The Gilded Mirror

by L. M. Somerton

  “I don’t spank you anywhere close to enough,” Gage grumbled, ignoring Carson’s pitying expression.

  “That we can agree on,” Landry said, tartly.

  “It is verging on tropical in here tonight,” Carson said. “I should have worn less.” In his lap, Petey—clad only in a pair of gold cycling shorts—sucked in a breath and blushed to the roots of his hair.

  “I think Petey concurs,” Gage said. “Me too. Leather wasn’t designed for nightclubs, that’s for sure.”

  Landry stroked his thigh. “It’s so worth it, though.” He walked his fingers closer to Gage’s groin. “Especially when it’s so soft and tight and tactile.”

  “I give up. Why don’t you and Petey go dance. Work off some of that brat you have going on.”

  “Yay!” Landry was on his feet in an instant. He hopped from one foot to the other while Petey and Carson engaged in a long kiss.

  “Go have fun,” Carson said to Petey as they disengaged lips, “Stay where I can see you, though.”

  “’kay!” Petey bounced, happy as a puppy with a new toy. Landry grabbed Petey’s hand then dragged him over to the dance floor. Shimmering heat rose from the mass of bodies already jumping to the beat, and Landry, who normally liked to be in the thick of things, was content to stay near the edge of the illuminated floor.

  “We can breathe over here,” he shouted at Petey. “And Carson can watch you.” He grinned and gestured toward their table where both Carson and Gage were staring directly at them.

  “I don’t see Gage looking anywhere else.”

  “Why would he want to when he has all this to ogle?” Landry ran a hand down his bare chest, and Petey snorted with laughter. They danced for a while, bopping happily and holding hands. Landry could sense Gage’s constant watch and wiggled his ass in blatant provocation, raising his arms so that his shorts dipped even lower. They only covered the bare essentials as it was, so he was skating on the edge of decency.

  “You’re gonna be in so much trouble!” Petey mouthed the words. There was no chance of holding a conversation over the pounding music without screaming.

  “I hope so,” Landry mouthed back, grinning. His smile faded when a big body pressed against his back. He spun around but before he could direct a cutting ‘back off’ the bearded redhead gave him a rueful grin before slipping into the crowd. Landry spun back to face Petey to find Gage wedged between them, glowering. Carson was at Petey’s back, arms wrapped around Petey doing something that was part slow dance part pornography.

  “I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?” Gage stripped off his T-shirt then knotted it into his belt.

  Landry shook his head, wishing he had a pocket hanky to mop up his drool. Holy fuck, I have the hottest boyfriend in Seattle. He traced a heart on Gage’s chest. Gage drew him closer, one hand on each ass cheek, until they were firmly lodged together. He couldn’t dance to save his life, but Landry forgave him, accepting the slow grind that created interesting friction in his shorts. He was in danger of coming right there on the dance floor, not that anyone would have cared but it would be gooey and icky and best saved for when they were both naked and horizontal. Gage wasn’t helping as he massaged Landry’s rubber-wrapped ass, dipping a finger under the clinging fabric every now and again.

  “Had enough of dancing yet?” Gage murmured, nipping at Landry’s neck.

  “I could take a break,” Landry squeaked. “Water. Cold water would be nice… Dumped in my lap, preferably. Or I could go ask the barman if I can sit in the walk-in refrigerator for a while.”

  Gage grabbed his wrist and tugged him from the dance floor, steering him toward one of the curtained playrooms. They weren’t private, anyone was welcome to indulge their voyeuristic streak, but they remained curtained off from the wider club audience and dungeon masters controlled the numbers who were permitted to watch.

  The space Gage had chosen was empty of people, but in the center sat a spherical frame constructed from aluminum tubing. Gage positioned Landry with his back to one of the curved uprights.

  “Lean back, hands above your head and grab the pole.”

  Landry relaxed his body against the curve, hissing as the cold metal made contact with his sweat-slicked skin. Gage used black bondage tape to bind his wrists above his head while a second piece of tape went around his throat.

  “Not too tight?” Gage asked.

  The question was academic. Gage was far too expert a Dom to put something around Landry’s throat that would affect his breathing. He was held in place, but could sing an aria if he needed to. More tape went around his waist. He was bent in a graceful arc with a view of the black painted ceiling, so when Gage stripped his shorts down to his thighs, Landry hadn’t seen it coming. He moaned as the cool metal tube settled between his ass cheeks. He was hard as iron, something that didn’t change when Gage bound his ankles to the base of the sphere.

  “I thought this might be more fun than a spanking.” Gage trailed the strands of a suede flogger across Landry’s chest. Landry parted his lips then licked them. He wanted Gage to get started. The anticipation was killing him, and he was desperate to come. He could hear the murmur of voices and knew an audience was gathering. That just made him harder. Bored of the ceiling, he closed his eyes. He wiggled as much as he was able, trying to encourage Gage to get a move on. Needless to say it had zero effect.

  “Who’s in charge here, Landry?” Gage flicked each of Landry’s nipples in turn.

  “You are, Sir!”

  “Yes, I am and after that display you put on, on the dance floor, I feel the need to exert my authority.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose, Sir. Okay, I did… But only because I wanted you to watch me.”

  “Not to draw the attention of every other Dom in the club?”

  “No! As if I would do that… It was an unintended consequence of innocent actions.” Landry was quite glad he couldn’t see Gage’s expression because he guessed it would be somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

  “Nobody in this entire club would ever describe you as innocent, my love.” There was a ripple of laughter from the onlookers.

  “I feel attacked,” Landry muttered.

  “Tell me you’re not exactly where you want to be,” Gage said. He jacked Landry’s cock a few times. “Bound, awaiting my pleasure, watched by a bunch of appreciative spectators.” That got Gage a smattering of applause.

  “I’m glad everyone finds this so entertaining,” Landry muttered.

  “I’m not hearing your safe word.”

  There was no way Landry wanted what was happening to stop. He craved the warmth of the flogger against his skin, the sting that would bring him a rush of endorphins, the knowledge that Gage’s attention was entirely his.

  “I thought so.” Gage sounded smug, confident. “Gonna towel you off a bit before I start.” The rough towel not only served to wipe away perspiration, it also sensitized Landry’s skin, setting his nerve endings tingling. He anticipated the first blow of the flogger from the air moving against his skin. Gage began with soft strokes, targeting different parts of Landry’s body in an apparently random order. Heat built slowly. Occasionally, a bit more weight would cause a sting to a thigh, a nipple. Gage worked the flogger a little harder, and Landry’s breath grew ragged. He floated, absorbing the pain. He rubbed his crack against the metal pole. No longer cold, it had absorbed the heat of his body. His cock bounced and the very tips of the flogger caught his shaft. He screamed and at the same time Gage squeezed his balls. Landry came with a jubilant shout, and Gage helped him ride the wave of a juddering orgasm until he sagged in his bonds, exhausted and drained. On the edge of his awareness, he heard voices congratulating Gage, but they faded until he was sure that he and Gage were alone.

  Gage peeled the bondage tape away leaving the piece around Landry’s waist until last so that he didn’t collapsed to the floor. When that was gone, Gage was ready with a hug and a soft blanket. He sank to his knees bringing Landry with
him, cradling him, stroking his hair. Landry didn’t know or care what he was saying just that he was there and that he was safe in Gage’s arms.

  “I think you may have to carry me home,” Landry murmured, when he had recovered a little.

  “I’ve ordered a cab to haul your lazy ass home. It should be here in ten minutes or so.”

  “Ten minutes is good.” Landry sank lower, groping for Gage’s zipper.

  “You don’t have to.” Gage stroked his shoulder.

  “Try and stop me,” Landry muttered. He freed Gage’s cock, which was hot, the tip slick with pre-cum. Landry took it into his mouth, ducking his head until Gage’s pubic hair tickled his nose. He sucked hard as he drew back then plunged down again until Gage’s shaft hit the back of his throat. He swallowed and Gage came, the hot spurts coating Landry’s tongue as he lifted his head a little. Gage wound his fingers in Landry’s hair, holding him in place until he was done, then cuddled him close.

  “Thank you.”

  “Very much my pleasure,” Landry murmured, still floating. “What happened to Petey?”

  “They watched us for a while then Carson took him somewhere private. Carson will bring him home when they’re done doing whatever it is they’re doing. You, I want in our bed, impaled on my cock.”

  “Sweet talker,” Landry giggled, pulling his blanket closer.

  “You want chocolates and roses or another orgasm?” Gage grumbled.

  “You should know better than to make me choose between chocolate and something else,” Landry said. “But on this occasion, I’ll take the orgasm, please. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t appreciate the occasional bunch of flowers…”

  “So demanding. Gonna gag you later then fuck you until can’t walk.”

  “Is the cab here yet?” Suddenly, Landry couldn’t wait to get home. He wanted Gage’s arms around him and his cock deep inside him.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Landry was regretting some of his life choices as he curled into the passenger seat of Gage’s Jeep, clutching an extra-large latte like a lifeline.

  “Why did you keep me up so late?” he whined, breathing in the aroma of life-restoring caffeine.

  “I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” Gage said.

  “That’s because you gagged me.”

  “And those minutes of blissful silence, were wonderful. Those little squeaky noises you started making were great too.”

  Landry sighed. “It’s not fair. Why do you look like you had a straight eight hours’ beauty sleep while I look like I’ve been dragged through a field by a herd of stampeding wildebeest?”

  “Giving you a thorough fucking is as good as a rest to me. It was a good night. That scene at the club was hot as hell then you got all clingy and cuddly in the cab, which was cute.”

  “You give the best after-care,” Landry admitted. “Trouble is, it just turns me on again.”

  “It sure does. Of course, rubbing balm into your backside is pretty good for me too.”

  A smile played around Landry’s lips. “It should be, I have a very cute ass.”

  “You can nap if you want to. It’ll be an hour or so before we get to Bellingham.”

  “No, I’ll just feel groggy if I do that. One more coffee stop on the way should do it.”

  “You must have coffee running through your veins, not blood.”

  Landry shrugged. “Works for me. Did you say that the newspaper office will be open when we get there?”

  “Yes. I spoke to a nice lady called Edna who’s going to meet us there. She’s retired but is the key holder in case the alarm goes off because she lives close by. Their recent records are digital, but the older stuff is still on microfiche. She said they don’t have the budget to get it all transferred across yet. Because I’m a trustworthy, reliable detective she said she’d leave us to it. She has her grandkids over for the day so she can’t hang around with us ‘shooting the shit’ as she put it.”

  “She sounds fun! I’m not sure why she thinks detective equals reliable and trustworthy, though—I’ve caught you stealing cookies so many times. Anyhoo, we should concentrate our research on the years just after the war. We won’t have time to go through decade’s worth of stuff.”

  “Agreed. It would be good to take a hike, too. Get some exercise. Check out the terrain to see if it matches your map. I found a trail that seems pretty close.”

  “Okay, as long as you don’t expect me to go scrambling up mountains.”

  “Scrambling is not involved. Talking of the map, we should discuss the postcard you received. I don’t like the idea that James Ellery is messing with your life again.”

  “That sneaky Brit has his fingers in way too many pies,” Landry muttered. “He should stay out of my peach.”

  “I… That sent my mind in entirely the wrong direction. He’s not getting close to your peach pie, sweetheart, and I don’t care whether or not that’s a euphemism.”

  “Good. You’re my Dom. You should always protect my peach pie.” Landry snickered.

  “Lord of the BDSM gods, preserve me. I’ve been thinking about the whole series of events. In hindsight, I don’t believe it was accidental that the flyer for the pop-up flea market landed in my in-tray. Nor do I think it was a twist of fate that the old stallholder put the mirror out just as you turned up a second time. I don’t know how Ellery did it, but he did. I’m certain of it.”

  “That’s a bit of a stretch isn’t it?” Landry took a long gulp of coffee. “He would have had to rely on us deciding to go to the market, visiting the right stall, spotting the mirror…”

  “So explain the postcard then.”

  Landry squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got nothing. I hate it when you’re right all the time.”

  “Score one for me. Did you hide the map somewhere safe?”

  “I did. I found the best place ever.”

  “Don’t tell me. The fewer people that know where it is, the better. Does Petey know?”

  Landry shook his head. “No. He saw the postcard but I’m the only one that knows where the map is.” Landry settled into his seat, watching the scenery rush by. For once the weather was good, the sun bright and, though it was cool, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Gage had cracked the window a little to give them both some fresh air. It smelt different than in the city. Fresher, cleaner.

  “Do you think you would ever want to live outside the city?” Gage asked.

  “Nah, I’m a city boy,” Landry said. “But my folks are looking to buy a cabin somewhere, a place that the whole family could use. If they do, then having somewhere to go every now and again would be great.”

  “Where are they looking?”

  “Somewhere in the San Juan Islands, I think.”

  “Wow. Book us in.”

  “I think we’ll have to join a line, but I have sharp elbows, and my mom loves me best. The Viking twins will have to wait their turn.”

  Gage snorted with laughter. “Your mom loves all her kids equally. She loves me best.”

  “Sadly, that may well be true.” Landry shook his empty coffee cup in disgust. “And I expect you to take full advantage of that favored position when it comes to future weekends away.”

  “Shaking that coffee cup’s not gonna make me stop. You can get a refill once we arrive in Bellingham.”

  Landry pouted and closed his eyes. Maybe he could manage a short doze after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I want to be like Edna when I grow up,” Landry said, scrolling through more microfiche. “Such a cool lady.”

  “You’re only saying that because she brought you hot chocolate with whipped cream and home-made double chocolate chip muffins.”

  “It’s no secret that the way to my heart is through my stomach,” Landry admitted, “but that rainbow beret she had on was spectacular and did you see the skull on the top of her walking stick?”

  “I did. She seemed like a nice lady.”

  “She patted your ch
eek. She thought you were hot.”

  “She was at least seventy-five, Landry.”

  “And that means she can’t appreciate a fine specimen of a man? Don’t be ageist. She’s had more time to decide what floats her boat so you should be honored.”

  “I’m not in the habit of floating boats for old ladies or anyone else. Get back to work.”

  “Slave driver.”

  “I learned everything I know about motivation from Sancha.”

  “Explains a lot, she’d give Genghis Khan a run for his money.” Landry squinted into the viewer. “Don’t tell her I said that. Bellingham in the late 1940s was not the most exciting of places. A new florist opened on Main Street, there was an automobile wreck involving escaped pigs, a local baseball team got beaten, again. Wait, this is more interesting. There’s an article about the local mine opening up a new level and taking on more workers, including… Wait for it… Returning servicemen. Three of them. Royston McKenzie, Kenneth Brown and Albert Everard. Here, look.” Landry slid his chair to one side so that Gage could read the story.

  “For more than thirty years, the men and horses of the Bellingham coalmines toiled beneath the city, using dynamite and muscle power to carve a labyrinth of passageways through a thick coal seam. It’s a bit flowery.” He scrolled rapidly. “It says here that one of the men quit the mine after a coal cart rolled over his leg and left him hospitalized for months. There’s also a note of a fatality when a worker went down into the mine at the start of a shift to check the methane level and triggered an explosion—that was Albert Everard. There’s a picture here from 1947 of workers leaving the mine. It must have been a hard life.”

  “And dangerous,” Landry said. “Edna said the mines closed around 1955, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. She said there are some signs of the old workings on the trail through the gorge. I think we should go take a look, don’t you?”

  “Sure. We have our link with soldiers returning from the war, let’s see if we can match the trail to the map.”

  “We need to lock this place up then return the key to Edna. Her house is on the route to the trailhead so we can drop it off on the way.”