Garth poured Clem a fresh glass of juice. “Here, you look like you need something to take a nasty taste out of your mouth.”
“Very perceptive,” Clem replied, his tone wry. He took a long, slow drink.
“You don’t have to tell me. We could pretend the call never happened and go on with our day.” Garth’s curiosity warred with his need for peace.
“Very tempting. Almost as tempting as you. However, this is something you need to know about, even if it does ruin the atmosphere.” Clem paused as if gathering his thoughts. Garth waited with as much patience as he could muster, never taking his eyes from Clem’s face. With Clem there with him, Garth felt like he could deal with anything.
“I’ll cut right to the chase,” Clem said. “That call was from the woman you met briefly yesterday, Laura Benton. In a manner of speaking, she’s my boss on this operation. She wants you to go back to work tomorrow and I don’t, because I don’t think it’s safe. She doesn’t think it will be safe, either, but that’s the point.”
“She, you, think that whoever I saw in the ghost train might come after me?”
“If the killer is who we think he is, it’s a very real possibility that he’ll consider you a loose end that needs to be snipped off.” Clem sighed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the body you found yesterday was a runner. He was a low-level grunt working for a particularly ruthless group who run smuggling operations up and down the south coast.”
“There was something in the papers a while back about two off-duty detectives on holiday in Cornwall who brought down a smuggling gang. I can’t quite recall the details, but it sounded like something out of an adventure story.”
“Yes, Inspector Alex Courtney and Detective Conor Trethuan. I met them once, at an awards ceremony, and we got talking. We’ve kept in touch since. You’d like them. They have a very similar relationship to the one I’d like to have with you.”
“You mean, they’re in the lifestyle?”
Clem nodded. “We get everywhere.” His overly dramatic tone made Garth laugh and eased the tension a little.
“But to get back to the topic in hand, the Cornish operation was a very small part of a much larger network. We believe that the amusement park has been used as an exchange spot for some time.”
“Zach’s dad must be absolutely furious,” Garth observed. “The park has been in the family for generations. He’s paranoid about maintaining a good reputation. He has a zero-tolerance policy on any kind of bad behavior.”
“He’s not under any suspicion. He has given us carte blanche to run our operation in whatever way we see fit. His only stipulation is that we keep his security team in the loop when they need to be.”
“And now you want to dangle me on a hook, like a juicy little worm.” Garth’s stomach churned.
“Let’s get this clear. It’s the last thing I want to do—however, I don’t have enough influence to stop it. I’m under orders to ask you if you are prepared to help.”
“And all I have to do is go back to work?” Garth didn’t think it was that simple.
“Yes. Do everything you would do on any other day. Act normal.”
“And draw out a killer.” Garth whispered the words, but that didn’t make them any less terrifying.
“You don’t have to do it,” Clem said. “Nobody will think any the less of you if you don’t.”
“I might think less of myself though. I’ll do it. I know you don’t want me to, Clem, but please understand. I think I have to.”
“I’m proud of you.” Clem left his chair and circled the table. He threaded his fingers through Garth’s hair, tugging to tilt his head back. Then he bent over him and kissed him, long and hard. Garth opened for him and, after a while, dared to explore Clem’s mouth himself. He tasted of cucumber and mint from his drink, sweet and addictive. Garth didn’t want the kiss to end, but when Clem reached for Garth’s cock, Garth lost the ability to think. At that moment he would have done anything Clem asked, he was sure of it.
Clem kept a firm grip as he withdrew from the kiss. He didn’t move his hand. Garth lifted his body a couple of inches, seeking something, anything, more.
“I think it’s your duty to take my mind off what might happen tomorrow, don’t you, Sir?”
Clem contracted his fingers enough to make Garth gasp.
“I realize you’re new to all this, sweetheart, but who makes the rules in this relationship?”
“You, Sir!” The words came out in an embarrassing squeak.
“That’s right, but on this occasion I’m happy to go with your plan.” He gave Garth’s dick a tug, bringing him to his feet. “Time to show you the playroom.”
“You have a…” Garth stopped talking so that he could focus on following Clem at a safe distance.
“Can you imagine how it would feel if there was a ring in the end of your pretty cock and I attached a lead to it?”
Garth’s heart pounded in his chest. He had a vivid and active imagination and it wasn’t much of a stretch to picture the scenario Clem presented. To his surprise, the idea didn’t make him want to run for the door—not that running anywhere was an option in his current state.
“It would certainly be one way of keeping you where I could see you, wouldn’t it?”
Garth didn’t think Clem expected an answer to the question. Besides, the anticipation of what might lurk behind the door Clem had stopped in front of was enough to worry about. It was completely innocuous, just the other side of the guest bedroom on the ground floor, not in a cellar or hidden behind a secret panel. It was locked and Clem produced the key from a carved wooden box on a nearby side table.
“I have an occasional cleaner,” Clem explained. “She thinks this is a darkroom for my photography.” He unlocked the door then pushed it open. Curious, Garth took a step forward, forgetting that Clem had hold of the most sensitive part of his anatomy. Clem let him go.
“Go ahead. Take a look around.”
Garth took a few paces to the middle of the room and did a slow, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn in an attempt to take everything in. The first thing he noticed was the sensation beneath his feet. The floor was covered with dark, cushioned rubber, which would be soft on his knees. He gave a small smile that his first thought about the space involved him kneeling, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The walls and ceiling were painted midnight blue and there were heavy shutters over the single window. Only a tiny sliver of light filtered into the room, but a soft glow was provided by dimmable halogen spotlights set into the ceiling. An open archway at the back of the room led to a small bathroom. In the main space an impressive St. Andrew’s cross stood in one corner, a leather-topped spanking bench in the other. The doors of an oak cupboard stood open, revealing an extensive array of neatly arranged equipment. Floggers and whips hung on hooks, while other toys, some of which Garth didn’t even recognize, lay on the shelves. There was no conflict or contradiction about the purpose of the room. Clem’s character was reflected in every aspect of the arrangements, which were almost clinical in their intent. Garth gave a slight nod. He liked the clarity that Clem’s playroom provided. He had no doubt that the room was intended to facilitate both pleasure and pain.
“What do you think?” Clem lounged against the frame of the still open door.
“It’s very you. I love it.” Without prompting, Garth dropped to his knees, bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back. He sighed, content that he was exactly where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.
Clem pulled the door shut but didn’t lock it. He moved to stand closer to Garth.
“You’re new to all this, and to me. We take this slowly.”
“Yes, Sir,” Garth murmured.
“For today, your safe word is red. You say it, and everything stops. If I think you’ve had enough, everything stops. You won’t impress me if you don’t use that word when you need to. Using it is not a failure. Do you understand?”
Garth shiv
ered. “Yes, Sir.” Despite his words, Garth didn’t think he’d want to stop. He trusted Clem to give him what he needed without going too far. He didn’t need a security blanket, but he understood and accepted the protocol. Clem was a responsible Dom who took his role seriously. He wasn’t playing games.
“Go and stand in front of the cross, with your back to the wood.”
Getting to his feet wasn’t as easy as it should have been. Garth tried to make the movements graceful but still staggered before he regained his balance. He threw an anxious glance in Clem’s direction but found no censure.
“Don’t worry, Garth. It takes practice. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to perfect it.” Clem’s wolfish smile sent a thrill of excitement straight to Garth’s balls.
The St. Andrew’s cross wasn’t padded like the one Garth had seen when he’d visited The Underground in London. It was fashioned from smooth, dark wood. It wasn’t designed for comfort. Functional, was the word that sprang to mind. Garth took up his position, spreading his legs to align his feet with the base of the struts. Where the uprights crossed, they pressed against his arse. He reached back to grasp the wood, needing an anchor. He fancied it would be easier to be tied in place.
Clem approached. “How are you feeling?” There was something in his hand, but Garth couldn’t quite make out what it was. “Garth, when I ask the question I expect an answer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir.” Garth dragged his attention away from Clem’s closed fist. “I feel… Safe. Excited. Is that okay?”
“One thing I can’t control is your emotional condition, though I can influence it. I’m glad you feel safe. I wouldn’t continue with this if you didn’t. It’s even better that you’re excited. I have something here that should help you maintain that state for a little longer.”
He held out his hand and on his palm sat a thick metal ring. Garth held very, very still while Clem fitted the restrictive cuff around the base of his cock and balls. The constriction was noticeable but not painful.
“At your age, I don’t expect you to have great control without a lot of training, and I mean a lot. You no longer get to come without my permission and the ring will aid your obedience.”
“I don’t get to…”
“No. This”—Clem grasped Garth’s cock in one fist—“is mine. If you touch without my permission, I’ll lock you in a chastity cage and your dick won’t see freedom for quite some time.”
“That’s not…” Garth slammed his mouth shut, having second thoughts about what he was going to say. Fairness didn’t come into it. If Clem didn’t want him to come, that was how it would be. A sense of peace enveloped him as he accepted that Clem was in charge. He didn’t have to worry about making decisions or arguing, because Clem would keep him safe and had his best interests at heart.
“Good boy.” Clem’s grin was full of mischief.
“Not your boy,” Garth grouched.
“And there’s my brat. I want you to be yourself, Garth. You can whinge and complain as much as you like, but unless you say ‘red’, what I say goes. If I wanted you silent, you’d be back in the gag.” Clem let go of Garth’s aching shaft and went back to the storage cupboard. He returned with his hands full of metal and clanking chains.
“I told you I liked heavy-duty bondage. These won’t be comfortable.” He bent to fasten thick steel cuffs around each of Garth’s ankles. Short chains attached them to hooks on the cross, holding Garth in place. “Your shoulder is still bothering you, isn’t it?”
Garth rolled the offending part of his body experimentally and had to hold back a gasp as pain shot through the joint. It was tempting to deny that it hurt but he didn’t think Clem would appreciate dishonesty.
“It’s sore,” he admitted. “I must have pulled a muscle or something when I fell.”
“Bondage has to be taken seriously,” Clem said. “I only want you experience the right kind of pain and I certainly won’t do anything to exacerbate your injury. So, I won’t be stretching your arms above your head today, or pulling them behind your back. That doesn’t mean I can’t restrain you.”
The toy cupboard provided the necessary equipment. Clem strapped a stiff leather belt around Garth’s waist, cinching it tight. Clem then had Garth rest his arms against his sides and wrapped an additional strap, attached to the belt, around each arm. Once fastened, they held Garth’s arms in place without putting any strain on his shoulder. He couldn’t reach his cock—in fact he couldn’t move much at all other than to flex his fingers. Clem’s final move was to hook a D-ring at the back of Garth’s belt to the center of the cross. He nodded his approval.
“Perfect. I think it’s time to find out how much pain you enjoy.”
Garth’s dick twitched. His erection had not subsided and the metal ring at its base made it jut obscenely from his body. There was no doubting his arousal.
“What are you going to do, Sir?” There were so many possibilities.
“Whatever I want to.” Clem’s response didn’t help to quell Garth’s nervous excitement.
Clem’s latest trip to the toy cupboard produced… A stick. Garth couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s that? It looks like a cross between a conductor’s baton and Harry Potter’s wand.”
“I don’t think Harry would be the one using this,” Clem said. “It’s much more suited to Voldemort. It’s made of very strong, flexible carbon fiber and it’s called a pain stick. Not the most original name, I know, but accurate. I prefer wand, it’s much more…picturesque.” Clem bent the stick back into a curve then let it snap forward to hit Garth’s thigh. A line of fire immediately ignited across Garth’s skin, which went white then red. Garth sucked in his breath. The pain was far greater than anything he could have imagined would come from such a small item.
“First impressions can be deceptive, can’t they?” Clem smiled. “Hold it.” He pushed the stick between Garth’s lips then stripped off his shorts.
Garth had to clamp his jaw shut to stop himself from gaping. Clem naked was a glorious sight, with rippling muscles and a thick shaft that curved toward his stomach. Garth’s arse muscles clenched as he wondered what it would feel like to be impaled on Clem’s impressive cock. He hoped he’d get to find out soon.
“I do my best work naked,” Clem said, eyes twinkling. He took the wand from between Garth’s lips then leaned in for a punishing kiss. All Garth could do was take it. It was far too brief.
“First the pleasure, now the pain.”
Avoiding Garth’s groin, Clem went to work with his innocuous instrument of torture. He snapped it against Garth thighs, his hips and flanks until Garth’s body was on fire and his desperate need to come was overwhelming. He panted through the pain, wanting it to stop but craving more in a contradiction that his overstimulated mind could hardly process. Then Clem began to target Garth’s nipples. He screamed through two strikes to each bud, his safe word on the tip of his tongue. Then Clem stopped. Garth opened eyes he hadn’t realized were shut. He took a few long shuddering breaths. Clem didn’t say a word but bent to release Garth’s ankle cuffs from the cross before unhooking the belt.
“Turn around.”
Garth’s feet obeyed the order before his brain could even process what it meant. A tap to each calf made him spread his legs wide and it was the work of a moment for Clem to refasten the chains and clip the front of the belt to the center of the cross.
“Lean against the wood if you need to.”
Clem worked the carbon wand over Garth’s calves, the back of his thighs and his back, going nowhere near his shoulders. Heat blossomed over Garth’s skin and he drifted on a wave of pain-induced bliss. The world ceased to exist. When the sharp, stinging strokes reached his arse, it got even better. He thrust his backside out in a silent plea for more. Instead, Clem stopped. Garth didn’t have the energy to protest. His fingers and toes curled as the need to come enveloped every particle of his being. He sobbed his frustration but then felt blessed pressure against his hole.
“In future, I’ll have to keep you plugged so you’re always ready for me.” Clem’s voice was rougher than usual. “For now, a couple of fingers will have to do.” He slid the slick digits home, making Garth rise onto his toes. “There we go.” Clem found Garth’s prostate with unerring accuracy. Glitter exploded in front of Garth’s eyes. A tight band of steel was all that stood between him and the best orgasm of his life.
“Please, Sir!” It was a demand more than a plea and it earned him a smack across one already sore butt cheek.
“All in good time.” Clem worked Garth’s hole with quick, efficient movements, but it wasn’t enough. Garth needed Clem’s cock.
“Want you in me. Now!”
“Demanding little brat, aren’t you?”
“Yes!” Garth had no problem admitting his failings if it got him what he wanted. He leaned in to the wooden cross, wishing his hands were free so he could get the cock ring off. It would be worth any punishment.
“I don’t think you deserve to come.” Clem withdrew his fingers. “However, I believe I do.”
The seconds it took Clem to roll on a condom and apply lube took forever.
“Please, Clem! Sir!” When he got his way, much as he welcomed the intrusion, Garth’s body refused to relax and accept Clem’s cock. Clem persisted, pushing home his claim with gentle but inexorable force. Garth savored the burn, which soon subsided to a more pleasant heat. Clem was big, but Garth’s body adjusted as if they were two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Once he was fully seated, Clem paused, the tips of his fingers digging into Garth’s hips. He remained absolutely still for an agonizing length of time and no amount of wiggling on Garth’s part could persuade him to move.
“Be still,” Clem whispered, brushing his lips against Garth’s earlobe. “You’re not in control here and the quicker you accept it, the better.”
Garth’s senses seemed to be in overdrive. The smooth, hard wood pressing into his abdomen contrasted with Clem’s muscular body brushing his back. Garth could still feel every line left by the evil wand, his skin tingling with a mixture of heat and residual pain. Clem’s girth filled his channel and nudged his prostate, sending continual sparks of pleasure through Garth’s frame. The scent of wood and leather and Clem filled his nostrils. In the dim light his vision was limited, but if he looked down, Garth saw the rigid metal around his ankles and the leather straps around his waist and arms. The only sounds came from his own ragged pants and the rattle of chains.
Ghost Train Page 5
