Negotiations 32 - Customer Service - a deleted scene
Hi. (Refresh 32) One of the things that happens routinely when I write is the creation of a ton of dead branches on the tree of a chapter. That happens a lot with this series because there's no over-arching resolution that I'm fixated on. So, I was rereading tonight trying to find where I started 33 and I came across this branch which I really like except I am reworking this part of the plot. Also, I get annoyed with myself when I repeat plot patterns which is a whole other internal drama for another time. So... originally, on that Friday when Brian drives to work and misses his exit, this is what happens later in the afternoon and is how Justin surprises him with his present. It picks up after the call that Justin gets that morning from Brian when Brian asks him to jerk off for him. So Brian hasn't come home... (and the night before was the evening with Josh)...
JUSTIN'S POV
The second call I get from Brian that Friday is around four fifteen p.m. when I’m standing in our kitchen debating about what I want to do for dinner. I can tell by the tone of the first word he says that he’s not happy. I dismiss the pleasantries he’s trying to engage in, and push him to tell me what’s wrong.
“I’m afraid you’re going to get pissed when I tell you because it means I won’t be home for dinner tonight,” he confesses.
“Try me.”
“Tonight is the night Release is going to live stream their first slave initiation thing, and the live stream is not working, and they have almost three thousand subscribers lined up to watch it. I have to go over there and stay on top of Comtech and make sure it gets fixed.”
“Oh, shit. Is Dave losing it?”
“Yes, and he’s a very calm guy, so you know it’s bad when he’s swearing at me. This whole monetization process has been a mess.”
“Okay. Go do what you need to do, and just so you know, when you get home, I have a surprise for you.”
He cheers up, “Oooh, what is it?”
“Nice try. See you later.”
“I can’t wait...just so you know,” Brian offers.
“Same here.”
…..
After the call, I just stand in our spacious kitchen turning in a slow circle as I try to decide what I want to do. I could call Harper and invite them out to dinner. I could go upstairs and paint some more. I could watch the Versace show that, let’s face it, Brian is never going to watch with me. I tap my fingers on the counter...check the clock...and decide on the third option, just not here.
In twenty minutes, I’m perched alone in a booth at a local steakhouse streaming Netflix on my phone, my airpods tucked in my ears. I stay awhile even after I’m done until the Friday crowd is starting to fill up the place, and I need to give up my table. Back in my car, I’m once again aimless and tapping my fingers, only this time on the steering wheel. It’s after six. I text Brian to get a progress report. All I get back is a rage emoji.
I pull onto the freeway and decide to head his direction. I might as well. Maybe I can calm him down a little.
************
Because Release is located underneath the leather store on Liberty Avenue, events often happen when the store itself is closed. There’s always a slave sitting inside the front door letting people in. Tonight, it’s Fifty-four, a slave who is middle-aged, balding, but very nice and polite. He recognizes me, “Hey, you here for Brian?”
“Yes, he’s downstairs?”
He nods, “Shit is hitting the fan down there. I volunteered to just stay up here.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I weave my way through the darkened store and open the door to the wooden catwalk and stairs that lead down to Release. Someone I can’t see hears my footsteps and yells, “We’re closed right now! We open at seven.” I keep moving forward, descending the rickety stairs and knocking on the locked door. A voice booms again, “I said, ‘We’re closed!.” I sigh and get out my phone to text Brian that I’m here. Can he please open the door?
Seconds pass and then I hear his footsteps; I’d know them anywhere. He swings open the door, “Hey! What are you doing here?”
“I was bored so I thought I’d just keep you company. I can go get you dinner, too, if you haven’t eaten.”
Brian’s body shifts back inside the room as he calls out over his shoulder, “It’s just Justin. He’s here for me.”
I hear Josh’s voice, “He might be here for me.”
Brian laughs, “You wish,” as he comes closer to me, letting the door close behind him so we’re both in the makeshift hallway. “Seriously, are you okay?” he asks me as he pulls me into a hug.
“I’m fine. You sent me a rage emoji, so I thought I’d come help you. I just miss you, I guess.” Brian kisses me very purposely, and then puts his thumb on my chin, “The kid from Comtech, the account manager who’s here, is fucking twenty-five years old max. I cannot decide if he knows what he’s doing.”
“Is he still alive?” I ask as I am genuinely concerned for his welfare at this point.
“Ha, ha. Barely.”
“Have you eaten?”
“We just ordered pizza. Well, I did because this is my fault.”
“Is it pizza you want to eat?” I ask because Brian is very picky about pizza unless he’s very very drunk.
“Yeah. You can come in. You can have some, too.”
“I took myself out to dinner,” I say as Brian’s taking my hand and pulling me inside. “Where’d you go?” he asks.
“Hetero-ville Steakhouse.”
Brian laughs and then leans down and whispers, “It is nice to have you here. I don’t think I’ve smiled in five hours.” Together, we walk into Dave’s office where the Comtech kid, wearing a bright red button down shirt and black pants, is trying to fix the problem. “He’s been on the phone almost non-stop with other techs,” Brian says in an intentionally loud voice, “Because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.”
The guy turns around and looks at Brian. He’s hispanic with tightly cropped black hair. “Mr. Kinney, I promise you that I do know what I’m doing. I will get this fixed.”
Brian looks at his watch, “You have twenty minutes and they start losing money, and I really lose my temper.” I jab Brian with my elbow and admonish him, “Stop that. You’re being an ass.”
Dave stands up from his desk and comes over to us in the doorway, “Hi, Justin.” He rubs my arm in an almost fatherly way, “We’re glad to see you. Maybe you could entertain Brian so this guy can actually concentrate on fixing the problem?”
Brian rolls his eyes at Dave’s depiction of his behavior, but when I agree to Dave’s idea, Brian doesn’t object as I lead him back into the hallway. We sit on a short bench that’s affixed to the wall and I try to change the subject, “What was this place? Why are there hooks all the way down this wall above this bench?” I can only imagine sex toys and slaves dangling from them.
Brian explains, “This was a dance studio once. The store above sold dance gear, and tons of little girls took ballet down here in little pink tutus, I guess.” His comment makes me think of Amelia and how Brian arranged a dance class for her many years ago.
“Okay, now I get it. Makes sense. That’s why there are these weird changing rooms and that explains room for the dungeon.”
“It was repurposed. I guess the dance store purposely went out of business a couple of decades ago because it was accidentally right in the middle of Liberty Avenue.”
“That explains that room way down there with all the mirrors,” I point.
Brian nods in agreement, “That’s where Matt is.”
“Who’s Matt?” I ask.
“The slave that’s getting initiated tonight. Wanna meet him?”
“Why? Have you met him?” I ask.
Brian shakes his head, “I saw him come in and said hello, but that’s all. Josh has been with him most of the time.”
“What’s he doing in there?”
Brian offers, “I suppose he’s getting into the right headspace to be the star of a live streaming gang bang.”
Whoa. “And he’s new here? What’s his number?”
Brian shrugs, “Hell if I know. Josh?” he calls, “What’s the new guy’s number?”
Josh calls back, “Eighty three.”
There are voices coming from Dave’s office, a chorus of relief and exuberance that the problem has been fixed. “Be right back,” Brian says as he gets up to go finish up with everybody. I grab his wrist and pull him back to me. “What?” he asks.
“Make sure to apologize to that guy," I order him.
“Yeah, right. For asking him to do his job? I don’t think so.” Again, he steps away from me and, again, I grab his arm and pull him back. Now, he’s irritated, “Justin, what the fuck?”
“Do you think he woke up this morning thinking he’d be troubleshooting internet issues at a kinky gay sex dungeon while being yelled at?”
“Whatever.”
“You better or you can forget the surprise I have for you.”
He attempts to roll his eyes at me, and I give him a look that makes him change his mind. “Okay, okay. I will apologize. Let me go.” I let go and he walks into Dave’s office.
The door to the main dungeon is open, and if I lean forward, I can see guys milling around in there. Some guys are setting up and some just standing together and talking. Someone sits next to me, and I turn to find myself face to face with Josh. It startles me and he apologizes, “Sorry. It’s nice to see you.”
“Thanks, same.”
“Why’d you come? You two want to help us out with this initiation?” he asks me.
I shake my head, “Uh, no. I’m not going to be livestreamed during a gang bang.”
“Well, you can stand in the very back of the room off camera if you want.” He points to the open dungeon door and explains, “We’ve put red, yellow, and green stripes of paint on the floor. The outermost ring is red which means you’re there to watch but not interact with anyone. Then the next ring is yellow when you feel a little more comfortable and would be okay with conversation, and then green is the closest. If you’re in that ring, then you can participate.”
“Who’s idea was that?” I ask.
“Brian and Dave’s. They had a brainstorm one day. It’s worked really well.”
I change the subject because my curiosity is getting the best of me, “Why is that slave down in that room by himself?”
“He wanted some alone time to get in his headspace, but--” Josh continues to explain, “We want him to feel a little nervous and awkward. That’s what the initiation will relieve eventually if it’s done right.” He’s smiling eagerly at me as he adds, “And I will make sure it is done exactly right.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
As I sit with Josh, my eyes are scanning the space for anything else I might want clarification about when Josh leans in and asks me, “Like you, last night. Weren’t you nervous and then satisfied at the end?”
“Yep,” I answer without making eye contact with him. I’m keeping one eye on Dave’s office because that’s where Brian is.
“I was, too. I was very satisfied at the end,” he adds.
While looking straight ahead (because he’s way too hot to look at directly), I admonish him,“You should not be talking to me about this around other people.” I hear something jingle and I look down and see a black collar with small spikes on it and a leash in Josh’s hand. “Shouldn’t you be down there with Eight Three helping him get ready? I mean, it’s almost time.”
Josh exhales a dramatic sigh, “Fine, I’ll go. Forgive my indiscretion.”
“Brian would slam you up against a wall if he’d heard you talking to me like that in a public place. Just an FYI.”
Why am I being so dramatic. Jeesh.
“Point taken. I’ll go.” He squeezes my shoulder as he gets up and walks down the hall with the collar and leash dangling from his hand. As he goes into the room, Brian emerges from Dave’s office. He’s smiling and shaking the tech’s hand. The tech’s also smiling which makes me instantly relaxed. I hear an announcement over their intercom that the evening is about to start, “Everyone please come to the dungeon. Door closes in three minutes.”
Brian sits down next to me again reassuring me that he apologized, but I’m only half listening because the changing rooms that we’re sitting next to have all opened and a clown car amount of kinky guys is coming out of each one. I didn’t even know they were occupied. Josh has Eighty Three on his leash at the other end of the hall, and once everyone’s inside the room, Dave signals to him that he can come down. Josh and his slave walk right past us. The slave's completely nude and the words ‘COURTESY BOTTOM’ are written on his torso in black marker. Brian examines this guy as he goes past, the same way he used to examine potential tricks in the backroom, like they’re on a special menu or something. Eighty Three is too tall, too skinny for me. His elbows and knees look like they are carving space through the air as he walks. His ass is unremarkable, though I’m sure it will serve its purpose tonight. As they pass us and walk into the dungeon, Dave asks us, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to come in and watch?”
I shake my head for both of us, “We’re good. Hope it goes well.”
“It will. Thanks, Brian. I’ll let you know how we did subscriber-wise in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” Brian says as Dave is the last one to enter the room. He tapes a sign on the door that says NO ADMITTANCE. BROADCAST IN PROGRESS. and vanishes from our view. That leaves Brian and I alone in the lobby. He looks at me and smiles. He has an expression of now what? on his face.
I point down the hall, “I want to see that room where the slave was.”
“Okay.”
I slide my hand in his as we walk. The door isn’t closed all the way, so Brian pushes it open a little and peers inside, “No one here.” We step inside to the large room with wall to wall mirrors with a ballet bar halfway up and I’m blown away by the decor disaster. There are old metal desks from the sixties, a few chairs that match, four old beige metal filing cabinets and an old beat up khaki sofa at one end. There’s a gray rug on the floor that looks like an industrial mat of some kind.
I pose a question to Brian, “Um, what is with the CIA black site decor? This is horrific.”
Brian agrees with my description, “Yes, it’s rather soul-crushing.”
I walk over to a filing cabinet and wiggle a draw open, “Do they even use these?”
Brian alerts me to the one in the corner, “That one’s locked, I think.”
I walk over to it and sure enough, it’s locked. I begin to wonder what’s in there. My file? A record of my experience here? Am I filed under T for Taylor or by my number? Or is this from World War II? Brian’s standing in front of one of the mirrors examining his pores. He breaks my train of thought, “I want to know what my surprise is.”
“It’s a surprise. I’m not going to tell you.”
“Can I ask for clues?”
I think about it, “Sure, but only three yes or no questions.”
“Okay,” Brian begins, “Is it bigger than a bread box?”
“Huh, what?”
“Okay, scratch that. Did you buy it today?”
“Um, yes.”
“Okay. Was it more or less than one hundred dollars?”
“Less.”
Brian begins to pace to consider his last question, rubbing his chin as if he’s some old wise man solving society’s problems. “Okay, last question. Do you have it with you now?”
I pause before I answer, “Yes.”
“Give it to me,” he demands.
“Nope.”
“Why not? You have it with you, and I’ve had a shitty day. C’mon,” he protests.
“It’s not something I can give you, and that’s a fourth question.”
Again, he paces for dramatic effect, “Okay, okay… you bought it today for less than a hundred dollars...and you have it with you now...but you can’t give it to me…--”
“You’re going to have to find it,” I tell him as I jump up and sit on one of the desks, my legs swinging back and forth. Brian approaches, pushing my knees apart and purposely overwhelming with his size. “I’m convinced whatever it is has to be up your butt,” he tells me as he’s nibbling on my earlobe. He slips his hand inside my jeans and tries to feel his way around my ass.
“These jeans are way too tight for that trick,” I remind him.
“Don’t make me wait until we get home,” he whines at me, “I want it.”
I push on his chest, putting some space between us, “We can go to the loft; you can have it there.”
“We have two cars here don’t we?” Brian asks.
“Yep, but it’s a three minute drive. You’ll survive.”
Brian grins and begins single-mindedly focused on getting us out of Release. Driving to the loft takes no time at all, but it still feels like forever. Brian and I are hand in hand as we ride the elevator; it’s not fun to take the stairs when your cock feels like it’s carbo-loading to make weight. I make it as far as the kitchen island before the door is shut, locked, and Brian’s grabbing me as if I’m trying to get away from him which I absolutely am not. “You can settle down,” I warn him, “I’m not playing hard to get here.”
“The only good parts about today were listening to you come for me and then you showing up because you missed me.”
“Don’t be dramatic; it wasn’t that bad,” I tease him.
“Well, three things. I want my surprise.”
“You still have to find it.”
He rips my jeans open as he kisses me, palms my ass for real and slides a finger between my cheeks. “Huh, there’s nothing there,” he admits.
“Don’t stop; I like that,” I encourage him, running my hands inside his now unbuttoned dress shirt.
“I don’t like this scavenger hunt,” he complains into my neck, “There’s no winning it.”
“Oh, you’re such a big baby sometimes. C’mere.” I remove his hand from my underwear and lead him to our bedroom. He’s naked so fast that I think we went through a time warp or something. I sit back on the bed and motion him toward me. He moans as he kisses me, his hands working overtime to get me undressed. When I’m left in just my briefs, I push him back a little and make him watch me take them off. He puts his hand on my inner thigh, and his eyes balloon wider than I’ve ever seen them. He raises his eyebrow at me and pushes me back on the bed, our bodies parallel as his thumb strokes my chin bone. “You did this for me,” he says, and I nod as he slithers down my body, hip lips brushing my newly-waxed skin around my cock. His lips plant appreciative affection all over me as he touches me. He looks up, his eyes completely dilated, “Does it hurt?”
“A little; the skin is tender.” He examines me with an animalistic curiosity, pushes my legs apart and asks me a question with such strong sincerity that it breaks me a little, “Why did you do this for me?”
“Because I knew you would love it and it would make you look at me exactly the way you are right now.” I reach down and intertwine my fingers with his, “And because of last night, the trust you had in me. You let me walk that tightrope and show off for you.”
Brian smiles and then looks down at his cock, “You’re making me go a little crazy right now.”
“Good. That was the idea.”
“Was it a guy or a girl?”
“A woman. She called me ‘Sweetie’ the whole time. She said I shouldn’t have sex for two days.”
“Rules were made to be broken,” Brian offers.
“I know. Let’s break the shit out of it.”
Brian takes that as a challenge and growls at me as he plants himself between my legs and shows his adoration for every inch of my skin that I sacrificed for him. He narrates the entire episode under his breath: ”This is fucking amazing…. So bare for me…. It’s like fucking Christmas…” Then he looks up from his task, “I don’t know if you’re a good boy or a bad boy for doing this.”
“Probably both,” I offer.
“You did not have my permission, for one.”
“Nope.”
“And I’m sure you spent my money.”
“Of course I did.” Brian starts to lick my cock, and I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, moaning because feeling his body anchored between my legs is worth more to me than I can even explain. He pushes my thighs so they’re propped on his shoulders and a few seconds later I feel the warm whirl of his tongue between my cheeks, and I bemoan, “There’s never anything to hold onto in this bed.”
“Pull your legs back for me. Problem solved.”
I do what he says, and he starts to devour every inch of me, every inch of skin wet from his mouth. His face slip-sliding everywhere; I make a request, “Don’t shave tomorrow, okay? I want to feel all the scruff.”
“That presumes that we both survive the night.”
“Oh god,” I lament because this attention he’s administering feels so good. I drop my legs and just grab the back of his head and press it against me as hard as I can. I kind of want to smother him like this. He rises up eventually and licks his way back up my body until we’re face to face. He looks so happy, so utterly satisfied. “Taste yourself,” he whispers before he kisses me, “That’s what an insatiable little whore tastes like.”
“I’m delicious.”
“You are, and you are never ever satisfied. Nothing I can ever do to you will be enough.”
I defend myself, “But eventually I will fall asleep.”
Brian smiles, the pad of his thumb makes a hard pass over my eyebrow. “If we were at home right now, I’d find that crop that Josh used on you last night, and I would administer it over every inch of skin that you let someone else groom without my permission.”
“I asked for a woman...on purpose,” I lie. (There were no guys working there.) “And I even got the ugliest one of them.”
Brian laughs and puts his hand on my hip, urging me to roll on my side toward him. “She probably had the most experience which was lucky for you.”
“Probably. She was very efficient.”
“I think I should probably put you across my lap--” Brian offers.
“Nooo,” I interrupt to resist like I should, like I want to, my hand searching for his cock. I skim my finger over the head, and he’s oozing all over the place. “You’re so wet; I want you inside me.”
“She said no sex for two days, but she didn’t say anything about no spanking, did she?” Brian teases me.
I begin to leave tiny kisses as an offering on his collar bone, “Well, I mean, I think that was probably implied.”
He strokes my hair as he talks to me, “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“I had such a bad day that I was planning on asking you to take the reins tonight, to fuck all my worries away.”
Normally, an admission like this from Brian would send all of the burners on my libido’s stove to high heat and make me lose my focus in the moment, but that doesn’t happen this time. I’ve got all those burners cooking independently now, and it feels pretty amazing. “That can still happen. I would love to fuck you tonight.”
Brian gives me an appreciative smile but one with mischief behind it nonetheless. “Roll on your stomach then; let’s get this over with.” I do as he says, and he uses his leg to wedge mine apart and his upper body to keep me down as he spanks me. His hand focuses on the roundest part of my ass, centralizing the pain. Anytime I say that it hurts, he growls a little and drags his hot fingers down my crack. “Please, I beg and he pushes them inside me, letting them fuck me like a piston until I warn him that, “I’m gonna come, please--” and he stops, pulls them out and spanks me again. The longer this goes on, the faster I almost cum, the more he spanks me. When the interval becomes unbearably short for me, he stops and tells me to come sit on his lap. I get up, wobbly on my knees, and he steadies me as I straddle him and take his cock. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face there, his words right beside my ear, “Grind that sore bottom against me, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t stop until you come. I want to feel you strangle my cock.”
“Yes, sir.”
He rubs his hands up and down my back as I do this nestled against him. This level of intimacy with him is fucking euphoric. I start to come, and he holds me in a vice grip so all my body can do is jerk against him. When I’m done, I feel like my muscles have left me, like I’m melting away from him. Somehow he gets enough leverage to tip me on my back, fold me in half, and pound me mercilessly like he’s getting out all the day’s frustration in these few minutes. “You feel me coming inside you?” he asks me, his face reddening above me.
“Yes.”
Our bodies seem to blend together seamlessly during that twenty seconds like an amorphous mass of pleasure, however, amorphous mass is not a phrase I would ever let Brian hear me say about his body.
He would probably behead me.
/end of deleted scene
to be continued for the rest...
JUSTIN'S POV
The second call I get from Brian that Friday is around four fifteen p.m. when I’m standing in our kitchen debating about what I want to do for dinner. I can tell by the tone of the first word he says that he’s not happy. I dismiss the pleasantries he’s trying to engage in, and push him to tell me what’s wrong.
“I’m afraid you’re going to get pissed when I tell you because it means I won’t be home for dinner tonight,” he confesses.
“Try me.”
“Tonight is the night Release is going to live stream their first slave initiation thing, and the live stream is not working, and they have almost three thousand subscribers lined up to watch it. I have to go over there and stay on top of Comtech and make sure it gets fixed.”
“Oh, shit. Is Dave losing it?”
“Yes, and he’s a very calm guy, so you know it’s bad when he’s swearing at me. This whole monetization process has been a mess.”
“Okay. Go do what you need to do, and just so you know, when you get home, I have a surprise for you.”
He cheers up, “Oooh, what is it?”
“Nice try. See you later.”
“I can’t wait...just so you know,” Brian offers.
“Same here.”
…..
After the call, I just stand in our spacious kitchen turning in a slow circle as I try to decide what I want to do. I could call Harper and invite them out to dinner. I could go upstairs and paint some more. I could watch the Versace show that, let’s face it, Brian is never going to watch with me. I tap my fingers on the counter...check the clock...and decide on the third option, just not here.
In twenty minutes, I’m perched alone in a booth at a local steakhouse streaming Netflix on my phone, my airpods tucked in my ears. I stay awhile even after I’m done until the Friday crowd is starting to fill up the place, and I need to give up my table. Back in my car, I’m once again aimless and tapping my fingers, only this time on the steering wheel. It’s after six. I text Brian to get a progress report. All I get back is a rage emoji.
I pull onto the freeway and decide to head his direction. I might as well. Maybe I can calm him down a little.
************
Because Release is located underneath the leather store on Liberty Avenue, events often happen when the store itself is closed. There’s always a slave sitting inside the front door letting people in. Tonight, it’s Fifty-four, a slave who is middle-aged, balding, but very nice and polite. He recognizes me, “Hey, you here for Brian?”
“Yes, he’s downstairs?”
He nods, “Shit is hitting the fan down there. I volunteered to just stay up here.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I weave my way through the darkened store and open the door to the wooden catwalk and stairs that lead down to Release. Someone I can’t see hears my footsteps and yells, “We’re closed right now! We open at seven.” I keep moving forward, descending the rickety stairs and knocking on the locked door. A voice booms again, “I said, ‘We’re closed!.” I sigh and get out my phone to text Brian that I’m here. Can he please open the door?
Seconds pass and then I hear his footsteps; I’d know them anywhere. He swings open the door, “Hey! What are you doing here?”
“I was bored so I thought I’d just keep you company. I can go get you dinner, too, if you haven’t eaten.”
Brian’s body shifts back inside the room as he calls out over his shoulder, “It’s just Justin. He’s here for me.”
I hear Josh’s voice, “He might be here for me.”
Brian laughs, “You wish,” as he comes closer to me, letting the door close behind him so we’re both in the makeshift hallway. “Seriously, are you okay?” he asks me as he pulls me into a hug.
“I’m fine. You sent me a rage emoji, so I thought I’d come help you. I just miss you, I guess.” Brian kisses me very purposely, and then puts his thumb on my chin, “The kid from Comtech, the account manager who’s here, is fucking twenty-five years old max. I cannot decide if he knows what he’s doing.”
“Is he still alive?” I ask as I am genuinely concerned for his welfare at this point.
“Ha, ha. Barely.”
“Have you eaten?”
“We just ordered pizza. Well, I did because this is my fault.”
“Is it pizza you want to eat?” I ask because Brian is very picky about pizza unless he’s very very drunk.
“Yeah. You can come in. You can have some, too.”
“I took myself out to dinner,” I say as Brian’s taking my hand and pulling me inside. “Where’d you go?” he asks.
“Hetero-ville Steakhouse.”
Brian laughs and then leans down and whispers, “It is nice to have you here. I don’t think I’ve smiled in five hours.” Together, we walk into Dave’s office where the Comtech kid, wearing a bright red button down shirt and black pants, is trying to fix the problem. “He’s been on the phone almost non-stop with other techs,” Brian says in an intentionally loud voice, “Because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.”
The guy turns around and looks at Brian. He’s hispanic with tightly cropped black hair. “Mr. Kinney, I promise you that I do know what I’m doing. I will get this fixed.”
Brian looks at his watch, “You have twenty minutes and they start losing money, and I really lose my temper.” I jab Brian with my elbow and admonish him, “Stop that. You’re being an ass.”
Dave stands up from his desk and comes over to us in the doorway, “Hi, Justin.” He rubs my arm in an almost fatherly way, “We’re glad to see you. Maybe you could entertain Brian so this guy can actually concentrate on fixing the problem?”
Brian rolls his eyes at Dave’s depiction of his behavior, but when I agree to Dave’s idea, Brian doesn’t object as I lead him back into the hallway. We sit on a short bench that’s affixed to the wall and I try to change the subject, “What was this place? Why are there hooks all the way down this wall above this bench?” I can only imagine sex toys and slaves dangling from them.
Brian explains, “This was a dance studio once. The store above sold dance gear, and tons of little girls took ballet down here in little pink tutus, I guess.” His comment makes me think of Amelia and how Brian arranged a dance class for her many years ago.
“Okay, now I get it. Makes sense. That’s why there are these weird changing rooms and that explains room for the dungeon.”
“It was repurposed. I guess the dance store purposely went out of business a couple of decades ago because it was accidentally right in the middle of Liberty Avenue.”
“That explains that room way down there with all the mirrors,” I point.
Brian nods in agreement, “That’s where Matt is.”
“Who’s Matt?” I ask.
“The slave that’s getting initiated tonight. Wanna meet him?”
“Why? Have you met him?” I ask.
Brian shakes his head, “I saw him come in and said hello, but that’s all. Josh has been with him most of the time.”
“What’s he doing in there?”
Brian offers, “I suppose he’s getting into the right headspace to be the star of a live streaming gang bang.”
Whoa. “And he’s new here? What’s his number?”
Brian shrugs, “Hell if I know. Josh?” he calls, “What’s the new guy’s number?”
Josh calls back, “Eighty three.”
There are voices coming from Dave’s office, a chorus of relief and exuberance that the problem has been fixed. “Be right back,” Brian says as he gets up to go finish up with everybody. I grab his wrist and pull him back to me. “What?” he asks.
“Make sure to apologize to that guy," I order him.
“Yeah, right. For asking him to do his job? I don’t think so.” Again, he steps away from me and, again, I grab his arm and pull him back. Now, he’s irritated, “Justin, what the fuck?”
“Do you think he woke up this morning thinking he’d be troubleshooting internet issues at a kinky gay sex dungeon while being yelled at?”
“Whatever.”
“You better or you can forget the surprise I have for you.”
He attempts to roll his eyes at me, and I give him a look that makes him change his mind. “Okay, okay. I will apologize. Let me go.” I let go and he walks into Dave’s office.
The door to the main dungeon is open, and if I lean forward, I can see guys milling around in there. Some guys are setting up and some just standing together and talking. Someone sits next to me, and I turn to find myself face to face with Josh. It startles me and he apologizes, “Sorry. It’s nice to see you.”
“Thanks, same.”
“Why’d you come? You two want to help us out with this initiation?” he asks me.
I shake my head, “Uh, no. I’m not going to be livestreamed during a gang bang.”
“Well, you can stand in the very back of the room off camera if you want.” He points to the open dungeon door and explains, “We’ve put red, yellow, and green stripes of paint on the floor. The outermost ring is red which means you’re there to watch but not interact with anyone. Then the next ring is yellow when you feel a little more comfortable and would be okay with conversation, and then green is the closest. If you’re in that ring, then you can participate.”
“Who’s idea was that?” I ask.
“Brian and Dave’s. They had a brainstorm one day. It’s worked really well.”
I change the subject because my curiosity is getting the best of me, “Why is that slave down in that room by himself?”
“He wanted some alone time to get in his headspace, but--” Josh continues to explain, “We want him to feel a little nervous and awkward. That’s what the initiation will relieve eventually if it’s done right.” He’s smiling eagerly at me as he adds, “And I will make sure it is done exactly right.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
As I sit with Josh, my eyes are scanning the space for anything else I might want clarification about when Josh leans in and asks me, “Like you, last night. Weren’t you nervous and then satisfied at the end?”
“Yep,” I answer without making eye contact with him. I’m keeping one eye on Dave’s office because that’s where Brian is.
“I was, too. I was very satisfied at the end,” he adds.
While looking straight ahead (because he’s way too hot to look at directly), I admonish him,“You should not be talking to me about this around other people.” I hear something jingle and I look down and see a black collar with small spikes on it and a leash in Josh’s hand. “Shouldn’t you be down there with Eight Three helping him get ready? I mean, it’s almost time.”
Josh exhales a dramatic sigh, “Fine, I’ll go. Forgive my indiscretion.”
“Brian would slam you up against a wall if he’d heard you talking to me like that in a public place. Just an FYI.”
Why am I being so dramatic. Jeesh.
“Point taken. I’ll go.” He squeezes my shoulder as he gets up and walks down the hall with the collar and leash dangling from his hand. As he goes into the room, Brian emerges from Dave’s office. He’s smiling and shaking the tech’s hand. The tech’s also smiling which makes me instantly relaxed. I hear an announcement over their intercom that the evening is about to start, “Everyone please come to the dungeon. Door closes in three minutes.”
Brian sits down next to me again reassuring me that he apologized, but I’m only half listening because the changing rooms that we’re sitting next to have all opened and a clown car amount of kinky guys is coming out of each one. I didn’t even know they were occupied. Josh has Eighty Three on his leash at the other end of the hall, and once everyone’s inside the room, Dave signals to him that he can come down. Josh and his slave walk right past us. The slave's completely nude and the words ‘COURTESY BOTTOM’ are written on his torso in black marker. Brian examines this guy as he goes past, the same way he used to examine potential tricks in the backroom, like they’re on a special menu or something. Eighty Three is too tall, too skinny for me. His elbows and knees look like they are carving space through the air as he walks. His ass is unremarkable, though I’m sure it will serve its purpose tonight. As they pass us and walk into the dungeon, Dave asks us, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to come in and watch?”
I shake my head for both of us, “We’re good. Hope it goes well.”
“It will. Thanks, Brian. I’ll let you know how we did subscriber-wise in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” Brian says as Dave is the last one to enter the room. He tapes a sign on the door that says NO ADMITTANCE. BROADCAST IN PROGRESS. and vanishes from our view. That leaves Brian and I alone in the lobby. He looks at me and smiles. He has an expression of now what? on his face.
I point down the hall, “I want to see that room where the slave was.”
“Okay.”
I slide my hand in his as we walk. The door isn’t closed all the way, so Brian pushes it open a little and peers inside, “No one here.” We step inside to the large room with wall to wall mirrors with a ballet bar halfway up and I’m blown away by the decor disaster. There are old metal desks from the sixties, a few chairs that match, four old beige metal filing cabinets and an old beat up khaki sofa at one end. There’s a gray rug on the floor that looks like an industrial mat of some kind.
I pose a question to Brian, “Um, what is with the CIA black site decor? This is horrific.”
Brian agrees with my description, “Yes, it’s rather soul-crushing.”
I walk over to a filing cabinet and wiggle a draw open, “Do they even use these?”
Brian alerts me to the one in the corner, “That one’s locked, I think.”
I walk over to it and sure enough, it’s locked. I begin to wonder what’s in there. My file? A record of my experience here? Am I filed under T for Taylor or by my number? Or is this from World War II? Brian’s standing in front of one of the mirrors examining his pores. He breaks my train of thought, “I want to know what my surprise is.”
“It’s a surprise. I’m not going to tell you.”
“Can I ask for clues?”
I think about it, “Sure, but only three yes or no questions.”
“Okay,” Brian begins, “Is it bigger than a bread box?”
“Huh, what?”
“Okay, scratch that. Did you buy it today?”
“Um, yes.”
“Okay. Was it more or less than one hundred dollars?”
“Less.”
Brian begins to pace to consider his last question, rubbing his chin as if he’s some old wise man solving society’s problems. “Okay, last question. Do you have it with you now?”
I pause before I answer, “Yes.”
“Give it to me,” he demands.
“Nope.”
“Why not? You have it with you, and I’ve had a shitty day. C’mon,” he protests.
“It’s not something I can give you, and that’s a fourth question.”
Again, he paces for dramatic effect, “Okay, okay… you bought it today for less than a hundred dollars...and you have it with you now...but you can’t give it to me…--”
“You’re going to have to find it,” I tell him as I jump up and sit on one of the desks, my legs swinging back and forth. Brian approaches, pushing my knees apart and purposely overwhelming with his size. “I’m convinced whatever it is has to be up your butt,” he tells me as he’s nibbling on my earlobe. He slips his hand inside my jeans and tries to feel his way around my ass.
“These jeans are way too tight for that trick,” I remind him.
“Don’t make me wait until we get home,” he whines at me, “I want it.”
I push on his chest, putting some space between us, “We can go to the loft; you can have it there.”
“We have two cars here don’t we?” Brian asks.
“Yep, but it’s a three minute drive. You’ll survive.”
Brian grins and begins single-mindedly focused on getting us out of Release. Driving to the loft takes no time at all, but it still feels like forever. Brian and I are hand in hand as we ride the elevator; it’s not fun to take the stairs when your cock feels like it’s carbo-loading to make weight. I make it as far as the kitchen island before the door is shut, locked, and Brian’s grabbing me as if I’m trying to get away from him which I absolutely am not. “You can settle down,” I warn him, “I’m not playing hard to get here.”
“The only good parts about today were listening to you come for me and then you showing up because you missed me.”
“Don’t be dramatic; it wasn’t that bad,” I tease him.
“Well, three things. I want my surprise.”
“You still have to find it.”
He rips my jeans open as he kisses me, palms my ass for real and slides a finger between my cheeks. “Huh, there’s nothing there,” he admits.
“Don’t stop; I like that,” I encourage him, running my hands inside his now unbuttoned dress shirt.
“I don’t like this scavenger hunt,” he complains into my neck, “There’s no winning it.”
“Oh, you’re such a big baby sometimes. C’mere.” I remove his hand from my underwear and lead him to our bedroom. He’s naked so fast that I think we went through a time warp or something. I sit back on the bed and motion him toward me. He moans as he kisses me, his hands working overtime to get me undressed. When I’m left in just my briefs, I push him back a little and make him watch me take them off. He puts his hand on my inner thigh, and his eyes balloon wider than I’ve ever seen them. He raises his eyebrow at me and pushes me back on the bed, our bodies parallel as his thumb strokes my chin bone. “You did this for me,” he says, and I nod as he slithers down my body, hip lips brushing my newly-waxed skin around my cock. His lips plant appreciative affection all over me as he touches me. He looks up, his eyes completely dilated, “Does it hurt?”
“A little; the skin is tender.” He examines me with an animalistic curiosity, pushes my legs apart and asks me a question with such strong sincerity that it breaks me a little, “Why did you do this for me?”
“Because I knew you would love it and it would make you look at me exactly the way you are right now.” I reach down and intertwine my fingers with his, “And because of last night, the trust you had in me. You let me walk that tightrope and show off for you.”
Brian smiles and then looks down at his cock, “You’re making me go a little crazy right now.”
“Good. That was the idea.”
“Was it a guy or a girl?”
“A woman. She called me ‘Sweetie’ the whole time. She said I shouldn’t have sex for two days.”
“Rules were made to be broken,” Brian offers.
“I know. Let’s break the shit out of it.”
Brian takes that as a challenge and growls at me as he plants himself between my legs and shows his adoration for every inch of my skin that I sacrificed for him. He narrates the entire episode under his breath: ”This is fucking amazing…. So bare for me…. It’s like fucking Christmas…” Then he looks up from his task, “I don’t know if you’re a good boy or a bad boy for doing this.”
“Probably both,” I offer.
“You did not have my permission, for one.”
“Nope.”
“And I’m sure you spent my money.”
“Of course I did.” Brian starts to lick my cock, and I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair, moaning because feeling his body anchored between my legs is worth more to me than I can even explain. He pushes my thighs so they’re propped on his shoulders and a few seconds later I feel the warm whirl of his tongue between my cheeks, and I bemoan, “There’s never anything to hold onto in this bed.”
“Pull your legs back for me. Problem solved.”
I do what he says, and he starts to devour every inch of me, every inch of skin wet from his mouth. His face slip-sliding everywhere; I make a request, “Don’t shave tomorrow, okay? I want to feel all the scruff.”
“That presumes that we both survive the night.”
“Oh god,” I lament because this attention he’s administering feels so good. I drop my legs and just grab the back of his head and press it against me as hard as I can. I kind of want to smother him like this. He rises up eventually and licks his way back up my body until we’re face to face. He looks so happy, so utterly satisfied. “Taste yourself,” he whispers before he kisses me, “That’s what an insatiable little whore tastes like.”
“I’m delicious.”
“You are, and you are never ever satisfied. Nothing I can ever do to you will be enough.”
I defend myself, “But eventually I will fall asleep.”
Brian smiles, the pad of his thumb makes a hard pass over my eyebrow. “If we were at home right now, I’d find that crop that Josh used on you last night, and I would administer it over every inch of skin that you let someone else groom without my permission.”
“I asked for a woman...on purpose,” I lie. (There were no guys working there.) “And I even got the ugliest one of them.”
Brian laughs and puts his hand on my hip, urging me to roll on my side toward him. “She probably had the most experience which was lucky for you.”
“Probably. She was very efficient.”
“I think I should probably put you across my lap--” Brian offers.
“Nooo,” I interrupt to resist like I should, like I want to, my hand searching for his cock. I skim my finger over the head, and he’s oozing all over the place. “You’re so wet; I want you inside me.”
“She said no sex for two days, but she didn’t say anything about no spanking, did she?” Brian teases me.
I begin to leave tiny kisses as an offering on his collar bone, “Well, I mean, I think that was probably implied.”
He strokes my hair as he talks to me, “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“I had such a bad day that I was planning on asking you to take the reins tonight, to fuck all my worries away.”
Normally, an admission like this from Brian would send all of the burners on my libido’s stove to high heat and make me lose my focus in the moment, but that doesn’t happen this time. I’ve got all those burners cooking independently now, and it feels pretty amazing. “That can still happen. I would love to fuck you tonight.”
Brian gives me an appreciative smile but one with mischief behind it nonetheless. “Roll on your stomach then; let’s get this over with.” I do as he says, and he uses his leg to wedge mine apart and his upper body to keep me down as he spanks me. His hand focuses on the roundest part of my ass, centralizing the pain. Anytime I say that it hurts, he growls a little and drags his hot fingers down my crack. “Please, I beg and he pushes them inside me, letting them fuck me like a piston until I warn him that, “I’m gonna come, please--” and he stops, pulls them out and spanks me again. The longer this goes on, the faster I almost cum, the more he spanks me. When the interval becomes unbearably short for me, he stops and tells me to come sit on his lap. I get up, wobbly on my knees, and he steadies me as I straddle him and take his cock. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face there, his words right beside my ear, “Grind that sore bottom against me, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t stop until you come. I want to feel you strangle my cock.”
“Yes, sir.”
He rubs his hands up and down my back as I do this nestled against him. This level of intimacy with him is fucking euphoric. I start to come, and he holds me in a vice grip so all my body can do is jerk against him. When I’m done, I feel like my muscles have left me, like I’m melting away from him. Somehow he gets enough leverage to tip me on my back, fold me in half, and pound me mercilessly like he’s getting out all the day’s frustration in these few minutes. “You feel me coming inside you?” he asks me, his face reddening above me.
“Yes.”
Our bodies seem to blend together seamlessly during that twenty seconds like an amorphous mass of pleasure, however, amorphous mass is not a phrase I would ever let Brian hear me say about his body.
He would probably behead me.
/end of deleted scene
to be continued for the rest...