oneforluck

One For Luck

© 2012 by Sean Michael

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Sean Michael, 2515 Bank St., P.O. Box 40001, Ottawa, ON, K1V 0W8.

Printed in Canada.

Previously published by Torquere Press electronic edition / 2012

2nd Edition / May 2015

One for Luck

Sean Michael

Michael stomped a little on his way up to the door of the Club. He wasn’t sure he fucking wanted to be there tonight. The ER had been insane, the doctors snarling, bitching.

And then, just as he was heading home for a long bath and possibly a beer, he’d gotten a message. “I expect you at the club at eight. Don’t be late.”

That left him in a quandary -- his shift ended at seven and there was no way he could get home, shave and clean up, and not be late. Asshole.

And of course, when he pushed the doors to Shady Business open, the place was fucking busy and everyone was dressed nicely, or you know, in their collar and leash and not much else. Well, if Gar wanted him in something besides scrubs, the asshole could have given him a day’s notice.

And who was the first person he ran into as he looked for Gar? Grey fucking Shade himself, owner of the Club and here he was, wearing his bloody scrubs.

“Sir.” Fuck. Fuck a Doodle Do.

Grey, tall and intimidating, looked him up and down. “A little underdressed today, wouldn’t you say, Michael?”

He counted to twenty. Twice. “I had to make a choice between punctuality and formalwear, Sir.”

Shade’s lips twitched up into a smile. “You’re well-trained, boy.”

“Thank you, Sir.” If only Garth thought so.

“I’d better walk with you to your master.”

“Yes, Sir.” Goodie. He swore if Gar was going to ride his ass tonight, he was going to lose his shit.

He followed a half a step behind Shade, the man leading him through the main club to the far side of the place. His mouth opened in surprise as he saw the balloons, a half dozen or so of their friends, and the huge banner that read “Happy birthday, Michael.”

He blinked. Looked at Gar. “I forgot.”

Tall and muscled, his dark hair offset by the white silk shirt he wore, Gar gave Michael a grin and came over. “Happy birthday, boy.”

“Thank you, Master.” He would have hugged the man, but he was a little gross. “I could go change?”

“You know where the showers are if you need them,” murmured Shade. “And on that note, I have to check on the supplies in the dungeons, so I’ll wish you a happy birthday, Michael.” Shade gave him a grin and headed for the main club room.

Gar chuckled as Shade left, then all his attention turned to Michael. “You really did forget, didn’t you?”

“I was working. You know me.” He smiled into those warm green eyes, letting the love there pour over him.

“I do know you.” Gar grinned down at him. “Why do you think I ordered you to be here at eight?” Bending, Gar brought their mouths together and took a kiss, long and hard, leaving him breathless.

He reached up, holding onto Gar’s upper arms, the muscles jerking and rippling under his fingers.

When the kiss ended, Gar smiled. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

“Thank you.” He was beginning to feel a little like an idiot. Of course, he was also a little hurt -- no one at the hospital had remembered? No one? Fuckers.

“You can shower later. Right now I want you to strip for your birthday spanking.” Gar pointed to the little stage in the corner of the room.

“Just like that?” He wasn’t anywhere near in a headspace for this. Hell, he hadn’t even remembered his birthday and he needed to unwind a minute, breathe. Something. Shit. “Okay.” He was about two and a half seconds from a temper tantrum. Like a real screaming, kicking, fighting tantrum.

One of Gar’s eyebrows went up. “Okay...?”

“Okay, Master.” He sighed softly to himself and stripped off, telling himself to just deal with this, get it over with, and then there would be a shower and food and maybe cake, time with Garth that wasn’t stolen from work.

Gar didn’t let him go right to the stage, instead he was drawn close and Gar’s big hands slid over him, warming his skin. He was encouraged to lean in, rest against Gar’s shoulder and breathe, fill his lungs with the almost-spicy scent that was as familiar as his own. His muscles started trembling as they tried to remember how to relax, to ease.

Gar’s touches turned more into a massage. “You’re all wound up, baby. You need to relax -- I want you to enjoy your birthday spanking.”

“It was a bad day.” He shook his head at himself. A really bad one, but Gar always had his back. Always. He knew that.

“Oh, baby.” Gar hugged him in even closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too, but it’s over and you...” He took a deep breath. “You made it better.” He grinned. It was a little irritating, actually, how Gar did that, knew what he needed.

“Good.” Gar took his mouth in another kiss, this one completely stealing his breath. Then his ass was smacked. “How many swats is it? Forty? Fifty?” Gar winked at him.

“Look, old man...”

Gar growled at him. Fuck, he did love that sound. His body started to stiffen, cock filling enough to slide along Gar’s thigh.

“I think you’re ready for that spanking.” Gar’s hand slid along his back to grab his ass and squeeze.

“Yes, Master.” He felt like he could breathe, like his skin was on the right body.

Gar stripped down to just his leather pants, and took Michael’s hand, leading him to the stage. Their area of the club grew hushed in anticipation as their friends here waited for them to start.

The quiet was another level of comfort, the walk just long enough for him to settle into his head space.

Gar led him right up the stairs to the padded bench. “There’ll be twenty-nine swats. One for every year, and one for good luck.” Gar sat first, patted his legs.

“Yes, Master.” He draped himself over the familiar thighs, loving the way Gar took his weight.

One of Gar’s hands slipped beneath his belly, making sure his prick was between the leather-clad thighs, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“Oh...” The sound slid out of him, soft enough that only Gar would hear it. And he heard Gar’s low, pleased hum, a sound just for him.

“Birthday spanking. Count, please.”

“Yes, Sir.” He waited for the first blow, moaning out a “one” at that first, solid slap. With that first spank, the rest of the club disappeared entirely, the world fading to just him and Gar.

“This is for you.” Another solid hit landed on his ass.

“Two, Sir. Thank you.”

“I have a gift for you.” The next hit landed.

“Three. Three, Sir.” A gift?

Gar kept swatting him, telling him something new with each swat. His master loved him. His master was proud of him. There was chocolate mousse cake with candles coming. Eventually. By twenty, his ass was on fire and he was beginning to moan, cock and balls aching.

Now the compliments started. He was beautiful. He was smart. He was such a good sub. He made Gar so happy.

Finally Gar hit twenty eight. “One more, baby. This is the one for luck.”

He nodded, the sweat on his thighs making Gar’s leathers slick.

“You’re allowed to come, baby.” The swat immediately followed the last word, Gar’s fingers slapping over his hole.

“Master!” He bucked up, humping down into those strong thighs. Gar knew that drove him crazy. Then Gar pushed a finger against his hole and his spunk sprayed out of him.

He panted, hands gripping Gar’s calf as his ass burned. Moaning softly, Gar rubbed his ass, intensifying the burn. Then his master helped him stand and put his silk robe around his shoulders. Their gathered friends clapped and whistled, a couple called out, “Happy birthday!”

He curled into Gar’s body, hiding his burning cheeks in Gar’s shoulder.

Gar’s arm went around him, and then his master picked him up cradling him against Gar’s solid chest. “Thank you for witnessing. There’s cake for everyone. Michael and I will join you once we’ve cleaned up.” With that Gar carried him toward the showers.

“Master.” He buried his face. “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” Gar asked, long legs eating up the space so they were quickly in the quiet back hall. Instead of going to the showers, though, Garth went into one of the private rooms. He’d obviously set this up in advance, too.

“More focused. I was very angry when I left work. Frustrated.” He’d learned, years ago, to offer Garth all his truths, especially when he didn’t want to.

“Bad days will do that. Can we put it in a box until tomorrow to deal with then? I really want tonight to be special for you.” Gar sat on the bed, having left the lights low. The room had no doubt been prepared for them, but he couldn’t make anything out. Besides, Garth demanded his attention stay right there, on his master’s face.

“Absolutely.” And he meant that, soul deep. He slipped out of Gar’s arms and knelt in front of Gar, forehead on his master’s knees as he breathed in the scent of leather.

Gar’s hand slid over his head, fingers stroking through his hair. “I love you, Michael. More every day.”

“Thank you.” They sat together for a long time, breathing together, at peace.

Finally, Garth tilted his head and took a long, slow kiss. “You want your gift, baby?”

“I love your presents, Master. You always surprise me.”

“This one is special.” Gar reached back on the bed and came up with a box wrapped in shiny silver paper with a metallic blue bow.

“Can I open it?” At Gar’s nod, he ripped the paper open. Inside was a black leather collar with a single, large ruby in the center. “Oh my god...” His mouth went dry.

Gar was still, hands on his own thighs. “You’re mine. I want the world to know.”

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He kissed Gar’s hand, the ring that matched his own there, ruby embedded in the gold band.

“It matches,” Gar murmured.

He knew. He’d seen the ruby.

Gar took the collar from him. “Can I put it on you?”

“Please.” He lifted his head, his heart beat speeding. “Please, Master.”

Gar smiled solemnly and slowly put the collar around his neck, fingers brushing his skin as Gar locked it. Michael swallowed and the collar moved, sliding on his throat. Oh, god.

“Fuck. You look amazing.”

“Master.” He swallowed again, his fingers sliding over the leather. Just the touch made his cock jerk.

“My boy. And now everyone who sees you knows.”

He nodded, a warmth filling him, a pride. He met Gar’s eyes and saw a matching pride in his master’s eyes.

“Master.” He wanted. Needed. “Let me please you?”

Groaning, Gar spread his legs, offering himself over.

“Thank you.” He leaned in, carefully unlacing Gar’s leathers.

“Love your mouth, baby.”

He knew. And he loved Gar’s cock, the way it filled him.

He got the leathers undone and Gar’s prick pushed right out, eager for him. Michael moaned and surged up, taking Garth’s cock in deep.

“Fuck!” Gar’s hands both landed on his head, fingers working through his hair.

He went all the way to the root, sucking hard, focusing on nothing more than Gar’s low cries, the swell of that fat prick. His master’s sounds filled him as surely as that prick did.

Michael swallowed hard, working the tip, making Gar feel it. With every swallow, he could feel the collar around his neck. Gar’s collar. His cock filled, heavy and hard between his thighs.

He could feel Gar’s cock getting harder, too, as his master got close. He reached up, fingers rolling Gar’s balls, pushing the slightest bit.

“Love!” Gar jerked and spunk poured down his throat.

He swallowed hard, drinking Gar down, making sure to not lose a drop. Another groan sounded, Gar’s hands moving through his hair again, gentle and yet firm at the same time. He held the man’s softening cock in his lips, cleaning it with his tongue.

“So much devotion. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He nuzzled Gar’s prick before carefully tucking his lover away. “Thank you for my birthday, Master.”

“It was entirely my pleasure, Michael.” Gar drew him up onto the bed and they shifted and moved until he was curled up against Gar’s body.

He rested, the constant rush of worry in his mind quiet now, easy. Gar made life so much better.

“Shade was hoping we’d do a show on the main stage tonight, but I told him I needed to talk to you first. I don’t want you to feel like you have to, especially not on your birthday.”

“When I came in, I would have said there was no way, but...” Now he was in his own skin. As always, he had Garth to thank for that. “I can.”

“I’ll let him know. Let’s have a light meal and outline what we’re going to do.”

It would be an hour of working together, being together and cementing the space they were in now. He couldn’t really think of anything better.

He touched the collar about his neck, swallowed again just to enjoy the sensation of it on his skin.

“Sounds perfect, Master.”