerged from the curtains and knelt before the duke, her body bearing witness to her ordeal. The other subs gasped in shock at the sight of the blood. The duke begged her forgiveness, and asked her to be his Primary. But it was too late, she had kept herself from the healers for too long, and she died in the arms of the master she loved above all."
Karl had scribbled during the entire recitation and Hank wondered how much of the story he had taken down verbatim. "Thank you Allie," Karl said. "Now, can any of you tell me what that story teaches?"
The kids all had different ideas. One thought it was meant to remind doms of their responsibility towards their subs, to ensure proper care even after punishment. Another said it was a lesson against glib tongues and false praise. Yet another kid said it meant a dom should not be selfish in his love, and must love all subs equally.
Hank thought they all might have a point. He made eye contact with Karl, who smiled at him. Yeah, Karl knew his job damn well. Hank wondered how many stories he collected on that slate, and if any of them would help him with his little problem with Ian. He looked at the doorway, still closed with the guard on the other side. Hank decided to stick with Karl for the rest of the day. Maybe he would learn something.
Hank woke after some weird dreams, an amalgam of some of the weirder stories of yesterday involving a wizard and his subs, all wearing collars made out of snakes. He remembered Ian being in there somewhere, watching Hank, but unable to speak. None of the tales had mentioned what to do about dealing with a former master after a temporary contract. They should work on that, he thought, he was sure he wasn't the only one with that problem.
After spending the day with Karl, Hank had debated going back to their shared quarters with him. Then he found out they had given Karl a much better room of his own. Apparently his work with the soul healer had won him some goodwill. Ian had led Hank back here, to his upgraded bedroom, along with the other guard who had been shadowing Karl all day. They hadn't had a chance to speak and Hank wondered if Ian had done that on purpose.
He had eaten, dressed and ended up circling the room endlessly. Ian usually came before now, taking Hank to whatever lesson he had in store for the day. His lack drove Hank mad wondering at the reason. Was Ian in trouble for sleeping with his charge? Had he decided to hand Hank over to another guard? Maybe Ian thought he had nothing left to learn.
A good few hours later he had an answer, of sorts. The door slid open to reveal Ian, still in his guard uniform, looking flushed and out of breath. He stepped in the room, making eye contact with Hank for the first time since their incredibly awkward morning after.
"Sub Henry," he said, then bit his lip.
"Ian," Hank said, hoping that by calling him by name Ian understood exactly how Hank felt, that they were still friends, if nothing else.
"I wanted to give you something." Ian tugged at a pouch at his waist and pulled out a strip of braided leather dyed a pale blue.
It wasn't a collar, Hank hadn't seen any braided like this before, although he had learned his lessons about assuming. "Ian…" he said.
Ian moved forward and caught his hand around Hank's hair, tilting his head back to kiss him. Hank closed his eyes and just let him, memorizing the taste of Ian. Because this kiss? Felt like goodbye.
"It's a wristlet," Ian said as he stepped away.
Hank opened his eyes and looked at the strip of leather. "I can't. Ian, we can't…We never should have…"
Ian winced at that. "Take it as a remembrance of me, then, for when you go back to your stars."
"All right," Hank agreed. He held out his arm and let Ian tie it around his wrist. Of course, it fit perfectly.
"I don't regret it Hank, I don't regret a moment of it."
Only after Ian left did Hank realized the guard had called him by his nickname. Ian had never done that before. Hank wondered what the hell was going on.
He got his answer a few hours later. Commander Morgan had returned.