Fic: Catch and Release (part 1 of 2)
Title: Catch and release
Rating: NC17
Warnings: D/s, ropes, some pain, but nothing non-con or bloody
Pairing: Colby/Amita
Word count: 11 500 (in total)
Spoilers: Up to season 4, but basically a PWP
Notes: This is my first Numb3ers fiction and my first het fiction for donkey's years. It's been knocking around in my head for an age and is possibly the beginning of a series where Charlie and possibly Ian get in on the act. I hope you like it.
It's been betaed by annieb1955 who's done a sterling job of whipping this into shape and all the remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.
Summary: Colby gets a huge surprise when he makes his first trip to a fetish club.
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Colby froze. He couldn't believe it. After everything he'd been through, after what he'd survived, what he'd done, he was going to lose it all because he was a fucking pervert. Jesus Christ. Fuck! God, this was a disaster. He was shaking, actually shaking. Never...God...Jesus...
He took a breath in.
He'd been so careful, even once he'd gotten out of the army, because if there had even been a hint of scandal his cover would have been blown. Well, maybe not blown but he'd have been out of the FBI so fast his feet wouldn't have touched the ground and that would have ruined everything.
The irony wasn't lost on him. After everything, all the trauma of the past few months, here was the thing that was going to destroy the fragile trust he'd rebuilt with his friends. The looks on his friends’ faces when they'd arrested him, all the disgust and disappointment, the hurt and betrayal, was the thing that still woke him in the night. It was stupid really, given what he'd been through, but somehow the loss of his team had been the one thing that had nearly broken him.
And now he was going to see those looks on the faces of his friends again, all because he needed things. Dirty, disgusting things that normal people didn't need or want. Things that would break his momma's heart if she ever found out.
He took a step back, finally making his legs work enough to get him away, and saw something like panic in the eyes of the woman who could destroy him. She took a step and then caught herself. Maybe he was going to get out of this. Maybe she was a scared as he was. He turned and fled, just making it outside the club before the fear got the better of him and he vomited.
Jesus!
Amita, nice quiet Amita, Charlie's girlfriend Amita, was a dominatrix. And she knew, she'd looked at him, right at him, into the places where he hid what was wrong with him, and she saw what he was.
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“Colby, what is with you today?” David snapped, finally getting frustrated with his partner's weird mood.
Colby's head snapped up, panic in his eyes for just a fraction of a second before he composed his features, and looked back down at the file he'd not been reading for the past hour.
“Nothing,” Colby grunted, the tension in his shoulders belying the statement.
“Right,” David drawled. “Because that page is real interesting.”
Colby looked down at the paper as though he was seeing it for the first time and sighed. David wasn't sure where his partner's head was but it certainly wasn't in the game. Not that he could blame him. The case wasn't exactly urgent, which was a good thing because they had nothing to go on. Don was off, God knows where, following what was probably another wild goose chase, Megan was in San Diego interviewing the witnesses again and he and Colby were re-reading all the documents in the files.
“It's nothing, really” Colby said, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself as much as David. “Just not feeling too well. Must be something I ate.”
“Look, go home,” David suggested, his mood softening at the weariness in his partner's words. “I'll cover for you. I'll call you if something comes up.”
“Okay,” Colby agreed, blowing out at breath after a few moments. “Thanks, man.”
He stood up, grabbing his jacket and headed for the elevators. David sighed. He hoped the other man's odd behavior was just down to a bad burrito and not something else. Not that he could blame the guy. What Colby had been through was enough to give anyone issues. He'd woken up a few nights himself, shaking with fear and frustration because in his dreams they hadn't gotten to the boat quickly enough, or that bastard Lancer had pushed more of the drugs into his friend's body.
Or worse still, that none of them had believed Colby when he'd called Charlie and he'd died out there on his own, knowing his team weren't coming. He just hoped that the counseling he knew Colby was getting was helping him more than his own was.
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Amita had just signed off from her session of Primacy when she heard the knock at her door. She headed down the hall wondering who was calling on her at this time of night. Charlie wouldn't have come home early, would he? And Larry certainly wouldn't come over without...well, he wouldn't come over. She peered through the peep hole and was surprised to see Colby waiting on the other side.
She opened the door but stood in the gap it created, not sure yet where this conversation was going to go. Colby didn't say anything though. He just stood there staring at her, his whole body radiating something she'd never seen from him before. Terror.
He hadn't slept in days, that much was obvious from the bruised looking skin under his blood-shot eyes and he looked like he might turn tail and run at any moment. She decided that she needed to get him inside or she was pretty sure he'd disappear before she could fix this mess between them. She opened the door wider, gesturing him inside with the sweep of her arm. He followed her into the living room and stood in front of her, his body falling into a passable parade rest.
“Colby...” she started gently, as she sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her.
“Amita, look,” he interrupted, finally finding his voice. “I want...no, I need to know when you're going to tell Don. It's killing me, the waiting, and I'm too much of a coward to just resign.”
Amita blinked stupidly at him. How could he think that she was going to do that? Or that Don would make him leave, even if she were that much of a bitch. She couldn't say anything, her voice lost in surprise, so she just stared up at him. He wasn't looking at her though, his eyes were fixed somewhere on the wall over her head, and the muscles of his jaw were clenched so tight she thought his teeth must be hurting.
“I know that what I do, have done, is wrong-”
“Colby,” it was Amita's turn to interrupt this time, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “Stop. Just stop for a minute and think. And please, sit down.”
“I'd prefer to stand,” he replied, his voice tight and scared.
“I said, sit down,” she repeated, her voice involuntarily taking on the tone she used when she played at the club. Something like relief passed across his face as he sat down on the sofa, perching on the edge just about as far from her as he could get. Okay, baby steps.
“Colby,” she said, her voice soothing now. “Think about what you're saying. Why would I want to tell anyone I saw you in the club?”
“Because I'm an FBI agent,” he answered, his voice incredulous. “Because I wasn't there to watch, Amita. I was there to find someone who'd hurt me, humiliate me...”
“Someone like me?” she asked softly, beginning to realize just how big the problem was.
“No!” Colby almost shouted, obviously horrified by the idea that she should think herself anything like him. “No. No. Someone who-”
“Yes,” Amita insisted, determined to make him see she was exactly like he was. “Someone just like me, who could look at you and know what you needed. Who could know just where to touch you and just how much pain you can take before you break. Someone who's not afraid of what they are and who certainly doesn't find what you want anything to be ashamed of.”
“Amita, you don't understand,” Colby countered, not willing to accept what she was saying but beginning to relax just a little.
“I think I do,” she said, reaching out her hand to him, offering him the chance to pull away if he didn't want her touch. “I think that you're in a pretty raw emotional state right now, despite the fact that they've let you back to work. I think that you've not slept much since you left the club and you've convinced yourself that I'm a complete bitch.”
“I...maybe,” Colby admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I guess you can't tell anyone without Charlie finding out.”
“That's not why I wouldn't tell anyone about you,” she said, laughing, relieved that he was finally beginning to talk, even if his assumptions were incorrect. “Besides, Charlie already knows.”
Colby blinked at her, obviously unable to comprehend fully what she'd just said. She wanted to pull the confused man into her arms because this whole conversation may be about her being a dominatrix but she was also his friend. Someone had really done a number on him and screwed him up so badly he had very nearly broken. She thought that if she ever found out who it was she might not be responsible for her actions.
“Colby,” Amita said, running her hand up and down his arm. “I wouldn't tell anyone because what you or I do in private is no one's business but ours. More importantly there's nothing to be ashamed of, even if it's wise to be discreet.”
“Charlie knows?” he asked, after a few moments. “But at the club-”
“His tastes don't run in the same direction as mine.”
“He doesn't mind that you...that you're...”
“A dominatrix? A sadist?” she asked, her eyebrow raised in amusement. “No, he doesn't mind. As long as he doesn't have to be the one I use to satisfy my needs.”
“He knows you go to the club?” he asked, finally looking like he was more interested than terrified. “He knows that there are...other people?”
“He does,” Amita agreed, a smile creeping onto her face at the thought of the awesomeness that was Charlie Eppes. “I don't have sex with them, at least not penetrative sex, and I always come home to him.”
A blush crept across Colby's face at her blunt terms and Amita couldn't help but find him adorable, she always had. He was, despite the things he had done and seen, even despite what he clearly sometimes enjoyed on the weekend, wonderfully innocent. She slipped closer to him, thinking now was the time to make the suggestion she'd been contemplating since he'd run out of the club three days ago.
“I've not seen you at the club before,” she said, needing to know a few facts before she made her offer. “How often do you like to play?”
“You make it sound like a game,” Colby answered, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “I try not to, but sometimes I just...I need...That was the first time I'd been there.”
“It is a game to some people,” Amita replied, taking the smile out of her voice when she caught Colby's horrified look. “Don't you enjoy it?”
He didn't say anything, just hung his head and stared at his hands. Amita decided then and there she was going to make it her mission to find out who it was who'd made him so guilt-ridden and she was going to make their life a living hell. She was going to enlist Charlie and between them they would take away everything this person held dear. She placed her hand between Colby's shoulder blades, feeling him tense and then give way under the gentle pressure.
“It's okay. You don't have to talk about it. Just listen to me. Can you do that?”
Colby nodded, still not looking up. She rubbed her hand up and down his back, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and find just the right words. One day he might gladly accept what she was about to offer for his own sake but right now he needed another reason to accept.
“I have a favor to ask,” she began, feeling Colby tense under hand. “Nothing bad. Just, just something that I think would suit us both.”
“I'd rather you just told Don.”
“What?”
“Just get it over with,” he said, as though it explained everything and she suddenly realized what he meant.
“Fuck, Colby,” she said letting the hurt color her speech. “When did I ever do anything that would make you think I would blackmail you?”
“But you said...” he started, stopping as his head finally came up when he processed the tone of her voice. “I don't understand what you want.”
“What I want is to not go to the club any more,” she said, carrying on at his confused look. “I want to have someone, a friend I hope, whom I can satisfy my needs with. Someone who I know Charlie trusts and who respects the boundaries of our relationship.”
“Are you asking if I'll...if I can...”
“I would very much like to do a scene with you, see if we can't be good for each other,” she explained, making the offer sound like it was so much smaller than it really was. “I don't want an answer now. I want you to get some rest and then we'll talk about it later.”
“I can't-”
“I said I didn't want an answer now,” she stopped him, sliding her hand up to the back of his neck and just letting it rest there. “I want you to think about it when you're not loopy with lack of sleep. And if the answer is still no, you have to know I won't do anything to hurt you.”
Colby didn't say anything for a few minutes, just sat and stared at the picture on the wall. Amita knew he wasn't really looking at it. In fact she was pretty sure he wasn't even in the room any more. She kept her hand on the back of his neck, letting the gentle pressure reassure him and remind him to come back eventually.
“Okay,” he sighed, eventually.
“Okay, you'll think about it?” she inquired.
“Okay, I'll do it.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised by his agreement. “I think I'll still check with you after you've slept some though.”
“Yeah, that'd be good,” he agreed vaguely, before an enormous yawn overtook him.
Amita realized the adrenaline and worry he'd been running on had gone and his body was finally shutting down. Maybe the fear hadn't done more than just let up a little, but it was enough for the exhaustion to finally win out. There was no way he was going to make it back across town before he was dead to the world.
“Come on,” she said, standing up. “You need to go to bed.”
“What? You said you wanted to wait.”
“And I do. I meant I'm putting you to bed in my guest room before you keel over.”
“'m 'kay,” he slurred through another yawn.
“No, you're not and Don'll kill me if I let you drive like this.”
She held out a hand to him and he met her eyes, looking for something she hoped he found, before he took it. Silently she led him into the small bedroom and pulled down the covers on the bed. He stood next to it looking tired and lost for a few moments before she took pity on him.
“Sit,” she said, pushing him down on to the bed and kneeling in front of him. “Shoes off.”
He hummed in agreement but didn't do anything to help as Amita undid his laces and slipped off his boots. She pulled his socks off and debated reaching up to undo his pants but stopped herself. He probably wouldn't fight her now but he might not be happy when he was a little bit more with it.
“There,” she said, standing up. “Just lie down and get some sleep.”
“Thanks Amita,” he said, his voice rough and tired. He looked up at her, eyes big and hopeful like she was the answer to all his problems and she couldn't help but stroke her hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch just a little as she brushed the strands back from his face, noticing they probably needed a trim. She smiled at him before leaning down and kissing him softly on the forehead. When she straightened up his eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed.
“Come on,” she encouraged quietly, guiding him back onto the bed. “Get some sleep.”
Colby, already mostly unconscious, lifted his legs up and stretched out on his side, wrapping his arms round his chest. Amita noticed the phone still attached to his belt and unclipped it, placing it on the night stand next to the bed. She patted the pockets of his jeans and carefully fished in them to pull out his keys and wallet. He didn't even stir. She grinned to herself, amazed at the trust he was already showing her, before she pulled the covers over him, tucking them round his shoulders.
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Colby smiled. He'd found the connection between Bates and Gough and was the office's golden boy, while David was still plowing through his stack of files. More importantly he'd slept for nine hours straight, no nightmares, no cold sweats, no nothing, until Amita had woken him at six in the morning so he could go home and change in time for work.
She was amazing. He'd always thought she was pretty damn cool, who wouldn't, but now he was willing to probably raise her to the level of goddess. She hadn't treated him like a crazy person this morning, which frankly he would have done if the situation was reversed, and she'd reminded him that she still wanted him to think about her proposal. He knew he'd blushed like a teenager as she ushered him out with a smile and a cup of coffee.
He couldn't believe she was so open about her...well, her kinks, and that Charlie knew about them. Colby struggled to get his head round the idea that they had a relationship that allowed Amita to go out to The Torture Garden on her own and that Charlie wasn't driven insane with jealousy. He wasn't sure he could share someone he loved with other people, no matter how fleeting the connection they had.
And that was his big problem. Could he really help a friend's girlfriend cheat on him? Charlie was a nice guy, a really nice guy, and even though Amita said he knew, it still felt wrong. He wasn't that sort of guy, he never had been, and he wasn't about to start now. Especially because if he screwed up with Charlie he knew he'd probably be out of the bureau, let alone the LA office. He didn't have any illusions about where Don's loyalties lay, no matter how much he professed to count his team as family.
But he also knew himself. There was no way he'd be able to ignore his urges, not without going insane, because he'd tried that. He could pay, like he had done when he was playing at being a spy, but there was a part of him, just a tiny one, that wanted to stop hiding who he was. He thought that it was possible that this piece of him was just that bit bigger today than it had been before he'd spoken to Amita.
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Amita hadn't expected to see Colby so soon. She'd always thought he was the type of guy who took his time, thought through all his options, before making a decision. At least the big ones about his personal life. Looking at him now, chewing his lip as he sat across from her at the little table in her kitchen, she guessed she was wrong. She also guessed she was going to have to do most of the talking.
“I'm not sure if I can do this,” Colby said, surprising Amita again. “I just...it's Charlie.”
“I figured it would be,” she answered, hoping that the what she'd done wouldn't freak Colby out. “So, I asked him if he minded.”
“You what?”
“I asked him if he was okay with us doing a scene together,” she explained, even though she knew he'd heard her perfectly well.
“But what if he tells Don, what if-”
“Colby,” she snapped, and he stopped instantly, which was promising. “We've been through this.”
“I know but...” he paused and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, before blowing it out sharply. “Every time he looks at me he's going to be thinking about what we do together and how I'm getting part of you that he doesn't get.”
Yet again Amita realized she had underestimated Colby. She'd assumed he'd be more like Don, who wasn't really that much different from any other guy she'd ever known, and that he'd have the emotional intelligence of a house brick. He'd always exuded the aura of being a man's man before the past few days, of being nothing more than a brighter than average jock who happened to work at the FBI.
“It's a part of me that he doesn't want,” she said softly, let a little bit of the disappointment at not being able to share it with Charlie seep into her voice. “One that he's more than happy for you to have.”
“It's just weirding me out a little,” Colby admitted, looking down at his hands. “I mean, he's going to be looking at me whenever we work together and wondering what you and I do together.”
Colby looked up from his hands, his face earnest and worried but Amita could see something else, something much more important. He wanted Charlie to be wondering, in fact she was pretty sure he wanted her lover to know exactly what they'd been doing together. God, it was going to be fun to play with him. She thanked her lucky stars that Charlie was as open as he was, even if he didn't want to be the object of her attentions.
“There's a solution to that problem.”
“Not do this?” Colby suggested, a wry smile on his face.
“I can tell Charlie exactly what I do to you,” she replied, raising her eyebrow in challenge to Colby's incredulous look. “I'll tell him how I'm going to put a collar round your neck and strap your hands behind your back, how I'm going to put a plug in your ass and then take a paddle to it. And Charlie'll know how pretty you look with your butt cheeks nicely pinked, begging for me to fuck you like the slut you are. You'll like that, won't you?”
Colby stared at her, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in harsh little pants. When he didn't answer she wondered if she'd gone too far and pushed him away. Maybe she'd read him wrong, maybe he didn't want someone else to know what he was at all, and he just wanted someone to beat him until the endorphins kicked in.
She jumped when he moved, the legs of the chair scraping on the floor as he pushed it back to stand up. He stood for a moment, as though he was fighting some internal battle, before dropping to his knees in front of her. His head was bowed, his hands behind his back, and Amita couldn't resist stroking her hand through his hair, bringing it to rest on the back of his neck.
“Good boy.”
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Colby flicked the channel on his TV and wished he wasn't so nervous. He'd taken a super long shower, cleaning outside, and in, better than he ever had before, shaved really, really carefully and taken his time to choose clothes that fitted Amita's request. And still he had time to spare. He felt like some kid on prom day, all dressed up and ready to go well before he needed to be, his excitement making him restless and twitchy.
Maybe he should have another glass of water. He needed to be hydrated, that was important. But on the other hand he didn't want to have to ask to stop the scene so he could use the bathroom. He knew Amita would let him stop, they'd already talked around some of the rules for their scene the night before, just like he knew she wasn't going to need him to have a full bladder. They'd happily agreed on a distaste for golden showers.
He flicked past ESPN, not able to concentrate on what was on the screen. His mind was supplying him with images of all the things that might happen later in the evening and nothing the TV had to offer could compete. They'd just talked last night, even though once he'd made up his mind and gone to his knees in front of her he'd wanted her to take him in hand and do all the things she threatened to do to him. He was itching to feel her hands on him.
She'd explained they weren't going to play at her apartment because the walls were like paper and she was going to make him scream. He'd shivered at her words and she'd scratched her nails gently across his scalp as a reward, making him twitch with the need to bury his head in her lap and just purr.
After an hour of questions about what he would and wouldn't do, his knees were sore and he was trembling from the sensory overload of her touch. The casual proprietariness of her fingers in his hair, like she was stroking a favorite pet, pushed all his buttons and he was as hard as a rock when she'd told him to go home. He was almost disappointed, until she'd told him he wasn't allowed to touch himself, except to wash and use the bathroom, and she'd deal with him the next evening.
So here he was, sitting on his sofa, twitchy with anticipation and frustration waiting for Amita to come and collect him. He just had to pass the fifteen minutes until she arrived and then it'd all be okay.
He flicked the channel again.
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Amita glanced at Colby as she took the corner. His hand was still tapping out the same rhythm on his thigh it had been since they'd left his apartment. It was the only visible sign of the nerves she knew he must be feeling. Her own stomach was churning with all the ways this could go wrong. Even though they'd discussed everything yesterday she could still mess it up spectacularly and make Colby's neuroses about his sexuality even worse.
She'd talked to Charlie about how screwed up he was because he'd guessed there was something eating at her and he wouldn't let it go. She'd felt guilty telling him because despite her promise to tell Charlie all about their encounters, her suspicions about Colby's past weren't part of the deal.
Charlie of course, because he was so much better at dealing with her feelings than he was his own, calmed her down and made her see that there probably wasn't a single person who has screwed up the man beside her. Just like the old saying about it taking a village to raise a child, it seemed to take a small town to screw one up. She just hoped she didn't make it worse.
Talking about limits and agreeing something was acceptable was totally different from experiencing it. She'd known people who could be pushed and pushed and suddenly something they'd done a hundred times would freak them out. She just hoped that all the crap he'd seen didn't mean he was going to freak out over some of the things she wanted to do to him.
She reached out and put her hand over his, trapping his tapping fingers against his thigh. He jumped a little before stilling himself and turning his head to look at her. After a moment he huffed out a nervous little laugh and Amita smiled at him.
“So, how was your day?” he asked, his voice full of irony.
Amita laughed, squeezing Colby's hand just a little tighter.
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When they'd started to head up into the hills, past Glendale, Colby had thought Amita must have taken a wrong turn. When they'd finally been buzzed through the gates of one of mansions that clustered along Saint Katherine Drive he'd been convinced that it was all some giant mistake. Once inside the impressive front doors though, that had all changed.
There were a couple of pierced and tattooed receptionists, although he guessed he wasn't supposed to call them that, who had smiled at Amita and looked him up and down like he was a piece of meat. One of them, and he was sticking his neck out and saying it was male, developed a predatory gleam in his eye that had made Colby step a little closer to Amita. The other one just looked bored.
He'd been only dimly aware of Amita handing over her credit card, the panic rising in this throat making it hard to breathe. He wondered if he should offer to pay but he suspected that being a gentleman right now was probably a mistake.
The predatory help had shown them to a room that made Colby's eyes pop and didn't do a thing to make his panic lessen any. It was just like all the dungeons in the porn movies that he secretly indulged in. There were hooks and bars all over the walls and ceiling and Colby had gone from panicked to hard in about a second, wondering which of them Amita was going to use that night. He'd still been terrified about what they were going to do, and what it would mean for the future, but he was more turned on than he had been in years. The assistant had been far too eager to help Amita set up the scene and she'd been forced to use her scary teacher voice to make him leave.
“Lets get you relaxed before I go and change,” Amita had said once the kid had gone, and it was only then that he realized that she wasn't going to do the scene in the clothes she had on. She opened the large bag she'd carried in from the car and pulled out a length of rope, grinning at him as she said “Take off your t-shirt.”
After a moment's hesitation where he'd briefly considered calling it all off, he'd obeyed. He rolled it up and looked for somewhere to put it before tossing it down near the bag. When he straightened and met Amita's eyes he had to suck in a breath at the look on her face.
He knew he was attractive enough to catch appreciative glances from some folks, he'd played on it from time to time, and he had even believed a couple of people when they'd told him he was handsome. But Amita was looking at him like he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen, like she had just won the lottery.
“Amita...” he'd started.
“I think you should be quiet and let me work,” she'd suggested, stepping towards him, the wolfish gleam in her eye putting the receptionist's to shame.
“Okay,” Colby had agreed, his voice barely above a whisper as he'd tried not to blush under her scrutiny.
“Good boy.”
She ran her fingers down the center of his bare chest and over his stomach, scraping her nails just under the waist band of his jeans. His breath had hitched as he shivered into her touch, both wanting and dreading what was going to happen. He knew that if Amita was as competent at causing him the pain he craved as she was at everything else she did, he was going to be in agony for the next couple of hours.
She'd smiled her dazzling smile at him, probably guessing what he was thinking, before she'd ordered him to hold his hands out in front of him. She'd wound a length of rope around each wrist, wrapping and knotting it to create a cuff with trailing ropes on each arm. She'd moved her hands with a deft sureness that spoke of both skill and practice, dragging the ropes against his skin so he felt every coil as it formed, every loop that was going to hold him in place as she used him. His cock was painfully hard in his jeans by the time she'd finished and she grinned at him again before running one over her nails along the obvious bulge, making him twitch and groan.
“We're going to start with something simple,” she'd said, pressing him backwards so he was under the ring in the center of the ceiling of the room. “And if you're a very good boy I might take you down and fuck you.”
Colby had held his hands above his head, because that's what a good boy did to please his mistress.
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Amita slipped her foot into her shoe, took a couple of deep breaths, and stepped out from behind the screen she'd been changing behind. Colby's eyes were on her immediately, his body twisting around a little, tugging on the ropes that pulled his hands up towards the ceiling. He was beautiful like this. A line of taut muscle and smooth skin, stretched out for her to play with.
She sauntered over to him, taking her time to cover the relatively short distance, letting him look at her. She knew that her outfit wasn't what he had been expecting, not from what he'd told her about the women he'd paid for, and she wanted him to know this was going to be a very different experience from any of those he'd had before.
She'd chosen her favorite costume of pencil straight black skirt, a tight white shirt with a black corset over it, stockings and improbably high shiny leather pumps. Not even a sliver of PVC or latex in sight and from the way Colby's pupil's had dilated, just as good to look at as she thought herself. She shimmied a little, settling the shirt and corset and revealing even more flesh between the swell of her breasts. Colby licked his lips, eyes not leaving her chest.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
She ran her hand over his flank, feeling the slight tremor, and then stepped in close to him. His breath hitched, and she could feel his cock twitch hard against her stomach. She wrapped her arm round him and reached up behind him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. She licked the side of his neck before closing her teeth around the flexed tendon. Colby flinched, probably more in surprise than pain, but didn't pull away from her. She didn't suck a bruise into the skin like she wanted to, knowing that he'd let her now but probably regret it later.
“One day, Colby,” she breathed, sliding her mouth up his neck to nip his earlobe. “I'm going to put my mark right there, so everyone can see.”
Colby moaned, leaning into her body as much as he could, his hips flexing and pressing his erection hard against her. She knew it was reflex but she couldn't let it go unpunished.
“Any more of that and you won't get to come at all,” she chided, stepping back.
“No! Please,” Colby begged, his body trying to follow hers before he managed to get himself under control. “Please, Amita. Please, I'll be good.”
“I'm sure you'll try,” she said, trying to keep the glee out of her voice. She had thought that she was going to have to work much harder at opening him up, making him let go of all the baggage he seemed to be carrying with him. But it was as though some switch had been thrown in his head and once he'd made up his mind to do this there was no other choice but to give in completely.
“I will. I will,” Colby was saying as she pressed a finger over his lips.
“I don't want to hear any more words from you unless I ask you a direct question,” she instructed, leaving her finger on his lips because they were beautifully soft and maybe later she'd kiss him there. “You can make all the noise you want to, but no more words. Do you understand?”
“Yes Amita,” he replied, murmuring against her finger. He looked like he wanted to suck it into his mouth but didn't think he was supposed to, so she pushed inside. He blinked in surprise, before closing his lips and swirling his tongue around her finger. She pulled out a little and pushed in with two, watching his eyes close with pleasure.
Interesting.
Amita wondered if being dominated wasn't the only thing that he'd denied himself. He hadn't mentioned any men in his past, but then she hadn't asked outright. She suspected admitting wanting to suck cock for real was probably even more taboo for him than letting a woman take control. Maybe, if this all went well and they became regular partners, she could help him find someone to fulfill that part of his fantasies.
Right now though, she had to get on with the scene because they only had the room for another two hours. She pulled her fingers from Colby's mouth, hiding her smile when he whined in protest, and popped the button on his jeans. His eyes snapped open, fixed on the motion of her fingers. She scraped her nails over the smooth skin of his stomach and slipped her hand down into the damp heat of his pants, feeling his muscles twitch and flutter under her fingers.
“Good boy,” she murmured when she discovered he'd followed her instructions and was naked under his jeans. “And good boys get rewards.”
She slid the zipper down, parting the cloth and pushing the fabric down. His cock was red and hard, jutting out of a nest of dark curls, curving slightly towards his belly. The head was shiny and smooth, and she couldn't resist brushing her thumb along the already moist slit. Colby moaned, hips pushing forward, desperate for more.
“You're going to have to be a good for a while longer though,” she said, letting go of his dick and turning towards the bag she'd brought with her. She turned back to Colby holding the length of twine so he could see it, playing it through her fingers.
“Don't worry, I'm going to help you.”
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On to part 2
Rating: NC17
Warnings: D/s, ropes, some pain, but nothing non-con or bloody
Pairing: Colby/Amita
Word count: 11 500 (in total)
Spoilers: Up to season 4, but basically a PWP
Notes: This is my first Numb3ers fiction and my first het fiction for donkey's years. It's been knocking around in my head for an age and is possibly the beginning of a series where Charlie and possibly Ian get in on the act. I hope you like it.
It's been betaed by annieb1955 who's done a sterling job of whipping this into shape and all the remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.
Summary: Colby gets a huge surprise when he makes his first trip to a fetish club.
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Colby froze. He couldn't believe it. After everything he'd been through, after what he'd survived, what he'd done, he was going to lose it all because he was a fucking pervert. Jesus Christ. Fuck! God, this was a disaster. He was shaking, actually shaking. Never...God...Jesus...
He took a breath in.
He'd been so careful, even once he'd gotten out of the army, because if there had even been a hint of scandal his cover would have been blown. Well, maybe not blown but he'd have been out of the FBI so fast his feet wouldn't have touched the ground and that would have ruined everything.
The irony wasn't lost on him. After everything, all the trauma of the past few months, here was the thing that was going to destroy the fragile trust he'd rebuilt with his friends. The looks on his friends’ faces when they'd arrested him, all the disgust and disappointment, the hurt and betrayal, was the thing that still woke him in the night. It was stupid really, given what he'd been through, but somehow the loss of his team had been the one thing that had nearly broken him.
And now he was going to see those looks on the faces of his friends again, all because he needed things. Dirty, disgusting things that normal people didn't need or want. Things that would break his momma's heart if she ever found out.
He took a step back, finally making his legs work enough to get him away, and saw something like panic in the eyes of the woman who could destroy him. She took a step and then caught herself. Maybe he was going to get out of this. Maybe she was a scared as he was. He turned and fled, just making it outside the club before the fear got the better of him and he vomited.
Jesus!
Amita, nice quiet Amita, Charlie's girlfriend Amita, was a dominatrix. And she knew, she'd looked at him, right at him, into the places where he hid what was wrong with him, and she saw what he was.
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“Colby, what is with you today?” David snapped, finally getting frustrated with his partner's weird mood.
Colby's head snapped up, panic in his eyes for just a fraction of a second before he composed his features, and looked back down at the file he'd not been reading for the past hour.
“Nothing,” Colby grunted, the tension in his shoulders belying the statement.
“Right,” David drawled. “Because that page is real interesting.”
Colby looked down at the paper as though he was seeing it for the first time and sighed. David wasn't sure where his partner's head was but it certainly wasn't in the game. Not that he could blame him. The case wasn't exactly urgent, which was a good thing because they had nothing to go on. Don was off, God knows where, following what was probably another wild goose chase, Megan was in San Diego interviewing the witnesses again and he and Colby were re-reading all the documents in the files.
“It's nothing, really” Colby said, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself as much as David. “Just not feeling too well. Must be something I ate.”
“Look, go home,” David suggested, his mood softening at the weariness in his partner's words. “I'll cover for you. I'll call you if something comes up.”
“Okay,” Colby agreed, blowing out at breath after a few moments. “Thanks, man.”
He stood up, grabbing his jacket and headed for the elevators. David sighed. He hoped the other man's odd behavior was just down to a bad burrito and not something else. Not that he could blame the guy. What Colby had been through was enough to give anyone issues. He'd woken up a few nights himself, shaking with fear and frustration because in his dreams they hadn't gotten to the boat quickly enough, or that bastard Lancer had pushed more of the drugs into his friend's body.
Or worse still, that none of them had believed Colby when he'd called Charlie and he'd died out there on his own, knowing his team weren't coming. He just hoped that the counseling he knew Colby was getting was helping him more than his own was.
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Amita had just signed off from her session of Primacy when she heard the knock at her door. She headed down the hall wondering who was calling on her at this time of night. Charlie wouldn't have come home early, would he? And Larry certainly wouldn't come over without...well, he wouldn't come over. She peered through the peep hole and was surprised to see Colby waiting on the other side.
She opened the door but stood in the gap it created, not sure yet where this conversation was going to go. Colby didn't say anything though. He just stood there staring at her, his whole body radiating something she'd never seen from him before. Terror.
He hadn't slept in days, that much was obvious from the bruised looking skin under his blood-shot eyes and he looked like he might turn tail and run at any moment. She decided that she needed to get him inside or she was pretty sure he'd disappear before she could fix this mess between them. She opened the door wider, gesturing him inside with the sweep of her arm. He followed her into the living room and stood in front of her, his body falling into a passable parade rest.
“Colby...” she started gently, as she sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her.
“Amita, look,” he interrupted, finally finding his voice. “I want...no, I need to know when you're going to tell Don. It's killing me, the waiting, and I'm too much of a coward to just resign.”
Amita blinked stupidly at him. How could he think that she was going to do that? Or that Don would make him leave, even if she were that much of a bitch. She couldn't say anything, her voice lost in surprise, so she just stared up at him. He wasn't looking at her though, his eyes were fixed somewhere on the wall over her head, and the muscles of his jaw were clenched so tight she thought his teeth must be hurting.
“I know that what I do, have done, is wrong-”
“Colby,” it was Amita's turn to interrupt this time, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “Stop. Just stop for a minute and think. And please, sit down.”
“I'd prefer to stand,” he replied, his voice tight and scared.
“I said, sit down,” she repeated, her voice involuntarily taking on the tone she used when she played at the club. Something like relief passed across his face as he sat down on the sofa, perching on the edge just about as far from her as he could get. Okay, baby steps.
“Colby,” she said, her voice soothing now. “Think about what you're saying. Why would I want to tell anyone I saw you in the club?”
“Because I'm an FBI agent,” he answered, his voice incredulous. “Because I wasn't there to watch, Amita. I was there to find someone who'd hurt me, humiliate me...”
“Someone like me?” she asked softly, beginning to realize just how big the problem was.
“No!” Colby almost shouted, obviously horrified by the idea that she should think herself anything like him. “No. No. Someone who-”
“Yes,” Amita insisted, determined to make him see she was exactly like he was. “Someone just like me, who could look at you and know what you needed. Who could know just where to touch you and just how much pain you can take before you break. Someone who's not afraid of what they are and who certainly doesn't find what you want anything to be ashamed of.”
“Amita, you don't understand,” Colby countered, not willing to accept what she was saying but beginning to relax just a little.
“I think I do,” she said, reaching out her hand to him, offering him the chance to pull away if he didn't want her touch. “I think that you're in a pretty raw emotional state right now, despite the fact that they've let you back to work. I think that you've not slept much since you left the club and you've convinced yourself that I'm a complete bitch.”
“I...maybe,” Colby admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I guess you can't tell anyone without Charlie finding out.”
“That's not why I wouldn't tell anyone about you,” she said, laughing, relieved that he was finally beginning to talk, even if his assumptions were incorrect. “Besides, Charlie already knows.”
Colby blinked at her, obviously unable to comprehend fully what she'd just said. She wanted to pull the confused man into her arms because this whole conversation may be about her being a dominatrix but she was also his friend. Someone had really done a number on him and screwed him up so badly he had very nearly broken. She thought that if she ever found out who it was she might not be responsible for her actions.
“Colby,” Amita said, running her hand up and down his arm. “I wouldn't tell anyone because what you or I do in private is no one's business but ours. More importantly there's nothing to be ashamed of, even if it's wise to be discreet.”
“Charlie knows?” he asked, after a few moments. “But at the club-”
“His tastes don't run in the same direction as mine.”
“He doesn't mind that you...that you're...”
“A dominatrix? A sadist?” she asked, her eyebrow raised in amusement. “No, he doesn't mind. As long as he doesn't have to be the one I use to satisfy my needs.”
“He knows you go to the club?” he asked, finally looking like he was more interested than terrified. “He knows that there are...other people?”
“He does,” Amita agreed, a smile creeping onto her face at the thought of the awesomeness that was Charlie Eppes. “I don't have sex with them, at least not penetrative sex, and I always come home to him.”
A blush crept across Colby's face at her blunt terms and Amita couldn't help but find him adorable, she always had. He was, despite the things he had done and seen, even despite what he clearly sometimes enjoyed on the weekend, wonderfully innocent. She slipped closer to him, thinking now was the time to make the suggestion she'd been contemplating since he'd run out of the club three days ago.
“I've not seen you at the club before,” she said, needing to know a few facts before she made her offer. “How often do you like to play?”
“You make it sound like a game,” Colby answered, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “I try not to, but sometimes I just...I need...That was the first time I'd been there.”
“It is a game to some people,” Amita replied, taking the smile out of her voice when she caught Colby's horrified look. “Don't you enjoy it?”
He didn't say anything, just hung his head and stared at his hands. Amita decided then and there she was going to make it her mission to find out who it was who'd made him so guilt-ridden and she was going to make their life a living hell. She was going to enlist Charlie and between them they would take away everything this person held dear. She placed her hand between Colby's shoulder blades, feeling him tense and then give way under the gentle pressure.
“It's okay. You don't have to talk about it. Just listen to me. Can you do that?”
Colby nodded, still not looking up. She rubbed her hand up and down his back, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and find just the right words. One day he might gladly accept what she was about to offer for his own sake but right now he needed another reason to accept.
“I have a favor to ask,” she began, feeling Colby tense under hand. “Nothing bad. Just, just something that I think would suit us both.”
“I'd rather you just told Don.”
“What?”
“Just get it over with,” he said, as though it explained everything and she suddenly realized what he meant.
“Fuck, Colby,” she said letting the hurt color her speech. “When did I ever do anything that would make you think I would blackmail you?”
“But you said...” he started, stopping as his head finally came up when he processed the tone of her voice. “I don't understand what you want.”
“What I want is to not go to the club any more,” she said, carrying on at his confused look. “I want to have someone, a friend I hope, whom I can satisfy my needs with. Someone who I know Charlie trusts and who respects the boundaries of our relationship.”
“Are you asking if I'll...if I can...”
“I would very much like to do a scene with you, see if we can't be good for each other,” she explained, making the offer sound like it was so much smaller than it really was. “I don't want an answer now. I want you to get some rest and then we'll talk about it later.”
“I can't-”
“I said I didn't want an answer now,” she stopped him, sliding her hand up to the back of his neck and just letting it rest there. “I want you to think about it when you're not loopy with lack of sleep. And if the answer is still no, you have to know I won't do anything to hurt you.”
Colby didn't say anything for a few minutes, just sat and stared at the picture on the wall. Amita knew he wasn't really looking at it. In fact she was pretty sure he wasn't even in the room any more. She kept her hand on the back of his neck, letting the gentle pressure reassure him and remind him to come back eventually.
“Okay,” he sighed, eventually.
“Okay, you'll think about it?” she inquired.
“Okay, I'll do it.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised by his agreement. “I think I'll still check with you after you've slept some though.”
“Yeah, that'd be good,” he agreed vaguely, before an enormous yawn overtook him.
Amita realized the adrenaline and worry he'd been running on had gone and his body was finally shutting down. Maybe the fear hadn't done more than just let up a little, but it was enough for the exhaustion to finally win out. There was no way he was going to make it back across town before he was dead to the world.
“Come on,” she said, standing up. “You need to go to bed.”
“What? You said you wanted to wait.”
“And I do. I meant I'm putting you to bed in my guest room before you keel over.”
“'m 'kay,” he slurred through another yawn.
“No, you're not and Don'll kill me if I let you drive like this.”
She held out a hand to him and he met her eyes, looking for something she hoped he found, before he took it. Silently she led him into the small bedroom and pulled down the covers on the bed. He stood next to it looking tired and lost for a few moments before she took pity on him.
“Sit,” she said, pushing him down on to the bed and kneeling in front of him. “Shoes off.”
He hummed in agreement but didn't do anything to help as Amita undid his laces and slipped off his boots. She pulled his socks off and debated reaching up to undo his pants but stopped herself. He probably wouldn't fight her now but he might not be happy when he was a little bit more with it.
“There,” she said, standing up. “Just lie down and get some sleep.”
“Thanks Amita,” he said, his voice rough and tired. He looked up at her, eyes big and hopeful like she was the answer to all his problems and she couldn't help but stroke her hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch just a little as she brushed the strands back from his face, noticing they probably needed a trim. She smiled at him before leaning down and kissing him softly on the forehead. When she straightened up his eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed.
“Come on,” she encouraged quietly, guiding him back onto the bed. “Get some sleep.”
Colby, already mostly unconscious, lifted his legs up and stretched out on his side, wrapping his arms round his chest. Amita noticed the phone still attached to his belt and unclipped it, placing it on the night stand next to the bed. She patted the pockets of his jeans and carefully fished in them to pull out his keys and wallet. He didn't even stir. She grinned to herself, amazed at the trust he was already showing her, before she pulled the covers over him, tucking them round his shoulders.
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Colby smiled. He'd found the connection between Bates and Gough and was the office's golden boy, while David was still plowing through his stack of files. More importantly he'd slept for nine hours straight, no nightmares, no cold sweats, no nothing, until Amita had woken him at six in the morning so he could go home and change in time for work.
She was amazing. He'd always thought she was pretty damn cool, who wouldn't, but now he was willing to probably raise her to the level of goddess. She hadn't treated him like a crazy person this morning, which frankly he would have done if the situation was reversed, and she'd reminded him that she still wanted him to think about her proposal. He knew he'd blushed like a teenager as she ushered him out with a smile and a cup of coffee.
He couldn't believe she was so open about her...well, her kinks, and that Charlie knew about them. Colby struggled to get his head round the idea that they had a relationship that allowed Amita to go out to The Torture Garden on her own and that Charlie wasn't driven insane with jealousy. He wasn't sure he could share someone he loved with other people, no matter how fleeting the connection they had.
And that was his big problem. Could he really help a friend's girlfriend cheat on him? Charlie was a nice guy, a really nice guy, and even though Amita said he knew, it still felt wrong. He wasn't that sort of guy, he never had been, and he wasn't about to start now. Especially because if he screwed up with Charlie he knew he'd probably be out of the bureau, let alone the LA office. He didn't have any illusions about where Don's loyalties lay, no matter how much he professed to count his team as family.
But he also knew himself. There was no way he'd be able to ignore his urges, not without going insane, because he'd tried that. He could pay, like he had done when he was playing at being a spy, but there was a part of him, just a tiny one, that wanted to stop hiding who he was. He thought that it was possible that this piece of him was just that bit bigger today than it had been before he'd spoken to Amita.
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Amita hadn't expected to see Colby so soon. She'd always thought he was the type of guy who took his time, thought through all his options, before making a decision. At least the big ones about his personal life. Looking at him now, chewing his lip as he sat across from her at the little table in her kitchen, she guessed she was wrong. She also guessed she was going to have to do most of the talking.
“I'm not sure if I can do this,” Colby said, surprising Amita again. “I just...it's Charlie.”
“I figured it would be,” she answered, hoping that the what she'd done wouldn't freak Colby out. “So, I asked him if he minded.”
“You what?”
“I asked him if he was okay with us doing a scene together,” she explained, even though she knew he'd heard her perfectly well.
“But what if he tells Don, what if-”
“Colby,” she snapped, and he stopped instantly, which was promising. “We've been through this.”
“I know but...” he paused and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, before blowing it out sharply. “Every time he looks at me he's going to be thinking about what we do together and how I'm getting part of you that he doesn't get.”
Yet again Amita realized she had underestimated Colby. She'd assumed he'd be more like Don, who wasn't really that much different from any other guy she'd ever known, and that he'd have the emotional intelligence of a house brick. He'd always exuded the aura of being a man's man before the past few days, of being nothing more than a brighter than average jock who happened to work at the FBI.
“It's a part of me that he doesn't want,” she said softly, let a little bit of the disappointment at not being able to share it with Charlie seep into her voice. “One that he's more than happy for you to have.”
“It's just weirding me out a little,” Colby admitted, looking down at his hands. “I mean, he's going to be looking at me whenever we work together and wondering what you and I do together.”
Colby looked up from his hands, his face earnest and worried but Amita could see something else, something much more important. He wanted Charlie to be wondering, in fact she was pretty sure he wanted her lover to know exactly what they'd been doing together. God, it was going to be fun to play with him. She thanked her lucky stars that Charlie was as open as he was, even if he didn't want to be the object of her attentions.
“There's a solution to that problem.”
“Not do this?” Colby suggested, a wry smile on his face.
“I can tell Charlie exactly what I do to you,” she replied, raising her eyebrow in challenge to Colby's incredulous look. “I'll tell him how I'm going to put a collar round your neck and strap your hands behind your back, how I'm going to put a plug in your ass and then take a paddle to it. And Charlie'll know how pretty you look with your butt cheeks nicely pinked, begging for me to fuck you like the slut you are. You'll like that, won't you?”
Colby stared at her, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in harsh little pants. When he didn't answer she wondered if she'd gone too far and pushed him away. Maybe she'd read him wrong, maybe he didn't want someone else to know what he was at all, and he just wanted someone to beat him until the endorphins kicked in.
She jumped when he moved, the legs of the chair scraping on the floor as he pushed it back to stand up. He stood for a moment, as though he was fighting some internal battle, before dropping to his knees in front of her. His head was bowed, his hands behind his back, and Amita couldn't resist stroking her hand through his hair, bringing it to rest on the back of his neck.
“Good boy.”
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Colby flicked the channel on his TV and wished he wasn't so nervous. He'd taken a super long shower, cleaning outside, and in, better than he ever had before, shaved really, really carefully and taken his time to choose clothes that fitted Amita's request. And still he had time to spare. He felt like some kid on prom day, all dressed up and ready to go well before he needed to be, his excitement making him restless and twitchy.
Maybe he should have another glass of water. He needed to be hydrated, that was important. But on the other hand he didn't want to have to ask to stop the scene so he could use the bathroom. He knew Amita would let him stop, they'd already talked around some of the rules for their scene the night before, just like he knew she wasn't going to need him to have a full bladder. They'd happily agreed on a distaste for golden showers.
He flicked past ESPN, not able to concentrate on what was on the screen. His mind was supplying him with images of all the things that might happen later in the evening and nothing the TV had to offer could compete. They'd just talked last night, even though once he'd made up his mind and gone to his knees in front of her he'd wanted her to take him in hand and do all the things she threatened to do to him. He was itching to feel her hands on him.
She'd explained they weren't going to play at her apartment because the walls were like paper and she was going to make him scream. He'd shivered at her words and she'd scratched her nails gently across his scalp as a reward, making him twitch with the need to bury his head in her lap and just purr.
After an hour of questions about what he would and wouldn't do, his knees were sore and he was trembling from the sensory overload of her touch. The casual proprietariness of her fingers in his hair, like she was stroking a favorite pet, pushed all his buttons and he was as hard as a rock when she'd told him to go home. He was almost disappointed, until she'd told him he wasn't allowed to touch himself, except to wash and use the bathroom, and she'd deal with him the next evening.
So here he was, sitting on his sofa, twitchy with anticipation and frustration waiting for Amita to come and collect him. He just had to pass the fifteen minutes until she arrived and then it'd all be okay.
He flicked the channel again.
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Amita glanced at Colby as she took the corner. His hand was still tapping out the same rhythm on his thigh it had been since they'd left his apartment. It was the only visible sign of the nerves she knew he must be feeling. Her own stomach was churning with all the ways this could go wrong. Even though they'd discussed everything yesterday she could still mess it up spectacularly and make Colby's neuroses about his sexuality even worse.
She'd talked to Charlie about how screwed up he was because he'd guessed there was something eating at her and he wouldn't let it go. She'd felt guilty telling him because despite her promise to tell Charlie all about their encounters, her suspicions about Colby's past weren't part of the deal.
Charlie of course, because he was so much better at dealing with her feelings than he was his own, calmed her down and made her see that there probably wasn't a single person who has screwed up the man beside her. Just like the old saying about it taking a village to raise a child, it seemed to take a small town to screw one up. She just hoped she didn't make it worse.
Talking about limits and agreeing something was acceptable was totally different from experiencing it. She'd known people who could be pushed and pushed and suddenly something they'd done a hundred times would freak them out. She just hoped that all the crap he'd seen didn't mean he was going to freak out over some of the things she wanted to do to him.
She reached out and put her hand over his, trapping his tapping fingers against his thigh. He jumped a little before stilling himself and turning his head to look at her. After a moment he huffed out a nervous little laugh and Amita smiled at him.
“So, how was your day?” he asked, his voice full of irony.
Amita laughed, squeezing Colby's hand just a little tighter.
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When they'd started to head up into the hills, past Glendale, Colby had thought Amita must have taken a wrong turn. When they'd finally been buzzed through the gates of one of mansions that clustered along Saint Katherine Drive he'd been convinced that it was all some giant mistake. Once inside the impressive front doors though, that had all changed.
There were a couple of pierced and tattooed receptionists, although he guessed he wasn't supposed to call them that, who had smiled at Amita and looked him up and down like he was a piece of meat. One of them, and he was sticking his neck out and saying it was male, developed a predatory gleam in his eye that had made Colby step a little closer to Amita. The other one just looked bored.
He'd been only dimly aware of Amita handing over her credit card, the panic rising in this throat making it hard to breathe. He wondered if he should offer to pay but he suspected that being a gentleman right now was probably a mistake.
The predatory help had shown them to a room that made Colby's eyes pop and didn't do a thing to make his panic lessen any. It was just like all the dungeons in the porn movies that he secretly indulged in. There were hooks and bars all over the walls and ceiling and Colby had gone from panicked to hard in about a second, wondering which of them Amita was going to use that night. He'd still been terrified about what they were going to do, and what it would mean for the future, but he was more turned on than he had been in years. The assistant had been far too eager to help Amita set up the scene and she'd been forced to use her scary teacher voice to make him leave.
“Lets get you relaxed before I go and change,” Amita had said once the kid had gone, and it was only then that he realized that she wasn't going to do the scene in the clothes she had on. She opened the large bag she'd carried in from the car and pulled out a length of rope, grinning at him as she said “Take off your t-shirt.”
After a moment's hesitation where he'd briefly considered calling it all off, he'd obeyed. He rolled it up and looked for somewhere to put it before tossing it down near the bag. When he straightened and met Amita's eyes he had to suck in a breath at the look on her face.
He knew he was attractive enough to catch appreciative glances from some folks, he'd played on it from time to time, and he had even believed a couple of people when they'd told him he was handsome. But Amita was looking at him like he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen, like she had just won the lottery.
“Amita...” he'd started.
“I think you should be quiet and let me work,” she'd suggested, stepping towards him, the wolfish gleam in her eye putting the receptionist's to shame.
“Okay,” Colby had agreed, his voice barely above a whisper as he'd tried not to blush under her scrutiny.
“Good boy.”
She ran her fingers down the center of his bare chest and over his stomach, scraping her nails just under the waist band of his jeans. His breath had hitched as he shivered into her touch, both wanting and dreading what was going to happen. He knew that if Amita was as competent at causing him the pain he craved as she was at everything else she did, he was going to be in agony for the next couple of hours.
She'd smiled her dazzling smile at him, probably guessing what he was thinking, before she'd ordered him to hold his hands out in front of him. She'd wound a length of rope around each wrist, wrapping and knotting it to create a cuff with trailing ropes on each arm. She'd moved her hands with a deft sureness that spoke of both skill and practice, dragging the ropes against his skin so he felt every coil as it formed, every loop that was going to hold him in place as she used him. His cock was painfully hard in his jeans by the time she'd finished and she grinned at him again before running one over her nails along the obvious bulge, making him twitch and groan.
“We're going to start with something simple,” she'd said, pressing him backwards so he was under the ring in the center of the ceiling of the room. “And if you're a very good boy I might take you down and fuck you.”
Colby had held his hands above his head, because that's what a good boy did to please his mistress.
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Amita slipped her foot into her shoe, took a couple of deep breaths, and stepped out from behind the screen she'd been changing behind. Colby's eyes were on her immediately, his body twisting around a little, tugging on the ropes that pulled his hands up towards the ceiling. He was beautiful like this. A line of taut muscle and smooth skin, stretched out for her to play with.
She sauntered over to him, taking her time to cover the relatively short distance, letting him look at her. She knew that her outfit wasn't what he had been expecting, not from what he'd told her about the women he'd paid for, and she wanted him to know this was going to be a very different experience from any of those he'd had before.
She'd chosen her favorite costume of pencil straight black skirt, a tight white shirt with a black corset over it, stockings and improbably high shiny leather pumps. Not even a sliver of PVC or latex in sight and from the way Colby's pupil's had dilated, just as good to look at as she thought herself. She shimmied a little, settling the shirt and corset and revealing even more flesh between the swell of her breasts. Colby licked his lips, eyes not leaving her chest.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
She ran her hand over his flank, feeling the slight tremor, and then stepped in close to him. His breath hitched, and she could feel his cock twitch hard against her stomach. She wrapped her arm round him and reached up behind him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. She licked the side of his neck before closing her teeth around the flexed tendon. Colby flinched, probably more in surprise than pain, but didn't pull away from her. She didn't suck a bruise into the skin like she wanted to, knowing that he'd let her now but probably regret it later.
“One day, Colby,” she breathed, sliding her mouth up his neck to nip his earlobe. “I'm going to put my mark right there, so everyone can see.”
Colby moaned, leaning into her body as much as he could, his hips flexing and pressing his erection hard against her. She knew it was reflex but she couldn't let it go unpunished.
“Any more of that and you won't get to come at all,” she chided, stepping back.
“No! Please,” Colby begged, his body trying to follow hers before he managed to get himself under control. “Please, Amita. Please, I'll be good.”
“I'm sure you'll try,” she said, trying to keep the glee out of her voice. She had thought that she was going to have to work much harder at opening him up, making him let go of all the baggage he seemed to be carrying with him. But it was as though some switch had been thrown in his head and once he'd made up his mind to do this there was no other choice but to give in completely.
“I will. I will,” Colby was saying as she pressed a finger over his lips.
“I don't want to hear any more words from you unless I ask you a direct question,” she instructed, leaving her finger on his lips because they were beautifully soft and maybe later she'd kiss him there. “You can make all the noise you want to, but no more words. Do you understand?”
“Yes Amita,” he replied, murmuring against her finger. He looked like he wanted to suck it into his mouth but didn't think he was supposed to, so she pushed inside. He blinked in surprise, before closing his lips and swirling his tongue around her finger. She pulled out a little and pushed in with two, watching his eyes close with pleasure.
Interesting.
Amita wondered if being dominated wasn't the only thing that he'd denied himself. He hadn't mentioned any men in his past, but then she hadn't asked outright. She suspected admitting wanting to suck cock for real was probably even more taboo for him than letting a woman take control. Maybe, if this all went well and they became regular partners, she could help him find someone to fulfill that part of his fantasies.
Right now though, she had to get on with the scene because they only had the room for another two hours. She pulled her fingers from Colby's mouth, hiding her smile when he whined in protest, and popped the button on his jeans. His eyes snapped open, fixed on the motion of her fingers. She scraped her nails over the smooth skin of his stomach and slipped her hand down into the damp heat of his pants, feeling his muscles twitch and flutter under her fingers.
“Good boy,” she murmured when she discovered he'd followed her instructions and was naked under his jeans. “And good boys get rewards.”
She slid the zipper down, parting the cloth and pushing the fabric down. His cock was red and hard, jutting out of a nest of dark curls, curving slightly towards his belly. The head was shiny and smooth, and she couldn't resist brushing her thumb along the already moist slit. Colby moaned, hips pushing forward, desperate for more.
“You're going to have to be a good for a while longer though,” she said, letting go of his dick and turning towards the bag she'd brought with her. She turned back to Colby holding the length of twine so he could see it, playing it through her fingers.
“Don't worry, I'm going to help you.”
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On to part 2