Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (31 page)

Hooch considered his answer carefully. “Then I will.” He took a step closer to Matt, nude body almost touching the clothed one, and lowered his voice. “I don’t want to be given choices when it comes to my body.”

“Alright.” Matt hesitation, “I’m still getting used to this,” he confessed.

“So am I.” Hooch said quietly.

A few breaths of silence.

“Coming for a shower? I’ll put that stuff on you afterwards.”

“Yeah, I still have the stench of hot wax in my nose.” Hooch made his way to the bathroom to get the shower started.

Rex watched them go, and then crawled under Hooch’s desk for a nap. They wouldn’t be paying him any attention for a while.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Matt left Hooch still sleeping in their bed to go downstairs to take the early morning class. After bidding farewell to the smaller numbers than usual, because of the long weekend, he went to his office to retrieve the box that he’d kept there since it had arrived the previous week. He’d only tried on the items once, to make sure they fitted, but now was the real deal. He carried it back up to the apartment.

Hooch had woken up in the meantime, showered, shaved, caffeinated and breakfasted, and was doing some work on a large map spread out on the dining table. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Matt answered, putting the box down. “What’cha doing?”

“Planning the next exercise trail run.” Hooch pointed to Matt’s box with his pencil. “What’s that?”

“Ah, well, it’s what I’m wearing tonight,” Matt answered. “Do you want to see or should that be a surprise?” He stopped. “There are change rooms at the club, aren’t there?”

“Of course. I don’t drive there naked with just a collar. It costs shit loads of money, they got everything you could want.” Hooch looked at Matt. “It is up to you if you want me to see it or not.”

He should have known. “Just let me know if it’s ludicrously inappropriate.” Matt opened the lid and lifted out an armful of soft black leather. “What do you think?”

“It’s black leather.” Hooch deadpanned.

“You suggested it.” Matt smoothed out the leather trousers, and something with straps. “I’m not sure about the harness,” he said, “but it looked good on the model.”

“You are aware that no model is as good looking as you are, right?”

Matt snorted at Hooch’s teasing, but started to pull his T shirt over his head anyway. Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he had to sit to wriggle into the tight leather. Knowing his exact measurements from the tux he’d had made for the wedding had helped him get the closest size, which meant that when he stood up, it clung to him like a second skin.

“What do you think?” he asked, looking at Hooch.

“Holy fuck.” Hooch breathed out with obvious approval. “Yeah, those fit. And the harness?”

Matt picked up the tangle of straps and, after working out the arrangements, slipped it over his head. “Help me with the buckles?” he asked, stepping closer to Hooch.

Hooch’s fingers were remarkably gentle as he stroked over Matt’s perfectly smooth and perfectly tanned skin, contrasting with the black of the leather and the metal buckles. Once he’d tightened the harness in all places, he guided Matt with his hands on Matt’s shoulders to turn round and face him. Taking a step back, Hooch looked at him for a long time. “You, Matt Donahue, are motherfucking hot. You look fucking amazing.”

“I have a reputation to uphold, you said,” Matt reminded Hooch. “I thought I’d make an effort.” He looked down at himself, the inevitable result of Hooch’s touch and proximity and the tactile warmth of the leather having the inevitable effect. “What time do you think we should get there? I’ve blocked out all of today in case there’s any prep you want…” he cut himself off, and then corrected “…any prep that needs to be done.”

Hooch acknowledged the correction with an upwards tilt of the corners of his lips. “I usually just shave again and clean myself out, that’s it.
Twenty-hundred hours is a good time, leaves plenty of space for scenes.” His hand almost touched Matt’s hard-on, but stopped short a millimeter before the leather. “May I?”

Matt nodded, mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed, then confirmed. “Touch me.”

Hooch did, palming Matt’s erection as he stepped closer. “Tonight,” his voice had dropped, “you can order me to do anything to anyone, and can allow anyone to do anything to me.”

Matt’s nostrils flared as he tried to stop his knees from buckling. “Yes,” he breathed, “and tonight you’re leaving the collar at home.”

Hooch sucked in a breath. Everything would be different this time. Better.

* * *

They took advantage of a lazy Saturday morning to just chill after Hooch had sucked Matt off, but didn’t get to come in return. Matt spent a lot of time thinking about the night, especially when he started packing his overnight bag for the hotel, which he did with care. A change from his usual method of efficiently throwing a few items into a bag in a few seconds, habits learned in the Marines never leaving him completely.

Hooch didn’t show any signs of preoccupation with the night’s plans, except for retreating to the bathroom for a while, to get cleaned thoroughly. Going commando under a less tight fitting pair of denims than usual, he chose to wear a loose black flannel shirt.

“Ready?” Matt had their bags by the door, keys in hand. Trying not to betray his nervousness. No matter what happened, everything would be different after tonight, though better or worse he had no idea.

Hooch seemed calmer than he usually was when he went to the club. “Yeah, ready. I usually check into the hotel first. You got a twin room?”

Matt nodded. “Yep,” as usual when they were in the States—and especially within this state. “Mandy came and got Rex while you were in the shower, so we’re good to go.”

Hooch picked up the truck keys. “Let’s go.” He seemed relaxed where he usually appeared tense before a visit to the club. All the way on the drive to Raleigh he projected a calm that eventually rubbed off on Matt.

They checked into the hotel, a large, soulless one where they were no more than numbers on a vast database, and went upstairs. “So, what now?” Matt asked, after making sure that the heavy door was securely locked.

“We go to the club.” Hooch smiled. “If you’re ready.”

Matt swallowed and met Hooch’s eyes directly, a calm he didn’t quite feel, but tried to pretend. “I am.” Yes. He’d made the decision to step down this path with Hooch, and now, after putting the markings on Hooch, now was when he would finally find out whether he could go all the way down this road.

Hooch touched Matt’s face. “If you want to leave, or if things get too much too quickly, just call me Hooch. I don’t use safe words for myself, but this is not about safety.” He let his fingertips run down Matt’s face. “No one knows my name. The people there only know me as ‘H’, so if you call me by my name, it’ll get through to me, in whatever situation.”

Leaning into the caress, Matt made a movement that was close enough to a nod. “Let’s go, then.” He said, voice level.

Hooch let Matt through the door first, then slipped the key card into his back pocket as he followed him to the elevator. The ride to the club was short and silent. They were greeted by staff in reception, in the same perfectly efficient and discreet manner as always, handing a brand new members’ card to Matt, explaining how it functioned simultaneously as key card and as purchasing card at the bar and restaurant. A young man, dressed in a tailored suit that showed off every line and angle of his body, and with a narrow black leather collar around his neck, led them through to the changing area, which was as scrupulously clean and as well-furnished as the rest of the place. Instead of lockers there were personalized wardrobe spaces, accessible via the members’ card, and comfortable changing rooms to provide privacy for those who wished it. Hooch pointed to one of the doors with a questioning look on his face.

Matt, who had been silent all the way through, comparing the memories of his only visit to the club four years ago and the new areas he was seeing now, looked in the direction that Hooch was pointing. “Is there anything I need to keep in mind before I get changed?” he asked, feeling strangely calm even though he could feel his heartbeat up to his ears.

Hooch opened the changing room door with his card. “I suggest you observe in the beginning. You get a lot of clues from how the other people react to our arrival.”

Matt gave him a quizzical look as they entered, but remembered Hooch’s prediction that he’d be ‘a celebrity.’ He put his bag on one of the benches as Hooch closed the door and started to undress.

When he was naked, Hooch turned to look at the full-length mirror with a sense of fascination, before focusing on Matt. “Need help with the buckles?”

Matt had been admiring Hooch in the mirror too, the metal and the ink on the smooth body. He had managed the trousers on his own, but still held the straps of the harness in his hands. “Yes,”

Hooch slipped the harness onto Matt, calloused fingers caressing the smooth skin as he went along. His touches seemed almost reverent, as he closed the buckles and adjusted the leather until it sat perfectly. Their eyes met in the mirror, and the contrast between the nude body with its metal and ink, and the body in black skin tight leather and combat boots was stunning. “I have never been that naked.” Hooch murmured.

Matt turned, hands touching first the barbells in Hooch’s nipples and then trailing behind to the tattoo, over the bare flesh.
His
marks, all fresh and still healing. His marks, on Hooch. Their eyes met, in person and not in the mirror. “No, you’re not naked. You wear my marks. You’ll never be rid of them. Or me.”

The effect of Matt’s words on Hooch were evident, his cock half-hard. “Does that mean I’ve reached the goal yet?”

Remembering back to the talk in the kitchen. “When I said that I didn’t know, that was the truth.” Matt began, “but I think the reason why I didn’t know whether you had got there was because you’ve always been there. From the start. From the day you didn’t walk out of that mud hut in Saudi, and the day you turned up at my door after we’d both left the Gulf. We’re in this together, no matter what happens.”

Hooch smiled, his emotions showing on his face, usually bottled up and locked away. “Thank you.” Just that. “Ready?”

Matt took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

Hooch unlocked the door then handed the card to Matt to keep it. “It’s a first for me as well,” he said, as he waited for Matt to step out first. “I’ve never seen the place nor anyone in it.”

Matt slipped the card into a pocket cleverly hidden in the low waistband of the trousers, before raising an eyebrow at Hooch, and remembering that Hooch had said he was blindfolded at the club. “Let’s go, then. I wonder if they’ve redecorated since we got the tour the first time round.”

The door closed behind them with a soft sound, and so did the next one, as they exited the main changing area. As they stepped out into the hallway towards the theatre, Hooch slotted himself a step behind and to the side of Matt. It surprised him how easy it was, and how he didn’t have to watch his steps nor think about his speed, perfectly in sync with Matt. He should have known, after all these years, but this was new territory. Some people they encountered openly stared at them, as if trying to figure out who they were, while others kept their eyes down, yet others again appraising Hooch’s entirely nude body, and Matt’s perfectly sculpted one.

When they reached the main room, it took only a few seconds, before a male voice called out in disbelief “H?”

Remembering what Hooch had said earlier, Matt turned around to face Hooch who kept his gaze straight ahead, but focused on Matt the moment he looked at him. Only Hooch, with his attuned senses and knowing Matt so well, could see how he steadied himself. “Onto the stage and kneel.”

Hooch obeyed immediately, moved the few steps to the raised platform in the middle of the crowd, and sank down to his knees. Hands behind his back, staring straight ahead and into the distance once more. Kneeling in full view of everyone.

Matt raised his voice to cut through the sound of the people around them. “Is that who you call H?”

“Yes.” The male voice that had called out earlier was heard again, as the man stepped closer. In his late thirties, the disbelief on his face, but not his voice. “You wouldn’t be…” he trailed off, “of course you are, you’re his Master.”

“Owner.” Matt corrected and a murmur rose across the crowd. Like waves of amazement and respect rippling through subs and doms, males and females alike.

Another man stepped out of the crowd. Tall, broad, bearded, thick dark hair over even thicker muscles. “Allow me to touch?” he asked Matt.

If Hooch recognized either of the voices, he showed no reaction.

Matt held the other man’s eye for a fraction longer than was comfortable, then nodded, inclining his head towards Hooch.

The man went across and took Hooch’s chin in his hand, tilting the head up to inspect the face. Only Matt could read Hooch so well, he saw the minuscule jump in his muscles, as if controlling the urge to attack the man. “Dark brown,” the man commented. He checked the smoothness of Hooch’s skin, tweaked the freshly pierced nipples, which made Hooch’s nostrils flare. One large hand took hold of Hooch’s half-hard cock, the other gripped his smooth balls, giving both a brutal squeeze. Hooch’s cock reacted instantly. The man looked up with an approving look, but before he could say anything, Matt called out: “Turn round.”