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Rescue

By Catherine
Page 2 of 4

"What the hell! "

Without releasing his grip on Avon's hair, Blake struck, a left-handed slap that left its mark in stark relief against pale skin. If Avon gave it away before the signal came, they'd both be lost! Hand stinging, he hoped Avon would understand and forgive the rough treatment. With any luck, the others would work fast and a few slightly rough games would be all that was required. Intercourse was the last step though. Orgasm would spell the end of his session with Avon, and he'd have to leave him here alone.

Bending low to lick at the spot his hand had marked, Blake tried again. "I'm here to rescue you, you prick! The room is being videotaped and it's shielded. The others will signal when we can teleport."

Blake could feel the tension radiating off the other man. He had no choice but to assume Avon would accept that Blake was here to rescue him and that this was the only way to do so. Whispers in the ear were not for pleasure slaves. Besides, what else could he do? Avon's acceptance was not a requirement, it was wishful thinking on his own part. Avon had always been reluctant to relinquish any sort of control. To relinquish this sort of control to a man he hadn't seen in two years.... There was no reason to assume that he would be comfortable with it, despite the situation they were in. Standing back, he released Avon with a sharp cuff to the head.

"Not very good, are you?" Blake taunted, moving toward one of the cases. One eye on the other man, he selected several items, placing them on the table beside the bed. He was afraid he'd need to stretch out their encounter as long as he could. The others should have given the signal by now, something must be wrong. He looked back at the toys he had chosen. Deep down, a small part of him acknowledged that he'd long wished for this sort of control. In the privacy of his cabin on Liberator, it would have been wonderful, exciting, Avon under his control, his to pleasure and to take pleasure in.

He stared down at the other man. Avon's eyes widened at his choices but he didn't move. Until Blake picked up the leather collar.

"No." This was too much, Avon thought. Strangers using him he could deal with. That was impersonal and he could wall himself away. But with Blake everything was very personal. His own feelings were boiling to the surface and they were not for Blake to see, not like this. Why the hell couldn't he have sent Vila? Avon edged away, unwilling to face his own response to Blake's presence, his strength.

Blake glared and moved closer. Why was Avon so uneasy? A collar would hardly be painful, embarrassing yes, but he'd rather do that then hurt the other man. The whips and other more sinister devices made him feel slightly sick, and he tried to assure himself that the others would give the signal long before he had to resort to anything damaging. Knowing Avon, he would play the role of the angry captive as well as he was able to under the circumstances. Blake didn't want to hurt him but it had to look as if he did, or at least as if he didn't care. But he did care, rather desperately at the moment. Feeling the pain of guilt over what he was to do, what part of him wanted to do, he took a deep breath. Collar in hand, he reached as Avon moved off the bed and across the room.

"I said no!" Avon snarled angrily.

Blake strode over, collar in hand. But when he tried to put it on the other man, Avon struck out, his fist just missing Blake's cheek. Avon was frightened, Blake couldn't help but see it. But why? After all he had been through, he was afraid of Blake?

"Naughty." Blake scolded, trapping the smaller man between him and the wall. The naked body pressed against him was hot and hard, sweat beginning to dampen the dark hair. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the spicy scent of the man, dream memories crowding to the surface, fantasies in which Avon had demanded his submission, and teased Blake to the point of pain before granting him release.

An old favorite had been the one where he had conquered his fears and gone to Avon after Gan's death. Instead of mocking, Avon had comforted him, seduced him. His dark companion had kissed him softly, and undressed them both. They had fallen into bed, wrapped round each other. Avon had stroked and kissed him all over, sucking nipples and cock until Blake was blind with need. Then he had straddled Blake, a dark tormentor who rode his cock, driving them both over the edge into orgasm. The first time Blake had dreamt that, he'd waken up in a sticky bed.

Blake pulled himself back to the present as Avon's arms came up, pushing him away. That had been a wishful fantasy. Reality was quite a different matter, Blake thought, and their audience would begin to wonder if he didn't do something soon. The others should certainly have reached the generator by now.

Spinning Avon around to face the wall, a well-placed knee kept the smaller man still as the collar was locked in place. Such a vulnerable sight. It stirred Blake's tenderness and his lust.

Grabbing Avon by the collar, Blake tossed him onto the bed, straddling his chest to keep him down. What he hadn't anticipated was his body's powerful reaction to Avon pressed so tightly against him, the stiffening of his cock at the pressure. Despite his captivity, Avon squirmed, his writhing body pressing up against Blake's inner thighs and genitals. Blake swallowed tightly.

"You are feisty." Blake captured a wrist. If Avon kept up with his antics, it'd would be all over before the signal came. What was taking them so long! "We don't want you to hurt yourself, do we?"

Receiving only a snarl in response and renewed struggles, Blake seized a cuff from the table, enclosing the captive wrist and attaching it to the corresponding link on the bedpost. He repeated the manoeuvre on the other wrist and sat back to observe the effect.

Avon's arms were spread wide, his chest heaving, sweat shining on his face and chest. His eyes were angry, whether in truth or for the role Blake demanded of him, Blake couldn't tell. But it aroused him as Avon's anger always had. Aroused him despite the guilt that such feelings always brought with them. He didn't really want to dominate Avon like that, or at least, he admitted to himself, he shouldn't want to. But he did, gaze dropping away from the angry face. Avon's wine-red cock was half-hard, nestled between pale muscular thighs and Blake ached to touch, to taste, to trace a salty path from face to crotch. Instead, he spoke.

"You're beautiful when you're angry." He traced the aristocratic profile with a fingertip, bringing the sweat to his lips. Desperate for the signal to come soon, he was overly aware of his own tension. He was also becoming aware of Avon's. His companion was clearly wondering how far Blake was going to go and exactly what he was going to do. Avon had always hated not knowing, not being able to control a situation.

"Get on with it." Avon hissed. "Everybody else did." Why should Blake be any different? Used for Blake's cause or to satisfy a stranger's lust, what was the difference?

Blake sighed softly. "So I will." He frowned as Avon's other comment registered. Of course, Avon thought this was impersonal altruism on his part. He didn't know how Blake really felt. How could he, I never told him, Blake thought. He absently stroked a hand across Avon's abdomen, surprised when he felt the flesh tighten. He looked down, seeing the evidence of Avon's reaction to his gentle touch. If only that would satisfy their audience.

Avon tried to hold back his gasp of pleasure as Blake gently stroked him. No, I don't want him to see how much he affects me. Avon was getting desperate. He didn't want to react to the other man's touch but he couldn't help it. Blake's hands were warm and tender in their soft caresses and Avon was reminded of too many dreams he had while Blake was gone. Dreams in which they had admitted their needs and satiated each other, Blake had been caring yet fiercely passionate, submitting when Avon needed him to, taking when Avon needed to give. The memories were arousing in themselves. Avon was helpless to prevent his body's reaction.

"I thought this was supposed to be for my pleasure."

Thoughtfully, Blake picked up a cockring and gag. He was running out of things to do to Avon that wouldn't hurt him! Waiting for the signal was driving him crazy. Why were they taking so long? Fingering the gag, Blake decided to use it. It looked wicked but it couldn't hurt him. Avon certainly wouldn't like it but Blake didn't want to hurt him and he was out of options.

Caressing Avon's erection, Blake watched the dark eyes close, lips parting. At least he's not fighting it now. Silky soft skin over hard need, Blake stroked him, feeling the swelling pulse. But he's still not going to be amused. Handling him is the only way of prolonging this. Let him touch you and you'll be over the edge in a flash. Blake ignored the tiny voice in his head that whispered of the other men's failure to eliminate the generator. Could he carry through with a full session? Could Avon handle it from him? Sliding his hand down to the base, Blake slipped the cockring on. Avon's eyes snapped open.

"My pleasure," Blake reminded. "If you satisfy me, I'll see you won't go.. .unrewarded."

Avon glared up at him before glancing away, refusing even to struggle. With a small shiver, Blake recognized his own increasing arousal, his cock swelling uncomfortably within the confines of his trousers. He leaned close to Avon's face and gazed deep into the dark eyes. Very softly, Avon whispered, "Why like this?" One finger traced the outline of Avon's lips as Blake reached for the gag.

"Like this?' Blake paused. Did that mean that if it hadn't been like this... He stared back at the other man. Avon's eyes were tightly closed. Did that mean that Avon wanted him too? Oh, please let me be right.

"I'm not surprised they provided one of these. Wouldn't want you to bite." Trapping Avon's head between his hands, Blake pried open his jaws, forcing the gag in and buckling it securely. Angry and reproachful, Avon stared up at him, panting as the gag restricted his breathing.


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