January 1995, Cape Town, South Africa

The afternoon's Round Table had been the same as usual, apart from the most disturbing addition of a delegate from a certain resource-rich African country with 'interesting' human rights statistics and a propensity for military machinery. 'Re-structuring' as the man had called it.

Dan had been doing his best to appear politely interested, despite the never-ending palaver. The discussions had finally come to an end, like a painful abscess being removed in slow-motion, and the dignitaries and guests began to mingle. He was never quite sure what he hated more, the endless boredom of talks and counter-talks or the small talk and fake politeness afterwards. Still, he was doing his best to fit in. He had promised Vadim, and they did have to earn money, after all.

Despite his best behaviour, he'd have gladly killed that Colonel. The man had resumed flirting with Vadim, ostentatiously ignoring him while completely refusing to accept that Vadim was not interested and tried to get away. The man was like a leech. Once his jaws had closed into the flesh, he didn't let go. Vadim hadn't signed anything, nor replied to any of the countless emails and phone calls. It had become clear that Nelson simply ignored the fact that his attention was undesired.

Dan glanced over to the cosy little enclave of leather seats, next to the doors that led to the glass fronted balcony. The Colonel was leaning forward, touching Vadim's thigh, who not-so-subtly pulled his leg back, but Nelson simply leaned even closer. Dan's right fist curled beside him. He'd gladly amputate that bastard's hand, and he'd be happy to do it with a blunt knife.

He got up, dark eyes burning with anger. Walking towards the two men, he caught a glance from Vadim, who stood up, and in the motion the dark hand slid off the fine cloth of the suit. Vadim was making his excuses by the time Dan had arrived, and Dan watched Vadim leave for their hotel room. If he didn't know it better he'd have thought the Russian was escaping.

Damn. Alone with the fucker and unable to smash his arrogant face. Oxford education. Queen's English. University degrees and high-flying rank of some exotic country. Sex with Vadim. A goddamned stalker. Insane. Clearly. If only he could have met that man in the jungle, or desert, or in the mountains. He would have stripped the flesh from the bones.

Instead he was drawn into a conversation he didn't want. The 'few words' the Colonel asked for turned into the expected, when he elaborated on how Vadim had been offered a position he could not possibly refuse and he, Mr McFadyen should be reasonable and understand that their consultancy business was last decade if not century, and he was long overdue retirement, since his body had so obviously suffered that much physical trauma, he'd be no good to anyone anymore. It was all a matter of - short - time before the rag-bag of ailments would fail, and he, Mr McFadyen, should have a serious word with Mr Krasnorada to ensure that he accepted the offer that was to everyone's benefit.

Dan was proud for not showing the wanker what that fucked-up hand could do and how much an artificial knee joint in the balls would hurt. He took a few deep drags from his cigarette and said nothing, not showing any reaction, until the Colonel added the sucker punch right below the belt.

"Mr McFadyen?" Lowered voice, dispassionate.

Dan looked up, the polite mask still on.

"In case you ever wondered, no, he did not call out your name while I fucked his tight white ass."

Violence surged into Dan. Bull's eye. But he now knew that nothing could destroy what he had with Vadim, no matter what this bastard said. He lowered his head for a moment, taking another deep drag of the fag, hiding the obvious emotions while knowing that the bastard knew he had won this round. But there'd be others. He exhaled the smoke into the Colonel's face. "You had his arse but you'll never have the man." He stubbed out the butt, turned and walked away without another word.

Dan went straight to the suite he shared with Vadim, grabbing one of the small bottles of beer from the mini fridge. He found his Russkie sitting in the study, flicking through one of the many newspapers and magazines.

Dan leaned against the wall, looking over to the leather suite, beer bottle dangling from the fingers of his fucked-up hand. "I was told I should have a word with you, to convince you that taking the job is for everyone's benefit."

Vadim looked up with a questioning face, folded the newspaper and put it on the glass table. "He doesn't get the message. I told him no. I'll keep telling him no." Vadim put the magazine down. "I'm sorry it got that far with him in the first place. But we were so far apart, and …" He shrugged, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. "I just didn't want to beg you to have me back. All this guy needed was a nod. It was nice to be wanted. I couldn't know he was such a nutjob."

"Beg?" Dan stepped close and raised his hand, placing his fingertips on the old burn wound on Vadim's throat. "At the time I couldn't imagine you still wanted me." He gave a dry huff and wry smile.

"Wanted? Always." Vadim closed his eyes at the touch. "Especially as the farm is thirty minutes away from the nearest hooker."

"Cheers, wanker." Dan huffed a laugh, "that makes me feel so much better." Fingertips creeping along Vadim's jaw. "Mr Nelson pointed out I was a worn-out useless ex-grunt, ex-merc, ex-everything who belongs on the scrap heap."

Vadim flashed a grin at that. "He is wrong. You belong in my bed tonight. Or should we miss the evening networking occasion?"

"Your bed? I thought it's ours." Dan grinned, "We must not miss the networking event. This old battle horse 'enjoys' being blatantly ignored and besides, that old war horse," he prodded a finger at Vadim, "needs food or he won't perform tonight."

A dry laugh came from Vadim. "There is an invention called 'room service' and now I will spend the rest of the event thinking of sex. Much good that does me for networking."

Dan smirked, "In that case, I should put a collar beneath that stupidly expensive shirt of yours. To make sure you remember you are mine while that fucker is flirting with you."

"You didn't actually bring any of those toys here?"

Dan's fingers tightened on Vadim's neck, the grin baring teeth and all, contorting the scar into interesting shapes. "You didn't think I didn't bring some of 'these things', did you? I might have had some interesting talks over the holidays in France and might have done a little shopping as a result of some of our shenanigans in Glasgow? I might be old, but I'm cunning." He dropped the empty bottle onto the thickly carpeted floor, "and, of course, I am forever hopeful." Moving his head closer, cheek against cheek, his own already stubbly again, waiting for its second shave. "I even let you pick my clothes tonight, if I have free reign on what I put you into." Added, lower, "beneath the suit."

"Don't make me wonder what airport security thinks about your luggage x-ray," said Vadim, tonelessly. Mail order made life simple, and sometimes very complicated indeed. He straightened, erection visible in that x-thousand dollar suit. He moved a little forward to cross all the distance that was left, could even be left now. Dan's teeth found the side of his throat, hand on his shoulders, then around them; Vadim didn't want to go to the dinner, fuck the next contract, the next fee, the next meeting.

"Nothing … visible." Vadim reiterated a rule that wouldn't apply. A rule Hooch had set down with him. Everything was possible, as long as it wasn't visible. Nevertheless, Dan made his skin burn, made him sweat with just words.

Dan nodded, agreed silently to rules they'd never set and wouldn't need. It was a game, after all, but this was suddenly different, new, exciting. There was comfortable lust and sex that fit like a glove in well-known parameters of deepest intimacy, and then there was this. Something Vadim had said he wanted and that he was finally ready to give.

"Get yourself to the shower." Dan stepped back reluctantly, the hard bulk in his black jeans a visible reminder of why he didn't want to move away. "Tonight, Russkie, you'll be my cunt, and you'll remember that while the fucker is flirting."

Vadim would have killed to open that fly and suck that cock, and the fact this was his first response, cut to the bone. It was just right, just the way he wanted that, there was the thought of punishment, well, yes, but more than that the deliciously evil glint in those dark eyes. Vadim looked pointedly down at the promise Dan was making. "Keep that thought," he murmured, then managed to turn away, hard as hell, and headed into the bathroom of silver grey marble. He left the door open, grinned as he bent down to untie the laces. He never kicked the good shoes off like Dan did. Dan. Dan who had to be watching him.

Vadim prepared the enema, warm water, something … everything always arousing about the preparations. Loved the feeling of being clean, even though getting there took some getting used to. He then closed the door, didn't want to see Dan's preparations. He tried not to rush it, but it was difficult, warm water in his guts, the feeling of being full, stretched, then cleansed and cleaning, knowing Dan would fuck him and do more than that; he couldn't know what exactly, but he was ready.

He opened the door again, then stepped into the shower. Second part of getting clean. The shave was still fine, he had spent time in the bathroom just this morning. Plenty of time between five o' clock and the start of the conference, all the time in the world to be presentable.

He took a handful of the hotel's emerald green shower gel, quickly washed his short hair, one hand every now and then touching his cock, visible through the clear glass. He washed everything, though, arse, cock, foreskin - had never seen the point to get 'cut' as the Americans called it, even though he'd had his fair share of them by now. Especially Hooch. Always Hooch, Hooch who was suddenly in the forefront of his mind. Maybe because Dan had indicated the game was similar now.

He rinsed, then stepped out, hair and body wet, and returned to the suite. No towel. Just a little self-conscious about the things that weren't as perfect any more, a creeping softness around the waist as his body composition changed. Somehow, it wasn't as easy anymore to stay as defined as he'd been. Time was catching up with both of them, and however often he did those twisting crunches, he was no longer the Greek god. Ah, get over yourself. Or at least try, he thought.

Dan had only left his vantage point once the bathroom door had closed, before Vadim cleaned himself out. Couldn't claim that he liked the sensations himself, but had seen the point of 'fair was fair' and had got used to the occasional enema if what would follow was worth it. He still considered a night-long fist fuck as one of the highlights of his year.

He snatched a small square leather bag out of his suitcase, dropped it on the nearby glass table, having thrown his shoes and socks into one corner, jacket and fine shirt and token tie into three others. He stood in nothing but his jeans and waited until the door opened and Vadim stepped out. Water drops still clinging, glistening on skin that no man of forty-six should have, let alone one who'd been to hell and back, and who had the scars to prove it. Skin that was smooth and soft. Dan's legs were braced, and his face wore an evil grin. "Fucking hell, Russkie, you're not bad for an old war horse."

His body's reaction left no doubt about the sincerity. Forgetting about the discomfort of a prolonged hard-on in tight trousers, it would be hours, according to his plan, before he'd get rid of that. "Bend over," gesturing to the sofa. "I promised invisibility, and you'll get it, but your unruly cock is going to be your own problem." He took the bag and opened the zipper, spilling out its contents of toys. Some tried and tested, others his latest forage across those new internet adult shops. Pulling out something black and smooth, which belonged to the new and untested collection.

Bend over. Vadim stepped to the leather couch, expensive designer piece, caramel coloured Nubuck leather, stylish, with a good, firm back. He rested his arms on the back of the couch, forced his legs apart, feeling strange and erotic, mostly because Dan wasn't already pushing against him. Didn't really want to know or see what the thing was, wanted Dan's cock more than that, but then, he loved Dan getting into this mood, this light hearted and still very dark mood. Like with the Glasgow boys. He had used some Vaseline, slicked himself up like a whore, something that made his balls tighten every time.

"You're fucking perfect," Dan breathed out. That sight would never cease to steal his mind. The long, straight legs, massive thighs tapering towards narrow but strong hips. The powerful back, pronounced deltoid leading towards broad shoulders, and sculpted arms that had retained their chiselled shapes of muscles. The arse …

He wanted to fuck him, so Very. Badly.

"What did he think when he saw your back." Dan murmured, stepping closer to run his hand over the landscape of scars. Tracing the letters. "Did he see what I see?"

Vadim shook his head. Nelson was the last thing he wanted to think about. The word. No way Nelson knew Russian.

"I want you to remember tonight," Dan quietly breathed those words close to Vadim's ear while brushing his fingertips over the scar on top of Vadim's inner thigh, "that you're mine, and I want you to feel that at every movement. When you stand, when you sit, when you walk." He stood so close, the dildo was more an extension of his trapped cock than an object in his hand. Smooth silicone, a size that would be felt for certain - discomfort, sensations, but never pain. He pushed with his hand trapped between Vadim and his own groin. "Consider this my cock, while the fucker is trying to get you, in front of my eyes."

Vadim closed his eyes, straightened the back, pushing against the thing invading him, could tell right away it wasn't fingers, too unyielding, felt it connect somewhere inside with his cock, and gave a low groan. Dan's words so erotic. Mine. Every moment. Shit. He'd be the ex-spetsnaz, the military advisor carrying that thing and being hard as rock. It should be humiliating. Mortifying. Instead it was as erotic as Dan's hand on his groin, in a restaurant, or a quick grope when people were close but ignorant. No, this was one step up. His face was burning, he wanted Dan close, inside, between his legs, in his hand, between his lips. Everywhere. "You think …" Grammar leaving him, couldn't think in any structured way. "I should suck you?"

"No." Dan badly wanted Vadim's lips around his cock. "I want to." Truth, "want so badly, but no." He cleared his throat, could hardly see straight, let alone think. He stepped back, moved over to the bag and the faint sound of metal against metal was heard, before he returned to stand in Vadim's back. "Turn round."

Vadim straightened, felt that thing move inside him, and felt how his balls tightened, cock hard, twitching, every shifting of weight, every step. He'd go 'bonkers' tonight. He turned around to face his lover, looking oddly self-conscious. Feeling that thing there, and didn't dare check what it would do if he tensed his cheeks. It would move. Of course it would.

Dan smiled, said nothing, just moving his head to lick, suck and tease with teeth, lips and tongue those small nipples that never stopped to amaze him. Vadim was far more sensitive than he was, and he could spend hours laving and biting the minuscule focus of hardened flesh. He took his time, even though they had no more but twenty minutes.

Vadim moaned, hands running over Dan's head, his face, the small jolts of pain going to his heart, his throat, his groin, skin heating up, a hint of sweat forming, but above all, the sharp sensation of teeth, then tender again. He could never know what to expect, could never control it even if he pressed Dan's head against his chest. Wanted to pull Dan's head up to kiss him, only that that would make this teasing stop, and he didn't want that.

Dan looked back up, smiling. "I want you to remember the hours I'd spend with your nipples, and in return, the endless nights you'd take, fisting me."

Vadim grinned, then pulled up Dan's face and kissed him, open lips, hungry, but not claiming. Just a confirmation. Fisting. Unrestricted by his own endurance, test of stamina and trust more than tickling lust. He stared into Dan's eyes, nodding.

Dan took in an audible breath and positioned the small nipple clamps on the hardened flesh. Their effectiveness was increased by the moderate weights attached to them, which would make the metal tug and pull whenever Vadim moved.

A low hiss, body protesting, but then it was like biting, like a constant slow chewing. Which Vadim loved. Which would drive him up the walls in about five minutes. Vadim moved his right hand to touch the metal, just brushing it, and was surprised how much that changed. He looked at Dan, saw the rapt attention, the way Dan loved doing this.

Dan allowed him some time to adjust before producing the collar. Black leather, broad enough to make a statement that was beyond the physical sensation of restraint and belonging, and narrow enough to remain hidden beneath the shirt collar. "I want you to remember you're mine, and that you belong to me, as much as I belong to you, and none of that shit of last year will ever happen again. You truly are mine." Dan wound the black leather into a circle, letting out a dry laugh that transformed into a tender smile. "Consider it my wedding ring."

Vadim stared at the collar. Then blinked as the last word registered. Wedding. "Wouldn't … there be some … betrothal thing first?" Kept looking at the collar. Dark shirt. Definitely a dark shirt and the widest trousers he owned.

"I think we did the betrothal fifteen years ago." Dan smiled, saw the wide-eyed stare and sensed the reluctance. Tough shit. "You're mine, remember? Truly mine." He nudged Vadim to make him lower his head, so he could fasten the buckle. The collar sat tightly, not obstructing breathing, but making itself known. Every. Single. Second, and with each breath. "I'd put you on a leash, if I could, to keep you from going off with anymore fuckers, but I guess that's out tonight." Dan smiled, taking a step back.

Vadim swallowed, felt the collar close enough to be there when he swallowed, when anything moved. It was like a strong hand around his neck. It shouldn't feel so fucking good. "It's … a dinner, not a proper long party. Just … stay close." Stay close so I can see how you're looking at me, knowing what's underneath. But you've always known what's underneath.

Dan glanced at the ormolu clock above the fire place. "Shit, ten minutes left. I guess you want me to wear the black tailored suit?"

"Yes."

Dan had to force himself away and hurry into the bathroom, to shed his trousers and jump under a cold shower. His hair would still be wet, couldn't be helped.

Vadim took the suit out and laid it on the bed, carefully selected his own, dark shirt, didn't want to risk the possibility the cloth might allow the leather to shine through. Dressed in his tight swimming trunks underneath, hoping that what was wrong with him wouldn't be so obvious then. He struggled with the cufflinks, Afghani lapis in silver, a private joke, he always carried some Afghanistan with him. Worked well with his usually blue shirts, which worked well with his eyes in the evening. Found the simple act of pulling a chain through a small square of silver impossibly complicated. Fuck, those cufflinks were a pain. He took the dark three piece suit he'd had tailored in Savile Row, London, checked the sheen on Dan's shoes, then his own, untied Dan's laces and put them in plain sight, then got dressed. Dinner. He didn't want to eat.

Dan managed to force his cock back down, and then a quick shave to be presentable. Once in the bedroom, he chose to wear tight briefs this time, his own state would be easier to bear if he didn't have to fear forming an embarrassing tent beneath the finely tailored cloth. Dressing within four minutes, even the bowtie was accurate after the first go, shoes polished and on his feet, he rummaged in his laptop bag before he left the room.

When he stepped out of the bedroom he looked worlds apart from his usual self: a middle aged man, grey temples and fit body, aging disgracefully, but right now immaculate and refined, superbly dressed in the most expensive suit that had been cut to show off in an understated way the maturing elegance of his body. Finest black cloth, chosen by Vadim.

Moving his hands, he wound the prayer beads of Afghani lapis lazuli around his wrist. The left one. The fucked one. He looked expectantly at Vadim. "Ready?"

Vadim heard the faint clicking of the deep blue polished rock around Dan's wrist, and thought that's it. Cufflinks for me these days, but you didn't change. Right now you're SAS in a suit. And you never realised how the tailor stared at you while taking measurements. Because you just don't get it, just don't understand what you're doing to innocent bystanders. "Copy, Sir," he said with a smile. "I am, but you aren't." He indicated his own chest and nodded at Dan. "You said whatever I make you wear."

"I'm not?" Dan's eyes followed the hand, "you sure?" Stupid question, and Dan nodded, turning to retrieve the panel, fixing it in front of the mirror to the left of his chest at perfect height. It was strange to wear them, all those coloured ribbons, above the impressive collection of medals. Active service here there and everywhere, bravery and show of courage, enemy action and the Queen's thanks to one of her own, and, of course, the American Bronze Star with Valour Device. He smoothed them down and realised they meant nothing, but the man reflected in the mirror, he meant everything.

"Let's give them hell." Vadim stood, wanted to get closer and kiss Dan, but knew he'd push him against the wall and grind against him. Instead, he took Dan's scarred hand, and placed a kiss on the wrist, pressed it for a long moment, then took the keycard and opened the door, holding it open for Dan.

Dan looked at his hand with surprise, said nothing, just smiled and stepped through the door. Moving so close, his chest 'accidentally' brushed against Vadim's, manipulating the nipple clamps in the process. "Thirty seconds left, how fast can you walk?"

Vadim wouldn't have been able to lock the door. Sliding a keycard into a lock would have been too much. Catching his breath. What motherfuckers when they got touched. He blinked, staring at Dan, managed to move, feel the thing inside. He'd go insane before they had reached the elevator.

Fast …? Not fast at all. Right now there was no strength left in his legs. He'd suffer a heart attack if Dan went on like that. He was approaching the age bracket for that kind of death. Oh fuck you, Dan. "We won't be the … last to arrive."

"And neither the last ones to come." Dan grinned at his truly awful pun, stopping Vadim before he turned towards the elevator. "If military time keeping is not of importance, we have another moment." He looked along the deserted corridor before pushing Vadim's shirt collar down with two fingers hooked into the front. Revealing the collar but not the scar, hidden below the smooth leather. He leaned forward, kissed the edge where skin touched leather, lingering with his lips. "I hope you remember CPR." He had to adjust his groin after straightening the shirt collar.

Vadim closed his eyes, the thought shocking that the collar was visible, the cameras in this place might not pick it up, too grainy, he hoped. Please let it be too grainy. "You tease. You fucking tease," he breathed.

Taking in a deep breath, Dan ignored the flush of heat in his face. "Let's go," adding, "slowly." Walking towards the elevator he had his hand resting loosely on Vadim's hip, and he didn't give a shit if anyone was watching.

Hitting the button for the elevator, Vadim managed to breathe again. The door slid open, and there were General X and Advisor Y, he couldn't remember the names, not right now, greeting them with a smile and asking about the dinner's menu. One was concerned about the quality of the seafood, the other punned on oysters, and Vadim saw Dan grin at that. Oversexed. Underfucked. Kinky. Those three words spelt hell.

Dan was his most charming self. A far cry from the usual irreverent former merc, he smiled at the General, made a small joke to the Advisor and chuckled duly at the pun about the oysters. It was easy to slip on the fake skin, when he was occupied with something very different. Suddenly all those old men in suits and uniforms didn't count, and couldn't annoy him.

His hand, hidden from view, pressed right against the mirrored elevator wall, slipped onto Vadim's arse, fingers moving down and pushing against the flat end of the dildo, creating tiny movements inside the body.

Vadim thought his knees would give. His arse tensed at that movement, and his face was flushed, always betraying what he felt, fucking pale skin. Mind drifted, cock hard, he felt like he had been hard all his life, all the time. Dan's hand between his arse and the smooth steel of the elevator cabin. Minuscule movements. His lips opened, he found it hard to pretend he was even there.

The elevator doors opened just in time, and they stepped out into the foyer of the glittering dining room. Dan let his hand slip away, the lapis lazuli making a faintly clinking noise.

Vadim brought his hand up to touch his face, no sweat yet, but he looked like he had spent a couple hours in the gym and then sauna and was trying to cool down. While he was still heating up, thanks to Dan.

It seemed the two gentleman were somewhat surprised at Vadim's quietness, but they left to mingle, like everyone else, with promises of meeting and talking and they could see some missions on the horizon that would require two specialist advisors and wouldn't it be beautiful in Madrid in spring, and the Seine was stunning in September, and the delights of Brussels should not be underestimated, and so on.

Vadim remained silent, focusing on not moving. His smile had to be weak, he thought, but he just felt the collar. And it was easier to ignore a bullet in the guts than that thing Dan had shoved into him. Thought everybody had to see what was wrong with him. What was right with him. He kept looking at Dan, who managed to do the movements; social graces rediscovered that Vadim had not been sure Dan possessed at all.

Dan turned to Vadim when they were alone, taking two glasses of French champagne from the waiter, he handed one across. "You know what they say about champagne, goes side by side with the oysters."

Vadim could see his hand was unsteady and he tossed the champagne back like it was vodka, only to get rid of the glass. Best way to keep up appearances. "No oysters. I hate those slimy bitches."

Dan grinned, took a sip from the champagne and spied a dark face and gold-glittering entrance. The anger was immediate, and he hissed through his teeth. "And here's the fucker. Right on cue."

Vadim half-turned, saw Nelson, who in turn saw him, and could feel his body constrict again, as Nelson moved over to greet them. Most probably to only greet him and try to get into his pants again. "Don't use that word," he murmured in Russian. "Hard enough as it is."

"What, 'cue'?" Deliberately being obnoxious, "or 'fucker'?" Dan murmured while smiling his most charming smile - the one reserved for traitors, liars and bastards or bitches. He kept to Russian, the safest mode of communication. "I'll be on my best behaviour tonight, I promise I won't rip his balls off bare handed and stuff them down his throat."

His hand stayed connected with Vadim, a light - possessive - touch at the small of his back, when he decided that attack was the best defence. "Good to see you again, Colonel Nelson. I am sure you will be delighted at this evening's new developments."

"A fair evening to you." The tone of voice made it abundantly clear it was Vadim he had greeted, exclusively. Nelson glanced at Dan, a longer glance at Vadim, and the beginning of a smile, then, with an annoyed motion of his head, back to Dan. "New developments? Pray tell, Mr McFadyen. Did you take the advice on board?"

"Oh aye." Dan smiled incredibly politely, letting his hand slip lower for just a second, before too many in the room could detect the motion of his fingers that grabbed hold of Vadim's finely clad arse before moving back into position. "I have taken your advice into consideration. I have indeed, but it is up to Vadim to talk to you, is it not?" Dan nodded to Vadim, taking a step to the side and his hand slid off the suit fabric, the prayer beads flashing.

Nelson smiled, glad that Dan was making his excuses and made a gesture as if dismissing him and saying, no, I don't mind, not at all.

"I will be at the bar." Dan smiled, but it never hit his eyes. "I shall see you later." At Vadim, no second glance at Nelson, and he walked off to the bar at the other side of the room.

Nelson stepped closer, nearly within whispering range, that knowing smile on his features, knowing and sexy. Provocative. That thing in Vadim's body made him desperate to get fucked, desperate for release. Nelson's proximity was tantalising, he knew Nelson expected nothing but "yes please" and would fuck him right away, but the thing Dan had said helped him fend that thought off. My cock. Dying to fuck you. I'll be dying to fuck you.

"Did you think about my offer? I'm aware of your former attachments, but I do not think you bear any further obligations."

No, no longer obliged. No longer owing anything. Apart from his sanity. They'd come clean. "I did." Speaking wasn't easy. Vadim saw a question in Nelson's eyes, and it was not about his decision. It was probably why his breath was coming so hard. Both Nelson and Dan could rule, control his body. Right now, that collar was Dan's. Would always be Dan's. Shit, he'd come close enough to consider Nelson, but then the mountains. Don't forget the fucking mountains. And the fact the man was a freak. "I can't take the offer, I'm sorry. It was a … gracious offer, but we are planning to retire fairly soon, and I'm … not sure I can commit myself as much as the job demands. I can't start a restructuring and then leave because I'm getting too old and tired."

Nelson's lips twitched with anger, then curved into a dangerous smile. "Old and tired? Mr. Krasnorada, please." Like he'd been joking. Haha, very amusing; now, cut the crap. He moved even closer, so close Vadim could smell his breath. Spices, and the hot breath of a predator. "I'd enjoy showing you that you are neither old nor tired. What a misconception, but a delicious illusion to shatter." There were chains and leather in that voice, and Vadim's cock jumped. Shit. He got an inkling of what Nelson was into. Probably less playful than Dan, and a hell of a lot darker. Nelson wouldn't take a no. Nelson was set on his target, and whatever the target said was of no consequence. Fucking creep. "We could discuss this in my room."

"I'm actually quite hungry." What a fucking weak excuse. I'm horny as hell, but not quite enough to want anybody but Dan.

"Later, then?" It wasn't a question. It was an order. Only appearances kept Nelson civil.

"Did you understand anything I said?" asked Vadim, growing more desperate.
Nelson was close enough to sear his skin. "It's not your last word. I promise." He turned around and left, smiling. Vadim shivered. This was getting out of control. Seriously out of control.

Across the room, Dan was leaning against the bar, his eyes on the two men. One white. One black. One loved. One loathed. One his own and the other a loose cannon. Pretending to be interested in the canapés, Dan had been eating one after the other, barely recognising their taste. His eyes narrowed when he saw Nelson turn and leave, the facial expression on Vadim made him grow tense. He dropped his hand beside the plate and raised his head, looking straight across and right at Vadim. Brows raised. Eyes dark.

Vadim looked at Dan, and turned to join him at the bar. The expression in his eyes. He needed him, needed him badly. He moved close enough so his thigh touched Dan's. "Fucking creep. I'll tell you later." Half turned to look at Dan, his eyes spelt out need in the biggest letters possible.

Dan didn't move, just stood, felt Vadim's body close to his own, body heat and touch. "We're not done here." His lips slowly curved into a smile, the scar on his cheek twisting like a snake.

Vadim swallowed, nodded, had no idea how to survive the dinner with that thing in his body. Would try. Needed to try. No alternative.

"But I think I need to piss." Dan's hand that had lain beside the plate lifted, hovered, then brushed accidentally across Vadim's chest, touching one of the nipple clamps. "Don't you?"

Vadim nearly jumped, the sharp jolt of heat went straight to his groin. He nodded, breathless, couldn't breathe, needed, would suck Dan right here on the spot, anything, needed him worse than life. "Yeah. Too much … drink." Didn't believe for a moment that he'd pulled it off convincingly, hoped he'd get fucked on the toilet, please, couldn't wait.

Dan turned casually, glancing over his shoulder. "Of course, in this fine establishment, one should behave impeccably at all times." Walking towards the toilets, knowing Vadim was at his side. "Thus I will make sure I'll behave perfectly, to make you proud. Not the scruffy, out-of-whack ex-squaddie, aye?"

Vadim hoped, prayed - and he still had nothing to pray to - that Dan was joking.

Dan held the door open that led to the gold and porcelain gleaming toilets. Stepping into Vadim's way when he passed, to push his full body length into the other, which made Vadim groan, and bite back that sound when Dan whispered into his ear. "A squaddie would fuck you, bent over the loo, but a gentleman just watches you piss."

"I can't …" Vadim looked at Dan, spied himself in the mirror, flushed, so clearly needy, if one cared to read the signs. He'd do anything to get Dan to do that, be the fucking dirty squaddie, fuck him right here, pull that thing out and fuck him till he screamed. "Can't … piss. Dan. Just block the door. Do it." He reached for Dan's chest, placed his flat hands against the fine cloth, felt the pecs vibrate underneath. "Stalls. Over there…" Nodded the direction.

"No." Dan smiled, but it cost him a lot of self-control to say that word. He was hard and wanted nothing but the exact same thing that Vadim was begging for: to fuck him till he screamed. But the power was headier, and the control won. Control over himself and the other.

Vadim closed his eyes. Couldn't bear it. Didn't want to beg again.

"You won't come. Not yet. You'll come when I tell you." Dan leaned against the door, hoping no one tried to enter in the next few minutes. "You're mine." Both hands grabbed Vadim's arse, pulling him closer. Cock against cock, both trapped in finest cloth, and Vadim couldn't breathe, just couldn't, he pressed against him, felt Dan so hard, so hot, just as needy, only that Dan didn't have that thing inside that drove him insane. And just as he'd thought that, Dan's fingers were wandering lower, deeper, pressing into the cleft and applying pressure, which forced a sound out of Vadim, a needy groan, and he pushed against that hand, the dildo inside shifted, pressed against him now slightly differently, which was unbearable. Manipulating the power.

"You'll come when I let you, do you copy, Major?" Dan had no idea where the last bit came from, grinding against Vadim's groin. "Understood?"

Vadim's eyes opened again, pupils like those of a junkie on a bad cocktail, he hardly managed to breathe. Major. So long ago, yet it still got under his skin. "Yessir." Dan had no rank, no commission. Never had one, sergeant, no, staff sergeant. SAS didn't use such high ranks. Nevertheless, Dan was "Sir" now. Worse, higher, more powerful than any Colonel. "Request … permission to …suck you, Sir." What the fuck? Why? How? What? His body tensed, he didn't actually want even more humiliation.

Yes he did.

"Permission granted." Dan cursed himself, but pushed Vadim away and towards the stalls. Blowjob. From Vadim. Vadim begging for it. Holy fuck, he thought his mind was getting blown to bits, alongside his cock.

Vadim almost rushed to it, mind racing, the offer had been taken, fuck, he wasn't up to this, he wanted to come, didn't want Dan to come, it wasn't about him taking control, control was pure mockery now. What was going on?

Dan followed, slipped into the stall. The stalls were high enough, the doors and top panelling went up to the ceiling. No one would see if he had to climb onto the seat to get rid of a pair of legs that weren't supposed to be in there.

Vadim locked the door, flushed, burning, his balls so full and heavy, cock straining, he needed to come. But it was impossible. Into this suit? Here? On the fucking toilets? He faced Dan.

"Kneel." Dan opened his fly, all the time watching Vadim. Couldn't remember when last he'd been so desperate and so motherfucking horny.

Vadim stared, was about to kneel anyway, that was the way to do it, but Dan's tone of voice. Suggesting something much darker. Shit. No protest. Instead: "Yessir." Dan was as hard and ready as he felt: thick cock, the veins, so hard the foreskin was pulled back all the way, bared the head. Vadim knew it wouldn't take long, not the way Dan was tense. He knelt, eye to eye with Dan's cock, the thing he wanted, craved, inside, taking his sanity away. Opened his lips, tried to focus, then Dan's voice again, breathless, "suck me."

Vadim took the cock, took it in one swift motion, heat and fullness and throbbing strength. The taste, took it deeper, as if to defy himself, and how much he wanted to do this, suck Dan like a hooker on the toilet.

Dan didn't let out a sound, remained absolutely silent, but he lost all pretence of self-control when he stared down at the scene. Fuck. He needed to come, and it wasn't going to take more than a couple of minutes. No way he could deny himself.

Vadim opened his legs to steady himself, broad stance on his knees, and it never occurred to him to touch Dan - only with his mouth, his lips, his tongue. Eyes closed, but no focus coming, hoped he'd be allowed to come if he did well.

Dan tried to hold onto something, but Vadim's short-shorn hair was useless and the collar was hidden beneath the shirt, taking hold of the suit instead. "You'll wear a collar ... with metal rings." Breathless, staccato words, eyes as dark as they were narrowed, focussing on the sight of his cock pushing deeper and deeper into Vadim's mouth. "To hold onto when I fuck your throat," a twist of his hips and he forced his cock deeper, "my cunt."

Every word made Vadim tense more, he was trying to relax, but the mentioning of the collar tightened his throat. He wasn't in control. He couldn't relax. Instead, he tensed. The wrong thing. Completely the wrong thing. Felt the tightness of the suit, Dan's powerful hand, felt Dan breach and enter, force himself inside, against the constricting throat, and Vadim struggled to not panic. Closed his eyes, breath shut off as Dan got past, inside his throat, Vadim's hands formed fists, like a bloody beginner losing it, losing control, something in his throat, not a sound, like tension, maybe he did whimper, forced himself to suck, to comply, to accept, when he was sweating hard and nowhere near control or skill. Raw.

Dan was losing it, just seconds, not even minutes, no more than a few hard thrusts, fucking that throat as if pounding into Vadim's arse, and then he crushed Vadim's head and face against his groin as he came, groaning, biting his lip, shuddering, almost losing balance.

Vadim felt the pressure, the power, the strength, couldn't breathe, didn't quite panic, fought it, fought it like he was diving, struggled weakly, throat tightening uncontrollably as Dan's seed shot into it, ran straight down his throat. He could feel it like vodka, burning, hands found Dan's thighs, flat hands, fuck, and he wanted to come, could feel how close he was. Denied.

Too good feeling the tremors slowly subside while still lodged deep down the throat, but Dan moved and slid his cock out from between those lips, panting, shuddering, fighting every sound along the way.

Given breath, Vadim pulled back, panting, head resting against Dan's thigh.
"Oh fuck." Dan groaned out, unable to stall the trembling, not yet. "Stand. I can't allow you to come, if I did …" He was cut off when the door to the toilets suddenly opened, and the sound of voices was heard. He tensed for a heartbeat, then quickly stepped onto the closed toilet seat, crouching and sitting on his heels. Two pairs of legs wouldn't do. His lips twitched as he mouthed, "Silence."

Vadim reached for the stall partition, steadied himself as he stood, could still smell, taste, feel the heat in his mouth, the need that raged on. He looked at Dan, didn't have the force left in his body to ask for release again, hoped Dan would show mercy. Humour crept into the need - what atrocious timing. Those guys would have noticed if the timing had been just a few seconds off.

A second voice started talking. Nelson. The fucking bastard. Reaching out, Dan cradled Vadim's head, pulling it closer until his lips touched the other's ear, murmuring, "You're mine."

Vadim leaned his head against Dan's shoulder, didn't want to hear the voices, but of course he did. The thought of Nelson was unbearable, that sphinx-like expression, the man just oozed confidence and aggression, and why had he ever thought that attractive? He looked at Dan's eyes, fierce now, and nodded. "Aye," he murmured, tonelessly.

Dan moved his head a fraction, and his lips covered the Vadim's. Tongue snaking between Vadim's lips, keeping it deep, making a silent statement with want and need. How fucking romantic, making out to the sound of pissing.

Vadim's hands moved over Dan's chest, the expensive cloth whispering, and his eyes were closed, shutting out everything and everybody but Dan. Dan, always Dan, who was there, who was everywhere around him, life, soul, essence.

The two men finally finished, water was flushing and then the sound of steps and taps running at the wash basins. Dan slowed the kiss, drank in Vadim's reckless distress through the heat of his lips, tongue, teeth and mouth, and then stilled when the door moved. First one, Nelson's voice again, then the other.

Dan's knees were killing him, crouched too long in the position, but the pain was worth it. "Time to head back to dinner." He broke the kiss and murmured. His face was flushed when he stepped less-than gracefully off the toilet seat. "Time to keep up the pretence, time to show the arsehole who you belong to, and time to let my decrepit old body get ready to fuck you." Dan smirked, leaned closer, standing, hands brushing down over Vadim's chest, touching nipple clamps while smoothing fabric. "I can't let you come." Murmured, head moving in, lips whispering along Vadim's jaw. "Even if I wanted. If you came, the dildo inside you would kill you, and I'd rather have you gagging for my cock, coming without touching your own. I want to fuck you, bent over that sofa."

Vadim groaned, closed his eyes, was sure he couldn't move, wouldn't move, would relieve himself if given half a chance. He hadn't been so horny for something like twenty years. He nodded, dazed, couldn't move, felt his lips burning and swollen, his throat raw. "Make it … quick. Just … make it quick, yes?"

Dan nodded. "Aye. As soon as possible, but you just brought this middle aged body over the edge, it'll need some time." He brought a hand between their bodies, palm flat against the outline of Vadim's cock, which made the Russian shudder and press into his hand.

"Stop … teasing. Need …"

"I think you need some cold water." Dan murmured, then shook his head with a wink while unlocking the stall door.

Water? Nothing made sense. Vadim needed to come, that was all he needed. Everything else was nonsense.

"Sucking cock in the loos, my, my, what has happened to you, Officer." Dan's head was snaking forward to lick once more across Vadim's lips. He fucking loved and lusted and wanted that man so much right now, he wondered if he had it all written across his face I love you, Russkie. I fucking need you. Until I bloody well die.

"Major, in fact," said Vadim, and wanted to say take me, finish me off, stay here, close that fucking door. The humour helped with pulling himself together. He adjusted himself, was tempted to do more, but he'd win the game. Or at least not lose it.

Pushing the door open, Dan's voice rumbled as he whispered into Vadim's ear. "Seems you prefer me as the reckless ex-squaddie and not the gentleman, eh?" He brought his palms lightly against the nipple clamps. "Shame I have to play the part of the latter right now."

"Always did," said Vadim, pressing down on the moans. His whole body felt raw, tensed to the max, reaching to touch those hands on his chest, hold them there for a moment - which kept Dan from torturing him more - and kissed him again. No thoughts. No thinking, just Dan, his own body, dying to come. He wasn't hungry. No way he could sit down on that thing inside and pretend he was alright. Impossible that nobody would smell the frustrated lust by now.

A click and the sound of the door opening made Dan swiftly step back and half-turn towards the wash basin. The elderly man who stepped into the room looked somewhat taken aback, before quickly heading towards one of the stalls. Dan glanced at Vadim with a smirk, as he murmured under his breath, "you think the smell reminded him of anything, or you think it's been too long ago since he 'got it'?"

Vadim shook his head, desperate to try and deal with the frustration. "Couldn't … care less," he murmured, managing at least to head to the wash basin and wash his hands, looking in the mirror for a moment. That feverish look in his eyes. The flush. A slight sheen of sweat. It was so fucking obvious what was wrong with him.

Dan's face turned up in the mirror beside him, looking into his eyes through the reflection. Dark brown in pale blue, until Dan ran a caressing hand down Vadim's back and turned away, but not without murmuring, "I love you."

"Yeah. And I … you." Vadim tried a brave smile, but it was pained.

Holding the door open, Dan waited until Vadim had stepped through. Together, side by side, walking back into the main area, where the illustrious assembly of men and a few women was ready to be seated at the table. Of course, as expected, Nelson had managed to get a seat next to Vadim, but Dan had ensured that he was sitting opposite to Vadim, and when it was time to take their seats, his eyes were only on the man in front of him. A small feral grin flashed across his face the moment Vadim sat down - knowing what that did to him and his body.

Vadim was sweating, lips tight as he pressed them together, to keep any sound from escaping.

"Are you alright, Mr Krasnorada?" Nelson asked softly, leaning in, hand on Vadim's arm.

"Yeah." Vadim's words were strained. He didn't meet Nelson's eyes, kept his gaze lowered as he shifted closer to the table, wincing again.

The table was broad enough to make it difficult to reach across and touch, with silverware and flower decorations between them, but Dan leaned slightly forward, inclining his head. "Vadim felt somewhat chilly earlier, perhaps he is getting a cold?" His leg stretched out until his foot touched Vadim's.

"You look positively ill," said Nelson, frowning with concern. His hand continued to be on Vadim's arm, then he leaned in to whisper something to him, while Dan's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, because he knew that the collar was there and what it meant.

Vadim could smell him as Nelson breathed: "maybe you want to retire to … a room?" The hand slipped off his arm, and landed on his thigh again, as if by accident. Vadim stiffened, didn't want Nelson to guess what that 'illness' was, then heard him whisper: "My god, you're shaking."

Vadim nodded again, didn't trust his voice enough. Thankfully, the first course arrived and Nelson had to take his hands off - at least for the moment.

"I must admit," Dan made conversation even though he was perfectly aware that the last thing Nelson wanted was to talk to him, and a clearly annoyed side glance verified that suspicion. "I have been feeling somewhat under the weather as well." Smiling as if he hadn't noticed anything, he nodded towards Vadim, making sure the pressure of his foot on Vadim's remained steady. A reassuring presence. "It must have been all that time spent in the hardware store. Have you ever been to a hardware store?" Looking innocent-eyed at Nelson. "Do you know the different gauges of steel? The available thicknesses of chains?"

"Chains? What would you need chains for?"

"Oh, we have been redoing our house in New Zealand recently, and you'd be surprised to learn how many versatile uses chains can have." Smiling politely, Dan raised his glass of white wine before taking a mouthful, then concentrating once more on his first course.

Nelson looked at Vadim, who'd flushed deeper red. That was all the clues Nelson needed. He wasn't stupid, and he was into similar games. He grinned, predatorial, his attention on Vadim, then leaned in closer. "Cold blue steel on reddened heated skin," he whispered, which made Vadim suppress a groan.

Dan watched the exchange, every reaction, while carefully keeping track of time. It wouldn't do to make Vadim suffer for too long, but they did have to stay at least until the main course. "I see, you have been into DIY as well?" Addressing Nelson, with the same perfectly polite smile. The man was starting to give away some hints, and every little bit would help the Baroness to find the dirt that would break this bastard's neck.

"Yes, that, and training." Nelson gave him a bright smile. "Horses, dogs, men." He gave a laugh, as if the last one had been a joke.

Dan smiled back. There! They were getting somewhere, and wouldn't Maggie be interested in all those tidbits. "Men? Gosh, Colonel, what a remarkable pastime. I can see that you must be an extraordinary man. Wherever did you pick up such a hobby?" He chuckled, as if he had made an equally amusing joke, while the first course was taken off the table.

"The military is all about training men to override their natural responses." Nelson smiled. "Of course, ex-practitioners like you gentlemen would know more about that than I do."

"Indeed, but it does depend on the military, does it not?" Dan nodded towards Vadim. "And of course, the training can well extend above and beyond the military duty and service." Dan held his glass up for a refill.

"Some see training as a way of life." Nelson's eyes were all over Vadim, who didn't meet his gaze, and hardly managed to eat. Anything tasted like cardboard while there was a much stronger sensory input overriding everything.

Taking a sip, Dan's eyes remained steady on Nelson. "I assume a man of your calibre, Colonel, would be more inclined towards the training."

Nelson nodded, curtly. "Of course."

"Good luck hunting, in that case." Still smiling, Dan made a swift decision, and the next moment he exclaimed under his breath, "oh goodness, me." Appearing flustered, he leaned across to Vadim. "I am afraid I forgot something vital and I need your assistance."

Vadim nodded, lips pressed together. He was too far gone to even play that game, join the charade, when he got up and manoeuvred away from the table.

It was Dan, then, who met Nelson's angry glare straight on, apologising with the choicest words he could find. "I am sure, Colonel, that you will enjoy your hunt. Question is, who will win." He apologised left and right and headed out, following Vadim. They had barely stepped out of the room, when Dan fell in stride with Vadim, despite the limp, commenting under his breath, "holy fuck, any more of this bullshitting and my head explodes." Getting them towards the elevator.

"Your head?" Vadim managed to get out, quickly stepping into the elevator when the doors slid open.

Dan turned to grin ferally. "Don't think it is your head that is about to explode."

"Same … no, worse, here. Don't make me go back," Vadim whispered.

The doors slid shut behind them. "No, I won't." The moment the elevator moved, Dan pulled Vadim close, crushing the nipple clamps between their bodies, his lips sought Vadim's, his tongue demanded immediate entrance, and Vadim gave the groan of a dying man. Nelson hadn't lied, he was shaking, with denial.

The minute it took to reach their level, Dan put everything there was into that kiss, pressing his groin against Vadim's. His own urgency had been lessened, but the lust was there, simmering. He pulled away when the bell announced they'd reached their level, and took Vadim's hand, pulling him into the deserted corridor. He said nothing until they'd reached their suite and he'd opened the door with the key card, and let Vadim in. Shutting the door behind them, he leaned against it. "Undress."

Vadim fumbled with the clothes like a drunken man, his precision was gone, but he managed, no hesitation, no pause, pulling the fine tailored clothes off like they were enemies clinging to his body, and soon stood there, naked, flushed, desperately aroused.

Dan said nothing for a long time, just watching him, and taking in the sight. Perfection, no matter how many men he'd conquer, no one would be like Vadim. He'd always known that. "Come here."

Vadim walked towards him, eyes dark with need and want. He opened his lips to say something, but didn't. Didn't have any words really for a moment like this.

Dan smiled, looking into the pale eyes, darker than usual, now wild with need. "You're mine." Fingertips caressing the black leather of the collar where it contrasted with the skin. "Turn. Then bend over."

Vadim turned, bent over, glanced towards the couch, then looked behind himself at Dan, whose hand reached out for the dildo, the other hand steadying on the hip. Slowly and carefully twisting, then pulling out almost all the way before teasingly pushing it back in, which made Vadim groan and jerk back. "Do you want my cock?"

"Yes. Please." Vadim swallowed dryly. "Have … wanted nothing else all day."

"Then what are you going to do to earn it?" The dildo poised, remaining inside for another moment.

Vadim groaned. "Whatever you want. Anything. Whatever. Please, Dan."

"Do you know what it means that you've accepted the collar?"

Vadim reached up as if to pull at it. "Means … I'm yours," he whispered. "Please, Dan."

The dildo finally moved, and Dan pulled it out, discarding it to the side. "You are mine, but it means even more than that." Pulling Vadim back up to stand, Dan crushed him close, bare back pressed against the expensive suit, as his fingers lightly moved the clamps and touched the long-tortured nipples. "It means that if I told you not to touch your cock and not to come, you wouldn't. It means if I told you to go get yourself fucked by the next man who comes along, while I watch, then you would. And it means that if I tied you up and left you there, fucking your arse and throat whenever I pleased, for days in a row, then ... I would."

Vadim shuddered, eyes closed. Any stranger. Control over his orgasm, his body. Tied up, left. Fucked and used. He groaned at that, his cock twitched. "Yes." Licking his lips. "Sir."

Dan shivered, the 'Sir' always did that, as long as it came from Vadim. And that was what he wanted, beginning to understand where those 'games' had led to, and that some of them, like this now, and like the letter carved into flesh and the collar around Vadim's throat, were far more than games. As real and as intense as anything Vadim did with Hooch. "I want you bent over the couch, legs spread, arms wide." Whispered into Vadim's ear. "Understood?"

"Yessir." Vadim headed to the couch, bent over it, shuddering hard, which made his muscles ripple. He spread his arms, taking hold of the back rest, then forced himself to step back, and bend in almost a 90 degree angle.

"I won't be done with you after this." Dan's low voice had turned husky, taking in the sight and the knowledge that Vadim really and truly was his - as long as he wore the collar. Just a piece of leather? No, as much as a bullet and a string of lapis lazuli beads, and more beyond. Stepping close, he reached for the lube he'd left on the couch, squeezing a generous amount into his hand and warming it, before working three fingers without preliminaries into Vadim's arse. Muscle loosened and ready from the dildo. "As long as you wear the collar you are mine. In every possible sense of the word. You understand?"

Vadim was shaking, his legs weak, and it took him too much focus to remain standing when the fingers were pushed in. "Yessir. I'm yours." His knuckles paled from the force he used to hold onto the couch.

Unseen from Vadim, Dan's lips parted, then moved into a smile, while pulling down his zipper and opening the button, pushing down the briefs. He stroked his cock a few times to full hardness. Pulling the fingers out, he swiftly coated is cock, tip touching the ring of muscle. Just staying there, waiting.

Vadim groaned, looked over his shoulder, when Dan hesitated, didn't do what he'd anticipated, not as expected, then realized what it was. "Sir, Please … would you fuck me? Use me, Sir."

It was Dan's turn then, to shudder and pull in a sharp, hissing breath. His cock jumped and his voice was breathless. "Aye, I will fuck you." Pushing forward, he didn't need brute force, just unyielding strength, to push all the way in, until his groin touched Vadim's muscular buttocks, in one, long stroke. Letting out a groan when he was deeply embedded.

Vadim's response was beyond his control, his body tightening, tensing with force, as the stimulation very nearly tipped him over the edge, but he didn't quite get there.

Pulling out almost completely, Dan thrust back in, and the force of his body made the nipple clamps move and pull harshly on the oversensitive flesh. Pushing in hard enough to feel his balls slap against the tensed buttocks. Going from naught to full-out, Dan took a strong grip of Vadim's hips and started to fuck him with all his need, his stamina increased by having come before. Vadim clenched around him, suppressing groans, like his body was so tense that he could hardly breathe, and it shook him head to toe, when the onslaught finally did get him there, got him over the edge, and he came, knees very nearly buckling under his weight and the immense, blinding relief and near-anguish of climax.

Dan was almost there when Vadim's climax took him along, muscles clenching, the body under his hands shuddering without any control, and he almost came, too, but he pulled out, the effort almost painful. Standing, with legs braced, cock jutting hard and weeping. "Kneel and suck me dry." Forcing the words out when all he wanted was to groan with need.

It was easy going down on his knees. Vadim was dizzy, but followed the order, glad he could kneel because he didn't trust his knees to support him. Glad, at the same time, he'd been clean, so the only taste was that of lube and Dan, and Vadim could feel how close Dan was, forcing himself to take the cock deep, almost in one stride, into his throat, his body protesting as he was still panting and wanted the oxygen, which was now cut off. Vadim crossed his wrists behind his back, position upright, throat tight around Dan, then moving a bit, telling Dan without words he was ready for anything, including getting his throat fucked with all the fierceness Dan needed. They both needed.

And Dan did. Reasserting himself and each other, as he thrust deep and without mercy. Both hands on Vadim's head, holding him in a vice grip, driving into him a few times, before he came, too soon, deeply embedded down his throat, while Vadim was once more fighting the struggle to breathe and the gagging reflex, forcing himself to just take it.

Dan pulled out, still panting, looking down at Vadim with a strange smile. Tender, open, while inside he felt scraped raw in a painfully good way, a way that had him almost burst with emotion, need, gratitude, and that goddamned love, that had just found another manifestation. "You're mine," he murmured hoarsely, as he stroked Vadim's temple and face.

"Yours," Vadim croaked and cleared his throat, feeling weak and still so very strong on his knees. Something he'd wanted, and now that it had been granted. It seemed like a great idea, something to relish, and he understood more about Hooch, now. The gratification.

"You should take a bath." Holding his hand out, Dan pulled Vadim up, then gently took hold of the nipple clamps. "Brace yourself ..." Waiting for Vadim to take a breath, he then swiftly removed both simultaneously, knowing the pain of blood flooding back into the sensitive flesh would hurt like a motherfucker, and Vadim gave a groan, feeling the pain shoot up towards his head and his guts, and he grimaced. "Fuck."

"Aye ..." Dan held and touched, kissing Vadim, until he calmed, then placed his fingers on the collar. "But this stays." Leaning in to kiss, lowering his head to carefully lave the raw and swollen nipples, which made Vadim inhale sharply. Dan then took him to the bathroom, where he ran a hot bath. The steam soothing, scents that were as light as his touches, and he shed his own clothes, joining Vadim in the large tub.

They stayed long enough to relax tensed muscles, and to feel the heat seep into their bodies, while Dan never ceased to kiss and touch, and to take care in the most tender way. Inside, he was still simultaneously raw and filled, and all those emotions were a tumble in his mind. Vadim, his. He'd known, but this, this ... this was different. This was mind-blowing, and he didn't know where this would lead them.

Vadim stretched out, one hand on Dan's thigh, resting, replaying the need in his mind, the details, of how Dan had sounded, how Dan had assumed control. It was what he'd wanted. All of it. More.

Rubbing Vadim dry, then himself, Dan was meticulous with the skin beneath the collar, then went back to the bedroom, where he told Vadim to lie down, and he lightly bound his wrists in front of him, keeping the bondage over night. A symbol, rather than discomfort, Vadim understood, and it seemed like yet another tenderness, about care, just like the spooning. Holding Vadim close, one hand on the leather cuffs that circled Vadim's strong wrists, they fell asleep.

* * *

Dan didn't take the collar off Vadim the next morning. It wasn't time yet to let go once more, holding onto the image for a while longer, and holding onto what it really meant; to have collared Vadim and that while he was wearing the symbol of leather and steel, he was truly his. And in return, Dan was entirely Vadim's.

He didn't put any of the toys on him, though, except for holding his wrists, looking down at the narrow cuffs of black leather, separated now, with discreet D-rings that folded flat against the cuffs, and he smiled. The decision was quick, because he had never seen anything so arousing as Vadim - with his collar, his cuffs and his scars. And Vadim didn't feel shame wearing those, accepting the collar like Hooch had accepted, and it was a strange comfort to wear this. Not his decision, he understood that, and at the same time, he could always fight it, always stop the game that wasn't.

All these symbols were once more hidden beneath the fine suit, the crisp shirt, the cufflinked sleeves and the exclusive tie. They had to face Nelson, and it was obvious that the Colonel was not willing to let go, fighting for his prize with soft words and an intriguing smile, hiding the madness of possessiveness beneath. But Vadim was Dan's, and he was aware of this with every second that he could feel the collar around his throat and every moment that Dan was beside him, or just in the same room, somewhere close. Always, while he was confronted with the Colonel's obsession that grew ever more dangerous the more Vadim tried to extract himself out of the web. Nelson was simply not accepting a 'no', the man was so deluded that whatever Vadim said or did looked like encouragement to him. It was clear the man was not going to give up, and they needed to take counter measures. Trusting in the Baroness.

When they boarded the plane to London Heathrow, Vadim wore an open leisure shirt, no tie, and the collar and cuffs were once more safely stashed away with the other toys in Dan's luggage. The symbols might have been taken off, but the smile and the way Dan held his hand when he figured no one was watching, were proof of a new closeness.

The following work of fiction contains graphic homosexual interaction, violence and non-consensual sex. With this work of fiction the authors do not condone in any way any form of intolerance and injustice, e.g. racism, sexual harassment, incitement of hatred, religious hatred nor persecution, xenophobia and misogyny. Neither do the authors through this work of fiction promote violence nor make light of such grave matters as genocide, any taking of human life, murder, execution, rape, torture, persecution of sexual orientation.

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All characters are fictional. Any similarities with living or deceased people are coincidental. In case of real life events, creative license has been applied. Special Forces is intellectual property of Marquesate and Vashtan. Copyright © 2006-2009. All rights reserved.