Testing Lysander

by L. M. Somerton

  Brock chose to ignore him. He didn’t want to think about what he was getting into until he had to, and he still had a few days to pretend that this was just another expedition.

  “Do you consider yourself a wildlife photographer or landscape?” Kyle asked.

  “Neither. Wildlife was my first love, but I’ve switched more and more to landscape. I’ve done a bit of portraiture and other odd projects for friends as well. I’m just a photographer.”

  “Okay, I was just interested,” Kyle said. “What comes next?”

  “So, equipment. I normally travel with both weather-sealed digital and conventional film cameras.”

  “Really? I’d have thought digital is the only way to go these days.” Kyle seemed genuinely curious.

  “It is, really, but I love my old manual camera. It feels like a betrayal to leave it behind. I enjoy the anticipation of developing the film to see what I’ve managed to capture. I admit that digital is cheaper and the images are easy to transmit via satellite phone, but they are reliant on battery power. I imagine you’ll be happier if I have a back-up, even if film is easily damaged in transit.”

  “We’ll need to transmit the images as quickly as possible, so it has to be digital,” Kyle said. “When you go through that cave system, you’ll want to be carrying as little as possible, but I can see the value of a back-up under more usual circumstances. You’ll need to take everything you normally would, regardless.”

  Brock leaned back in his seat. “I’m assuming that I need to keep up the pretense of a genuine expedition?”

  “It won’t be a pretense. You can still take all the pictures you need for your commission. In fact, it’s essential that you do everything you would do if that was your only reason for traveling.”

  Brock realized that he was tapping his fingers on his knee and slammed his hand down. He hit himself a bit too hard and the sharp pain made him draw a quick breath. Kyle came and stood behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

  “Try to relax. This is what you do. It’s your profession and you are very good at it. You don’t need to worry about anything else…yet. Keep going… Tell me what you need to consider next.”

  Brock sighed. Kyle’s hands on his tense muscles felt fantastic, but inevitably his cock responded, making him feel anything but relaxed.

  “Okay, first I need to plan my photographic needs. I make a comprehensive shot list with notes and priority gradings for all the pictures that will be needed. This requires discussion with the publication editors, which I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear I’ve already done. The list helps to fix in my head what I need to be looking for. Sometimes that’s a specific animal, which makes it a very short list. Other times it can be a bit wider. It depends on whether the shots are to support someone else’s article or whether the entire piece is built around the photography. I sometimes supply stock shots for background images because original stuff is always in demand. Then I also have to think about post-expedition needs, publication timings, promotion—that kind of thing.”

  “You’ll need to keep a low profile for a while when we get back. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Kyle asked.

  Brock caught a hint of the ruthless professional Kyle was. Kyle would probably lock him up if he had to and not think twice about it rather than let him do anything to jeopardize the outcome of the mission.

  “It takes months for the articles to be prepared. The shots from this commission aren’t scheduled for six months. I prefer to stay behind the scenes anyway. I rarely make public appearances.”

  “Good.”

  Kyle attacked a particularly tough knot and Brock winced. “I’m so glad my fame and fortune are top of your agenda.”

  “It’s a cunning plan to keep you all to myself.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. Brock attempted to re-focus on expedition preparation.

  “Once I know what my picture list looks like, I need to select and prepare the right equipment. Then it’s my least favorite task—packing.”

  “I’ve never met a man yet that gets pleasure out of ramming assorted crap into luggage,” Kyle said. “And I include myself in that generalization.”

  “Then it’s a good job you don’t have to help because all this stuff has been done already,” Brock said a little impatiently.

  “I know.” Kyle stroked the back of his neck, making him shiver. “But I need to understand. Every detail. So carry on and there may be a reward waiting for you when you’re done.”

  Brock tipped his head back in an attempt to see Kyle’s expression and found himself firmly kissed. Kyle gave his hair a tug, sending an erotic shiver through Brock’s body.

  “Focus, love.” Kyle resumed his seat across the room and, though Brock would have preferred to be in his arms, he remained a safe distance away.

  “You can’t kiss me and then tell me to focus. It’s not fair.”

  Kyle put his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. He came up with his best innocent-puppy look.

  “Oh good grief! Fine. I have to trust the equipment I take on any expedition. I have to be so familiar with each camera that I am able to use them blindfolded, so I know which way to turn the dial for a shorter shutter-time, where the button for holding auto-exposure is which way to adjust for longer focal lengths and so on. Are you listening?” Kyle’s eyes seemed a little glazed.

  “Sorry, I got distracted when you used the word blindfolded. Please carry on.”

  Brock grabbed at the fabric of his jeans. He needed to do something to occupy his hands. “I test all the equipment using the different combinations, with various lenses, with and without flash, using different exposure modes and settings to ensure that it is all working fine. I don’t want to be discovering problems in the field.”

  “You got me at flash that time.” Kyle’s grin was wicked.

  Brock plowed on with determination. “I take a whole load of stuff, as well as my cameras. Everything goes into hard cases so that none of it gets damaged in transit. I usually carry the cameras as hand luggage, just to be safe, and then I have a special padded backpack for trekking with lots of separate compartments. I take extra batteries for everything and chargers for when power is available—a lightweight tripod for static shots, cleaning kit, jeweler’s screwdrivers to fasten loose screws, spare lens caps… Is this too much detail? It’s not exactly exciting stuff.”

  “The more detail the better. Carry on. I’ll stop you if I don’t need to know.” Kyle crossed his legs at the ankles and relaxed into his chair.

  “I take spare cables, memory cards and a portable hard drive but other than that, I try to travel light. The more I take, the more there is to get lost or stolen.”

  Kyle nodded. “As I said, when we get to the less public part of the expedition, you’re going to have to travel as light as possible. It will just be the two of us, on foot. I calculate that it will take us two—possibly three—days to get from the area of your official shoot to where we need to be to get shots of the terrorists. Will it be a problem to replace one of your support team with one of mine?”

  Brock frowned. “It could be. I have a contract with a couple of guys I’ve worked with in South America before. I trust them. They’re really good at smoothing the path locally and they are already on the ground out there setting everything up. It would look very odd if I dumped either one of them at such a late stage.”

  Kyle frowned. “How about if you added someone to the crew, rather than take someone away? A specialist, for example.”

  “What kind of specialist?”

  “How about a naturalist or—even better—a herpetologist? You could say that you picked up an additional commission to photograph some of the local wildlife.”

  “That would work. My guys are exhibition leaders. They’re great if you need to survive in the jungle with a couple of matches and a Mars Bar, not so good if you need to identify a plant species or some kind of creepy-crawly.”

  “They sound like my kind of people.�
� Kyle grinned. “Creepy-crawly? Is that some scientific term I haven’t come across yet?”

  “Would you me prefer to use creepius-crawlius? I hate insects, okay?”

  Kyle fell about laughing. Brock put his head in his hands. “You’re never going to let me hear the last of this, are you?”

  “It’s just so…” Kyle dissolved all over again.

  “Laugh it up, tough guy.”

  “World-famous adventuring photographer is afraid of bugs. Priceless.” Kyle wiped away a tear.

  “Have you seen the size of the nasties that live in the jungle? Huge, massive, hairy… Ugh.”

  “Until you got to the last part of that sentence, you could have been talking about me.”

  “I swear your ego is as big as your… Nope, not going there. I need some more coffee.” Brock got up and headed for the kitchen, Kyle’s laughter trailing after him.

  * * * *

  Brock scooped more ground coffee into the cafetière, then filled the kettle and put it on to boil. At the rate he and Kyle were absorbing caffeine, the two of them would be awake half the night. He grinned. That wasn’t a bad idea at all. He may have resigned himself to this being a short-term thing, but he was sure as hell going to enjoy it. It wasn’t every day a man like Kyle walked into his life.

  He took two mugs from the draining board where they’d been left to dry from breakfast and put them on the counter top, fiddling with their position until the handles were aligned and perfectly parallel. The mugs were a sunny yellow color with a daisy pattern around the rim. Ceramic cheerfulness wasn’t enough, however, to dislodge Brock’s thoughts from the dark track they were heading along.

  Talking about the trip and all the planning that went into each and every expedition made the danger a bit more real. Brock had spent many months refining every detail of his expedition. The Colombian cloud forests were not a destination to be taken lightly and he was well aware of the risks of traveling in such an inhospitable area. As a legitimate trip, it was still a dangerous undertaking. Add into that the secret mission Kyle had enlisted him for and Brock thought he might need to up the cover on his travel insurance.

  “Not that any insurer in the world is going to give me a policy that covers this trip,” he muttered.

  “Stop worrying,” Kyle said from the doorway.

  “Stop following me,” Brock snapped back. “I need a moment of panic, if it’s all right with you?”

  Kyle chuckled. “You thrive on adventure and danger. Don’t try to tell me that this trip doesn’t excite you, because I know it does. Forget about the terrorists and concentrate on the territory you’ll be accessing. You’ll get pictures no other photographer is ever likely to see through a lens.”

  “There are good reasons why people don’t venture into certain parts of the world,” Brock said dryly.

  “And better reasons for taking that extra step, as you well know. This isn’t the first time you’ll take risks for pictures. I’ve seen your work, Brock, remember? You’re even crazier than I am. The shots you took in Irian Jaya—in the Jayawijaya mountains. You had to have been dangling off the rock face by your fingernails to get those pictures.”

  “Not the same thing, and you know it.” Brock poured boiling water into the cafetière, then gave the coffee a stir before depressing the plunger. “Let’s get back to the expedition ahead of us rather than reliving the past. What else do you want to know about my preparations?” He poured two fresh mugs and handed one to Kyle.

  “Let’s go and get comfortable and we’ll go through all the travel arrangements. I’ve made a few changes that I need to tell you about.” Kyle about-faced and went back to the lounge. Brock took a few deep breaths and followed to find Kyle settled at one end of the couch.

  “Come and sit with me.”

  It was an order, not a request. Brock looked longingly at the chair on the other side of the room.

  “Now, Brock,” Kyle said. His tone remained mild but Brock was under no illusions that if he didn’t do as he was told, there would be repercussions. Kyle’s mug sat on the low coffee table, untouched.

  “Put your coffee down, Brock. You don’t need it. Making it was just a way to distract yourself.”

  Fuck, he knows me too well. Brock’s hand trembled a little as he placed his mug on the table. Tiny ripples disturbed the surface of the liquid but soon settled into stillness. He sat next to Kyle, back stiff, keeping clear space between them, but Kyle pulled him firmly down so that Brock leaned against him. Brock shuddered and sighed. The rhythm of Kyle’s breathing calmed him and he relaxed into his hold.

  “There. I’ve got you. Stop over-thinking everything and let me do the worrying for you.”

  With Kyle’s strong arms around him, Brock’s dick inevitably hardened. It was so fucking difficult to think straight with Kyle’s hands on him.

  “I have a colleague who’ll be perfect to join the expedition. He’s an American and he looks like a stereotypical mad professor. He has a photographic memory that I’m very jealous of, so if I get in touch today he can mug up on the area we’re going to and meet us there.”

  “Sounds good. Now why do you need me to go through my travel plans if you’ve already meddled with them?” Even to his own ears, Brock sounded petulant. Kyle didn’t miss the tone either. He unfastened Brock’s jeans and lowered his zipper, then took a firm, almost painful hold of his cock. Brock drew a quick breath. The hold just made him harder.

  “This would look pretty in a cage, don’t you think?” Kyle said conversationally.

  “You wouldn’t.” Even as he said it, Brock knew that Kyle almost certainly would.

  “I fucking would—in an instant. So stop acting like a brat… Or perhaps you want me to punish you? Is that it, Brock? Another distraction?”

  “I don’t want—aagh!” Brock yelped as Kyle got a hand around his balls and squeezed. “Don’t…”

  “For however long this lasts between us, Brock, these are mine, to do with as I wish.”

  Brock squirmed in Kyle’s hold. I should fight this. Arrogant bastard. I should refuse to submit to him. But he couldn’t. Rough handling was exactly what he needed.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The pressure on his balls eased a fraction.

  “You can call me that as often as you like. Travel plans. Talk me through them.” All trace of Kyle’s softer side was gone. Brock shivered with need. He fought to ignore Kyle’s touch and focused instead on the details of his expedition plan.

  “I’m booked on a scheduled flight from Heathrow to Miami in three days’ time. Business class. I have a hotel booked in Miami for one night before catching a flight from there to Bogotá. I have another night booked there before my internal flight to Cartagena. From there it’s a helicopter ride into the interior. There’s an airfield that can take helicopters and small planes. That’s the closest I can get by air to where I need to be and that’s where my expedition team will meet me. We carry on from there overland by Jeep to an area called Antioquia and Las Orquídeas National Park, where the camp is. After that, I travel on foot. Most of the equipment is being sorted locally. My cameras are coming with me as hand baggage.” Brock’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Fuck, Kyle! I can’t think while you’re doing that.”

  “You don’t need to think. Recall should be automatic and you need to learn the new plans as if they were your own.”

  Brock couldn’t help himself. He pushed into the warmth of Kyle’s grip, silently begging for more. Kyle’s grip slackened.

  “Nope. Work first. Play later.”

  “What you’re doing isn’t playing?” Brock’s voice rose to a squeak as Kyle scraped a nail across the sensitive skin of his sac.

  “No, it’s a demonstration of man’s ability to multi-task. It’s a myth that only women can manage more than one thing at a time.”

  “I’d prefer to perpetuate the myth,” Brock replied. The heat and tightness in his balls had his full attention. He moaned when Kyle released him and tried to
grab Kyle’s hand so that he could put it back where it belonged. Instead, Kyle grasped Brock’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, trapping it between their bodies. Desperately, Brock tried to get hold of his aching dick with his free hand. It got the same treatment as the other one and he was left with his rigid dick exposed to the air and no way of finding relief. Kyle wrapped an arm around him, pinning him in place. Instead of making him want to escape, the restraint turned Brock to a pile of submissive goo.

  “Not fair!” Brock whined.

  “No complaining now. Accept my control. If you’re good, I may let you come…eventually,” Kyle responded.

  Kyle’s words had completely the wrong effect. Brock gasped as an orgasm snuck up and took him by surprise. Untouched, his cock pulsed and spurted streams of cum in an arc onto his lap.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck… I didn’t do anything, Sir, I promise!”

  Kyle chuckled and the deep rumble vibrated through Brock’s body.

  “Note to self… Keep disobedient sub in a nice, tight cock ring…or permanent chastity—either works for me.” He lifted Brock to his feet. “Go and get cleaned up, then perhaps we can get back to business?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Brock smiled. He didn’t look back at Kyle and took a couple of steps forward.

  “You might think you’re safe, knowing that I can’t see the smug expression on your pretty face, Brock, but I won’t underestimate your capacity for rebellion again. Believe me.”

  Brock shivered at the unspoken promise in Kyle’s words. “No, Sir.” He made sure there was an appropriate amount of deference in his tone. “I’m sure you won’t.”

  Chapter Six

  “Explain to me why you’ve bumped us up to First Class, Kyle. Not that I’m complaining.” Brock sank back into his plush leather chair, stretched out his legs and looked around the hallowed sanctum of Virgin Atlantic’s First Class lounge. “But we’re traveling on the same flight that I booked. Aren’t we supposed to be inconspicuous?”