Without a Net (22 page)

Read Without a Net Online

Authors: Lyn Gala

Tags: #BDSM; LGBT; Suspense

BOOK: Without a Net
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“I could—”

“You’ve seen me naked, so I don’t care about that,” Ollie said. “I’m more worried about what will happen when Greyson shows up. I don’t like the idea of him seeing me in my full glory.”

“I can use a dark plastic chastity belt and cage. It will hide more than a G-string.”

Until the relief washed through him, Ollie hadn’t realized how much full nudity bothered him. “Yes, please. I don’t want him ogling me.”

“If he tries, I’ll take his eyes out,” Travis said fiercely. “Before you cut me off, I was going to offer to strip if it will make things feel more equal for you.”

For a second, Ollie’s brain was hijacked by the thought of Travis naked. “Um, no. That’s…” He coughed. “That’s okay.”

Travis didn’t say anything, but he did look amused. “I thought I’d offer. Do you want to use the bench?” He stepped to the side.

Ollie swallowed. “Yeah,” he agreed. He tossed his shirt toward the wall and unbuttoned his jeans as he crossed the room. That required him to walk within inches of Travis, and the hair on his arms stood up. Determined to control himself, Ollie pushed his pants and underwear off together and quickly knelt in place, his cock safely hidden.

“Is there anything you don’t want to use?” Travis asked.

“Nope.” Ollie closed his eyes and resisted the urge to watch Travis choose his instruments.

“I want to explore your body and your reactions. Please don’t complain that I’m not rough enough, because we will get to the part that hurts,” Travis said, and Ollie got the feeling that Travis had endured more than one sub who made that complaint. He thought of Buck and imagined Buck taunting a Dom in order to get a harder spanking. Some subs clearly liked that. Ollie preferred to avoid pain. He’d endure it for the job, and he liked to submit, but real pain was not ever his endgame.

He sucked in a quick breath when Travis ran a warm and calloused hand over his bare ass. Travis stopped and waited, and Ollie slowly got his reactions back under control. Having a Dom resting a hand on the swell of his ass should not be this sensual, but his cock was getting hard. Once Ollie forced his muscles to relax, Travis began to knead Ollie’s ass, squeezing his cheeks and pinching. Ollie twitched with every touch, but he began to feel the submissive calm rise.

“You’re going to mark prettily,” Travis said.

Ollie blushed in pleasure.

Travis landed a sharp smack that jolted Ollie out of that quiet space. “Fuck!” he shouted.

“Not today,” Travis said.

“Great, sadistic humor,” Ollie complained, but he couldn’t stop his heart from pounding painfully fast. Worse, his cock was now rock hard.

“Every partner I’ve ever had complains about my humor and my habit of breaking the rules. I’m too old to improve either.” Travis brought his hand down with another sharp slap that drove the air out of Ollie, followed by a series of gentler ones that beat out a staccato rhythm.

Heat rolled up Ollie’s spine and soaked into his body. Every time he tried to catch his breath, Travis struck a little harder or a little faster. Ollie could only gasp, each breath a blessing he could hold for a second before he hissed as another strike stole his air.

In minutes, Travis reduced Ollie to clinging to the padding on the spanking bench and wiggling. “Shit, shit, shit,” Ollie chanted as the tingling heat and lust built.

Travis stopped, and Ollie’s breath was loud in the suddenly silent room. Even now, Ollie couldn’t get control, so his breathing was ragged and uneven.

“I’m going to use a nine-tail for some widespread marking,” Travis said. He had a clinical tone that ironically sent a new burst of lust through Ollie. At this point, he was in serious danger of coming on the spanking-bench cushion. But this wasn’t supposed to be sexual. And Ollie enjoyed not coming. Orgasm denial had always been one of his biggest kinks.

While Travis ran his hands over Ollie’s bruised and sensitive ass, echoes of that touch reverberated through his body, and his cock ached deliciously. By the time Travis walked away, the sweat had gathered along Ollie’s spine and was starting to trickle over his skin, cooling him.

He thought Travis would give him some sort of warning, but all he heard was a low whistle, and then the slap of leather against flesh. The bright pain followed a second later. Ollie cursed, and then the tears started. He didn’t often cry during a scene, but he had too much emotion shoved under his skin. He couldn’t stop himself. Travis brought the whip down twice more, and Ollie couldn’t even bring himself to curse anymore.

He sobbed and moaned with every blow. His cock was a dull and constant ache, and his whole body felt tender in ways he’d never experienced. He writhed against the leather padding as the whip stung him over and over. At one point he stopped breathing, and then Travis was there, his palms cupping Ollie’s cheeks.

“Breathe for me. That’s it. In…and out.” Travis modeled the action, and Ollie followed his pattern. Cool tears wandered down Ollie’s face, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except Travis’s touch against his hungry skin. Travis smoothed Ollie’s hair away from his face and smiled.

It was like having the sun come from behind a cloud. Ollie cried silently, the tears slipping over his cheeks.

“A few more marks with a single-tail whip, and you’ll pass fine. Okay?” Travis asked.

Ollie nodded.

Travis leaned in and kissed Ollie’s forehead. “I don’t think you’d disagree with anything right now. Damn, you drop into your head space fast.” When Travis stood, Ollie saw the huge bulge in Travis’s pants.

Ollie caught Travis’s wrist. “Sex would be good.”

Travis frowned. “You’re in an altered state. I’m not sure you can consent right now.”

Ollie pushed himself up away from the padded chest board. “I know what I’m saying. I’d like to have sex.”

“I’m sure you feel—”

“No. No, don’t tell me how I feel. I thought you were attractive when I met you, and the night you came down to talk to me after my first day undercover in the Happy Whip, I was attracted to the fact that you had your own opinions about the situation, but you didn’t feel a need to bully me about agreeing. I liked your nasty sense of humor and that you understood the stress of the job. And you had a great ass. You have a great ass. I thought all that before I knew you were amazingly good in bed.”

“Detective Robertson—”

Ollie cut him off again. “Don’t call me that when you’re taking a whip to my ass. I know what I’m saying. I want to have sex, and I want you to stop me from coming.” Ollie hadn’t planned to say any of that. He was sure his face was turning as red as his butt. He liked orgasm control, but he generally hid the depth of his kink. Too many Doms took that as an invitation to ignore Ollie’s pleasure altogether.

Travis smiled, molasses-slow. “I suppose I can chalk this up to more of my rampant rule breaking.” He ran his thumb over Ollie’s lower lip. With a sigh, Ollie sank back down onto the spanking bench and waited. There was a peace in feeling the unsatisfied ache in his balls and knowing he couldn’t control the pace. He’d never expected that.

He was hot and sweaty, but when the new whip caught him across his ass, it was like coming out of a hot tub and dropping into a cold pool of water. Every nerve came alive. Ollie reared back and screamed, and then Travis was there, pushing him back down and whispering in his ear. Ollie was too far gone to register the individual words, but he let the padded board hold his weight.

Travis backed away, delivering several more blows, each a splash of cold onto Ollie’s overheated body. He’d never felt anything like it. He shivered, and Travis pressed up close behind him. The familiar sound of a ripping condom wrapper made Ollie tremble with need. Travis took him hard. Normally Ollie would have come during the first minutes, but Travis stopped every time Ollie was about to slip over the edge into an orgasm. Instead he was caught dancing on that tightrope between painful need and utter completion. It was a roller coaster whose sudden drop never ended. It was walking along a cliff, forever on the edge of falling and never managing to tumble over.

Ollie arched his back and strained against Travis’s hold as Travis sped up. Ollie knew Travis was about to come. Knew it. He wanted to beg for his own orgasm, to demand that Travis wrap a hand around Ollie’s cock and bring him off. But he also ached to ride this endless wave of
almost
forever.

Travis came with a low groan. He gave a few more thrusts before resting his weight on Ollie’s back. He was not a small man, and Ollie was pinned under him. Aching, needing, hot and trembling and feeling perfect.

He was so screwed. Literally. When this mission was over, Ollie would never find anyone half as good as Travis. And after this, Ollie couldn’t imagine letting anyone else take control of him.

Chapter Nineteen

Ollie floated through Travis’s aftercare. Normally by this point, Ollie had come and he was less interested in affection than sleep. Sometimes he confessed his kink for denial, and he’d still be hard after his Dom finished, but then the Doms used that as an excuse to limit the aftercare.

Travis was the first one in a long time who hit the sweet spot between. He cleaned Ollie up and used touch to tease. He slid a finger along the crease between Ollie’s ass cheeks. He scraped a fingernail over the whip marks and brushed a knuckle across the head of Ollie’s cock. But he also had a dozen tender gestures—a caress along the side of Ollie’s neck, a chaste kiss on his shoulder, a guiding hand on the small of his back.

“We should keep in character,” Ollie said. His voice sounded distant and wrong. He was still floating on endorphins.

“Meaning?” Travis asked. He helped Ollie into his jeans, but Ollie was thinking he shouldn’t be wearing them. Milan had kept him naked.

“I need to be used to restraints and stuff.” Ollie frowned as he nearly fell backward and had to grab for Travis’s shoulder to keep his balance. His cock was dark and bobbed comically.

“And stuff?” Travis pulled the jeans up, and Ollie yelped and lurched forward when the denim rubbed against his raw ass.

“Fuck! Oh, shit. I’m not wearing these.” All the cobwebs vanished from his brain, and reality crashed back into him.

“Yeah, sweats might work better,” Travis said. “But you’re not going naked. I don’t know what sort of weirdness has gotten into Milan’s head, but I do not want to put temptation into his path. So you will wear some sort of pants.”

“He’s castrated. I don’t think he’ll be overwhelmed with an urge to fuck me.”

“He’s not dead. It might take him a while to get into the act, but trust me, Milan can finish the deed. I’m not putting you into a bad spot with him.” Travis had a fierce expression that made it pretty clear he wouldn’t compromise.

“Okay, as long as we can find soft pants, that’s fine, but I still think we need to work on me being in character.” Ollie stepped out of the jeans he’d dropped to the floor and headed to the mirror. His back was a riot of color. Crosshatching covered him from the backs of his knees up to his ass and lower back. He had deep-red bruising on his butt, and six perfectly spaced lines of red marked where the single-tail whip had hit.

Ollie reached around, expecting to find blood. Instead he found that the whip had raised long lines of fire with blood right under the surface, but the skin hadn’t broken at all. He suspected it would hurt less if it did bleed. The pressure of the swelling flesh made his backside burn.

“Milan will get off on the sight of those,” Travis said quietly.

“I’m not surprised.” A second later, Ollie realized that sounded arrogant. “I mean, this is a professional whipping job. The lines look like you measured them to get the distances right.”

Travis leaned against the drawers. “If you think Milan is rough on a sub, you should see how much he loves to torture a Dom. He’s one of the best, and I know he saved me from fucking up my life and the lives of other people, but he came down on me hard when I made a mistake.”

“He doesn’t look old enough to have taught you.”

“Milan? He doesn’t show his age. That’s the power of a huge fortune and several good plastic surgeons.” Travis ran his fingers through his graying hair. “The rest of us have to look our age. You wait here, and I’ll go grab a pair of my sweats, but if he comes in…” Travis grimaced.

“I am a cop. I do know how to tell him to keep his distance.”

“I’m a fed, and I can’t get him to keep his distance, so I don’t know that you’ll have much luck, but I’ll hurry,” Travis said. He opened the door fast as though expecting to find someone on the other side, but the hall was empty. He turned back toward Ollie. “Do you want to practice with restraints and the chastity belt?”

Ollie shivered as he thought of being locked into a chastity device. He should jerk off while Travis was gone, but he knew he wouldn’t. “I think we need to play this smart. Greyson will spot any irregularities. Milan made this undercover possible only because he did kidnap me. We can’t toss this opportunity away.” If Greyson managed to throw Huda under the bus while making himself look like a hero, screw the law—Ollie would shoot him. All of this was worth it only if they took down all these dirty cops. Having Travis stick around for some play afterward would be a nice bonus.

Travis gave a nod and then left, closing the door behind him. That left Ollie alone in a room full of adult toys he’d never seen. Most of these were far too expensive for a cop to buy. The furniture was so large he wasn’t sure it would even fit through his apartment door.

Ollie ran a finger across the stitching on the leather pads of the spanking bench. It was beautiful. Ollie had been on spanking benches before, but usually in the control clubs. They were plastic and metal, designed for hygiene and speed of cleaning. Those pieces lacked the beauty of this wood and leather furniture. The bench had thick leather straps that Travis hadn’t used, and Ollie wrapped his fingers around them and pulled. The restraints were heavy and didn’t have the quick release Ollie was used to. No control club would allow a Dom to use this in public.

A month ago, Ollie would have shaken his head at any sub who showed a preference for this sort of actual restraint. Now he wasn’t so sure. His cock was hard and aching, and the thought that Travis planned to lock Ollie into a belt had him struggling against a need to grab his penis with both hands and jerk off. It wasn’t a sane reaction.

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