Meadows of Heaven (16/23)
Chapter 16
Maggie dropped her head into her hands, leaning over in her seat. Everything just caught up with her at once, after being up far too late dealing with the fucking Confed.
When she'd taken this posting, she'd expected weird shit. They'd be exploring a region of space that hadn't been visited by humanity in over three hundred years. No one knew if there would be any survivors from the original colonists. She'd expected danger, anything from running into aliens or hostile planets or strange new diseases they had no cure for.
Maggie hadn't expected having the fucking Confed show up. She was supposed to have left the war behind, back in familiar regions of space. Having them show up like this? It was like they'd desecrated the whole reclamation project. They'd twisted something that should have been about exploration and knowledge into just another power play.
"What are you doing still awake?" Chikezie's voice broke into her thoughts.
Maggie looked up, her blurry vision barely making out the lieutenant's form in the front of the shuttle. "Working on logs?" she tried.
"Not on less than four hours of sleep," Chikezie tsked, sounding a lot like a librarian Maggie once knew back home. She smiled at the thought.
"It's the Vivran." She held out her trembling hands. "I can't sleep until it's worn off."
Chikezie dropped into the chair next to her and pulled out her med kit. "You should have said something. I have the counter injection."
"If I wasn't so fucking tired I might have remembered that." Maggie let her hands drop. "It was too close," she said. "Them being here."
Chikezie paused, looking up from her kit. "You've seen combat, Corporal?"
"Who hasn't?" Maggie said. "It's just . . .it's been a while since I worried about reaching for my sidearm."
Like that time they were boarded, the ducts of the Cardinal compromised by a fucking Confed infiltrator. She'd been in the engine room, frantically tearing out wires and rerouting power lines when they'd been surprised. Cunningham had knocked her to the ground, saving her life because all she had in her hand was the spanner for the circuit boards. Maggie had grabbed Cunningham's sidearm after he went down and took out the Confed bastard before he could get her too.
"Gyllenhaal." Chikezie snapped her fingers. "Maggie!"
Only then did Maggie realized she sat hunched over, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.
"I'm going to give you the counter," Chikezie said, touching Maggie's arm gently. "Then I want you to go straight to your bunk and get twelve hours of shut-eye. Got it Corporal?"
"Yes, sir."
***
Jeff hadn't known what to expect when they walked into the specially prepared dungeon for the scene. When he'd agreed, only because Jensen had really, he'd been expecting something like their mutual play session, in a private playroom in Claudia's suite. He hadn't known there were entire rooms in the palace reserved just for this purpose, rooms that made his little playroom seem tiny and immature.
This dungeon had dark stone floors that matched the walls, so you couldn't tell how far it went on for, or which way was up. Tall iron-stands in the corners held lit candles, the only source of light in the entire room, giving it a dim dreary feel. Jeff felt Jensen move closer to him, so that their bodies touched all along their sides. He guessed it was getting to him too.
Hooks dangled from the ceilings, hovering over a collection of stocks, cages and benches. Dark wooden boxes were placed in strategic locations, and Jeff knew those crates contained any kind of implement he could imagine and then some. He could only smell the melting wax, unscented with any oil or perfume, and the rest of the place smelled sterile and metallic, almost like blood.
He'd ordered Jensen into one of his leather harnesses, with a kilt over it for modesty. Now that they'd reached the room, he nodded and Jensen stripped off the kilt, revealing the straps that went all the way down, around his cock and thighs. Jeff liked how the dark leather looked on his pale skin, the buckles restraining all the strength beneath those taut muscles. That was for Jeff to touch, and only he could permit any release.
Jensen nodded to Jeff, once, before dropping to his knees, locked his hands behind his neck, head lowered as proper for a sub. Jeff felt the arousal curl in his gut and he welcomed it, knew he'd need it to carry him through this evening's events. What hit him most was that Jensen knelt for Jeff, that he willingly chose to let his body be used however Jeff saw fit. The power in that was undeniable, but the responsibility immense.
The doors to the dungeon were thrown open, clanging loudly against the stone, no shimmering alien magic for this stage. A pair of guards dragged Misha to the center of the room, although Jeff only guessed it was Misha, a black hood covered his face completely. They all but threw him to the floor, and he barely caught himself in time. One of the guards pulled off the hood and Misha blinked, his hair disheveled, his face pale.
For a moment Jeff felt a pang of sympathy, this wouldn't be fun for the sub, and he wasn't entirely sure Misha deserved it. Then again, Jeff eyed Jensen, perhaps he needed it in the same way Jensen had. Jeff didn't pretend to understand it, but he wouldn't judge either of them.
After a deep breath to get his thoughts in order, Jeff channeled his inner drill sergeant again, and stalked across the room. He grabbed Misha by his locks of hair and pulled his face back, forcing their eyes to meet. "You're dismissed," he told the two guards, who nodded and left the room.
Jeff regarded Misha for a long moment, nude except for the red collar tight around his neck. "Pretty little slut," he snapped, letting Misha's head fall back. He wouldn't give Misha the privilege of a name during this session. "Stand up, show off."
Misha pushed himself to his feet, trembling slightly. He tried to remain still as Jeff circled him, but he lacked Jensen's easy skill and grace. Jeff shook his head and clucked his tongue as he finished his inspection. "Disappointing," he said and Misha flinched, hard. "Do you see Jensen moving?" Jeff asked, gesturing to where Jensen still knelt, completely still, a perfect statue.
"No, sir," Misha said hoarsely.
Jeff slapped him across the face. "Did I give you permission to speak?"
Misha shook his head vigorously. Jeff noted he didn't even touch the bruise blooming on his cheek, and nodded in approval. "Jensen," he ordered. "Put the binds on this red band."
As Misha flinched yet again, Jeff walked away from him, turning his back on the sub like he was of no importance. Meanwhile, Jensen slid gracefully to his feet and over to the wooden crate where he had placed the items earlier. Jeff continued to watch out of the corner of his eye as Jensen approached Misha.
First, he placed the nipple clamps - a pair that bit especially hard, Jeff had caught one on his finger earlier and didn't envy Misha at all as Jensen clipped one onto each pink nipple. The muscles in Misha's throat worked, but he didn't make a sound, didn't even gasp or cry out. Then Jensen went for the cock cage, a metal monstrosity that circled Misha's balls, and surrounded his dick, making it impossible for him to get hard. A necessity, to remind Misha that this wasn't for his pleasure, though Jeff doubted that even Misha would find anything pleasurable in what was to come.
As Jensen walked back to his side, Jeff hooked a finger through one of the straps on the harness and pulled him over. Then he took Jensen in a full-fledged kiss, forcing him to lean back as Jeff devoured his mouth, sucking on his lower lip till Jensen moaned from deep in his chest. "Who do you belong to?" Jeff murmured.
"You," Jensen hissed back.
"Take your place." Jeff didn't look back to make sure he obeyed. Jensen could be trusted to do as ordered. He strode over to where Misha still stood, his body all but vibrating with tension. "On your knees," Jeff barked out.
Misha went down with a thunk, and Jeff gave a mental wince on his behalf. He tangled his fingers in Misha's unruly hair and pulled his head back. "Do you know why you're here, sub?"
Misha knew better than to speak, so he only waited for Jeff to finish. "You're here because you can't be trusted." When Misha's eyes closed for a moment, Jeff pulled his head forward and then back again. "You don't get to hide from this," Jeff warned. "You want to be treated like a tavern boy?"
"No," Misha protested.
"You have a funny way of showing it," Jeff snarled. He released Misha's hair with disgust, all but throwing him away. Then he undid the lacings on his pants, pulling out his cock, stiff from watching Jensen earlier, and Jeff found he had to keep that picture in his mind as he stroked his dick to full hardness.
Out of the corner of his eye Jeff saw something shift in the shadows. Claudia. She was like a cloud of smoke in the periphery, Misha hadn't noticed her watching yet, and that was part of the point, for him to think he was alone here, alone to take his punishment without a master to care for him. This had to be done, Jeff reminded himself, but it wasn't going to be easy on either of them. He needs this, Jeff thought, remembering Jensen thanking him after having his ass paddled red.
Jeff almost wished he had a paddle handy. Instead, he slapped his cock across Misha's face, smearing a bit of pre-come over those cheeks. When Misha chased his dick, mouth open to suck it down, Jeff grabbed Misha's hair with both hands and forced his head still. "This isn't about what you want," Jeff reminded him.
Misha whimpered in the back of his throat, but didn't speak. He held still as Jeff took his cock in one hand and trailed it over his lips, slicking them shiny with pre-come. Jeff continued to torture Misha for a moment, before pulling his cock away. "Don't move, keep your eyes open."
"Come here, Jensen."
For some reason, Jensen decided to crawl across the floor, his body undulating in sensual motion, muscles straining against the leather of his harness. If Jeff weren't rock hard already, his motion alone would have done it. "Suck me," he ordered, but his words were much gentler than anything he'd said to Misha.
Misha watched with wide eyes as Jensen slowly slid down Jeff's cock, surrounding its girth with those plump lips. Jensen knew his trade, knew how to keep it slow, how to put on a show, keeping his arms behind his back so nothing interfered with the view. He looked up at Jeff under long eyelashes, his face the perfect model of submission. Jeff gave into the impulse to reach down and stroke Jensen's hair, his gentle touch a contradiction to how he had manhandled Misha before.
"Get it nice and wet," Jeff told him. And it was Misha who groaned in response.
Jensen obeyed, working Jeff's cock until it was slick and shiny with his saliva. Then, he pulled off with a pop, licking his lips to chase the taste of Jeff there. Jeff suppressed a groan of his own - he was in control here, and no one, not even Jensen should appear to take that from him. "Hands and knees," Jeff told Jensen, "face him."
As Jensen got in position, Misha kept his eyes on him, the dark blue nearly obscured by the blown out iris. Jeff knew under ordinary circumstances the sub would be hard as a rock by now, possibly might have been allowed to come a time or two. But now Jeff was in charge, and he wasn't given to indulging Misha.
He stood behind Jensen and spread his cheeks apart, making it obvious as he tested Jensen's hole with two fingers. Slick, hot and tight, as always. Jeff lined up his cock and shoved inside, Jensen arching up and gasping at the action. He continued to moan and writhe as Jeff moved, as if unable to help himself.
"Who do you belong to?" Jeff asked Jensen with a slap against his ass.
"You, master," Jensen choked out.
Every time he called Jeff that - master - Jeff couldn't help the tightening in his groin, the way the word stirred his arousal to new heights. Perhaps Jensen did it so rarely for that very purpose. "Who takes care of you?" Jeff asked next, one hand reaching around to cup Jensen's cock, so hot and hard beneath his fingers.
"You do," Jensen answered, shivering at the touch.
"Don't come yet," Jeff ordered. He rolled his hips, knowing when he hit Jensen's sweet spot by the way the sub whimpered in pleasure. Jeff gripped Jensen's hips, leaving bruises in the shape of fingerprints. Jensen only shoved back, his ass in the air, just begging for a good hard fucking. And Jeff gave it to him, slamming forward with all he had.
When Jensen tightened around him - on purpose, the sly little thing - Jeff couldn't help it, he choked out a moan and came. He pulled out, still dripping from his come mixed with the oil already inside Jensen. Before he walked over to Misha, he ran his hands down Jensen's still trembling back. "Easy, boy, I'll get you there." But he had a job to do first.
"Clean me off," Jeff ordered Misha, giving him the humiliating task without even the pleasure of having sucked Jeff's hard cock, or letting him get hard himself.
Claudia, at this point, had moved into the light, and he knew just when Misha saw her. Those blue eyes got wide, and a red flush rose up on his cheeks, his rhythm faltering for just a moment, before he went back to eagerly lapping at Jeff's cock. Ah, so Misha wanted to show how good of a boy he was.
Jeff pulled away. "You think it makes a difference?" he snapped. "You can't be good just when she's watching."
Misha whimpered and Jeff turned his back, tucking himself away before going to the wood crate where Jensen had stored all the toys they'd need. Jeff picked up the long black dildo - ribbed instead of smooth, perfect for prostate stimulation. He wondered how much time these people spent on developing things like this, how much of their tech went into sex toys.
"Now, Jensen," Jeff told him, giving Jensen the honor of a name in this session. "He's always a good boy, right slut?" He slapped one round cheek, and Jensen only moaned in response. Jeff pushed the dildo up against Jensen's entrance, teasing him slightly with the thing, which was longer and thicker than Jeff himself - hell, it was enough to give anyone a complex. He eased it inside, each inch eliciting a louder moan. When Jeff twisted it, so that the ridged edge bumped against Jensen's prostate, Jensen all but squealed.
"Please," Jensen gasped out.
"Do you want to come, boy?" Jeff asked.
"If my," Jensen had to stop a moment, his voice breaking. "If my master wishes."
"Your master wishes you to come all over the tramp over there," Jeff said. He buried the dildo halfway inside Jensen's body and pulled Jensen up, so he knelt facing Misha. Jeff curled his fingers around Jensen's cock, stroking with slow, careful motions. "Come on, boy."
Jensen groaned, his eyes shut tightly as strips of his come landed on Misha's torso and caged dick. Misha remained still throughout, not even blinking. Jeff wanted to rub that blank expression right off of his face. He pulled out the dildo from between Jensen's cheeks, still holding Jensen with his other arm, as Jensen gasped and twitched, still coming down from his orgasm.
Jeff held the dildo in front of Jensen. "Fuck him with this until he begs for mercy."
Jensen took the dildo, his grip sure. To Misha, Jeff ordered, "On your back, hold yourself open."
Misha obeyed quickly, probably relieved to finally being acknowledged as something other than a prop. He rolled to his back, and took hold of his legs just under the knee, pulling them back and spreading himself for Jensen. This way, Misha's cock hung heavy and useless in its cage, a visible reminder as Jensen slid the thick dildo inside that Misha would not be getting any pleasure any time soon.
Of course, Jensen hadn't added any lube to Misha's hole, all the slick he had was what was left on the dildo. Misha writhed as Jensen pushed his way inside, past the tense muscle with very little lubrication. Jeff hoped they could end this soon, watching silently as Misha threw his head back, his body tight with tension. Come on, Misha, he thought, don't try to be a martyr.
And then, "Please," Misha whispered, voice barely audible. Jeff waited. "Please, mistress!" Misha cried out to Claudia, who stood clearly in his sight.
Jensen stopped, and pulled the dildo out, letting it drop on the floor between them. He backed out of the way as Claudia strode across the room, over to where Misha lay, his legs still open and spread. She placed one boot-clad foot on his torso, keeping him down. "Have you learned? Or do you still wish to be owned by no one?"
"Mistress, forgive me," Misha begged.
Claudia's gaze flickered over to Jeff's only briefly. "Leave us."
Jeff nodded and gestured to Jensen, who only paused long enough to get his kilt before following Jeff out of the dungeon. Outside the door, Jeff leaned against the wall, eyes closed as he digested everything.
"You all right?" Jensen asked.
Jeff shrugged. "I will be." He decided that punishment was one of his least favorite things about 328. Couldn't two people just have an argument, some angry sex, and then follow that up with some makeup sex like everywhere else? "I don't understand," he finally said. "Why you need to be punished."
Jensen gave him a half-smile. "If we knew why, I don't think we'd need it half as much." He put his hand on Jeff's chest, stroking with his fingers. "It reminds me someone cares enough to do it."
After all this time, Jeff still didn't think he was anywhere close enough to understanding Jensen. Well, all he had to do was keep giving Jensen what he needed, and Jeff figured he was damn good at that at least.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Epilogue