Trust And Obey

by Ts McKinney

  Brookes must have heard the noise of him trying to escape but the man still didn’t acknowledge that anything had changed. Well, except Landry noticed how his broad shoulders tensed as soon as he’d started struggling but they’d quickly settled back into his usual arrogant pose of looking like he ruled the fucking world. What the fuck had he been thinking? Allowing this…this stranger to put him into such a vulnerable position and there wasn’t a soul within screaming distance that could help him if he needed it. No one but Brookes could release him from his binds. Other than Sage, a boy he barely knew, nobody even knew where he was or what he was doing.

  Who he was with.

  “Do you need to use your safe word, kitten?” Brookes asked, his back still to Landry.

  Landry felt the husky voice tickle every inch of his body, inside and out. The words, however, caused him to straighten his spine and glare in Brookes’ direction. Was that a challenge? It had to have been a challenge.

  It hadn’t been a challenge.

  Landry knew that just as sure as he knew he had nothing to fear from Brookes—at least not the way he’d been thinking a few seconds ago when his mind tried to convince him that he might be in some sort of physical danger from the Dom. Yes, he was probably in danger…just nothing that had anything at all to do with a physical pain. His heart was in fucking danger.

  Brookes turned around to face him, no flogger or crop in his sexy hands, but a strange expression on his handsome face. Landry’s eyes flickered down to the table the Dom had been messing with and a crop rested there…untouched. His muscled arms crossed over his chest as he continued to look at Landry. It was a sexy pose but Landry had a feeling the Dom had no idea whatsoever how he looked at the moment. All of Brookes’ attention was focused solely on Landry.

  Landry opened his mouth to answer. Closed it. Opened it. Closed it. He most certainly wouldn’t be using his safe word. That was totally unheard of in his warped mind. He was, however, at a total loss on what Brookes expected of him.

  “What are you going to do to me?” He heard himself ask. Even in his confused, flat-on-his-ass, caught-with-his-pants-down state, he knew his question sounded stupid. He sounded…weak. He never sounded weak in a scene. He was never afraid, not even of the unknown. Right now, his entire body was trembling.

  From where he stood, Brookes answered, “Whatever I want.” Slowly, he shoved away from the table and closed the distance between them. When he stood in front of Landry, mere inches from their bodies touching, a hand reached out to play with the ends of Landry’s hair.

  Not what Landry expected. Not at all.

  After a few seconds of enjoying the silky texture, Brookes tucked the strands behind Landry’s right ear. “Whatever you need,” he whispered. “I don’t know about the other Doms you’ve played with in the past Landry, but I do know how I do things. My responsibility is to bring you pleasure.” He tucked hair behind the other ear, leaving Landry without the ability to hide behind the silky locks while they talked. “I watched you tonight. I watched you working with one Dom and then another, always searching for something but never getting there.” When Landry tried to drop his gaze, Brookes lifted his chin with a finger. “You were playing, Landry, nothing more. You won’t ever find what you’re looking for unless you are willing to truly let go and give yourself to your Dom.”

  Landry snorted in disgust…and fear. It troubled him how easily Brookes saw straight through his façade. “Yeah, like you know anything about me. Everyone else in the club seemed to enjoy my performance.”

  Brookes moved to stand behind him, so close they were touching. Landry could feel the hardness of the other man’s chiseled chest, rippled ab muscles, hard cock, and treetrunk thighs pressing against him, invading all his senses and leaving him almost lightheaded.

  “Performance being the key word there, kitten. You were performing to please a crowd. What about pleasing you? What about actually stopping long enough to feel instead of perform?”

  Brookes’ arms wrapped around Landry’s thin waist and Landry felt himself being pulled even tighter against the heat and hardness of Brookes’ body. Landry wanted to struggle, to force himself right out of the tight grasp that was doing nothing short of causing a serious sensory overload, but his body overrode his mind. He didn’t want to acknowledge how perfect his body fit against Brookes’ bigger, more powerful form. There was absolutely no way the other man was making his blood race and boil within his veins. He held the power, he was always the one in control during a scene. He played with dominant men like they were mere toys to be tinkered with and then tossed away when he was finished. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Landry looked into the mirror at the seductive picture in front of him. The soft black leather of Brookes’ gloves rested against his stomach, making him look elfishly small when compared to the other man’s size. One of them was a mountain of muscles and the other a sleek leanness. Brookes was taller, towering over him even as the other man bent his head to make them closer.

  “I always feel,” Landry stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A nervous chuckle tumbled out of his mouth. “How could I not feel? My ass is feeling the kiss of the lash. It would be impossible for me not to feel.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Brookes answered softly as he moved his hands away from Landry’s midsection so he could begin peeling the tight gloves from his hands. “There’s so much more to it than just accepting the burn of the crop, kitten. Sure, about anyone could do that—they might not enjoy it, but they could handle it. Is that what you’ve been doing? Handling it?” The gloves were tossed over to the table where the crop still lay, cold and untouched. “That isn’t what I want from you. I want you to feel me. The crop is nothing more than an extension of my hands.” Long, tanned fingers tapped against Landry’s temple as he said, “You have a block up here, kitten. Whatever is up here is keeping you from feeling anything down here.” The other hand cupped Landry’s leather covered ass.

  “That’s absurd,” Landry stammered. Stammering again, when did he begin stammering? Stammering was Jagger’s thing, not his. Sure, he might not be as comfortable and confident in the real world, but during sex or a scene, he did not stammer.

  Yet, he was stammering. Fuck.

  Another chuckle. “I’m glad you feel that way, kitten. If you think I’m being absurd, you surely won’t mind me using my hands on you. I mean…what I’m saying…what I’m doing, it’s all just absurd, right?”

  “Your hands?” Landry squeaked and then laughed. “Oh, you mean like a spanking – with your hands. No problem, mate. Whatever gets you off.”

  Brookes chuckled softly. “Let’s see about getting you off, shall we?” He stepped away from Landry long enough to retrieve the thick strip of black fabric he’d placed on the table. When he returned, he stood in front of Landry and showed him the blindfold. “Is this okay with you, kitten?” he asked softly. “I think this will help your focus.”

  A nervous shiver kissed Landry’s spine, but it wasn’t from fear. He nodded his agreement and Brookes quickly covered his eyes with the satin fabric, tying it tightly behind his head. Darkness swamped Landry’s senses, unnerving him. He’d never used a blindfold in a scene before—not because he was afraid but because he spent a good deal of his time watching the scene unfold. He liked watching a Dom’s muscles move with precision and skill. He loved seeing his own body take the abuse of a flogger—it gave him a sense of pride. With the blindfold tied securely around his eyes, he was afraid he was going to miss the pornographic aspect of the scene. Hell, that’s why he’d had all those mirrors installed!

  “Beautiful,” Brookes whispered in awe. “Such pale, flawless skin for someone living on the beach,” he complimented. “The black cloth against your skin is the sexiest vision I’ve seen all night.” His fingertips traced the outline of Landry’s lips. “Are you comfortable with the blindfold, kitten?”

  A smartass comment lodged in Land
ry’s throat. He wanted to fight against the delicious feelings Brookes was already causing his body to enjoy. He’d never thought he would enjoy being blindfolded and it pissed him off that Brookes apparently knew something about him that he didn’t even know himself. He would have thought the darkness would have made him feel vulnerable…too exposed. It didn’t. Instead, it managed to cause a calm peacefulness to wash over him.

  “It’s fine.” Sheer defiance kept him from admitting that he welcomed the darkness the cloth offered him.

  “Good. That’s a good start,” Brookes answered.

  Other than the music playing in the background, everything else was silent. Landry could no longer tell where Brookes was, how close or how far away. His body was tense, but ready for anything. Ready for pain. Seconds passed, maybe minutes, and Landry felt himself start to squirm. What in the hell was he waiting on?

  He was just about to ask when he felt Brookes’ large hands grip the tops of his shoulders. Gripped…and then massaged. With a skill that should only belong to a masseuse, Brookes worked out the kinks in Landry’s shoulders and then started down his back. Frustrated and confused, Landry tried to shove away, to drag his body out of the new danger zone, but Brookes had him bound tightly enough that he was granted only the smallest of movements. “What the fuck?” Landry growled as terror, slowly but surely, started freezing his insides. “Stop! Stop doing that! What are you doing?”

  “Helping you relax, kitten,” Brookes purred into his ear. “What does it feel like I’m doing?” he asked with a chuckle, but his hands never stopped their assault.

  Down the center of his back, massaging and then caressing the loosened muscles.

  “I don’t need to relax!” Landry hissed. “What I need is for you to do your job! Didn’t you promise to make me soar?” He laughed harshly, and the harshness came from the panic that was taking over every inch of his body. “If I wanted a fucking massage, Brookes, I’d go to a masseuse. I thought I went to a Dom but clearly I was mistaken!”

  Landry wasn’t sure why the relaxing massage, because it felt damned good, was irritating him so much. Yes, he did know why. It was irritating him because it was different. It was taking him out of his comfort zone. Pain and sex were in his comfort zone. This shit Brookes was doing to him? Making his body feel like melted butter—not in his comfort zone.

  “Hmmm,” Brookes answered in a bored tone as his hands kept working.

  The thighs were next—massaging and caressing. Landry’s desperation got worse with each exquisite touch. He thought the massage was bad but what came next was even more terrifying—knocked him on his ass, even more.

  “Beautiful, Landry,” Brookes whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Hands moved back up to Landry’s lower back and the whispering kept going. “Your body is a gift, kitten. A Dom, or lover…hell, anyone lucky enough to get to touch you, should be thankful.” The warmth of his touch moved to Landry’s arms, putting Brookes’ mouth even closer to Landry’s ear. “You’re a treasure, kitten.”

  Landry tried, he tried so damned hard to not get lost in the warm touch and even warmer words. Brookes was saying shit that was the total opposite of reality. Landry knew he was no man’s treasure. He knew that he held no true worth in this world. Words. Brookes was spouting nonsense. Why? Why do it? Why toy with his emotions when he should be toying with his body, instead?

  “Stop saying that shit!” Landry begged, his voice weaker than when he’d spoken before. “It isn’t true. None of it’s true! Just…just stop,” he finished weakly.

  “You know what to do if you really want me to stop.”

  Landry didn’t say it the safeword and Brookes didn’t stop. He kept touching every inch of Landry’s body, but the touches, like the words, had turned soft. It was butterfly caresses with words of praise. With the stupid blindfold anchored over his eyes, Landry had no choice but lose himself in…Brookes. Sure, he tried to be defiant. He tried to hold his body stiff and convince his muscles that the touches didn’t feel like a tiny slice of Heaven. He even tried to block out the words. He honestly tried.

  He failed.

  Landry had no idea how much time passed. It could have been minutes or could have been hours. He didn’t have the slightest clue. All he knew was that he was locked in darkness while Brookes worked slowly and methodically at tearing down each and every one of his defenses. He felt weak, but strong. Scared, but safe. Nervous, but calm. How could that be? How could Brookes make him…feel?

  “Very good, kitten,” Brookes whispered against his ear while wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling Landry’s body tight against his. “Do you want me to stop or shall we continue with my scene?”

  Landry felt so relaxed, he could barely breathe, much less carry on a coherent conversation. Yet, he didn’t want whatever he was feeling to end. He knew that much—knew he needed Brookes to continue. “Don’t stop. Please,” he whispered.

  Brookes’ tongue licked Landry’s earlobe and then suckled the sensitive tip. “Do you want it hard? Or soft, like I’ve been giving you?”

  “H-hard,” Landry answered and was shocked that the stutter was caused from his teeth chattering. Why was his body feeling this way? Hell, what was his body feeling?

  “Good boy,” Brookes answered with another swipe of his tongue. “Very good boy.”

  Brookes’ heat moved away from Landry and it was all Landry could do to not whine in protest. He did, however, yelp when the kiss of the flogger touched his backside—hard enough to grab his attention but not enough to really hurt. Again and again, the flogger heated his flesh.

  Landry tried to dig himself out of whatever trance Brookes had put him in, but he didn’t have the strength. No, maybe he didn’t want to. He tried to pull upon his years of playing in the BDSM world so he could act properly—like a proper sub—but he couldn’t. Brookes had cast some sort of wicked spell over his body, and Landry couldn’t escape it.

  All his energy was focused on the feel of the flogger smacking against his body and nothing else. Wait, he felt Brookes. He felt his heat and his energy. He took a deep breath and inhaled the other man’s scent. Loving how it made him feel, he inhaled again. His body felt like he was starting to float. Higher and higher. Deeper and deeper.

  ****

  “I guess you think I’m going to invite you back to my place, don’t you?” Landry asked. He’d had sex with a lot of people over the years but he’d never invited anybody back to his place. Ever. Was he inviting Brookes? Sure, it might have been a veiled invitation, but it was an invitation. He felt a blush stain his cheeks. He hadn’t fucking blushed in years upon years.

  Brookes smiled at him. “No, babe. I don’t think you’re ready for me to invade your personal space yet. Anyway, I have something I have to take care of tonight but I plan on letting you take me out on a date tomorrow,” he explained with his typical arrogance.

  What the fuck could Brookes have to take care of tonight? It was three fucking o’clock!

  Wait! A date? Brookes thought they were going on a date? He didn’t do dates. He did fucking. He did hanging out with his friends. Occasionally he did adult things like growth seminars and counseling training for volunteer work at Haven. He did not do dates. Dates led to revealing secrets. Dates led to commitment and relationships. He most certainly was not commitment or relationship material.

  His stomach did a stupid little happy dance. He was going on a date! Using every bit of darkness inside of him, he attempted to squash the happy dance until there was nothing left of it but a nasty greasy spot on the pavement of his heart. Fail. He couldn’t do it. Instead of squashing the happy dance, he redirected his efforts to keeping a smile from curving his lips. Hell, if he smiled, there would be no way he could try to convince the bigger man he wasn’t really interested in him…when he clearly was.

  “A date? I don’t think so,” he finally managed to squeak out. “I don’t date Doms.” There, that was the best argument he could come up with at
the moment. He was tired, it’d been a long night. The sweetest long night of his life, but a long night, nevertheless.

  “You do now. How about I pick you up here at around eleven in the morning? You can give me a tour of Duval Street and show me the hot spots of the town. We’ll make a day of it, but I promise I’ll have both of us back on time to prepare for your second night at the club. Eleven o’clock okay with you?”

  So fucking arrogant—like Landry wouldn’t consider saying ‘no’. So beautifully arrogant. He couldn’t say no. “Fine. Pick me up here at eleven, but I’m not paying for anything,” he argued, and then got pissed at himself. At least if he’d paid his own way, he could have pretended it wasn’t a date. Shit.

  “I never would have allowed it, babe. Never in a million years.” He took a step closer to Landry. Then another. When they were barely an inch apart, Brookes yanked him close, molding their bodies together and then holding him there.

  Landry felt every inch…every solid muscle molded harshly against his weaker frame. Brookes was made of nothing but pure hardness and heat. A long, thick cock threatened to burst through the black leather encasing Brookes’ lower body and Landry wanted to wrap his legs around the other man and move wildly against him like a cat in heat. Instead, he remained perfectly still, just enjoying the feeling of being so beautifully dominated and overpowered.

  When Brookes’ mouth dropped to claim his own lips, Landry opened up like it was the most natural act in the world. Normally, he didn’t enjoy kissing…not nearly as much as he enjoyed fucking. It was messy. There were strings attached to kissing and those strings usually involved the heart. Tonight, however, when Brookes’ lips slanted against his own, he felt fireworks start to explode. Stubble scratched his chin and cheeks as they eliminated any space between them. Brookes’ lips felt firm and soft at the same time. The man knew how to fucking kiss, that was for certain. When a tongue slid between the crease of his lips, politely requesting entrance, Landry allowed it. Their tongues danced with one another, darting and exploring, dominating and submitting. Brookes’ kiss was like everything else he did—total domination and pure pleasure. Landry actually heard himself whimper when Brookes finally pulled away. He bit his lip and looked everywhere except at Brookes.