Work Text:
Bound
By nancy
Jensen’s client was keeping him waiting, standing in front of the door to his Manhattan hotel penthouse suite. There were cameras in the hallway, and of course he’d been checked in, announced by phone and escorted to the keypad elevator in the lobby by a private concierge most discretely, but still he was kept waiting. The man who had paid for his services tonight was standing on the other side of the door, observing him through the peephole. Jensen knew this because he’d heard steps approaching the door at his knock, and seen the change in light behind the small glass spyhole.
Now he waited, a little more nervous, a little more excited than he normally would be, while ten seconds, then twenty, dragged slowly by and Jensen shifted his weight from one foot to the other despite his pro-sub brain’s command to hold still. Having worked in every aspect of the sex-trade, from strip club dancer to bathhouse boy to porn set fluffer to high class out-call only speciality prostitute, or companion if you read the glossy catalog literature, Jensen had developed what he often thought of as a secondary brain; his submissive conscious. Animal- alert, able to process the information from any or all of his available senses at lightning speed, complemented by a keen sense of intuition honed by attuning his thought processes to those of his client. It had served him well through many difficult situations, and saved his life on one occasion. Now he corrected his posture, and smiled blandly at the closed door in front of him while another ten seconds ticked off in his head.
Normally this kind of creepy behavior would be a red flag, but this wasn’t just any client, and while his Friday night appointments were often millionaires, the famous man who was watching him from the other side of the door was, as far as he knew, his first bonafide billionaire. So Jensen put his warning system on stand-by and sucked in his breath and held it to calm his nerves and after another agonizing ten seconds the deadbolt clicked and the door swung open.
“Mr. Padalecki?”
Jensen smiled his very best smile, telling himself it was stupid to make his greeting sound like a question when he was staring at one of the most recognizable men in America. Six foot five and notoriously athletic, the long haired bad-boy real estate mogul slash Hollywood producer slash adventurer slash playboy had practically reinvented the way Americans entertained themselves. Whether it was watching one of his tremendously popular reality shows or spending their money at one of his theme parks, Jared Padalecki’s name was everywhere. And now Jensen was standing at the threshold of his famous New York penthouse suite.
“You don’t disappoint. Even more attractive than your profile picture. Come in, Jensen.”
“Thank you.”
The door closed silently behind him and Jensen opened his mouth to deliver his opening speech but his client raised one hand, and with a characteristically alpha gesture he silenced Jensen and waited a moment to be sure he had his full attention before he spoke.
“Definitely don’t call me ‘Mr. Padalecki’, you’ll make me feel like a pedophile. And although you do have the face of an innocent angel we are actually only five years apart in age. Don’t call me Sir, either- I hate that. It’s boring and generic. Our given names are very similar, aren’t they? That’s inconvenient. Do people call you Jay? It doesn’t matter. You may call me Jared, for now. And we’ll find a new name for you.”
“You can call me anything you like.”
The fierceness of Jared’s frown turned his all-american, boyish good looks into something much, much darker. His hazel eyes flashed rage and Jensen bit his tongue, thoroughly intimidated.
“It wasn’t your turn to talk! Consequently, I believe I’ve already paid handsomely for the privilege to ‘call you anything I like’, as well as other...liberties. As for your name tonight, I think I like, Whore, how do you feel about that? And yes, now it’s your turn to talk.
“Thank you, S- Jared. I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Say it, please?”
Jensen schools his face to perfect calm with the experience of two years on the job and when he speaks his voice is silky-smooth and sweetly seductive, showing not the least hint of embarrassment or hesitation when he raises his eyes to meet his new client’s and says,
“Jared, my name is Whore. How may I serve you?”
“Hmm. Impressive. But better when you don’t ask questions. Try again.”
Jensen sighs softly, and repeats in the same sweetly submissive voice,
“Thank you, Jared. My name is Whore, and it’s an honor to serve You.”
“Lovely, perfect. Good boy. I’m sure we’ll take very good care of your honor tonight.”
“Jared before we begin-”
Jensen tries again to give his first-time -with-a-client speech but he's interrupted almost immediately.
“But we’ve already begun, pretty Jensen.”
Jared laughs derisively at the look of surprise that breaks through Jensen’s carefully schooled features, but the low, sarcastic chuckle has no humor behind it.
“Oh, you didn’t really think I was going to call you ‘Whore’ all night, did you?” His eyebrows disappear beneath messy bangs. “That would be gaudy. I was just making a rudimentary check of your level of comfort with your occupation. I know you think you need to give me a little speech to remind me of the rules of engagement, but I’ve read the contract very carefully, and you’ll find that I have an excellent memory. Your presence at my appointed time and place is sufficient evidence for me of your willingness to abide by the contracts stipulations, and I’m also quite sure that you’ve been carefully instructed concerning the specific requirements of your client. As for myself, my signature on the contract, as well as the rather ridiculous sum I have paid in advance for the pleasure of your company this evening, should assure you that I am well informed about the limitations of what my money can buy, as well as all of the safety protocols in place to protect us both.”
Jared nods and flashes a brilliant, devastating smile when Jensen opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself at the last second.
“Good boy, you’re right. It’s still not your turn to talk. What you may do is remove your shoes and socks and leave them over there, by the door.”
Jared’s rich, resonant voice, the fluctuating pattern of his speech and his overwhelming aura of dominance and sovereignty over his surroundings have captivated Jensen so thoroughly that it takes a moment for him to respond when Jared steps into his personal space. Two large hands grasp his shoulders firmly, turning him around to face the door. Jared lets go as soon as he starts to move, going to the bamboo mat to remove his shoes, tucking his socks inside them.
“You may remove the rest of your clothing as well, Jensen. I do much prefer you naked. You have no need for clothing here and I would like to make it perfectly clear that from the moment you come to me you are fully under my control.”
Jensen smiles and nods, feeling more comfortably centered into his professional mindset as he quickly disrobes, turning his body towards Jared so he has a full frontal view, but when he murmurs his agreement he stumbles and has to correct himself quickly.
“Yes Si- Yes, Jared."
"It's fucking with your head, saying my name. It's taking you out of your subspace.”
It's a statement, not a question, and Jensen isn't sure if he should agree, or apologize, either of which would admit a flaw in his performance already and put him at a disadvantage, but Jared continues, saving him from having to make the choice.
“You should know, Jensen, that fucking with your head is something I enjoy doing very much, and will indulge in as often as I'm given the opportunity, but.. I'm not a complete asshole. I do take into consideration the basic needs of my companion, even when I've paid for the luxury of ignoring them. I'll offer you a compromise. You may address me henceforth as Master Jared, will that be satisfactory for you?”
“Yes thank you Master Jared.”
Jensen’s gaze is lowered politely to Jared’s midsection, his feet planted comfortably apart, he stands naked, perfectly still with his hands at his sides. Not a single muscle twitches, his shoulders are relaxed but straight, and Jensen pictures his body posing in his mind, a long, inviting line of curved muscles and smooth skin. These days, Jensen feels more comfortable nude than he does with his clothes on, and he knows that he presents a very appealing picture. He hasn't been told what to do next yet, and he's not going to move an inch until directed. He's already figured out that what Jared craves most is complete control.
Jensen takes a second to analyze his inner reaction to Jared's direct, derisive, but intuitive communication style so far. It might raise a red flag, the way Jared has led their dialog so that Jensen’s first reaction is to be thankful, to feel that Jared has helped him or done him a favor. Looked at one way, could be dangerous psycho-Dom behavior, taken another, an indication of an experienced Top who is able to put their submissive exactly where he wants them.
“Of course you do pose very prettily, Jensen, but I would much prefer you look at me directly, so that I can see what's happening in those lovely green eyes of yours. I understand that some of what I ask of you will go against what is considered proper submissive behavior, or even your natural instincts as a professional. Regardless, you will follow my directions and keep your mind open to possibilities. Look at me, now, Jensen. Good boy. Now you may kneel.”
Jensen folds himself down to his knees with a dancer's grace, spreading his legs and resting his bottom on his crossed ankles, upturned palms on his thighs. His gaze falls automatically to the floor, head turning to the side out of ingrained habit, but before Jared can correct him he wrenches his eyes back up to Jared's, looking directly into the penetrating stare of his client.
“There you are, perfect. Thank you, Jensen, that's beautiful, and you look so deliciously vulnerable there. Tell me, pretty, professional Jenny… Are you helpless?"
It's a trick question, for sure. There are only two possible answers, yes, or no, and he has only a fifty percent chance of giving the right one. They both know Jensen is not helpless, not even close; there are rules, there are stipulations and safety protocols all designed to protect him. The important thing is, does Jared want him to say that he feels helpless, or does Jared want him to tell the truth? He only has a second to make the choice.
Responding to the undisguisable naked hunger in Jared’s eyes, Jensen answers in a soft, appealing voice,
“Yes, Master Jared, I'm helpless."
Jared's eyes narrow, his forehead creases, and he looks decidedly displeased when he shakes his head.
“Oh Jensen, you really are a good liar, aren't you? Very appealing, very convincing when you give me what we both know is total bullshit. Maybe over the next few hours I can teach you what helpless really feels like, maybe I can't, we'll find out. Now I will punish you, to impress upon you how very much I dislike being lied to, and I promise you, if you ever speak anything but the absolute truth to me again, I will make you very, very sorry. Is that understood?"
‘Yes Master Jared."
Jensen tries to think of something else to say, but can't decide what would be the right approach, and Jared actually seems pleased when he only answers the question he's been asked, without adding any gratitudes or apologies.
“Down on all fours, Jensen. Do you see the armoire on the far wall?”
"Yes, Master Jared”
"You will crawl to it. In the bottom drawer you will find a set of restraints and a collar. From the rack inside the door you may select a whip or a paddle, your choice. Bring everything over here and present them to me.”
While he speaks Jared crosses the large sitting room and takes a seat in a leather wingback chair in front of the fireplace, facing the Chinese cabinet.
Jensen hates to crawl, he simply hates it. It's the one act of physical servitude that he has never managed to accomplish with any of his trademark gracefulness and erotic appeal. There is just no way to make this look sexy without going way over the top into exaggerated, phoney sluttiness. Resistance flares up inside him and Jensen feels it burning in his gut when he exhales a deep breath, forcing himself to move forward on hands and knees. He doesn't arch his back or shake his hips, just crawls methodically, his eyes fixed on the fancy cabinet against the far wall. A sharp stab of annoyance runs through him when Jensen realizes Jared is sitting in the big chair with his back to him, not even bothering to watch him. Jensen has never had a Dom order him to crawl and then not watched him do it. Annoyance builds to resentment at the lack of attention and burns at Jensen’s pride. It feels more debasing, somehow, to do this entirely on his own, without the Dom watching, taking pleasure in his punishment. Of course Jared doesn’t know him, doesn’t know that this is by far a more unpleasant thing for him to do than taking the whipping will be, Jensen reasons with himself, but it does little to quell his irritation. It's a huge, long room and he has to crawl the full length of it to reach his destination. He has a long way to go and plenty of time to think while he gets there. At least the carpet is forgiving to his palms and knees; dark grey in color, it's ridiculously thick and plush, velvety soft under his bare legs and the backs of his feet.
While he crawls, Jensen thinks about the choice he will make when he gets there. He hasn't been told how many strikes he will receive for his punishment. It's already clear to Jensen that Jared is an experienced Dom, and therefore the number of his correction swats will likely depend on the instrument he chooses; less for a heavier implement, more for a lighter one. Jensen decides quickly to select the heaviest tool available, partly out of a sense of pride, and partly out of spite; he will keep any pleasure for Jared in administering the punishment as short as possible. Jensen is not only a professional submissive, he's also a masochist, and he can take a lot of pain. This aspect of his sexuality is not something he shares with the majority of his clients.
Jensen breathes a sigh of relief when he finally reaches the big black lacquer cabinet without any further criticism or instructions from Jared. The narrow drawer at the bottom slides smoothly under his hand. He finds only one set of restraints inside, wrist and ankle cuffs each clipped together with heavy carabiner spring hooks that look like they could easily hold his weight if used in suspension. The collar and cuffs are thick, dark green leather lined in suede. The stitching and slotted d-ring fasteners are also heavy duty, and Jensen thinks they are probably handmade to order, and nothing he would be able to get himself out of, a far cry from the cheap sex shop toys most of his clients use. Removing them from the drawer Jensen slips the collar through one of the wrist cuffs to make it easier to carry and hooks the two clips on the fingers of his left hand.
When he rises slightly on his knees to open the doors of the cabinet Jensen is momentarily overwhelmed by choice. The interior of the deep cabinet smells strongly of cedar and leather. Hanging three rows deep and neatly organized on dozens of shiny brass hooks is every tool of flagellation Jensen can name in a variety of materials. Jensen’s eyes widen at the array of choices before him, quickly cataloging gleaming wood, shiny patent leather and pebbled suede, dull rubber, powdery latex and bamboo, until his eyes land on the crystal clear surface of a rectangular paddle, long and narrow with small air holes drilled down the center. It’s an implement made specificity for punishment, not pleasure, and it will be brutal in Jared's big, strong hand. Jensen reaches up with a long stretch of his spine to slip its leather hanging loop off the hook, transferring the thin paddle to his teeth to grip carefully as he falls back down on all fours and turns slowly towards Jared, seated a few feet in front of him.
When Jensen slides his hands and knees across the carpet to reach the foot of his chair Jared acknowledges him with a nod and a slow, dangerous smile.
“I would have guessed you’d pick the quirt, just to see if I know how to throw it. I do, of course, but you’ve brought me something equally as humbling, haven’t you, Jensen? That’s lexan, you know, not lucite. The hardest polymer man can make, commonly used for riot shields and bullet proof glass windows. It’s going to do one helluva number on your ass, my pretty boy.”
Jensen holds the long, two inch wide clear paddle in his mouth and doesn’t try to show any response until he has drawn himself up to his knees and sat back on his heels at Jared’s feet. He offers up the restraints and collar in his left hand, his right hand placed precisely palm up on his thigh. Raising his eyes to meet Jared’s cool, speculative gaze is much harder than Jensen thinks it should be, he has to force himself to look up directly into Jared’s penetrating eyes when he lifts his chin up, offering Jared the tool he selected politely. The man makes him wait at least twenty seconds, but finally Jared’s hand comes forward to relieve Jensen’s aching jaws of their clamped grip, releasing the burden of the paddle to Jared’s palm. When he’s holding it loosely in his right hand, Jared asks softly,
“Did you think you needed this? Or are you trying to impress me? Answer, Jensen.”
“Maybe both, I think? Please Master Jared, if it pleases you, I’m ready to be corrected with this paddle, thank you Master Jared.”
Jensen’s thoughts are swimming in a totally unfamiliar state of chaos that brings him close to panic as he tries to formulate an acceptable answer quickly enough. Where is his work-brain, and how is he going to manage this difficult, devastating, powerful man if he can't play his role and be his work-self? The unaccustomed sense of general uncertainty and embarrassment bubbles over inside him and ruins his balance. He sways precariously on his knees, so that Jared is obliged to reach out his free hand and steady him with a firm grasp on his shoulder. Jensen feels himself redden into a deep blush, and mumbles “Sorry, sorry.” without thinking as he finds his balance under Jared’s iron grip.
“Easy, Jensen, it’s okay, but you must answer the questions I ask you. It tries my patience to repeat myself.”
“Yes Master Jared. I chose this one because it looked suitable for a punishment spanking, and because I thought it would make a great sound on my ass.”
Jensen allows himself a small, hopeful smile, trying to gauge emotion from Jared’s haughty, calm face and hoping that he’s close enough to the truth to satisfy Jared’s uncanny perception.
Both the fact that he undeniably does want to impress Jared and show off to him, and the way his brain is going all-in, engaging psychologically with this Dom for real, not as a client, should be big, big red flags. Hell, Jensen thinks, they should set off full scale emergency lights and sirens in his consciousness. Instead Jensen just takes a long, slow breath when Jared’s hand releases his shoulder and comes up to cup his chin, grasping both sides of his jaw with his long fingers and tilting his face up, up, all the way up and Jensen holds onto Jared’s eyes and breaths out slowly, letting every last ounce of air out of his lungs.
Jensen waits, his eyes sliding a little out of focus from the strain of the position and the lack of oxygen, until finally Jared’s thumb slides over his chin and strokes down his throat, and Jensen draws in air obediently, like this is the only way he has ever breathed.
“Lovely, such a very good boy.”
Jared croons, his voice low and soothing. It hardens when his hold on Jensen’s face tightens, fingers creeping up to spread out over his cheek, digging into the hinge of his jaw.
“What do I want from you when I ask a question?”
“The truth!”
Jensen gasps, eyes stinging with relief when the vise grip on his face relaxes instantly back to a gentle hold with his response.
“That’s right. That’s what you’re going to give me every single time you open your mouth. The truth. Not what you think I want to hear, not what you always say, not the proper, polite, platitudes of a professional. The truth, nothing more and nothing less. Agreed?”
“Yes Master Jared!”
Jensen hears his fevered, adamant reply, and wonders how that’s his voice, sounding like a newbie in the throes of their first experience.
Jared chuckles softly, and leans forward to press a soft, dry kiss to Jensen’s forehead.
“Very good.”
Jensen’s face is released and Jared leans back in his chair, the menacing paddle dangling from the leather loop on his wrist.
“Put the cuffs on yourself, Jensen.”
“Yes Master Jared”
Jensen' s voice is a soft, silky murmur again when he undulates easily, rising up a little on his knees to slide his left leg out in front of him. He bends at the waist, his upper body going down smoothly to touch the length of his leg, folded in half, his back a straight line as he reaches to wrap the first cuff around his ankle. Switching smoothly to the right leg when the first is fastened securely, he knows it looks good, knows Jared is watching him with his dark, intense stare, seeing every movement of muscle and sinew on his naked form.
When Jensen looks up, Jared's eyes are soft for a moment, his face relaxed and full of contented, proprietary pleasure at the performance.
“You do yoga."
Jared comments under his breath, and again it's not a question. He gathers himself and readjusts, sitting taller in the chair.
“Put my collar on yourself, Jensen."
Jensen obeys without even looking at it. He brings the thick leather band up to his throat and reaches back to fasten it, sliding the silver through a slat and clipping it in place while his eyes stay locked on Jared's.
“You are enjoying it, showing off for me. And you are breathtaking, but that's not what I really want. I want what's underneath, Jensen. I'm going to show you. Put the cuffs on your wrists, clip them together.
Jensen obeys, and each time his eyes flick down to fasten the restraints they go right back up to Jared's, suddenly unable to look anywhere else. Jensen feels his will dissolving, completely lost in that hard, piercing stare. His inner voice goes completely silent and fear rumbles in his belly, making butterflies that nibble and gnaw on his insides.
“Oh, look…” Jared murmurs with a small, satisfied smile. "I made you feel something.”
Either Jared can see right through his work mask, or it's not there at all. That Jared can look at him and read him so completely, is terrifying. Jensen stays locked under Jared's eyes and struggles to understand what's happening to him. His safeword beats like a drum in his head, Dallas/Dallas/Dallas/Dallas as Jared rises from the chair.
“On your feet, now Jensen."
Jared's tone is calm and assured, and it steadies him. Jensen curls his toes, rocks back, and rises smoothly from kneeling to standing without using his hands. He still has to lift his head up to meet Jared's eyes, and Jensen thinks he must be a good three or four inches taller than his own six foot one. It's not something he's used to, a Dom that can tower over him, but it's not unpleasant. Jensen's eyes flick down Jared's long arm to the paddle and he thinks about the reach he'll have with that wingspan, and how hard he'll hit him. As if he really can address Jensen' s thoughts directly, Jared's gaze sweeps down and back up his body before he speaks.
“It's quite a relief for me to have someone closer to my size to play with. The agency kept sending me these skinny little twinks and I had to be so careful not to break them. I don't have to worry about that with you, do I Jensen?”
Jensen can only shake his head and whisper, "No Master Jared"
“I'm really going to enjoy that. And for you, Jensen? Tell me, is it exciting to have a Top that's actually bigger and stronger than you are? Someone you don't have to roll your shoulders in and crouch down for when you're standing?"
"Yes Master Jared.”
Jensen breathes, and he feels more naked and exposed than he ever has before with a client.
"Yes what, Jensen?"
“Yes it's exciting, Master Jared, that you're bigger and stronger."
Jensen offers in total honesty, but it's not until the words have left his mouth that he realizes he's getting hard, and that doesn't happen with clients, not without physical stimulation and a concentrated effort on Jensen's part.
“Oh yes … I see. But you don't have to worry about that now, Jensen, we'll take care of that later. Right now you will take your punishment standing up, like the good strong boy you are. Come here.”
Jared steps around the chair and moves back to an area of open floor space, pulling Jensen with him by the magnetic power of his eyes alone.
“Hands behind your head."
When Jensen complies, Jared moves quickly behind him, his free hand reaching up to grasp the clip between Jensen's cuffs lifting his wrists a bit higher, so that Jensen's fingers are interlocked at the top of his head.
Jared doesn't let go of the binding between his restraints. Jensen can feel his grip in the pull of the cuffs and the barely there brush of Jared's knuckles on the hair buzzed short at the back of his head.
‘You will take six. Don't count, and if you can manage it, I much prefer silence.”
Jensen nods and rolls his shoulders, fixing his posture carefully. He plants his feet and when he's ready he drops his chin down and closes his eyes. He hears Jared's small sigh of pleasure, feels him step back, releasing his wrists.
The paddle makes no sound until it makes contact with his flesh, the loud crack shattering the silence. The pain comes fast, even before the paddle leaves his skin. Jensen's knees want to bend but he doesn't let them, the only reaction his body gives is the way his hips rock slightly forward and back with the impact, and the deep breath he exhales carefully as the pain spreads and the welt rises across his cheeks.
Jensen pictures what it looks like, bright red, lined purple at the edges, little darker dots from the holes across the center. Jared hit him hard, even harder than Jensen was expecting, and Jensen thinks they are riding the line of what is allowed in the contract. The rules leave a little room for ambiguity, stating only that there must be no broken skin, no blood drawn and “no bruising, welting or marking which will last on the skin for more than seventy-two hours from the time of occurrence.” Jensen is a fast healer, but how exactly he is supposed to determine how many days a bruise will last, while being beaten, has always amused him. Jensen knows that much of the language used in the client's contracts isn't enforceable, it’s there to encourage restraint and caution, and ultimately it's his own responsibility to protect himself when he's in these situations.
Protecting himself is the very last thing on Jensen's mind while he waits for the next one, hoping Jared won't pause too long between strikes to admire his work. Jensen doesn't really like waiting for it, he needs a solid, steady rhythm to get into it, to get under the pain and let it take him somewhere good in his head.
Jared puts his whole arm into the next one and Jensen rocks forward onto the balls of his feet with the impact, his knees dip for a moment and the breath whooshes out of his lungs. Close Jensen thinks, attuning his awareness to the surface of the pain, trying to determine for sure that he's not bleeding at the lines of the new mark where the edges of the paddle sank into his cheek. Close, very close but not quite over the line and probably it's okay but if he goes that hard again Jensen tells himself he will have to call yellow. For now though, right now these few precious seconds he can allow himself to float, bathe in the searing pool of pain, his ass cheeks on fire throbbing so hard it's like a second heartbeat he can feel right under his skin.
Jared’s voice crashes into his bubble, dragging him up so fast goosebumps prickle his arms and legs and the back of his neck. Like he really can read his mind, Jared barks,
“Give me a color, Jensen!”
Jensen calls out "Green!" Before he thinks, before he can hesitate or stop himself from demanding what he wants most right now. He wants more. He wants this intense, elusive sensation to go on, to take him away.
“Oh, you really are a little monster, aren't you?”
Jared growls quietly, and hits him again.
Jared’s right, of course, he is monstrous, on the inside. Jensen gives in, gives up to the impossible fact that Jared really can read his mind. Jared can read his thoughts and emotions, can see into him like he's a clear glass of water and Jensen feels himself spilling over into pure ecstasy and oblivion, riding waves of pain that ebb and flow with his heartbeat. The wetness of semen splattered across his belly and dripping down his hip only registers after the fifth strike and Jensen falls from the high, floating place in his head and almost freaks out completely, but Jared waits. Jared gives him time to take four long, shaky breaths before he gives him the last one, and it's only half as hard as the first five.
Silence, his heart pounding in his chest, the shock of what just happened receding slowly to be replaced by total mortification. Jensen has never experienced humiliation with a client before that wasn't contrived, a part of his performance. His eyes are shut tightly, his chin dropped down to his neck and Jensen wishes a hole could open up beneath him and swallow him whole.
When Jared speaks Jensen can tell he's stepped around in front of him, and he's standing very close.
“Just breathe, Jensen, just breathe.”
Jensen tries to force himself to open his eyes and look at the Dom who has done this to him and he can't. He tries to whisper “I'm sorry", his lips move but no sound comes out.
"Please do not apologize. If anything, I should. That is not at all the way I usually begin, especially with a new bottom. I think we both got a little carried away, didn't we, Jensen? However, that was…quite remarkable.”
Jared's voice is different, quieter, but even more powerful. There's something more there, it's… intimate, conspiratorial, as if he can reach right inside Jensen and connect, whether Jensen wants him to or not.
Cautiously, Jensen opens his eyes and raises them to his Dom, not surprised to find Jared standing right in front of him.
“That's never happened…I'm-”
Jensen remembers that Jared just told him not to apologize and shuts his mouth.
Jared smiles, his eyes shining with the glow of endorphins. When he speaks again it's like a caress Jensen can actually feel on his skin, sliding down his cheek to his throat, where the collar lies.
"No, you will not be sorry. What you will do now is kneel, and rest for a minute. Down, Jensen.”
Jared hooks a finger through the ring in his collar and tugs gently and Jensen goes down to his knees with none of his usual grace. Jared lifts his hands from the top on his head, unclipping his locked wrists as he pulls his arms down at his sides. From His pocket Jared produces a handkerchief and puts it in his hand.
"Clean yourself up."
When Jensen hesitates to give back the soiled linen Jared gives him a sarcastic smile and takes it from his hand.
“Stay, Jensen. I'll be right back."
Jared is only gone a moment. When he comes back he's holding a bottle of water in one hand and a long leather leash folded in the other. He clips the leash to Jensen's collar and gives him the bottle.
"Drink, Jensen."
While Jensen drinks the cold water Jared folds the leash in his hand, leaving only two feet of slack between them. Jared’s eyes move slowly over his body, assessing him carefully. Jensen can tell that he stops to think a moment before he speaks, choosing his words carefully.
“Now that we have established that you will tell me the truth, there are so many questions I want to ask you… but we have plenty of time. Let's start with something simple. What's your very favorite thing to be beaten with, Jensen?”
“A flogger, Master Jared.”
"Leather, suede, rope, latex or rubber?"
"Leather, Master Jared.”
“Mm, of course." Jared’s thumb brushes lightly across Jensen' s lower lip. “Open. Good boy. Hold yourself here for me."
Jared slips the folded end of the leash between Jensen's teeth, his fingertips lingering over his mouth for just a moment before he drops his hand and moves away. Jensen hears him going behind him to the cabinet and opening the latch. When he returns Jared places three whips across a side table to Jensen's right, their lashes hanging down off the edge. Two are leather floggers, the strands of one thicker and longer than the other. The third is a braided single tail with a fancy, carved wooden handle and a tasseled red fall that looks like silk.
“This is my favorite." Jared comments quietly, touching the handle with deliberate care.
When he takes the looped end of the leash from Jensen's mouth Jared strokes the leather down his cheek and a little shiver runs down Jensen's spine at the caress.
“How are you feeling now, Jensen? Are you ready to give yourself up to me?"
I already have, Jensen thinks, but he nods and answers promptly,
“I'm feeling fine, thank you Master Jared, I'm ready.”
"Good boy. Let's go down the hall. Follow."
Jared gathers up the three whips and tugs lightly on the leash. Jensen rises smoothly to his feet, falling in step behind Jared's broad shoulders. He's led across the big open sitting room and down a long hallway to a door at the end that Jared opens with a code on a digital pad next to the door.
“I don't have a proper playroom here, but the meditation room works well enough.”
The room Jensen steps into is almost empty. Tatami mats cover the floor, and in the center a white yoga mat is placed directly under a large lantern chandelier, the glass box framed in copper and blackened iron. Jensen sees the ring at the bottom and thinks only Jared would be able to reach that high up. There's an antique candelabra standing in one corner, holding six tall white pillar candles, and in the opposite corner a large blue glass bowl on a wooden stand holds a small fountain that bubbles softly over stacked river stones. The only furniture in the room is a large blue steamer trunk against the wall. Jared walks Jensen to the mat in the center, and Jensen looks into Jared's eyes, waiting for his command.
“Are you ready to be restrained, Jensen? I want to put you in bondage now and see if I can make you feel something else. Maybe, I can even make you feel a little helpless."
“Yes please, Master Jared, I'm ready to be put in bondage."
"Good boy, let's do this.”
Jared can move very fast, for a person his size. His wrist cuffs are clipped together, the leash is moved from his collar and clipped to the carabiner at his wrists and his hands drawn up over his head before Jensen knows it. Jared reaches up over his shoulder and suddenly Jensen is hanging by his cuffs, his heels raised up just slightly off the floor.
“Mmm," A little sound of pleasure escapes from Jensen's lips when he tests his weight against the leash and finds himself fully supported, with no give or stretch to the leather.
“Don’t worry, that strap is stronger than it looks, and that ring up there can hold three times your weight. You're not going anywhere, boy, you're all mine now.”
Jared walks away somewhere behind him, and Jensen resists the urge to twist himself around to watch him. Instead he focuses on his breathing, taking long, slow breaths to relax his body and be ready for Jared when comes back. Jensen hears the strike of a match and smells the hint of sulfur, and he knows Jared has gone to the corner of the room to light the candles. When he comes back into Jensen’s line of sight he's unbuttoning his long sleeved white dress shirt and slipping a pair of silver cuff links into a pocket of his suit pants. He strips his clothes off without any hesitation, but doesn't seem to notice Jensen's attentive stare, cataloging each inch of golden skin revealed. When he's stepped out of his underwear and is standing naked before him he finally meets Jensen's wide-eyed gaze with a smirk.
“Intimidated, Jen?"
“No Master Jared," Jensen breathes reverently, “Not at all. But also…wow. That's, um, one for the record books.”
"Usually more of a hindrance than a blessing, I can assure you. But if it impresses you, well, that's worth the inconvenience.”
Jared gives him a devilish smile before turning to pick up a pair of folded black cotton gi pants sitting on the lid of the steamer trunk. He steps into them nimbly and ties the drawstring, giving Jensen a deliberate, assessing perusal, his eyes traveling slowly down and back up his naked body.
“You're ready, and you look… so, so beautiful, Jensen. You're perfect, perfect for me. I could leave you hanging there and look at you for hours, but that would be very selfish of me.”
Jared talks to him while he shakes out the longer of the two floggers, walking slowly in a circle around Jensen's suspended form.
“I have a real appreciation for the simpler things, sometimes all you really need is a reliable piece of leather and some sixteenth century Japanese iron. You do, too, I can tell. You appreciate consistency, longevity. It never lasts long enough for you, does it Jensen? They're always in a hurry, aren't they? In a hurry to get you down on your knees, to get their dick sucked, to fuck you. It's always over way too soon. But I can do this for hours… let's see if you can wear out my arm, Jensen, let's really see how much you can take from me.”
While he talks Jared floats the long strands of the flogger very lightly over his back and shoulders, swinging the whip in slow figure-eights so that the thick mass of lashes slide in gentle sweeps over his skin.
“Don't tense up, baby, relax, I won't tease you too long, I already know you hate to be teased. It's just saying hello, Jen, just getting to know you. It's going to touch you everywhere, every inch of your gorgeous body kissed by my whip. Oh, you love that idea, don't you?"
“Yes! Yes, please Master Jared"
Jensen calls softly, his eyes shut tightly, his body straining to move into each light splat of the lashes on his back and his hips.
Jared avoids his welted ass cheeks, and Jensen imagines what it will feel like when he goes there, and his cock stirs, making it suddenly impossible to think about anything else.
Jared's voice pulls him back, hooks him in like a puppet on a string, and Jensen' s mind submits, rolls over, picturing himself laid out wide open at Jared's feet, exposed and waiting to be taken.
“Such a very good boy, such a hungry, needy little pain whore. I've got exactly what you need, Jensen, now you take it from me."
Jensen can't stop himself from moaning when the flogger finally lands on his back with the weight of Jared’s arm behind it. It feels so, so good. The weight of it, the little stinging bites the tips of each lash take, spread out across the left side of his upper back. Jensen rolls his shoulder into the kiss and groans the softest,
“Thank you, Master Jared."
“Shh, I know, I know how bad you need it, you can have it all, now, just hold still."
Slow, steady impacts, the tips of the flogger nibbling little bites of hot, stinging pain all over his back, covering him methodically from shoulder to waist, left and then right, only avoiding direct contact with his spine. Jensen can tell when Jared's arm is warmed up and he falls into a perfect rhythm, the impacts harder now, coming exactly eight seconds apart with uniform force.
When Jared has worked his way down his back, over his hips to the backs of his thighs and is gradually making a path back up he starts to talk to him between the lashes.
“Tell me … Jensen… which do you prefer… when it lands … like this… or like this?... Which is better?”
While he talks Jared gives him two with the flogger landing with the lashes grouped tightly together and dragged slowly over the point of impact, the heavy thud of leather on his flesh feeling almost like the rap of a belt or a paddle. Next he gets two lightning fast lashes when only the tips of the flogger make contact with his skin, biting into him with the ferocity of a cane or a knife.
Now who's showing off? Jensen thinks, but he opens his eyes and answers readily, without giving any thought to his words, just letting Jared drag the truth right out of him.
“Both, oh God I love both, Master Jared, but the first one the most."
“Thank you, that's my good boy, just eat it up now."
Jared spends a long time on his legs, the flogger landing alternately in heavy smacks and sharp, kissing bites across the backs and the sides of his thighs again and again until every inch of skin is mottled, swollen and trembling. By the time the whip creeps up to his welted ass cheeks Jensen's cock is fully engorged, bobbing against his belly with the movement of his body on every impact and Jensen is so far gone he doesn't even know what he's trying to say when he cries out, “Guh, pleeease Master"
" Jensen, give me color?”
"Green! morepleasegreen! "
“Good boy. Yes, more, so much more… Be nice and quiet now… don't distract me… that's a good boy.”
Jensen isn't worried about Jared breaking skin anymore. What Jared is doing with the weapon in his hand takes a lot of practice and considerable skill, and Jared has mastered it completely. There will be no misses and no mistakes, and Jared can make the whip do anything he wants it to. Jensen lets go, he stops thinking about timing his breathing to Jared's rhythm and just lets himself feel every bit of it, absorb it, so that he feels every impact throughout his whole body, melting under the flogger’s heavy, heavenly touch. He hears Jared murmur,
“Oh yeah, there you go, that's my boy" and he knows Jared’s got him, and gives himself over completely to his hands.
Some long time later Jensen comes back from the dreamy, warm place he's been floating in when he realizes Jared has slowed down his rhythm and the impacts are gradually lighter until Jensen can barely feel them, and finally, it stops.
“Green! Green I'm fine!"
“Hush, Jensen, it's okay, we’re not stopping, just taking a little break. You were getting a little shocky on me."
" No, I'm not, I'm good, I promise!"
Jensen argues, feeling panic start to coil in his belly. Gradually, he realizes he's shivering, covered in goosebumps and cold sweat. When he tries to force himself to stop trembling and can't manage it he knows Jared is right, and his Dom is only doing what he's supposed to, looking out for him.
“Okay, You're right, I'm sorry, Master Jared. I didn't feel it."
“I know. Just relax, we're not stopping. I Just need to hydrate you, let you come down for a few minutes. I'll be right back."
Jared comes back to him with a bottle of water and a towel. He wipes Jensen's face carefully with a corner of the cloth, removing the sweat from his forehead and the corners of his eyes with a gentle touch. He wipes down his shoulders and chest with attentive care, talking to him in a low voice that conveys patience and restraint.
“I only stopped because I had to, you know. You were too far down in your subspace to realize your body was screaming red."
“I'm sorry, Master Jared, I'll try to be more aware and tell you the truth when I call color for you. Was maybe yellow, though, not red,"
Jensen argues softly, afraid Jared will hold back when they continue.
Jared smiles and tosses the towel away from them on the floor. He gives Jensen a drink from the water bottle, lifting it to his lips.
“Oh, you're very stubborn, aren't you, Jen? But really, I'm not surprised… you were taking about eighty percent of my arm for a long time, that was… words are inadequate, you're amazing.”
Jensen preens under the praise from his Dom, who has just given him the very best flogging of his life. He wants to tell him, return the compliments, but all he can get out in his current state is a heartfelt,
“Thank you Master Jared."
" Drink more water,”
Jared brings the bottle back to his lips and holds it steady while he takes small sips, finishing most of it before Jared is satisfied and takes it away.
When Jared reaches out to touch him it's just one fingertip, trailing slowly up and down the inside of his arm, raised over his head.
“So that's the second time I've gotten carried away with you… I think you're very dangerous.”
Jared grins widely at his quick, "Thank you Master Jared” which seem to be the only words he can say.
“It's been a long time since I got to play with anyone who could take even half that.” Jared tells him thoughtfully, “It feels wonderful."
“Can I have more?"
Jensen whispers, not sure he's allowed to ask.
“Yes, definitely."
Jared nods, his bright, excited eyes dancing over Jensen's face, scrutinizing him intently.
“I want to restrain you a little more, keep you held tight and wide open for me. A harness for your cock, I think, to make sure we don't have any more unintentional eruptions, and a spreader bar on your ankles, to keep you totally open and available to me. Would you like that, Jensen?”
“Yes please, thank you Master Jared"
“Good boy."
Jensen thinks about how Jared has asked for his verbal agreement to almost everything they've done so far, and wonders if it's because he's paid for Jensen's services, and maybe that muddles the issue of consent in Jared's mind. Or, maybe that's his style with all his submissives, maybe making him ask for it turns him on.
Jared goes to the trunk against the wall, taking his time to make his selections. It gives Jensen a moment to collect his thoughts and try to hit the reset button on his ‘work brain’. Jensen reminds himself harshly that Jared is a client, and after tonight he may never see him again. This is not a date, not the start of something wonderful, he doesn't belong to Jared, and Jared owes him nothing.
Jared comes back to him with his arms full, setting his burden down at Jensen's feet. A frown creases his features and he steps in close, his hands cupping Jensen's face.
“Hey, you okay? What just happened in there?"
"I'm okay, thank you Master Jared.” Jensen whispers, turning his cheek slightly into Jared’s big hand. It's impossible, now, for him to hide anything, to give Jared anything but the truth.
“I was just… You made me feel something.”
"Oh baby… you are so beautiful, Jensen. I'm right here, I got you."
“Thank you, Master Jared."
Giving in to the impulse, Jensen turns his cheek and presses his lips ardently to Jared's palm.
“Gonna take such good care of you now"
Jared promises, his hands leaving Jensen's cheeks to reach up over his head and release the strap holding him. Jared pulls his arms down in front of him slowly, rubbing his biceps and then his forearms through the pins and needles as circulation returns.
“It is, actually, a crime to cover up even an inch of this skin… But you've been hanging off your arms for quite awhile, so… let's just keep you comfortable.”
While he speaks Jared lifts a wide black leather bondage belt from his pile and wraps it around his waist, buckling it snugly. Jensen’s wrist cuffs are quickly attached to the silver rings on the belt at his sides with smaller clips. When he curls his wrists and reaches with his fingers to feel them Jensen finds he can't reach, can't get to the metal holding his hands locked to his sides, just above his hips. Jared steps back and gives him a delighted grin, watching his hands.
“That's a little frustrating, huh? You can't touch your face, you can't touch your cock, you can't even reach far enough to touch the belt, can't cover anything up from me. I like that. You look stunning. Spread your legs, Jensen.”
Jensen steps out to the sides obediently and his ankle cuffs are quickly attached to the spreader bar. It's not too wide, it doesn't interfere with his balance and he still feels stable on his feet, but his legs are held far enough apart that it's impossible to draw his thighs together and he's held open, fully displayed and available for the man standing in front of him.
Jensen is eyeing the harness in Jared's hand, a thin piece of leather with four silver rings attached, smaller from top to bottom. He's worn one before, he doesn't like them. Jared catches his wary eyes and gives him a reassuring smile.
“I promise I read the contract, Jenny. No heavy CBT. Don't worry, I'm not going to damage your lovely goods. But…I think we have a problem. This is not going to fit, you're too big for it.”
Jared's gaze is on his dick, which hardens fully at the attention Jared is giving it, sizing him up with an expert eye, so he misses the profound look of relief on Jensen's face.
“Yeah, definitely not going to fit, you’re much too thick for it, what a shame. I'll have to get one custom made for you, hmm? But for now, we'll just…improvise.”
Jensen almost misses the last thing he says, as heat rushes through his body and his limbs go taught in their bondage. Jared wants to have something made especially for him? Even if it is a damn dick harness. It means Jared is planning on seeing him again, and of course Jensen shouldn't let that thrill him right down to his toes, but he simply can't help it. He has time to get the dumb, shit-eating-grin off his face while Jared turns his back to him. He goes back to the big antique toy chest and rummages bent over it for a minute. Jensen takes the opportunity to admire the fine, muscular ass and very long, thick thighs shown off when the soft cotton pants ride up and pull tight over his tall frame.
When Jared comes back to him he has something small and black folded in his hand. It's a length of silk paracord, not much wider than a shoelace. Jensen groans pitifully when Jared unwraps the thin black rope, letting it fall from his hand and folding it in half. Jensen knows what's coming.
“Really? You can take a beating like that, but you'll complain about a little bit of soft rope wrapped around your balls?"
Jared teases, looking totally unconcerned about Jensen's trepidation.
“Sensitive"
Jensen mutters through clenched teeth, as the cord is wrapped around him at the top of his ball sac, pulled snug but not painfully tight yet.
“Oh yeah?"
Jared crosses the two lengths of cord and wraps it around the base of his cock three times, going halfway up his shaft and putting in a slip knot when he's done.
“How sensitive?"
Jared begins to tickle over his balls touching him very lightly, brushing the pads of his fingers across the silky smooth skin. Jensen moans forlornly at the overstimulating sensation that is too much to be either pleasure or pain. He shakes in his bonds, tossing his head.
“Very, Master Jared.”
“Up here too? Or just your nuts?"
Jared palms the head of his cock gently, fingers sliding down to stroke the top half that's still exposed.
“No Master Jared, just down there, my balls."
Jensen gasps, hips rocking forward into the tantalizing sensation of Jared's fingers sliding up and down him with a light, delicate touch.
" Mm-hmm… so I can whip you a little here…but not here?"
Tickling fingers return to his over-sensitive sac, rolling his balls and tapping them with the lightest of spanks until Jensen lets out a high pitched squeal, and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.
“Wow, okay, really that sensitive. So I can't hurt you here like I want to… guess we'll just have to make up for it someplace else.”
“You can… you can do anything, anything you want to me, Master Jared.”
There are tears stuck in the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away rapidly, willing his body to relax, to look brave and calm and ready for this man he inexplicably needs to offer his very best, most complete submission to.
“Oh baby, you're so good. How did I get so lucky?"
Jensen can only moan in response, unable to form words while Jared’s skillful hand torments him. Jared slaps his balls lightly, just enough to make them bounce and send a white hot bolt of fire up his dick. He's so hard under the restraint of the rope, his balls so swollen he wants to scream but he holds it in, begging Jared silently with wide, desperate eyes.
Jared growls, long and dangerous, sounding exactly like a big, angry dog.
“You look at me like that, and I'm going to take you apart, boy. Gonna break you in a thousand pieces. Wanna make you scream, Jensen."
Jensen’s eyes burn right back into Jared’s wild stare, groaning back, "Do it!”
Jared picks up the shorter flogger, shaking it out at his side and rotating his wrist. His voice is silky soft but deadly serious when he commands,
"Don't move.”
Jensen locks himself in place and nods once, watching Jared's arm pull back. There's no teasing and no build up this time. Jared steps in close and Jensen can see the sweat on his upper lip and the heat in his cheeks, his eyes zeroed in on Jensen's chest. The lashes of the shorter flogger are narrow and sharp, biting into the skin under his right shoulder. Even though Jensen was watching, it moved too fast for him to see it, touching his flesh and disappearing behind Jared's back in a blur. The bloom of pain barely has time to register before the whip snaps back against his skin again, laid down right next to the first, and Jensen knows, with a sinking, helpless sense of abandonment, what he's in for.
Jensen has the presence of mind left to throw his head back, lifting his face well out of the way as the sharp, mean little flogger moves across his collar bone to the hollow of his throat. Each strike of the lashes is tightly grouped and lined up perfectly next to the one before it. Jensen chokes when it lands at the base of his neck, right in the hollow spot between his collar bones. If he didn't have total confidence in Jared's aim, being whipped this close to his face would be terrifying, but Jensen just holds his head up high and gasps for air while the whip dances across his left side to his shoulder.
The feel of this flogger is definitely different from the one Jared used on his back, it's not nearly as heavy, and Jared isn't swinging it as hard, either. The burning bite it takes on his body goes deep but fades quickly to a hot, dull ache. Jensen thinks these marks won't last as long as the ones still throbbing and alive on his back and he drops his chin down, wanting to see them.
Jared is moving the whip left to right now, making a second scorching line of blotchy red circles across the top of his pecs. Jensen is fascinated, still trying to watch the whip land on his skin. It moves so incredibly fast, with a loud snap each time Jared pulls it back. The two-note beat of the flogger landing on his chest and snapping back through the air lulls him for a moment, Jensen can feel the twin air currents of the whip as it comes towards him, and Jared’s harsh breath as he exhales on each strike, the puff of his air landing across Jensen's neck or shoulder just after the whip.
Suddenly Jensen realizes that the flogger has nearly completed the second line across the top of his chest, and when Jared moves down again the whip will undoubtedly strike right across his nipples, and a big shudder runs through his whole body, making his shoulders, hips and legs shake.
“Okay, easy. Gotta hold for me, Jen. You can do it baby."
“Yes Master Jared!"
Jensen hisses, grinding his heels into the floor and pushing his shoulders back, his arms straining at his sides in their bondage. “I can… I can be good for you!”
“So good. Just let it come to you. Let me inside.”
Jared's instructions land with the whip across the tender skin at the side of his pec, and then right on top of his nipple and Jensen lets out a high, short gasp and holds, holds the fierce bite of Jared's whip deep inside while the pain radiates and throbs on his skin.
“That's it, that's my boy, good boy, Jensen, good boy." Jared croons to him in a sing-song as he strikes, and a profound sense of pride and joy bubbles up over the pain, and Jensen’s cock throbs in sync with the whip, stroking quickly across his breastplate.
“Please, yes, please, yes”
Jensen chants repeatedly in a whisper, barely aware that he's doing it. The whip comes over to his left nipple and the pain is so deep inside him, opening him up until it feels like Jared is ripping him wide open, a gaping chasm of hurt and hunger, an aching, desperate need that runs straight down to his balls, swollen up hard as rocks in their bondage.
“Please, please, please, I need, I need it, please."
“Fuck yeah. Take it so good, you love it.”
“Yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes” Jensen continues to agree until the whip takes his voice, takes him right out of his body. Somehow he's still able to hold himself up for Jared, and he hopes he's holding still, still being good, but he doesn't really know. All he knows is that Jared has him, Jared is in control of every last splintered piece of him, his breath and his thoughts and his senses and Jensen is nothing but a ball of fire in his hands. The flogger gouges lines back and forth across his ribs and his belly, taking big, hungry bites out of him.
When it lands on either side of his cock, and then right over the head, Jensen screams, throwing his head and his shoulders back and letting Jared tear it out of him. Jensen thinks he's going to fall over, and then Jared's there, strong hands grasping his shoulders and holding him steady.
“Okay. I got you. Come back, Jensen."
Jared's eyes find his and hold him. Jensen holds on for dear life, every muscle in his body taught, hands in tight fists stuck on the belt, his toes curled hard against the floor, his legs are shaking. Jared is so close, Jensen wants desperately to lean forward and slump against his chest, for his arms to catch him and hold him tight. Instead he swallows down the sob trying to bubble up from his throbbing chest and pushes out one little word, hanging onto Jared's intense eyes with the last of his strength.
“Hi”
"Hi, beautiful. How does it feel?”
"Help-" Jensen coughs, clears his throat and tries again, and this time he's able to gasp out, “Helpless, Master Jared.”
“Oh Jensen,"
Jared folds the whip over in his hand, holding the ends of the lashes wrapped against the handle. He raises it slowly to Jensen's mouth, and Jensen drops his chin to kiss it reverently, lifting his eyes to look at Jared when he does. He wants to show Jared the pain, to share it with him. The rawness of that need claws at his insides, mixing with the burning ache in his balls and dick and the throbbing alive-ness of his skin all over his chest and belly. It's all for Jared, and Jensen longs to tell him, but he doesn't have any words.
Jared's voice is rough and raw when he speaks,
“I'm rarely at a loss for words, but Jensen you…slay me.”
Jensen can't look away from Jared's eyes, can't think of anything to say to express the profound feelings he's experiencing, all he can do is whisper, “Thank you, Master Jared" and hope he's understood.
Jared bends his head down and presses a soft kiss to Jensen's cheek, and then another gentle kiss on the other side. Jensen lifts his chin up hopefully, his lips pursed in anticipation, but Jared draws back, asking,
"Can you stay on your feet a little longer? I want to get a good look at what I've done to you.”
“Yes Master Jared, I'm okay."
Jensen thinks he's about a dozen ways from “okay", in every direction, but he's just trying to tell Jared he's able to hold his position and stay on his feet.
Jared takes two steps away from him and picks up the towel, taking it to the fountain in the corner. Jensen feels immediately bereft at the loss of his nearness, and fights down the fear that always comes with being left alone and untethered in bondage after a scene. He keeps his eyes fixed on Jared, watching him return with the wet towel folded over his arm.
“I'm right here, not leaving you."
Jared murmurs, and Jensen marvels, wondering how he knows, if everything he feels is suddenly written across his face. Jensen feels a sense of relief when his Dom steps in close behind him, one reassuring hand laid at the back of his neck, right below the collar. The cool, wet towel slides lightly over his shoulder and across his upper back offering soothing relief. Jensen trembles when Jared's fingers follow it's path, stroking with the barest, gentlest touch.
“This looks… so exquisite. I marked you maybe a little more than I'm allowed to, I think.”
"It's okay,” Jensen rushes to tell him, unsure how to say what he wants to. "I don't mind.”
Jared's fingertips slide slowly after the cool wetness, tracing the shapes of the marks for him. His voice is low, reverent and hypnotic when he tells him,
"It looks amazing, Jen, gorgeous…and the way you took that, that was the most perfect thing I've ever seen."
" Thank you Master Jared. You… Thank you.”
Jensen searches for the words and comes up empty, there is no way to express in words what it meant to him, what it felt like. He wishes Jared would come back and stand in front of him and let him drop to his knees. He wants to kneel before Jared so badly he almost asks for it, but the towel and Jared’s light, trailing fingers on his skin are giving him so much pleasure he can't bring himself to stop it.
“Such a good, sweet boy, you were so beautiful, the way you ask for it with your body, the way you take it from me. I'm so proud of you, Jen. Do you know how remarkable and rare it is, what you can do? What a fucking waste to let anyone who can't appreciate… I'm sorry… Just know, Jensen, how good you are, how much you please me.”
“Yes, Master Jared."
It's all Jensen can manage to force out over the lump in his throat, fighting down the need to beg, to beg for Jared to take him and fuck him and keep him forever.
Jared's fingers have traced every welt on his back. Now the soft, petting hand slides down, palm spread wide over his asscheek, cool and smooth on the hotness of his abraded skin. Jared croons to him, moving his palm in slow circles over the welts.
“Mm-hmm, that's right, you're my good, precious boy… and right here, right here is where I made you come. You came on the pain like a vicious little monster, didn't you, baby?”
"Yes, Master Jared”
Jensen mumbles back, the words the only ones he knows to beg for more, for the touch not to stop.
The sure, steady hand strokes him with the lightest touch, able to soothe the pain and remind him of it at the same time. Jensen moans when Jared’s fingers slide down his cleft, begin to tease his asshole with light circles and little taps.
“I didn't get the whip in right here though, did I? Next time… Think I have to fuck you now, can't wait to be in here, all up inside this perfect, gorgeous ass… You want me to fuck you, Jen? Tell me!”
Jared's voice deepens, going rough on the last two words and the command opens the floodgate, words come spilling out of Jensen's mouth without any forethought.
‘Yes! Please Master Jared, please I want you to fuck me, want your dick inside me, please put it in my ass.”
“Oh yeah, right here, so hot, boy. Gonna split this ass right open, gonna fuck this tight little hole so good. Want you on your back so I can look at you.”
Jared's fingers leave him abruptly and warm, wet lips press a hot kiss to the back of his neck, just below where the collar is latched. “Get you out now.” Jared murmurs near his ear, and then his ankle cuffs are being released from the spreader bar and his wrists are taken off the belt. Jensen waits obediently for instructions before he moves his hands or feet.
"Good boy, Jensen."
Jensen's knees dip at the praise like a physical reflex and Jared chuckles softly.
"Okay, kneel.”
Jensen's body melts down to kneel at his feet with a quiet "Thank you, Master Jared."
Jensen's hands go behind his back and his neck bows down, sinking fully into peaceful submission before the man who has put him in this state. For once Jared doesn't tell him to look up, just lets him kneel in silence for a long, quiet minute. Jared's hand reaches out to lay over the top of his head when he tells him,
"I have another question, Jensen, but this one you should only answer if you want to, you don't have to, understood?”
Jensen nods, and Jared clears his throat.
"This is very much outside the lines, but, I want to know… is there someone you play with on a regular basis, outside of work?”
Jensen looks up, then, into the hazel eyes that hold him as well as any restraints when he answers,
“You mean am I in a relationship? No, Master Jared."
Jared's hands move to grasp his shoulders, holding him in a firm grip when he asks again,
“No one? There's no one you scene with outside of work?”
Jared’s eyes are so intense, boring into him to dig out the truth.
"Well, once a month I do a shibari exhibition onstage, with a general kink Q&A seminar after, it's at a bondage club, my friend Jeremy runs it and I usually go help him out with the demo if I don't have an appointment. That's it though, we don't play together privately. And work… Um, work isn't usually anything like this.”
"What's it like?"
Jensen shrugs into Jared's hands,
“It varies, most of them don't have that much experience with kink, some are trying it for the first time. Sometimes they just want to talk dirty to me, call me names and stuff, a lot of spanking, some roleplay.”
“And they fuck you?"
“About fifty percent, the rest oral.”
" Do you enjoy it, when they fuck your ass?”
"Almost never. Um, how do I say this? People who pay for sex generally aren't very good at it, and it's just…work.”
“And tonight? Is this work, Jensen?"
Jensen takes a deep breath, “Master Jared … can I ask why you're asking?”
"Later."
Jared's voice is clipped, and Jensen drops his head, his eyes fixed on the floor between Jared's feet. A huge, empty ache forms in his stomach and Jensen wishes he could take his reply back and answer the question.
Jared sighs, and his hands release their hold.
“It's okay, Jensen. Stay there, I'll be right back.”
"Wait! Please, Master Jared, please could you… could you just lock my hands up before you go?"
Jared turns back to him, one hand petting reassuringly through his hair.
“You don't like to be left alone. Okay, then…” Jared picks up the leash from the floor and snaps it on his collar, "Just come with me. Follow, Jensen.”
They go through the door and back out into the hallway, Jensen walking carefully on the leash, mindful to keep the proper distance without pulling on Jared's hold.
Jensen is surprised and stops short when Jared stops at a door halfway down the long hallway. He had thought they might be going to the kitchen for water, or back to the cabinet in the front room.
Jared opens the door and enters a large bedroom suite, with Jensen a careful two steps behind him. The room is enormous, but sectioned off into an office, sitting area and what must be a massive bed Jensen can only see the foot of behind a long black lacquer Chinese screen. There's a breakfast bar along the wall and doors that must be closets and bath.
Jensen is momentarily stunned, by both the opulence of the huge suite, and by the fact that Jared has brought him to his bedroom.
“You leave your mouth open like that an’ I'ma shove something in it, Jenny."
Jared grins at him, an evil twinkle in his eyes. Jensen keeps his eyes fixed on Jared while he licks his lips slowly, and lets his jaw drop further, a little tremble in his lower lip. It's an invitation he's never had refused before, and Jensen doesn't realize he's done something wrong until Jared's eyes squint at him, and for a second he looks genuinely angry. His voice is nearly a growl, spitting the words at him.
“That's very pretty, perfectly executed, they all fall for that every time, don't they?"
Jared stares at him intently for a terrible, long moment, and then his face relaxes, and his voice is quiet and much kinder when he asks,
"You're nervous? Uncomfortable here? Do you want to go back to the other room?”
“No Master Jared, I'm sorry! This is fine, here, anywhere, wherever you want."
Jensen has to force himself to stop babbling and take a breath, and he feels his face blushing red.
“Well, there's lube here, and a very nice shower, and a very large bathtub."
Jared croons suggestively while he closes the short space between them, wrapping the leash around his hand as he comes to him. His free hand slides up the leash to hook into the ring of Jensen's collar, pulling his face close until Jared's lips are hovering right over his.
“Right now all I want to do is lay you down on the floor and fuck you to kingdom come."
"Yes, please Master Jared.”
Jensen whispers, going down on his knees in one fluid motion when Jared pulls down on his collar.
"Good boy. Stay. Right back, I promise.”
Jared takes the time to quickly lock his hands in front of him and push the looped end of the leash into his mouth before he turns away, going behind the big standing screen. He's back in only a moment, with lube, and another small bottle. Jared squats down next to Jensen, sitting still on his knees and watching Jared with big, hungry eyes. Jared drops the bottles on the floor, takes the leash from his teeth and then reaches for Jensen's wrists, unhooking him.
“Lie down, on your back."
Jensen slides his bottom off his ankles and lays back, his arms at his sides.
“You feel more comfortable locked down, don't you?" Jared murmurs quietly, reaching over him to clip each wrist back to a ring at the sides of his belt.
“Yes, thank you Master Jared." Jensen breathes, lost in Jared's remarkable, every-color eyes.
Jared rises from his crouch and pulls the string on his gi, letting the pants drop off his narrow hips and fall to the floor, kicking them away. Completely hard and ready, Jared’s cock looks even more enormous, and Jensen feels a surge of trepidation that makes him shiver.
“Oh my god" he mutters under his breath, not really sure if he's scared of it or not.
“It's okay, Jensen, don't be nervous. I'm not going to hurt you.”
"Okay, but I might need some help… I have poppers in my jeans… Can I get them, please?”
Jared frowns, shaking his head.
“You don't need that shit, Jen. Just let me take care of you.”
Jared drops down to kneel next to his hip, hands reaching to stroke lightly over the marks on his chest. “I want you to stop using that crap, okay? It's bad for you."
“Yes, Master,"
Jensen answers softly, smiling up at his Dom’s serious expression. He doesn't bother to argue, or tell Jared that he carries the little amber bottle of amyl nitrate as a precaution only, and he hardly ever uses it. Jared's possessive, somewhat authoritative instruction doesn't irritate him at all, and Jensen acknowledges in his own mind how much he wants Jared to own him right now, to have the right and the responsibility to tell him what to do and not do with his body. Within the context of their scene, Jensen will give his consent to anything Jared asks for, and Jensen’s brain is stubbornly refusing to even consider anything that will come after this scene ends.
“Good boy. This is just pure aloe vera, a little sticky but it's very helpful. How's your back on the carpet, tolerable?”
"Yes Master Jared, it's fine. Uhmm, thank you Master! ”
Jensen moans in surprise and ecstatic pleasure when Jared’s hand, thickly coated with the cool aloe gel, wraps gently around the top half of his cock, stroking him with a light, smooth touch, palming the sore head gently, spreading the wet of the cool gel in slow circles on his tip.
“Do you want this taken off?"
Jared tugs once on the slipknot, loosening the tie.
“Yes! yes please!"
“It's going to hurt…"
Jared croons softly, his fingers tickling lightly over Jensen's tied up balls, making him shiver. Goosebumps break out over his freckled skin, and his nipples wrinkle up hard.
“I know. Please, take it off, please Master Jared.”
"Good boy, Jen, hold still."
Jared murmurs, leaning over him with his huge body while he quickly unwraps the cord.
Jared covers his lips with his mouth, taking the sharp cry that comes out with the shooting pain and giving him his tongue. Jensen sucks mindlessly, clinging to Jared's mouth and shuddering hard in his bonds. Jared's body shields him and Jensen arches up, desperate for contact.
“I love the way you beg me with your body, so fucking sweet."
Jared mutters over his mouth, and licks the drops of sweat above his upper lip. Jared's big hand slides down to palm his balls, holding him through the pain. Jensen's not sure if Jared’s touch makes it better or worse, all he knows is that he's harder than he's ever been in his life and his whole body is throbbing, begging for release.
“Oh shit, God please!"
Jensen doesn't even know what he's saying, but Jared knows, his hand moves up to wrap firmly around the base of his cock, squeezing him hard enough to back him off from the edge.
“Easy, easy boy, not yet, be good now."
" Okay, yes Master Jared, I will, thank you”
"Shh, hush, relax now, there you go…”
Jared moves away from him for just a moment, and then Jensen feels his thumb, pushing a glob of lube into his ass. Jared's fingers are bigger and longer than any that have ever opened him, and he seems to know exactly when to hold still and wait, and when to move, making the initial penetration painless and smooth.
“Open your eyes, look at me. Such a good boy, so hot, and nice and tight, but I know you can take me. Give it up, now, give me this ass.”
Jensen sighs, spreading his legs wide and melting down in total submission, his whole body lax and loose under Jared's magic touch, sliding deeply into him and curling up devilishly to rub over his prostate. Jared seems to know exactly how he likes it, and he fucks him long and slow and so, so deep, his long fingers twisting inside him and giving him so much pleasure Jensen can hardly breathe.
Jensen is in such a euphoric state he's only vaguely aware of Jared moving to kneel between his legs, lifting his thighs and settling him high up on his lap. He hears him from a far off distance, crooning,
“That's my good boy, take it, now…”
And suddenly he's slammed back into the awareness of his body as the huge head of Jared's cock breaches his hole and Jensen seizes up in sudden, rushing fear.
" Easy, easy now, take it easy, just take a breath.”
Jared's palms hold his hips up with undeniable strength, long fingers sunk in across his cheeks, spreading him wide open. Jensen has no choice but to submit, to let Jared hold him up on the head of his gigantic cock and let himself be lifted up and rocked gently down in slow, tiny increments until he realizes Jared has stopped moving, he's holding still again and talking to Jensen in a low, steady voice.
“You're good, you're so good, baby, you're safe, everything’s okay, just take it now, nice and slow, let this pretty little hole just swallow me up, that's a good boy…”
Jensen stares up into soft, sleepy eyes and wonders at Jared's restraint. Jared could be brutal right now, he could be slamming into him and making Jensen take his monster cock any way he wants to, but he's not. Jared is holding still with just the head inside him, smiling down at him, answering the question in his mind again.
“Because you're much too precious to break. I can wait. I told you I wouldn't hurt you. You're gonna beg me for it, Jen.”
And just like that, because Jared says so, Jensen's muscle relaxes and Jared slides in another inch oh so slowly, strong hands holding Jensen up, preventing him from sinking all the way down on the thick, long shaft.
“Master Jared, please!"
“Mm-hmm, yeah? Want a little more?"
“Want it all, want it all up inside me. Please, put me down, let me have it, please?"
Jared is staring down at him, his eyes moving over Jensen's face with so much possessiveness, dominance and pride Jensen thinks for a second that he can read Jared's mind, too, and it's not a surprise when Jared tells him in a deep, hard voice,
“This ass is mine."
"Yes, Master.”
Jensen closes his eyes, ready to take a brutal thrust that doesn't come. Instead Jared slides all the way into him agonizingly slowly, the iron grip on his hips lowering him down as Jared flexes and moves his hips with total control. It feels like the steady penetration is going to go on forever. Jared's cock is enormous inside him, he's so full it's scary. Jared's cock is as big as the largest dildo he's ever taken, and after that experience he literally couldn't walk the next day. But Jared is being very careful, guiding himself inside with the slowest, relentless stroke until finally he's all the way in, pelvis pressed hard to Jensen's stretched-wide hole.
“Can you open your eyes? I want you to see this."
Jared's hands are stroking and massaging his hips over the places where his fingers left bruising marks, his cock completely still, buried all the way inside him.
Jensen tucks his chin down into his throat to watch as Jared rolls his hips in slow circles, rubbing over the sweet spot inside him without thrusting. Jensen groans and tries to rock his hips into it, but the way he's laid out on Jared's lap and fully impaled on his cock gives Jared all the control.
“Hold still. Stop trying to fuck me back and just feel it. You took it all, Jensen, got my whole cock up inside you. How does it feel, baby? Does it feel good?"
“Yes! Good. Huge. Oh fuck, fuck me, please!”
Jared pulls back just a little, his thrust back in slow and fluid and careful, his eyes fixed on Jensen’s face.
“Can you really take it?”
Jensen finds all his strength, undulating his lower body from his solar plexus, he grinds down into Jared's thrust, arching his back, and grins up at him,
“All night long."
"Jensen… you are… so fucking perfect. Do that again, baby."
Jared's voice gets a little shaky, his grip on Jensen's hips tightens again, but his movement inside him stays slow and steady.
“Oh fuck yes, grind down on me, like that, love to watch you move."
"Jared. Turn me over and fuck me like you mean it.”
Jensen realizes that he's spoken in his real, not-at-work voice, without an honorific, and looks up apprehensively to Jared's face, but the expression there is more than pleased, it's triumphant.
Jared yanks himself out fast enough to make Jensen yelp in pain as the big head pulls at his rim, but Jared just grabs his waist, manhandling him as he growls,
“Roll over."
Jensen tries to help, pulling his knees up and spreading them wide when Jared's strong arms flip him over on his stomach but Jared pushes him back down with a firm hand on the small of his back.
"Down, boy. Gonna fuck you through the floor. Take my cock, take it all, right back inside you. Good boy, take it.”
Jared's voice is hot and wet next to his ear as he lays down over him, letting Jensen take most of his weight with one arm braced next to his shoulder. The length of him ruts up hard between his cheeks before Jared’s arm shoves between them to line himself up against his hole. Now when Jared breeches him it's with force, still not brutal, but unstoppable, sinking into Jensen with one long, hard push that burns and buries him to the hilt.
Jensen doesn't try to move to meet Jared's thrusts, he lets Jared's weight push him down into the floor, giving him complete submission and imagining himself opening up wide inside to receive him. Jared's thrusts are so powerful they move Jensen up a couple inches on the floor each time he drives into him, dragging him painfully over the carpet until Jared gets one arm underneath him, forearm locked across his stomach to hold Jensen tight against him. Now when Jared rocks into him he pulls Jensen up tight against his chest and he can feel hard muscle and hot skin against his back.
“You good, Jen?"
Jared gasps in his ear, driving into him hard, making Jensen’s answer come out in a matching gasp.
“Yes!"
“Oh baby, I am in love with this ass."
Jared changes his angle, grinding into him with short, sharp thrusts that abuse his prostate until Jensen is letting out a loud, shaky moan with every thrust.
Jensen is just struggling to form the words to beg for permission to come when Jared pulls out of him with a shout and Jensen feels the hot streaks of his ejaculation landing over his ass cheeks and his lower back. Jared is still shuddering through the last of his orgasm when he grunts,
“Roll over."
The arm locked around his middle grabs his hip and helps to flip him over and Jared’s big hand wraps around him, able to cover almost his entire length in his fist. It only takes a half dozen strokes of Jared's tight grip and he's shooting all over his own chest and belly. Jensen tries to say, "thank you, Master Jared” but only gets the one word out audibly, a softly groaned,
"Master.”
"Yes, baby,”
Jared purrs back, his eyes roaming possessively over the mess on Jensen's torso.
“Not giving you back, Jensen, you're mine."
“Okay, yes Master,"
Jensen exhales softly, his mind a blank fuzz of orgasmic contentment. It's been so long since he's actually enjoyed an orgasm by anything other than his own hand. He feels so good, he's so high, so fucked-out happy that he doesn't even know what he's agreeing to, just that he wants to respond “yes" right now, to anything Jared says.
"Do you know what you're saying, Jen? Are you with me yet?”
"Huh?”
Jared recovers fast, his eyes are clear and serious, staring down into him and demanding Jensen's attention.
"I said,” Jared's voice is quiet, but hard as steel, the look in his eyes cold and calculating again, like it was at the start of their play. "You're mine. I'm not giving you back.”
"What?”
Jensen hears himself mumble, and he tries with all his might to get his brain to work and understand what Jared is telling him.
"But I have to work, I'm under contract. That's not even possible."
"Oh baby, are you really that naive? Nothing is impossible, Jensen. When you have obscene amounts of money at your disposal almost anything is incredibly easy. I can buy out your contract with one phone call. But I haven't even given you time to breathe. Let's clean you up, and get you something to drink, then we'll talk. Come, Jensen.”
Jared rises and draws Jensen to his feet in one motion, his hands holding onto Jensen’s arms with a strong grip.
Jensen is dizzy when he finds himself upright, the floor under his feet, and he's grateful for Jared's strong grip under his elbows, holding him steady until he finds his balance. Jared's hands slide down his arms to grip above his wrist cuffs and his voice is quiet and persuasive when he tells him.
“Come with me, Jen."
He leads Jensen slowly across the room, walking backwards, his eyes and his hands on Jensen, he pushes the door open with his back and leads him into a bathroom easily half the size of Jensen's apartment. Jensen is led around a corner and past a huge sunken marble tub to a shower that runs the length of the wall with a long seating bench and many shower heads.
Jensen is only a step away, still within his reach, but Jared murmurs,
“Come here, Jen,"
So Jensen moves closer, as close as he can get to Jared without their skin touching, and Jared smiles, satisfied.
“Good boy. Let me take off your cuffs and collar so I can put you under the water."
Jensen lowers his head, offering the back of his neck for Jared to work the latch on his collar.
When the four cuffs and collar and belt are laid out on a towel on the vanity Jared adjusts two of the shower heads and presses buttons on a panel on the wall. Taking hold of Jensen’s elbows he draws him into the shower with him. Soon they are enveloped in steam and Jared moves him under the soft spray. He stands behind Jensen, sluicing warm water over his chest with a cupped hand.
Jensen is so relaxed, he finds himself blurting out the question in his mind without thinking.
“Is that why you asked me if I had a Top?”
“Yes."
“What if I'd said that I do?"
“But you don't."
“But I can't just- I don't even know what you- You don't even know me."
"Hush, Jensen. Let me take care of you, then we'll go sit down and talk.”
Jared puts his hand under a chrome square on the wall next to them and a dollop of foaming soap drops into his palm. He moves them a step back, out from under the spray of water with his other hand flat on Jensen's chest. It stays there, pressed in the center between his pecs while Jared washes his back very gently, his soap slick hand making slow circles on Jensen's welted skin. The soap burns a little, but the steam and Jared's touch are soothing. Jensen tries to relax and hold still, knowing Jared can feel his heart pounding hard right under his hand. It seems wrong to just stand there and let Jared wash him when it's he who should be doing the work. He should be washing Jared, maybe even going to his knees and blowing him here in the hot steam.
“Relax. You can serve me later.” Jared murmurs, his hand roaming slowly over his back. He strokes the marks he left with a light touch that's familiar now, relaxing him both physically and mentally, so that Jensen sighs and asks the question that’s been foremost in his mind.
"Please, tell me how you do that, Master Jared.”
“Do what, Jensen?"
“Read my mind."
Jared chuckles, reaching for more soap. “I'm not, I'm reading your body, it's very forthcoming."
“Oh."
“However, there are a great many things I would like to know, that your body won't tell me."
“Like what, Master Jared?"
“Let's see… coffee or tea?"
“Coffee. I love coffee."
“Hm, noted, caffeine freak. Wine or beer?"
“Both are okay, I guess, but neither, really. I don't really drink."
"Not at all, or not very often?”
"Not very often. It's not a good idea when I'm working, and even when I'm not, I don't really like the feeling. It's not… I don't know.”
"Not safe?”
"Yeah, something like that.”
"Uh-huh, okay, so some control issues, not that surprising. Summer or winter?”
"Fall. By far the best season.”
"Interesting. Okay, anal or oral?”
That makes Jensen laugh. "Both, Master Jared, definitely both."
“What if you could only have one, forever?"
"Wow, um, I guess it would be anal.”
"Mm-hmm, good."
Jared is soaping his ass meticulously, fingertips rubbing tiny circles over his skin.
“Do I get a turn in this game Master Jared?"
There's a pause, Jared seems to be more interested in running his long, smooth fingers up and down his cleft than answering, but finally he sighs and says,
“Okay, boy. I'll give you three."
Jensen doesn't have to think about the first one.
“Only boys, Master Jared? Or boys and girls?"
Jared chuckles, and presses a hard kiss to his shoulder.
“Only boys, Jensen."
Jared seems relieved at the direction of his question, so Jensen continues in the same vein.
“Always kink? Or sometimes vanilla?"
“Guess I have to say always kink, but sometimes more D/s than S/m."
“Noted." Jensen murmurs, mimicking Jared's teasing tone back to him. Then, because he can't think of another sex question he tries for something lighter.
“milkshake or banana split?"
Jared laughs, and the sound of both delight and relief does something powerful to Jensen's insides.
“I don't partake. Completely lactose intolerant. But lemon or lime sorbet is very nice."
"No sweet tooth then?”
Jared smacks Jensen's ass hard enough to make him jump.
“No cheating. You got three. It's my turn. Turn around."
Jared begins soaping his chest, gently massaging sore muscles that melt under his fingers. His gaze stays on Jensen's chest, and he looks deep in thought, taking a long minute before he asks,
“Family ties close, or broken?"
“Burned,"
Jensen answers flatly, and Jared only nods once and changes direction.
“Cats or dogs?"
“Cats, I have a cat."
Jared's eyes narrow, “Just one?"
“Yes. Solomon, but I just call him Sol."
“Is this cat house trained?"
“Of course, he's a cat."
“Hm. Books or movies?"
“Oh that's a really hard one… books."
"Charming. I think that's enough for now.”
Jared turns him under the spray and guides his torso back and forth to remove every trace of soap from his skin. Huge hands slide down to cup his cock and balls possessively, guiding him under the spray to make sure every inch of him is rinsed thoroughly.
“There you go, nice and clean. Sit, Jensen.”
Jared pushes him down gently to the marble bench, stepping under the spray to wash himself with quick, efficient swabs of his soaped hands over his chest, abdomen and cock.
Jensen watches him, mesmerized by the long, thickly muscled lines of his body, hard six pack below deeply cut, rounded pecs, nipples bright pink against lightly tanned, golden skin.
“You okay there, Jenny?” Jared asks, his tone teasing, obviously comfortable with Jensen’s blatant ogling.
“You’re perfect, Master Jared.” Jensen murmurs back without thinking, just telling the exact truth of what’s in his head. A little voice in the back of his brain tells him it’s time to start pulling himself up out of subspace, to pull back from Jared now, but he doesn’t want to, just the thought of it is painful and makes him want to cling to the hard body in front of him.
“I’m not, my torso’s too long for my legs, not proportionate. However, it’s very nice to be appreciated.”
Jared gives him a patently rakish grin and turns off the water spray.
Jensen’s mind is a confusing cacophony of opposing thoughts crashing against each other as Jared gently pushes him out of the shower and wraps him in a giant, fluffy white towel. His work-brain is insisting it’s time to get it together, to be ready for the scene to end, to regain his self-possession and thank Jared politely for a lovely evening. In painfully sharp contrast, the purely animal, deeper part of his submissive consciousness refuses to cede the power to lift himself up from subspace. He doesn't want to have to think right now. He wants nothing but to stay quiet and pliant and let Jared lift his arms and turn him this way and that, moving the towel very carefully over his marked and tender skin.
Jared opens a door to a small closet and pulls two bathrobes off of their hangers, pulling one on over his still wet body before guiding Jensen’s arms through the other, wrapping the tie around his waist.
“Come with me, Jensen.”
Jensen follows without a word, and Jared takes them back into the bedroom suite. Jared leads him over to an ottoman in the sitting area with an embroidered silk cushion.
“Sit down here for a minute.”
Jensen sits gingerly on the edge of the wide square cushion, glancing around at the furniture surrounding him. He's afraid to touch anything in this room. He has plenty of wealthy clients, but they almost never bring him to their homes, preferring to meet in hotel rooms, and while he's been in some pretty high-class hotels, Jensen's never seen anything like this.
“Jensen? Are you okay?"
Jared asks quietly. He hasn't left his side, standing next to him with a light hand on his shoulder.
"Do you need your collar back?”
Jared's concern for his mental state makes unfamiliar feelings twist up inside Jensen and it takes a moment for him to answer. There's a rush of warmth and gladness that Jared is still looking out for him and desiring his submission, followed quickly by guilt, because he knows he shouldn't be reacting this way. Jared is his client, and he shouldn't be able to make Jensen feel anything at all.
This time, Jared's mind reading abilities are a little off the mark, but Jensen isn't going to explain that it's the opulence of his surroundings rather than the lack of a collar that's making him uncomfortable. Jensen doesn't need a collar around his neck to remain firmly placed in submission to Jared's dominance, both his brain and his body are doing that all on their own.
“No, thank you Master Jared, I'm fine."
"Good boy. I'll make us some coffee, and then we can talk.”
Jared goes to the coffee bar, asking, “How do you like your coffee, Jensen?"
"Just black, but I can make it, Master Jared.”
“Sit, Jensen. Relax. I told you, you can serve me later. Right now just sit there and look pretty."
Jensen listens to the coffee brewing, trying to blank out his mind and follow instructions. He has no idea what to expect from Jared, what he's going to say, or what is expected of him. All he knows is that he doesn't want this to end, and the thought of separating himself from the perfect state of submission he's in and leaving Jared already feels like being split in two. Just the thought of what it will feel like when the moment comes is physically painful. Nothing like this has ever happened with a client before, and Jensen doesn't know what to do. His attraction to this man is more than physical, it's all-encompassing, swallowing him in a bottomless sea of need and submissive desire.
Jared turns to look at him and his brows crease, lips turned down in displeasure.
“What is it, Jensen? Tell me."
“I… I don't know how to say, Master Jared. I'm not supposed to… I don't know how to… I'm sorry,”
Jensen clamps his mouth shut, teeth clenched against the sob trying to exit his throat.
"Sweet Jensen. It's okay, baby. Coffee’s almost ready. Would you like to see the terrace? Why don't we go sit outside.”
Jared lets him take both steaming mugs and Jensen follows him, careful not to spill a drop of coffee on the carpet. They go back down the hall and across the sitting room to the floor to ceiling windows where there's a door out to a wide balcony that runs the entire length of the penthouse. The air is cool and smells fresher all the way up here, thousands of city lights sparkle below them. The view is breathtaking, capturing Jensen's attention so that he barely notices the sleek seating area Jared leads them to.
“Sit down here with me. It's peaceful out here, isn't it? This is my favorite place here. I don't think I could stand spending so much time in the city without it."
Jared takes his wrist, drawing Jensen's hand into his lap and turning it over palm up on his thigh, his thumb digs in gently, rubbing a deep line from his wrist to his middle finger and back. He continues to stroke his hand while he speaks, the touch grounding Jensen so that he’s able to let go of his anxiety enough to concentrate on Jared's words.
“Are you comfortable talking to me about your work life, Jensen?"
"Yes, I think so, Master Jared. What do you want to know?”
“How long have you worked as an escort?"
“Two years, Master Jared. Well, it will be two years next month."
“All with the same agency?"
“No, I've been with this one for almost a year."
“Are you satisfied with them, feel like you have a fair contract?"
“Well, it's about the best one to work for, they're screening process is the best, and I get to keep a straight thirty percent, plus tips.“
"How many days a week do you work?”
"Usually four, unless I'm set up to do something special.”
"Special like this?”
Jensen nods, taking a moment to answer this time. It's hard, talking about the time after he'll leave Jared.
"Yes Master Jared. I'll have the next four days off.” Jensen finally answers quietly, his eyes on his hand held on Jared’s thigh.
“Four days… is that all the time it will take you to forget about me, Jensen? The marks I put on you will barely have healed in that time.”
Jared's voice sounds strained, and Jensen shakes his head quickly, offering a quiet, "No, Master Jared. I won't… Not at all."
“Then stay, Jensen. I want you to stay, I want to keep you. And you should know, Jensen, I always find a way to get what I want."
Jensen takes a deep breath, and looks up to Jared's eyes.
“If I did…how? I mean, how could that possibly work? And for how long would you really want to keep me? I know you said you could buy out my contract, but then what? Would you still pay me? And what about you, everything about your life? I mean, you're famous, the paparazzi probably follow you around, sooner or later there'd be headlines about your live-in prostitute. I don't want my picture on the front page of a tabloid. And what if it totally fucked up your life?”
"Easy, Jensen, slow down a little. Let me answer one question at a time.”
Jensen takes refuge in his coffee, gulping the hot liquid while barely tasting it. Jared holds his hand firmly, turning it over now to rub his thumb over the back of his hand. Jensen looks up to Jared's eyes over the blue rim of his mug, and the affection and determination he sees there make him tremble.
“You look so scared, Jen. Don't be scared. I told you, with endless resources, almost anything is possible, the only question is, is it worth the effort? And you most definitely are. You asked me how it would work, and for how long, and you have concerns about the financial logistics and media exposure. Let me offer you this… A sabbatical, to give you time to adjust and make an informed choice, and for us to work out all the details. You said you have the next four days free, I'll engage you through the agency for your next week of scheduling after that, and that will give us plenty of time.”
"There's a limit to the time you can schedule with me, it's forty-eight hours, weekends only.”
Jensen hears himself mumbling, completely overwhelmed by what Jared seems to be offering. It's not that he's never considered entering into a 24/7 power dynamic relationship, but the idea of doing so with someone he met four hours ago, with a client, should seem completely insane. It should, somewhere in his brain he knows it is, but his attraction to Jared is so strong it blots out everything else.
Jared’s lips are curled in a tight, sardonic smile, his almond shaped eyes squinted at him until Jensen squirms. The thumb stroking the back of his hand has stilled, but Jared's grip has tightened to just short of painful.
“I know, well, I am reasonably sure, that you are not deliberately trying to aggravate me. Jensen, you already know how much I dislike having to repeat myself. Take this for an absolute truth, and believe it… with unlimited resources nothing is impossible. I assure you that securing a week of your time from your agency will be no trouble at all. Now do you have any other concerns regarding what I've proposed?”
Jensen nods, and tries to find his voice, pinned under Jared's smoldering stare. "Yes, I do, lots… but also, yes, Master Jared," and with that Jensen slides off the low couch to his knees, placing himself between Jared's legs. After a moment he finds the courage to curve his spine and lay his head down on Jared's knee.
“Good boy, Jensen.”
Jensen can hear both relief and victory in Jared's deep voice, can feel them both in the heavy hand laid across the back of his neck, repositioning him and holding him down firmly against Jared's thigh.
“Thank you, Master Jared. I'll try to be-"
“Shh, no more talking now, plenty of time for that, just be quiet with me. I really appreciate silence, I don't get a lot of it, and yours is so beautiful, Jen, you don't even know what your silent obedience does to me. Take that off, it's not too chilly, is it?"
Jared smiles at the tiny shake of his head and watches him slither out of the thick robe without rising from his knees. It falls behind him and Jensen feels the cool night air on his skin, the sensation of being naked outside in the safe space between Jared's thighs thrilling and exhilarating. Jared leans forward and Jensen feels the feather light touch of Jared's fingertips skate over his back, feeling out the welts greedily and tracing their shape. The familiar, light press of the pads of his fingers just enough to recall the sensation and make Jensen shiver with pleasure at the tingling, phantom pain. Finally, when Jensen is hard again, and panting softly on Jared's thigh, Jared leans all the way back on the couch and scoots down a little, tapping the loose tie of his belted robe with two fingers.
Jensen’s hands reach eagerly for the belt but Jared bats him away with one hand, the other reaching up to pinch his bottom lip and draw him forward. He loves to watch Jensen thinks, as his teeth work delicately to undo the loose knot, freeing it slowly with as much seductive grace as he can muster, the heat of Jared's eyes on him as real as a touch. He finally pulls the belt free and drops it with a shake of his head, stealing a glance up at Jared when he does so.
Jensen sees so much warmth and satisfaction in Jared's keenly focused gaze, he wonders how he could have ever thought those eyes cold and calculating, even though he knows they can change in a heartbeat. Jared nods permission, and Jensen uses his mouth to move the robe out of his way and find Jared's cock, fully hard and waiting for him. When he takes it in his mouth Jared’s palm comes up under his chin, preventing him from sliding down past the head.
“Go slow, Jen, real slow, take your time."
Jensen opens his mouth and lets his breath puff out over the wet, shiny head. He hears the softly rumbled "Ahh" of Jared's exhaled breath, and starts to slide the tip of his tongue slowly over the slit. Jensen licks and nibbles with his lips, going all the way around circling the head without taking him into his mouth again, and Jared’s hands drop to his sides when he groans out a quiet,
“Good boy, that's good."
Jensen is thinking about how he has given literally thousands of blowjobs in his life, and certainly there have been many cocks that he has bestowed real adoration on and thoroughly enjoyed worshipping, and still, nothing has ever felt quite like this. He closes his eyes, focused entirely on the perception of the tip of his tongue, using tiny, hard flicks and softly pressed circles to learn every pore of Jared's huge, beautiful cock. He draws a low, contented groan from his Dom as he works his way very slowly down the shaft. Time stops, Jensen loses all awareness of his surroundings, all of his being focused on Jared's cock and the chance to give him the best blow job he's ever had.
Considering what he's just agreed to, Jensen thinks he should be freaking out right now, at the very least his brain should be running at top speed, trying to figure out how to protect himself and benefit from this totally unexpected, radical change in his life. Instead he feels himself slipping even more deeply into a suspended state of pure submissive bliss, floating in the silent, tactile world of his mouth and Jared’s cock, nothing else matters. This feels like the most important, most significant moment of his life, and he’s going to give it everything he has. Jensen concentrates on pouring every ounce of the devotion and adoration he's feeling into licks and kisses as he works his way slowly down to the root and back up again. When he finally closes his lips over the head Jared groans and raises his hips up slightly into Jensen’s slow descent.
“Yes, Jensen."
Jensen expects to feel Jared's hands clamp down on his head, holding him still so Jared can fuck his mouth but Jared surprises him, remaining passive and letting Jensen do as pleases. Jensen holds him in his mouth with his tongue flattened against the underside and makes a leisurely descent, opening up his throat and taking him deeply until he's all the way down to the base. If Jared thrusts now he'll choke him, but he stays still and Jensen does too, taking short, shallow breaths through his nostrils.
“Show off" Jared groans, sounding very pleased about it.
Jensen tightens the suction of his throat in response, using his tongue to rub up and down, reaching to stroke over every inch of him he can.
“Christ, Jensen" Jared's moan draws an answering, "Mmm” from Jensen and pleasure surges through him as he pushes himself to the limits of his skill, deepthroating him again and burying his face in the soft patch of hair at the base. Jared's thighs tremble as Jensen rocks slowly, keeping Jared buried deep in his throat.
Jensen is barely aware of his own cock rubbing against Jared's leg as he lifts up on his knees to bob up and down on the full length of the rock hard, filled to bursting cock in his throat. Jared hisses a warning, “Yes" and Jensen pulls up until the head rests on his tongue and he can catch and hold all of Jared's cum in his mouth. He looks up to his Dom, waiting for permission, one little drop wet on his lower lip.
“Good boy. Swallow, Jensen." Jared's hand reaches for his mouth, rubbing the drop across his lips.
“Thank you, Master," Jensen’s voice is hoarse, his vision a little blurry from the tears in his eyes after his exertion.
Jared's voice is low and mellow when he answers, holding out his arms to him. “You please me so well, come here, baby, come sit on my lap."
Jensen blushes, shrinking down on his knees, wishing he could make himself smaller. "I'm too big, Master" he murmurs in deferential protest, and tries to lay his head down on Jared's thigh again.
Jared leans forward and pulls him up, scooping him with a strong arm behind his knees, he lifts Jensen off the ground effortlessly and drops him on his lap.
“And I say you are not. You're not too big for my big lap, you're just a wee, delicate flower." Jared chuckles, holding him tightly with his arms wrapped all the way around him.
"God you're strong” Jensen breathes, trying to make himself as small as possible.
“Relax, Jen, just want to hold you. You're fine here, you fit just right."
Jared tucks Jensen's head under his chin, one hand stroking soothingly over his shoulder and down his arm.
“Such a very good, talented boy."
Jared murmurs into his hair, one hand sliding over his side and down to stroke his hip. Jared's big, warm hand finds his cock and wraps around him, holding him still in his fist.
“You're hard for me."
Jared murmurs softly in his ear.
“Yes, Master Jared"
Jensen whispers back, rubbing his cheek over the top of Jared's muscled shoulder and feeling a sense of deep satisfaction and rightness in his place in Jared's arms. He relaxes completely, letting Jared take his weight.
“Do you know why?"
Jared croons, his hand stroking up and down his cock once, as if asking the question.
“Why, Master?"
Jensen whispers back, hungry to be told, to be told what and why he is, here in this euphoric moment.
“Because it's mine, only mine. Your cock is mine, and you are mine and I'm going to keep you. I'm going to keep you and take such good care of you, give you everything you need. I know it's going to take some getting used to, but if you can give yourself to me completely, I promise to make it worth it.”
"Yes Master Jared,” Jensen answers automatically, but then two words slip out, without him even realizing he's saying them out loud. "I'm scared.”
"I know, baby, I know. But it's going to be just fine, everything will be okay, you'll see. I'll take care of everything. We'll talk more about it tomorrow. Right now… would you like to cum for me, my good boy? Can you do it again, baby?”
"Yes please, Master,” Jensen moans, as the hand holding him begins to jack him slowly, long fingers reaching down to pet over his balls with each downward stroke.
"That's my good boy. Should I tell you about what I’ll want to do with you tomorrow?”
Fingernails scrape lightly up his shaft, sending a thrill through Jensen that makes him thrust his pelvis up desperately into the next stroke, and Jared cups his balls, squeezing very gently and making him groan,
“Please, Master."
"I'm going to tie you up, spread wide open on my bed, and take a crop to that pretty pink hole of yours. I'm going to spank your asshole so sore you cry, and then, then… I'm going to fuck the living daylights out of you. Fuck you hard enough to make you forget every other cock that's ever been in your ass, and then you'll be mine, all mine, and when I'm finished I'll make you cum again, just like this, just because I want you to.”
“Yes, please yes, oh, oh please," Jensen hears himself begging but the only thing he's really aware of is Jared's fist stroking him so perfectly it's like his own hand, but so much better.
“That's my good boy. You only come for me, Jensen, only for me."
“Yes Master! Now, please? Please now?"
“Yes. Come for me. Give it up, baby, yeah, that's good, just like that, good boy, all mine now "
Jared talks him through his release, holding him tightly with one arm wrapped around his chest, he catches most of Jensen's come in his palm, lifting the hand up to Jensen's lips for him to lick it off.
“What a good boy, didn't even make a mess." Jared chuckles softly, while Jensen licks his fingers clean.
“Thank you, Master Jared." Jensen stutters shakily, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm and the emotion he feels, wrapped up in Jared’s hard embrace.
“Just remember how I let you come three times in one night, when you're begging me tomorrow, because I absolutely will enjoy denying you.”
“Yes Master Jared. I'm at your command."
Jensen murmurs the ritual phrase shyly, it feels strange to say it without a collar around his neck, sitting in his Master’s lap instead of on his knees, but it’s absolutely the truth, and he wants to say it to Jared.
Jared’s hand grabs his chin, turning his face up to look directly into his eyes.
“Are you sure now, Jensen?"
“Yes Master Jared, I'm sure."
“Good boy."
Jared's hand grips his jaw, holding him still as Jared's lips seal over his. It's a real kiss, intimate, soft, warm, and Jensen can't even remember the last time anyone kissed him like this. His hands come up to Jared's shoulders, holding on because he doesn't want it to end. When Jared finally pulls back his fingers trace over Jensen’s lips, slipping inside his mouth again to stroke the inside of his cheek and across his bottom teeth.
“I may become slightly obsessed with this mouth," Jared murmurs.
Jensen shivers, and Jared stirs beneath him, lifting him off his lap.
"Let's go inside.”
Jensen picks up his robe and follows Jared back into the penthouse, his hand safely caught in Jared's firm grip.
"There's a guest suite down the hall there you can use for the next few days,” Jared nods towards another hallway off the foyer, "But for tonight, stay with me, Jensen?”
“Sleep in your bed, Master Jared?"
Jensen asks softly, wide eyes meeting Jared's nervously, suddenly bashful.
"Well, that's what I had in mind, but you may have a nest on the floor beside me if you're more comfortable there.”
Jared smiles at his quick shake of the head and his whispered, "With you, please, Master.”
"Good. Come, Jensen.”
Jared’s hand slides up to encircle his wrist, leading him back down the dark hallway to his bedroom suite. Jared closes the door behind him, turning the lock in the handle. He answers the question in Jensen's eyes softly, as if aware of his sudden trepidation.
“The housekeeping staff will be here in the morning, I don't want us disturbed."
Jensen nods, looking around for a place to put the bathrobe he's still holding in his free hand. Jared takes it from him and drops it on the floor. He shrugs out of his own robe and lets it fall, reclaims Jensen's wrist and leads him over to the massive four poster bed.
Jared climbs in under the puffy white goose down comforter, holding it up for Jensen to slide in with him.
“Are you comfortable, too hot, too cold?" Jared enquires, reaching for a remote control on the night table.
“Fine, thank you Master Jared."
Jared presses a button and the lighting in the room dims slowly to darkness. Jensen lays very still and straight, trying to relax and control his breathing, his mind a jumble of disconnected thoughts. What the hell is he doing here, and what will the morning bring? Will Jared change his mind? And if not what will be expected of him? He's lying in bed with Jared Padalecki, like he's his goddamn boyfriend or something…
“Now you're going to freak out? It's a little late, Jen."
“How? How can you possibly not be reading my mind, it's dark!"
Jared emits a deep chuckle. “I can smell your anxiety, and you're trying so hard not to tremble, and to control your breathing, you're practically vibrating. Seriously, don't worry, please, Jensen. I promise everything is going to be just fine."
Jared finds his hand under the covers and interlaces their fingers. "I'm supposing you're not much of a bedtime cuddler, that's okay, I'm not either, but this is acceptable, yes?”
Jared rolls to his side, his free hand reaching to slowly stroke Jensen's chest, fingertips pausing over the remains of the marks he left there.
“Yes,” Jensen breathes, finally able to close his eyes. Jared's touch already has incredible power over him. His touch is soothing, totally unlike the way Jensen is accustomed to accepting a client's hands on his body. From the very first time he touched him, something was completely different. Jensen remembers Jared's firm gasp on his shoulders at the door, and again when he was on his knees, holding him steady. Jared's touch isn't just possessive, or greedy or lustful, it makes him feel safe, in a way no other touch ever has before.
“Not asleep yet?" Jared whispers, fingertips gliding slowly over his abdomen.
“No Master."
“What are you thinking about?"
“You. Your touch."
“Mm-hmm?" Jared prompts softly.
“I like it. Makes me feel…something.”
"Feel what, Jen?”
Jared's whisper is the barest brush of lips over his shoulder.
"Safe, Master.”
Jensen breathes, turning his head towards his Dom’s in the darkness. Jared's lips find his mouth and claim his lips, one hand cradling the back of his head.
"Good. Sleep, Jensen, you're safe.”
Jensen thinks, to get a good-night kiss as sweet as this, it's worth dealing with whatever the morning will bring.
He murmurs one more, "Thank you Master Jared,” before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.
End
***
One more note:
I do plan to continue this, I have two more parts planned, still entirely in my head. It should be forewarned that I write at a snail's pace, but I'm looking forward to starting the next fic when I've accomplished the feat of posting this one to the archive.