Velvet Need

by Sean Michael

  "I know. They didn't care for you like I do. What they did was torture. What we do is for our pleasure, for our need.” Bertoli gave him a quick kiss and then cuffed his ankles, fingers still gentle, careful touches on his skin.

  The room was quiet, no drone of engines running in the background, just the softness of the peace between them broken only by their breathing and the soft laughter of his lover. Dent let himself relax, let himself feel things. Let himself believe in their need. His and Bertoli's.

  The washing was soothing, even if the drying water seemed to leach warmth from his skin. It was familiar, though, how they always began. There had been no water, no cleaning there.

  "Talk to me?” It wasn't so terribly hard to ask.

  "Hmm? Oh! Of course, of course.” Bertoli laughed. “I missed you, you know. So very much. I didn't know you'd been kidnapped and I admit I was angry ... well, no, if I were to be honest I'd admit that I was hurt, that you would stay away for so long."

  "I was never very good at staying away from you. Even at the beginning."

  Bertoli laughed loudly. “No. No, you weren't. You loved what I did to you. Not that you would admit it.” The chuckles continued as his body was touched everywhere, cleaned. “The alcohol swab now, and then we'll be ready to begin."

  "It was difficult. It still is.” He could trust now. He could begin to believe.

  "Yes. You always fight me so.” His nose was kissed, Bertoli's grin wide. “I do love a challenge.” Bertoli rubbed his hands together and snapped on latex gloves. “What shall we do today, my dear? I have some lovely vibrating sounds we haven't tried yet, interesting enema kits..."

  "I ... I don't...” Interesting and enema were not words that went together.

  "Oh, you enjoy it far more than you're willing to admit to yourself, let alone me.” Bertoli laughed and poked through his trays. “Oh, this one will be fun!"

  Oh ... He ... Uh ... That laugh was...

  Familiar and distressing and odd.

  He was shown tubing with a purple, flared head. It wasn't very wide, but it was bumpy. “It vibrates!"

  He shook his head, heart pounding. “It's purple.” And bumpy.

  Bertoli cackled. “Yes, well a lot of things that are custom made for the club are purple, aren't they? Hercules is a little obsessed."

  Dent tilted his head, surprised. Tickled. Honestly, deeply tickled. He started laughing, deep belly laughs that almost hurt.

  "Listen to you!” Bertoli laughed with him, eyes dancing and so happy.

  One of Bertoli's hands rested on his belly, the other on his chest, Bertoli feeling his laughter. It slowly died away into periodic chuckles, leaving him breathing hard, heart pounding.

  "That, my dear, was a joy to hear. Such a joy.” Bertoli's lips found his, smiling against his mouth more than kissing him, but it warm and good and theirs.

  He inhaled, breathing Bertoli in deep.

  He was given a warm smile and Bertoli's tongue snaked out to slide over his lips. “What a wonderful way to begin."

  "Yes. Yes.” It had been. Their kiss was warm and good, almost enough to make him forget where he was.

  Bertoli didn't forget, though. His lover never forgot. “It vibrates,” Bertoli whispered, eyes twinkling. Those shining eyes held his as a slick fingers pushed at his hole.

  "You said...” He moaned, tried not to tense.

  "And you'll feel,” chuckled Bertoli. Those fingers pushed right into him, began to slick him up, spread him.

  "I ... I don't know...” His eyes wanted to close, but he forced them open.

  A soft giggle sounded. “You never do, my dear. But you always trust me, and that is enough.” A third finger pushed into him.

  He shifted, the stretch aching deep. “I try. F ... full. Full, Bertoli."

  "Yes. My fingers are warm and firm enough, aren't they? The enema will be different. Fuller, but ... flexible, with no shape."

  "I ... Yes. I don't like the enemas. I don't like them, love."

  "No, but you like how they make you feel. You like the end result.” That soft little chuckle sounded. “You like that I make it happen."

  "I ... I...” He took a deep breath. He didn't. He didn't like it.

  Bertoli chuckled, the fingers sliding out of him. “The head now. The purple head."

  "I don't know if I can do this.” He knew that he'd said the words before. He knew, but he meant it.

  "Yes, you can.” The rubber was warm and slick as Bertoli pushed against his hole.

  He tensed, but the rubber spread him, entered him. It was smaller than Bertoli's cock. Smaller even than the fingers that had spread him. But it wasn't Bertoli, and it was bumpy, and it was going to vibrate. Probably after it filled him with water. “Talk to me. Please. Talk to me."

  "Shall I tell you how you look? Spread for me. Bound for me. This purple headed tubing in your body. It's almost seated now. Can you feel the bumps?” One of Bertoli's hands slid across his belly, stroked his skin.

  "Yes ... I ... I probably look like a fool."

  "What? Dent!” Bertoli growled at him, actually growled. “You do not!” The head of the tubing was twisted and then left just there, inside him. “I'm going to start filling it now. You do not look like a fool at all, my dear. It arouses me unbearably, seeing you like this."

  He looked over, searched Bertoli's face, wanting the words to be the truth.

  Bertoli met his eyes, chuckling. “You don't believe me?” His lover rubbed a hot, wet-tipped erection against his thigh. “I want you, Dent. Now more than ever."

  "Madman.” The word was fond, loving. A connection between them.

  Bertoli tilted his head. “Perhaps I am, Dent. But I am your madman.” The hard cock rubbed against him again, Bertoli moaning.

  "Mine.” Yes, and Dent intended to keep him close.

  Bertoli giggled, keeping his cock rubbing against Dent. “Oh, my dear, you do make me need. You do.” A deep breath and Bertoli moved, returning to what he'd been doing. “I'm going to fill you now."

  He took a deep breath. “I don't know how to not fight it."

  "I know. And I won't ask you not to.” With that, Bertoli turned the valve and began to fill him.

  He groaned, tugged against the bonds, confident that Bertoli understood. Knew him.

  The soft laugh that filled air told him Bertoli did indeed know. “So lovely. Once you're full we'll play with the vibrating function. See how it works."

  "I ... No. I don't think...” He stretched, trying to pull away from the pressure.

  "That's right, you don't need to think,” giggled Bertoli. “No thinking allowed.” Bertoli stroked his belly, distracting him from the way he was filling and filling.

  "Bertoli.” He groaned, panted, shoulders going tight.

  "Right here, my dear. I won't leave you.” The liquid kept filling him, Bertoli's fingers moving on his skin.

  "Full.” He shuddered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

  "Not full enough,” Bertoli told him, laughing softly. “Soon though. Soon."

  "Please. I...” Please. He couldn't.... he couldn't breathe.

  Bertoli bent and kissed the tip of his cock, tongue sliding across the slit several times. “Just a bit more, my dear. Just a bit more.” Bertoli giggled. “You can do it."

  "I can't.” He tugged at the bonds, fighting to keep his eyes open.

  "You can. You are.” Bertoli rubbed his tummy and then nodded, laughing gently. “There you are. All done. All full.” The flow stopped, Bertoli giggling. “Shall we try the vibrations?"

  Dent groaned, shook his head. No. Too full. Too much. He couldn't focus.

  "Oh, yes. I think you'll like it.” There was another kiss to his cock and then the vibrations started inside him.

  "Bertoli!” His cry seemed to echo. Too much. Too much. Oh. Help him. Please.

  Bertoli laughed softly, hands moving on him. “What is it like, Dent? How does it feel?"

  "It ... it's too much. Too big."

 
"Stop thinking, my dear. Stop thinking and just feel.” The vibrations got bigger, the liquid inside him picking them up, amplifying them. Bertoli's lips wrapped around one of his nipples, sucking.

  He whimpered, shifting, head shaking as he tried to focus.

  "Should have put a sound in first,” murmured Bertoli, lips sliding across to his other nipple.

  Thank goodness Bertoli forgot. Otherwise, Dent thought he might really forget how to breathe altogether.

  The vibrations went on and on, Bertoli's tongue and lips teasing his nipples and belly mercilessly. When it was almost too much, the vibrations ceased. “I'm taking it out now, and you may release,” Bertoli told him, mouth dropping over his prick as the bumpy head was pulled out of him.

  Heat flooded him, body tight, shaking violently. “Bertoli!"

  His lover hummed around his prick, sucking hard, encouraging his orgasm, encouraging him to let go of the liquid inside him. His balls were rolled, his inner thighs caressed, and then Bertoli's thumb pushed at his hole, just breaching it before retreating.

  His body emptied, his cry echoing through the room.

  The humming and suction grew stronger, Bertoli's head bobbing on his cock, tongue slapping at his skin. His balls were fondled, cupped, played with. His eyes shut and he groaned, rocked in the bonds, trying to get more.

  Bertoli's little finger pushed against his hole, pushed into him. It was thin and short, but warm, brushing against skin made supersensitive by the recent vibrations.

  "I need...” His eyes rolled, heart pounding furiously.

  Bertoli pulled off him suddenly and he cried out at the sudden lack of that hot suction around his prick. But a moment later, he realized that his lover was climbing the table and settling between his legs. “Me, my dear. You need me."

  "Yes. Yes, please. Please. I need you."

  Bertoli laughed, the sound bright and lovely. Two slick fingers slid into him, curling and stretching, nudging the gland inside him.

  "There, there. Again.” Lightning filled him, top to bottom.

  "Yes, my dear. I will give you what you need, what you want.” Bertoli bent to kiss him, lips sliding against his own, tongue pushing into his mouth like those fingers pushed into his body.

  "You...” He opened, rocking, aching. Needing.

  "Oh, yes. Me. Yes.” Bertoli's breath pushed into his mouth, filling his lungs with the taste and flavor of his lover. The fingers spreading him open moved away, Bertoli shifting, the hot, wet-tipped prick pushing at him now.

  He groaned, stretching, spreading, accepting his Bertoli in deep. Bertoli's prick felt unbelievable against nerves and skin that had been sensitized almost beyond bearing. It was exactly what he needed and Bertoli knew that, his soft, confirming laughter warming the air, Bertoli's cock filling him up.

  "Love. Love.” The words poured from him, over and over.

  "Yes, my dear. Yours. Your love.” Bertoli began to move, his thrusts long and slow, the pleasure building in steady waves.

  "Mine.” He tried to reach for Bertoli, to hold his lover close, but his wrists were still bound.

  "Yes, oh, yes.” Bertoli's eyes held him, saw right into him and suddenly Bertoli had undone the cuffs, freed his arms so that he could touch. Bertoli always knew what he needed.

  "Yes!” He wrapped his arms around the lean form, held on tight, fingers sliding down Bertoli's spine.

  Bertoli laughed, mouth meeting his as his long, hard cock pushed into Dent again and again, making his sensitized skin sing. His fingers found Bertoli's ass, squeezing, tugging them closer together, pulling Bertoli deeper.

  One of Bertoli's hands slid between them, fingernails catching first one nipple and then the other as tongue and cock fucked him with quicker and quicker motions. They were together in this, bodies straining as one to find their pleasure.

  "Soon. Soon. Fuck.” He pulled hard. “Bertoli."

  "Together.” Bertoli laughed, hand pushing down further to wrap around his cock. “Together, my dear."

  "Yes. Yes. Together. Love. Fuck.” He was aching, balls tight and drawn up.

  Bertoli's hand squeezed his cock, a fingernail scraping past the slit at the top as the long cock inside him slammed into his gland. “Now!” Bertoli cried out. “Now, Dent."

  Heat poured out of him in devastating pulses, his entire body shaking, going tight.

  "Love!” Bertoli cried out, shuddering above him. Heat shot into him, burning the pleasure into his insides.

  Panting, Bertoli rested above him, the skinny arm holding his lover up beginning to tremble.

  He tugged Bertoli down, holding on. “Yes."

  Bertoli nuzzled his neck, humming and chuckling. “Oh, don't let me crush you, my dear."

  As if his gaunt lover was heavy. “I'll do my best.” He squeezed Bertoli's cock, breathed. Rested.

  Bertoli shivered and moaned a little, his lover's soft laughter beginning anew. “So good, Dent. You make me feel like I have never before."

  "Good.” He nuzzled Bertoli's neck, hummed. “Good."

  "Yes.” That laughter rang out again. “Although I'm a little worried I'm going to fall off you and land on the floor!"

  "So, you have to be very very still."

  "Oh-ho, a test is it?” Bertoli chuckled. “I am not one to fidget and fiddle, but this might be a challenge to me after a few moments.” A kiss was pressed to his shoulder. “Perhaps I need to rethink my table..."

  He laughed, grinned. “Maybe. Maybe you should."

  "It could be a little wider and ... softer.” Bertoli's fingers moved on him, touching his skin all over. “Not so comfortable you'd fall asleep. After all, this is not our bedroom, but where we perform our scenes.” Bertoli withdrew a little, as if coming to himself and remembering exactly where they were.

  He let Bertoli go, unsure if he'd pushed Bertoli past some personal barrier.

  Bertoli kissed him warmly, though, before sliding out. “Inside you is a wonderful place to be, my dear.” Then Bertoli was wiping him clean and undoing his ankle cuffs, massaging the muscles of his legs. “Come, now. We can cuddle in our bed. Hold each other and talk."

  "Bossy man.” He stood, swaying a bit.

  His words had Bertoli cackling gleefully, one thin arm around his waist, supporting him.

  "Maybe just a little."

  "A little.” They settled on the bed with a thud, both curling up.

  "How are you feeling?” Bertoli asked him, fingers sliding on him in random, warm patterns.

  "Loved.” Warm. Quiet.

  "Oh.” Bertoli melted against him. “Good. Good.” His lover laughed. “I have much joy today, my dear."

  He nodded and sighed, eyes closing. His eyelids were both kissed and Bertoli shifted closer against him before settling.

  "It was a good day, my dear. We will have many more."

  Dent nodded. It was becoming easier and easier to believe that. He held his lover and let sleep take him; let it overtake him instead of escaping into it.

  * * * *

  Bertoli hummed as he dressed, pulling out an outfit of softest cotton for Dent as well. Just a simple pair of pants and a light yellow shirt that pulled on over his head. It was cheery and would not make Dent look overly pale.

  Things had been going very well since his chat with Mal. He and Dent were finding themselves again, and it was such a joy to have Dent taking pleasure in his body once more. Perhaps he would push Dent back in his shell again with his plans for the day, but he knew that it was important he keep pushing the walls of Dent's comfort zone.

  He brought the man's clothing to the bathroom and laughed at his timing—Dent was just stepping from the tub. “I have an outfit for you, my dear. Comfortable and flattering. Good perhaps for receiving visitors?"

  "Visitors? Who?” Dent took the clothes, curious.

  "Hercules and Mal. You know them both and they can be trusted not only to understand when it is time for them to go, but they will be discreet as well.” He'd considered inviting Kestrel
, knowing how much the dear man had been worried, but Lutrell thought his ... flutteriness ... might be too much for Dent. “I'm having a small but elegant meal delivered."

  "I ... I don't know if I'm ready to share a meal with anyone. I don't know if I can yet.” Dent put the shirt on, the pants, looking fine.

  Lutrell chuckled. “And I know that you can.” He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the shirt, enjoying the feeling of Dent's muscles beneath his fingertips. “You remember your safeword, my dear?"

  "Nightlight.” Dent stepped closer, frowning. “I hate it when we have to open the door."

  He slid his hands over both of Dent's shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “I know. But it is the only way you will learn to believe that it can be opened, that people can be let in, and that nothing bad will happen to us in doing so."

  "I don't believe it. I don't know if I ever will."

  "You will,” Lutrell told Dent because he would not give up on his lover. Not if it took all their lives before Dent could do whatever he wanted without fears chasing him down and stopping him.

  The door chimed and he looped his hand in Dent's arm, started walking them down the hall. “You know these men, Dent. They are your friends and want only the best for you. Remember that, yes?"

  "Yes. Yes. Next time I need more notice.” Dent was only beginning to stiffen, to worry.

  Lutrell nodded. He could do that. He could tell Dent just before he got out of his bath instead of just after.

  They arrived at the door. “I would like you to open it, Dent. You may ask who it is first, of course."

  Dent gave him a near panicked look, but hit the comm. “Who is it?"

  "Hi Dent. It's Herc. And Malachi.” Hercules’ voice was calm, quiet.

  Lutrell gave Dent a soft kiss on the cheek. “Now, open the door."

  "I...” Those eyes, so dark, so lovely, stared at him, begged him for strength, for support.

  He smiled and took Dent's hand in his own, brought it over to the palm lock, and they opened it together. “Very good,” he said quietly. “I am very proud of you."

  Dent was pale as milk when the door opened, not regaining any color until the door shut and was locked again. Malachi gave Dent a smile, the look almost warm—for Mal—and a nod.