by Kim Dare
Hadley’s other hand came to rest against the paintwork. He frowned as his fingers failed to even try to gain a purchase on the smooth surface so he could push himself away from the wall.
“I’m not some silly little junkie you’ve stumbled upon in a barn, Hadley. If I give you an order, you obey. If I ask you a question, you answer. Understand?”
Hadley closed his eyes for a moment. He was right there with the kind of man he’d been pretty sure only existed in his fantasies, and even if the whole world had stopped making sense, there was only one thing he could ever say to the other man. “Yes, sir.”
Rawlings pulled him away from the wall. Turning him around, he pushed his back against the paintwork.
“If you’re good, and do as you’re told, I’ll make sure you’ll get your fantasy, too. Would you like that, Hadley?”
The constable dropped his attention to somewhere around Rawlings’ shoulder. It was far easier to speak to him once he gave up trying to look him in the eye. “Yes, sir.”
Rawlings hand rested against his chest, holding him against the wall. The heat from his palm quickly soaked into Hadley’s skin as the older man kept him exactly where he wanted him. His touch was strong and steady—reassurance, praise and perfection, all rolled into one.
Without warning, the other man stepped back, putting several feet of cold tile floor between them. Hadley remained exactly where he was, sure that he’d have been ordered to move if Rawlings wanted him to be anywhere other than where he was.
“Tell me the fantasy,” the dominant ordered again.
“Sir?”
Rawlings raised an eyebrow at him. “Is there something about the order you don’t understand?”
Hadley closed his eyes. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stand there, naked in the other man’s hallway and ask him for things that no man in his right mind should want. His throat closed up around the possibility.
“I wanted them to do whatever they wanted, sir,” he managed to rasp out. “My permission wasn’t part of the deal.” What some nameless faceless they wanted. Yes, it was far safer to pretend he could remember a time when the men in his dreams had been someone other than the doctor.
“Then start by telling me what they wanted to do with you.”
Hadley swallowed. That was easier. The other side of the equation made far more sense than his own. “They wanted to tie me up, sir.” To have him helpless and at their mercy—that was something it made sense for someone to want.
“With your own handcuffs?” Rawlings asked.
Hadley blinked his eyes open, his gaze fell on the floor, just in front of the dominant’s feet. As he dragged his gaze up the other man’s legs, a glint of light caught the handcuffs where they dangled from Rawlings’ fingers.
The dominant stepped forward, closing the gap between them once more. “Do you know the main difference between the men you imagined and me, Hadley?”
Hadley shook his head. His breath caught in his throat at the possibility that the other man might somehow guess there were no differences at all.
“They might have let you get away with playing reluctant. I won’t.” Rawlings lifted a hand and slid it through Hadley’s hair, seeming to assess every strand that passed through his fingers.
“I liked it when…when they tied me up, sir.” Eyes closed very tight. Hadley rushed the words out as fast as he could, stumbling over the half-lie as he went.
Hadley didn’t open his eyes as Rawlings’ fingers stroked along his jaw line and tilted his head back.
“Good boy.” Rawlings whispered the words against Hadley’s lips.
Hadley whimpered as they mouths touched for the first time.
Rawlings didn’t seem in any particular rush to turn the brief contact into a real kiss. Hadley parted his lips in invitation, but the other man’s mouth remained nothing more than a tease at the edge of his senses.
The older man chuckled slightly. The air brushed against Hadley’s lips.
“Good boy,” Rawlings repeated. His tongue caressed Hadley’s lips as it finally slid into his mouth.
Hadley reached out to him.
Rawlings pulled back. The look in the older man’s eye was correction enough. Hadley dropped his hand back to his side. A second later, Rawlings resumed the kiss as if the interruption never occurred.
Hadley leaned back against the wall and simply gave himself up to the kiss, to everything, until Rawlings eventually stepped back. Hadley automatically tried to step forward. Another look put him back against the wall.
“Hands.”
Hadley looked down at his hands, then at the cuffs, still hanging from the dominant’s fingers. He held out his hands. The restraints were locked in place in seconds. Hadley stared at them as if he had never seen the pretty bits of metal before in his life. He couldn’t look away. They held him enchanted until Rawlings reached out and hooked his fingers through the short chain linking the cuffs.
The older man tugged at the glistening silverwork, finally permitting Hadley to step away from the wall.
His eyes remained fixed on the other man’s hand as Rawlings took several steps back. He took the same number of strides forward, keeping pace with the dominant as Rawlings led him out of the little hallway and into another room.
The older man let go of the cuffs and took another few paces back.
“Stay there.”
Hadley did as he was told, his toes curling against the tiles as he struggled to let the dominant move further and further away from him without uttering a single protest.
Rawlings watched the younger man very carefully, reading his body language as the seconds slowly passed.
The submissive managed to remain completely still for far longer than Rawlings expected. Finally, the constable’s fingers twitched. His hands curled into fists as he seemed to fight against an instinct to move. Toward his master—Rawlings didn’t doubt that was the only way Hadley wanted to move.
“Hands on the back of your head.”
Hadley closed his eyes for a moment before he obeyed the order. His movements were slow, as if he was fighting his way through treacle, but he laced his fingers neatly on the back of his scalp without any comment.
While the submissive remained on display in the middle of the room, Rawlings walked around him several times studying him carefully from every angle. He’d been imagining what he’d look like when he wasn’t hidden behind his uniform for months. Now that he had him in his playroom, he couldn’t help but make the most of the opportunity to see how accurate his mental picture had been.
He was stunning. His skin was pale, but his build was strong—and Rawlings had no doubt he’d look even more glorious in bondage.
Moving closer to him, the dominant traced a few of the lines where the leather would lay with his fingertips before turning his attention to correcting the younger man’s stance.
Pulling his shoulders back, Rawlings encouraged him to stand straighter, prouder. A touch of his well-polished boot to the younger man’s ankles placed the submissive’s feet shoulder width apart.
He took the silent corrections very nicely, allowing his temporary master to arrange him in whatever position would please him best. When he was satisfied with the submissive’s posture, Rawlings took several paces back.
Folding his arms across his chest, he studied the other man’s reactions just as much as his body.
Hadley’s eyes had dropped closed at some point. He blinked his eyes open as he seemed to sense his master had put some distance between them. The younger man’s doubts suddenly seemed to return. He began to lower his arms.
“When you have permission to move, I’ll tell you.”
“Yes, sir.” Hadley resumed his previous position.
Rawlings walked around him again. He stroked across the small of the other man’s back as he made his final decision on exactly how he was going to bind the submissive that night. Hadley jerked away from his touch as if scalded.
“Do I need to repea
t my order, Hadley?”
“When I have permission to move, you’ll tell me, sir,” the constable recited.
Rawlings smiled. “Memorizing the commands is a pretty start,” he said as he walked around to face him. “When you begin to actually follow them, I might begin to be impressed.”
“I’d like that, sir.” Hadley dragged his gaze up to meet his master’s eyes as he said it. Rawlings had no doubt that he’d have kept the words back if he could have. They’d been all submission, full of longing for a master’s praise as much as his control.
Rawlings moved behind him once more. Settling his knuckles at the top of the submissive’s spine, he slowly, traced them down the middle of the younger man’s back to the base of his shoulder blades and back up.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“What?” Hadley tried to turn around the face him.
Rawlings’ knuckled tapped the little knot of bone that topped his spine. “Recite.”
Hadley blinked. A second later, he resumed his original position. “You’ll tell me when I have permission to move, sir.”
“Good boy. I’m going to enjoy exploring that little knack for parroting back orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rawlings smiled as he began to stroke his knuckles up and down his back again. “Are you a virgin?”
He didn’t try to turn again. The answer sounded almost calm. “No, sir.”
Another stroke down his spine. This time the contact traced a little further down the vertebra. “Then there was a last time you had sex. Answer the original question.”
“A few weeks ago, sir.”
“In a relationship?”
Hadley shook his head.
“I’m right in assuming there’s no ongoing relationship?” Rawlings pressed.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” So good. Rawlings wondered if the other man had any idea how glad he was to finally have that confirmed.
Rawlings’ knuckles made their way up, then down, his spine again. They strayed even lower that time.
Hadley’s head dropped forward. He pushed his arse out slightly in instinctive offering. Rawlings let his knuckles brush down to the cleft between his cheeks and across his hole.
A deep breath shifted Hadley’s spine under Rawlings’ fingers as he toyed with him, letting his fingers brush against his hole but never lingering to play there for as long as he was sure the other man wished he would.
“Every bit of you belongs to me, Hadley. I decide which pieces of you I’ll take an interest in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rawlings drew a line across his back, then another, and another. “You’re very pale. Your skin would take the whip very prettily.”
Hadley’s knuckles turned white on the back of his head but he stayed silent.
“No comment?” Rawlings prompted.
The constable cleared his throat. “You didn’t give me permission to speak, sir.”
“I didn’t tell you that you need permission to speak either.” Rawlings’ drew another line across his back.
Hadley took a deep breath. “I told you I’d do whatever you said. I keep my word, sir. If you want to whip me, I’ll take it.”
“Do you like the idea of being whipped?”
Apparently, Hadley didn’t have an answer prepared in advance. Rawlings let him think it through as he painted several more fingertip lines across his skin.
“I like the idea of not having a choice if I‘m whipped or not, sir.”
A few more lines and Rawlings walked around to face Hadley.
“If you make a habit of coming to this room, sooner or later, I will whip you. Unless I’m very much mistaken, you’ll love it.”
He didn’t give Hadley time to ask what he meant about coming back there. It was too soon to have mentioned the possibility in the first place. Trying to turn that it into a discussion, would have been even more foolish. Rawlings walked over to the other side of the room before the younger man had time to wonder and worry about it. A cage filled one corner. Next to it stood a spanking bench.
“Come here.”
It was a simple arrangement. Leather covered supports for the knees—spaced far enough apart that the submissive’s legs would be spread wide when he knelt upon them. Another higher support for the body, cut into a V at the end where it was joined to the knee supports, and tilted forward slightly, so the kneeler’s buttocks would be offered up very prettily. Rawlings trailed his fingers over the leather as Hadley cautiously obeyed the order.
“Over the bench.”
Rawlings didn’t tell him to remove his hands from the back of his head. They stayed there as Hadley carefully folded his body along the contours of the leather.
Rawlings had already waited what felt like several lifetimes to see him there. He soaked up every detail of him kneeling there, not bound, not chained, just there because he wanted to be.
When Hadley shifted uncomfortably, Rawlings reached out and took hold of one of his hands. Hadley startled a little, but he didn’t try to pull away as Rawlings guided the smaller man’s bound hands off his head and onto a padded leather support beneath the bench. A second later, he’d wrapped wide leather cuffs around the submissive’s wrists, just above the line of his handcuffs.
Moving around the bench, Rawlings methodically buckled the other restraints. Ankles. Knees. Thighs. Strip after strip of leather crossed the constable’s skin.
Another wide strap fastened across the small of his back. Rawlings pulled it tight, prompting Hadley to arch his back and fit his body more snugly against the curves of the bench.
The leather was buttery soft, the restraints were as well padded as the bench itself, letting Rawlings fasten them tightly around the other man’s skin without worrying they would do him any undue harm.
As the last fastening was put in place, the dominant watched Hadley’s shoulders tense as the constable tried to work out how much freedom of movement remained.
Nothing.
He shifted slightly as he seemed to truly realize that every bit of his body was bound in place. The only thing he could move was his head. The younger man looked from side to side, twisting his neck. As he tested his bonds, something inside the submissive seemed to realize just how well restrained he was. The instinct for flight or fight kicked in, but neither response was possible.
Rawlings settled his hand on the back of the submissive’s head. “Hush.”
Neither the word nor his touch made any noticeable difference. Hadley’s attempts to free himself doubled, and there was nothing his master could do to stop his descent into complete panic.
Chapter Three
Hadley tossed his head back, as he pulled ever more frantically at his restraints. His breaths came faster and faster, but no oxygen seemed to make it into his lungs.
Some tiny part of his mind that was still capable of rational thought, wept in shame, knowing he was ruining everything, but instinct still won out over logic. No matter how hard he tried to stop struggling, his muscles wouldn’t co-operate.
Rawlings’ other hand settled calmly against Hadley’s scalp, alongside the first. Fingers spread, he cradled Hadley’s skull, holding his head steady. “That’s fine, sweetheart. Just get it out of your system. You can’t do anything that will hurt you.”
Hadley’s last bit of freedom of movement disappeared under Rawlings grip. His heart raced faster than ever as the sound of his panting breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Every so often, Rawlings made a soft soothing noise in the back of his throat, the same way a skilled horseman might calm a frightened colt put under the saddle for the first time.
A whimper escaped from Hadley in response as he tried to move his head once more. The doctor’s grip on him tightened a fraction, keeping him still and secure. The strength of the other man’s hold on him wrapped around Hadley, blurring together with the bonds around his limbs until it was impossible to tell one from the other, impossible to believe he wasn’t comp
letely cocooned safely in the other man’s touch.
As suddenly as the panic entered him, the energy required to maintain it vanished. Hadley’s limbs fell limp within his restraints. Rawlings’ hands kept his head supported for a few moments before he guided him to turn his face to one side and rest his cheek against the padded leather.
Fingers stroked through his hair, gentling him down. His muscles burned. His whole body ached. But where he expected his limbs to be battered and bruised from their battle with the leather, there was nothing. Rawlings had been right, there was no way he could hurt himself while he was bound that way.
He was perfectly safe, with no way to free himself from that safety.
The panic he expected to rush back into his veins at the idea, failed to materialize as Rawlings’ fingers continued to stroke through his hair. Hadley’s eyes dropped closed, letting everything else fade away, until those fingers were the only thing left in his world.
Hadley finally managed to take a deep breath, and let it out very slowly.
“That’s better,” Rawlings said. A moment later, his hand disappeared from Hadley’s hair.
For several long seconds there was nothing. One footstep sounded on the tiles. Then another. Hadley blinked his eyes open just in time to see Rawlings walk out of his field of vision. The spanking bench put him at just below waist height to the other man. His eyes found their focus just in time to notice that Rawlings was still hard behind his fly. He wasn’t so disgusted with him that he’d lost all interest. Relief swirled inside Hadley, wiping away the last traces of his panic.
“Do you know what I could do with you in this position, Hadley?” It was impossible to tell from the other man’s tone of voice what sort of answer Rawlings expected.
“Whatever you want, sir?” Hadley suggested cautiously. Against all his expectations, the words actually sounded perfectly calm, he felt more serene than he had ever realized was possible.
