Elysium
Title: Elysium
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: NC17
Warnings: BDSM - public bloodplay, mild domination/submission, consensual restraint, orgasm denial/control, flogging, waxplay, anal fisting, some voyeurism - mentions also of erotic cutting, and Japanese rope bondage.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's curiosity for BDSM is aroused, after he ends up being reluctantly dragged to a Dungeon party on assignment. A lot more than Mick's potential for kink ends up being revealed.
Author's Note: Written especially by request for Jksgirl.
posted to moonlight_slash and smallfandomfest
-------------------------------------------------------
Eyes closed, Mick concentrated on his breathing - inhale, exhale. Josef stood above him, resplendent in red velvet and leather; a cat ‘o’ nine tails flogger wielded in each hand. Arching his back, Mick grimaced, and tensed against the titanium strength chains that bound him, as Josef trailed the ends of the flogger’s leather falls across his chest, and then landed another series of blows.
Pleasure and pain, Mick, it’s all the same; only the application of stimulus varies
A steady rhythm could be heard droning in the background; and once again Mick had to wonder - how on earth had Josef managed to talk him into this?
A week earlier, the DA’s office had asked him to play body guard to one of their star witnesses in a murder case, a man by the name of James Delaware. Mick hadn’t bothered to ask whether that was the man’s real name.
James Delaware had proved to be more of a handful than Mick had been expecting. “I’m going out, this is my regular night,” he’d announced one evening out of the blue; no rhyme or reason, and no further explanation.
And that’s how Mick had found himself a not so willing tagalong at Elysium Dungeon; trying his best to simultaneously fade into the background, and look like he actually belonged there.
Different scenes had played out in front of him - the intricacies of Japanese rope bondage, the savage beauty of Florentine style flogging - eventually Mick had found himself staring hungrily as a couple in front of him shallow sliced patterns across their flesh, and smeared rich, coppery scented blood over one another’s body.
Mick had felt his fangs descend, had tried his best to ignore the sweat that dripped down his back, the raw, aching need that made his mouth water.
“That’s not a good idea,” A hand had reached for Mick in the darkness, clamping down firm on his shoulder.
“Josef, what are you doing here?” Josef had been the last person Mick expected to see. His brow furrowing, Mick had regarded his friend standing alongside him with genuine puzzlement.
“I could ask you the same thing?” Josef had raised a facetious eyebrow, and prodded the end of a pointed finger into Mick’s chest.
Mick had shifted defensive then. “I’m on assignment, it’s not like I actually want to be here.”
“Pity,” Josef had raised another eyebrow at Mick’s response, dismissive this time; he’d seen the look in Mick’s eyes, the curiosity that burned there. “Come and see me tomorrow night.”
Satisfied he wasn’t about to publicly vamp out, and reveal their secret, Josef had left Mick to his own devices then, sauntering off with a casual “enjoy the rest of your evening” thrown over his shoulder.
The following evening, Mick appeared on Josef’s door step.
“Can I come in?” Mick shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other; as Josef leant elegantly against the frame of the door way - legs crossed at the ankles, and arms folded across his chest - and regarded Mick’s presence with a burlesque smile.
“Of course,” Josef ushered Mick inside.
“I wasn’t expecting to run into you last night,” Mick cleared his throat, and sat on the couch where Josef had indicated.
“Clearly,” Josef tittered with amusement as he pressed a glass of freshly poured blood into Mick’s hand, and then took a seat opposite.
Mick swirled the contents of his drink, and fixed a distracted eye on it crimson depths. “So do you, ah…”
“…Go there often?” Josef finished with overtones of exaggerated helpfulness. “Sometimes, as the mood takes me.”
“What do you get out of it?” Mick sat forward then, his brow lined with question as he shifted his gaze towards Josef.
“Power, control, pleasure - a connection that goes beyond the mundane,” Josef shrugged, and waved a casual hand through the air in front of him. “Pleasure and pain, Mick, it’s all the same; only the application of stimulus varies. I take it you’re not working tonight then?”
Josef smiled as he took a sip of his own drink, and peered over the rim of the glass.
“No,” Mick shook his head, and looked relieved at the momentary shift in conversation. “They’re moving him around; another PI’s taking over as bodyguard.”
“Lucky for you,” Josef half raised the glass in his hand, and then set it to one side.
“I’m sorry?”
“The Dungeon’s holding a private party tonight, only the best people, cream of the crop as they say. I have tickets.” Josef spoke as if he were commenting on little more than a matter of passing interest.
“And you’d like me to go with you.” Mick sat back, the line of his mouth drawn into a smile that said ‘I knew that was coming’.
“I saw the look on your face last night, Mick, Josef offered Mick a knowing smile, “Your curiosity was piqued as much as your blood lust.”
“Maybe.” Mick averted his eyes, one leg jiggling nervously as he toyed with the glass in his hand. And then he was on his feet, chest puffed out, and thumb jerked towards the door with more bravado than he felt. “Alright, let’s go.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Josef quipped as he swept past to get ready.
“Do they know what we are?” Mick glanced around at Elysium’s gathered patrons; all clad in various states of undress, leather and chains the apparent uniform of choice; as they made their way along a smoke filled, red lit corridor.
“Some do,” Josef spoke over his shoulder, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the rhythmic din of music that bounced off the walls around them. “Invitation only nights we can be a lot more open.”
“Are we the only ones here tonight then?”
“Probably,” Josef shrugged, and took hold of Mick’s hand, guiding him through the throng. “At least it means we won’t have to share.”
“Share?” Mick stopped in his tracks, and looked at Josef askance. “Who said anything about sharing?”
“Well I wasn’t planning on passing you around like a well-used dishrag, if that’s what you mean,” Josef replied mildly, and then snaked a hand around the back of Mick’s neck, his fingers working casually along the knots of nervous tension he found there. “Just relax; nothing’s going to happen here tonight unless you want it to. We make an appearance, we stand on the sidelines and watch a few shows, and then we leave, all without you having to dip your fangs in, if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, alright,” Mick mustered a slightly embarrassed smile, his teeth working distractedly over his bottom lip, “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“…It doesn’t matter,” Josef interjected with a casual smile of his own, and the dismissive wave of a hand - a reassuring elbow nudged briefly into the side of Mick’s ribcage, “You’re cautious, controlled; hey I get that; I could probably take a leaf or two out of your book at times, Mick.”
“Really?” Mick looked surprised; Josef Kostan, he who could do no wrong, not that he’d admit to at least, confessing that he just might have something to learn from a Vampire centuries younger than himself - Mick wondered if this was what they referred to as a ‘red letter day’.
And then Josef was sweeping Mick into his arms, spiriting him past those who were milling around, carrying him towards an open play area at the back of the dungeon.
The spotlights that hung over the assortment of benches, and cross beams, gave an illusion of the area being far better lit than what it actually was. Outside those circles of light the rest of the dungeon remained shrouded in smoke, and a dark lit red glow.
Josef slipped into the shadows, gesturing for Mick to do the same; in front of them a small crowd gathered in a semi-circle around one of the benches.
A plastic drop cloth had been placed on the ground; the wooden bench itself covered likewise. Mick watched as a leather-studded, and thigh high boot clad female approached another lying naked and supine on the polymer surface.
Mick leant closer, and tried to whisper out the side of his mouth. “What are they…?”
“Sh,” Josef pressed an index finger to his lips, and then drew his arms around Mick’s waist; his chin rested near Mick’s shoulder. “Just watch.”
The scent of antiseptic wipes filled Mick’s nostrils; and then the glint of a blade - Mick drew a sharp breath at the sight of sterilised flesh parting to reveal a flower of crimson underneath.
Josef’s breath fanned hot against the side of Mick’s neck, his voice whispering seduction. “I will take you places you have never been; I will show you things that you have never seen. And I will watch the life run out of you.”
Mick had a vague recollection of the line being from an old movie; wherever it was from it seemed apt for the scene unfolding before him. The blood was running in tiny rivulets now, leaving jagged red trails over the girl’s skin as it dripped onto the plastic cloth below.
“Jesus,” Mick’s fangs descended; he looked around, trying to see if anyone else was responding to that flow of crimson with the same hungered fascination. Mick was surprised to note there were quite a few, and not all of them were Vampires - the blood seemed to hold some sort of erotic sway over those present. “People actually get into this?”
“Some do,” Josef waited until he’d caught the eye of the top, one eyebrow raised in a questioning arc. And then his hand was trailing a path along Mick’s front, stopping just at the top of Mick’s jeans. Josef quickly undid the fastenings he found there, and then slipped his hand inside.
Mick groaned, and arched into the sensation. In front of him a latex gloved hand was being dipped in blood, crimson patterns smeared across a back drop of pale skin.
“I think you and I need to find somewhere a little more private.” Josef’s lips were working along the side of Mick’s throat now, his fangs occasionally pricking the sensitive skin, leaving tiny pinprick droplets of blood.
Mick barely registered Josef’s words. His eyes still transfixed on what was before them. Josef’s hand tugged at Mick’s sleeve, bidding him to come away.
“So what now?” Mick looked around the room Josef had lead them to - the walls painted black with red trim, various wooden and metal restraint posts all around.
“That’s up to you,” Josef leant casually against one of the posts, observing Mick’s demeanour.
“I thought you were supposed to get all dominant, and boss me around,” Mick tongue in cheeked, as he walked over to a box on a low table, and opened the lid.
“You know it’s usually polite to ask, before you go handling someone’s toys,” Josef snipped, and then took the cat ‘o’ nine tails flogger, Mick had drawn out, from his hands.
Mick muttered a sheepish apology, and the pointed to the black leather object, “That looks like something the Marquis De Sade would have used.”
“It is something the Marquis De Sade would have used.” Josef displayed the item proudly, “I had them handmade in Paris over two hundred years ago; they’re a matching pair.”
“That long ago?” Mick raised an eyebrow at the length of time.
“What, you think any of this is a modern phenomenon?” Josef laughed, and shook his head, “People have always been kinky, Mick.” Josef shifted into Mick’s space then, his arms drawn around Mick’s neck, lips pressed against Mick’s ear. “Would you let me use them on you?”
“I don’t know,” Mick sounded uncertain, his curiosity still piqued, “maybe?”
“Maybe? Kneel.” Josef set a hand on Mick’s shoulder, forcing Mick to his knees, “This is that bossing you around bit you seem so keen on,” grinning, Josef placed the handle of the cat ‘o’ nine tails under Mick’s chin, directing Mick’s attention towards his. “What are you afraid of?”
Mick looked at Josef, incredulous. “Pain, for a start.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mick,” Josef caressed a hand over the top of Mick’s head; “I like you far too much to ever want to hurt you. It’s just…”
“…An application of stimulus.”
“Exactly.”
“So what happened to standing on the sidelines, and then leaving; without me getting my fangs wet?” Mick threw down a challenge then. Part of him hoped Josef would rise to the occasion, take charge, tell him how he should think, and feel - take the decision out of his hands; somehow Mick knew that wasn’t the way it was going to happen, Josef needed his consent.
“You can leave if you want to, Mick,” Josef’s hand brushed the side of Mick’s face, and then cupped Mick’s chin, “I won’t force you do anything you don’t want to; trust me, it’s really no fun that way.”
Mick studied Josef’s face, his forehead lined with contemplation; and then he was pressing the palm of Josef’s hand against his lips, and nodding, “Okay.” The last thing he wanted was Josef thinking he was too uptight; he’d never hear the end of it, and besides, curiosity had got the better of him; Mick wanted to know what was behind those rapturous expressions he’d observed.
“Stand up,” Josef issued a snap toned directive, summoning Mick to his feet. His hands went to the front of Mick’s shirt, fingers working deftly along a row of buttons; Mick’s shirt undone, Josef slipped the garment from Mick’s shoulders, and then turned his attention to Mick’s jeans. Mick stood passive throughout, shivering every so often under Josef’s touch.
“So what now,” Mick stepped out of his jeans and underwear, kicked off his shoes and socks; tried to look far more confident than what he felt, standing there naked and exposed, as he awaited instruction.
“Don’t be in such in a hurry,” Josef chided, as he circled Mick’s form, admiring the view from all angles. And then he was shifting into Mick’s space once again, his arms drawn around Mick’s shoulders from behind this time; his lips pressed once more against Mick’s ear, whispering low. “By the time we’re through, I’ll know exactly what it is you’re afraid of, and you’ll have come so hard you’ll have forgotten your own name.”
Mick let out on involuntary groan at the sound of Josef’s words. He lent back into Josef’s embrace, head turned slightly, his mouth seeking Josef’s for a fervent clashing of lips and fangs. Josef drew his arm tighter across Mick’s chest, deepened the kiss awhile, his hand teasing just above the line of Mick’s crotch. And then he was relinquishing his hold, and pointing to a bench with metal restraints.
“Over there,” Josef instructed, “and lie down, face up.” Josef waited for Mick to follow his command, and then joined him, running his hands along Mick’s arms, stretching them above Mick’s head; Mick’s wrists, and ankles shackled in place. “Has anyone ever told you how magnificent you are?” Josef ran a nonchalant finger down the line of Mick’s torso, and then back again, pausing to roll one of one Mick’s nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinching just hard enough to elicit a sharp hiss of surprise.
Josef’s hand continued back on a downwards trajectory, his fingers teasing along Mick’s abdomen - and then seeking lower. Josef stopped when he reached Mick’s cock, and wrapped a firm hand around the base of Mick’s shaft.
“Oh - Jesus,” Mick gritted his teeth, and let a stifled cry of pleasure; as Josef lowered his head, and took Mick’s cock deep into his mouth, his tongue performing an intricate ballet back and forth along Mick’s shaft, and over his glans. Mick began to relax. So far, all Josef had done was chain him to a bench, and proceed to give him one of the best blow jobs he’d had in memory - living or otherwise.
Within minutes Mick felt his balls tighten, and draw up closer to his body. His breathing fell ragged, muscles tensed; his whole body stretched taut and exquisite. And then Josef did the unthinkable. With impeccable timing he stopped, right as Mick was on the very brink of orgasm.
“Hey, what the hell…”
Josef cut Mick’s protest short, with a hand clamped over his mouth. “You don’t get to say when,” Josef crooned in Mick’s ear, “Not until I say so.”
Josef waited until Mick had swallowed back rising nerves, and nodded his assent, before returning his attentions to Mick’s now straining erection. Again he followed the same pattern as before - and again, and again - until Mick began to lose track of time, and himself.
And then Josef stopped altogether, drew a blindfold over Mick’s eyes, and then drew up a nearby seat, and sat down; Mick almost swore he could hear Josef grinning as he did so.
“So what happens now?” Mick asked a few moments later, wondering at Josef’s sudden, apparent lack of interest.
“Patience, Mick,” Josef replied, “Anticipation is half the fun.”
Mick heard the spark of a lighter then, the fizzle of a candle wick being lit. Fire was deadly to a Vampire; even the smallest of flames was enough to cause harm. They’d discussed the use of safety words earlier in the evening; now Mick found himself blurting the word out without thinking.
“Mercy.”
Immediately the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, Josef appeared all business as he took the blindfold from Mick’s eyes, and began releasing the restraints around his ankles and wrists.
“No, wait,” Josef halted what he was doing, and waited for Mick to continue. “I’m sorry,” Mick sounded a little embarrassed as he spoke, “you just freaked me out with the whole flame thing; call it an instinctual response.”
“Mick,” Josef snorted a laugh and then covered Mick’s hand with his own. “Do you really think I’m going to try and burn you to death with a candle? That’s far too understated for my liking. If I was planning on doing ‘that’, I’d bring a blow torch in here, or a flamethrower; you know, something with a bit of pizazz.” Josef winked conspiratorially, and then gave Mick’s hand a quick squeeze of reassurance.
“Yeah, alright.” Again that same embarrassed tone; deep down though Mick had to admit he was glad of Josef’s response, before that there had been a nagging voice of doubt in the back of Mick’s mind. Now he found himself relaxing more, willing to go with the flow.
“Are you ok to continue?”
Mick gave a quick nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Josef lowered his eyes, and gave Mick an off-centred smile, his voice brimming with overtones of exaggerated concern.
“Actually, now that you mention it,” Mick put on the best pitiful look he could muster, all doe eyed innocence, and hang dog face; as he gestured his head toward his crotch. “Maybe I could use just a little more reassurance.”
“Nice try,” Josef snorted a derisive laugh, and clicked the metal cuffs back into place, “you’re fine.”
Josef decided to dispense with the hot wax for now, setting the candle to one side, and drawing out one of the floggers instead. He trailed the ends of the leather falls across Mick’s chest, and down along Mick’s abdomen; his free hand followed suit.
Mick groaned as Josef wrapped a firm hand around his cock once more, and began to pump his length in a succession of quick, hard strokes - his thumb occasionally circling the head, heightening sensation.
Within seconds Mick was tensing with anticipation, certain that this time Josef was going to let him finish. He was close - oh Jesus bloody fuck he was so close; Josef’s hand was moving faster now, his movements becoming more focused; Mick felt himself perched on a knife’s edge. And then…
“Fuck!”
…Josef squeezed with thumb and forefinger, just below the head of Mick’s cock - effectively stopping Mick’s orgasm in its tracks.
“Do you want me to beg, is that it?” Mick snapped in frustration.
“You can try,” Josef stood nonchalant; the flogger in his hand trailed casually back and forth across Mick’s skin, “but it wouldn’t do you any good.” Josef bent his lips to Mick’s ear then, and whispered a heated instruction. “Close your eyes, and remember to breathe.”
The first blow was delivered light; still Mick flinched at the sensation. Josef waited for the initial shock of adrenalin to subside, resuming his same languid trailing as before, and then delivered another strike; gradually building a steady rhythm, the intensity increased with each past.
Eyes closed, Mick concentrated on his breathing - inhale, exhale. Josef wielded a flogger in each hand now; a flood of endorphins coming swift on the end of those falls, as he worked Florentine style across Mick’s chest, and then over his thighs.
How on earth had Josef managed to talk him into this? Mick wondered, as he strained against his restraints, and listened to the drone of a steady rhythm playing in the background. The sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant; then again Mick wouldn’t have exactly described it as pleasurable either - not in the vernacular at least. It was painful, yet exquisite; jolting, and yet comforting - his senses heightened, and yet remained cocooned in a warm haze - all at the same time. The atmosphere in the room seemed to electrify; Mick found himself locked in an intricate exchange of energy, and connection.
Josef began dripping hot wax over Mick’s chest and abdomen then; grinning at the sharp hisses of breath each drop elicited from Mick. Josef waited until he was sure Mick was floating high on an endorphin buzz, and then unlocked the metal cuffs around Mick’s ankles, chaining Mick instead to a spreader bar that hung low over the bench.
“I need you to relax for me, ok?” Josef’s manner shifted then; Mick could have sworn he sounded almost nurturing, the kindly mentor tutoring his favourite student through a particularly arduous task. Mick chortled at the mental image, trying to cover nerves that were rising just as fast as expectation.
Mick’s knees were pressed back against his chest, leaving him exposed. Josef coated one hand with organic grease, and then smoothed the other over the top of Mick’s head, repeating his prior instruction.
And then Josef was pressing a single digit against Mick’s hole, and slowly pushing forward, penetrating his space.
Josef waited until Mick had relaxed through the initial entry, and then carefully added a second finger.
“Relax,” Josef soothed once more, and added a third, and then a fourth; rings of muscle and fibre gradually stretched, as he crooned his reassurances. “What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing,” Mick growled through near animalistic vocalisations of pleasure.
“Bullshit.” Josef smiled, and formed his fingers into the shape of an arrow, before slipping in his thumb, and pressing forward slowly once more. ‘What are you afraid of?” Josef asked again, his voice calm and measured in the face of Mick’s increasingly guttural tones.
Mick’s whole body shook with the onslaught of sensation, his breath coming in short, staccato pants.
“I know you’re afraid of something, Mick,” Mick whimpered and mewled as Josef worked his hand inside his arse, “I’m kind of perceptive that way.”
Mick was beside himself in that moment, desperate for release. Somewhere amidst his haze of pleasure, his mind still raced with a myriad of thoughts, and emotions.
Lie, beg - figure out what he wants you to say...
“…Oh Christ, alright!” What came out instead was the truth. “You want to know what I’m afraid of?” Mick spoke with all the earnestness borne of desperation, “I’m afraid of you. You make me want to be a Vampire. I’m afraid of wanting to be with you, because it means accepting myself the way I am.”
Josef gave a triumphant smile, and then pressed his wrist to Mick’s mouth, uttering a singular command.
“Come.”
And then Mick was falling into a near frenzy as he sank his fangs hard enough into Josef’s flesh to hear the sound of enamel crunching against bone, and felt the world slip away.
Josef waited until Mick had regained his senses, the last residual pulsations of orgasm slowly fading away, and then released him from his restraints.
Immediately Mick tried to sit up, only to find himself lying supine again just as quickly.
“Whoa,” Josef immediately moved to Mick’s side. “Don’t try and get up too soon, your equilibrium’s gonna need a little more time than that to adjust to such mundane things as standing upright.”
Josef lifted Mick onto the floor then, and stretched out alongside him.
“Told you by the time we were finished I was going to know exactly what you’re afraid, and you were going to come so hard you’d forget your own name.” Josef’s teasing; off-centred smile was perilously close to a smirk, as he brushed a tender finger along the line of Mick’s jaw.
“I guess this proves you’re a man of your word then, or something,” Mick replied with a crooked smile of his own, still feeling a little disconnected.
“Yes, ‘or something’.”
Words flowed easy between them, the way they always had, but the silences themselves seemed occupied now as well. Several hours passed, until Josef reluctantly suggested they call it a night.
“You need me to walk you to the door?” Josef offered, tongue in cheek, as they pulled up out the front of Mick’s apartment building.
“Sure,” Mick affected an appreciative smile as he called Josef’s bluff, “at least to the front entrance.”
They began to say their goodbyes on the sidewalk then.
“I suppose I should thank you for a very…educational evening,” Mick began with a wry smile.
“Always happy to help a friend in need,” Josef parried with exaggerated false modesty.
Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head. For now it seemed it was back to business as usual. “So what are your plans for the rest of the evening? Sun doesn’t come up until 5.30.”
“I thought I might go and paint the town red.” Josef grinned, and flourished an extravagant hand.
“I take it you mean that literally, in the blood sense, of course.”
“Of course. You know me, Mick, since when did I ever do things by halves. I’ll catch you tomorrow night.”
Josef turned to take his leave then.
“Josef.” Mick called after Josef’s retreating form.
Josef turned back, “What?”
“What I said back there, tonight -my fears…”
“…Doesn’t matter,” Josef smiled, and waved a dismissive hand, “that’s a conversation that can wait until you’re ready. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got all the time in the world, “Josef pretended to adopt a steadfast tone then, “although I expect we might have to look at revising our agreement, once a century or more ticks by.”
Always the clown prince, Mick chuckled to himself as he watched Josef turn once more, and begin to saunter away down the street. Something between them had shifted though, Mick could sense it; behind the quick smiles, and easy banter, something deeper had been acknowledged.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Mick called after Josef once more.
Josef turned around one final time, continuing to walk backwards as he did so; his hands stuffed jauntily into pockets - the line of his mouth drawn into his usual trademark grin.
“I always do."
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: NC17
Warnings: BDSM - public bloodplay, mild domination/submission, consensual restraint, orgasm denial/control, flogging, waxplay, anal fisting, some voyeurism - mentions also of erotic cutting, and Japanese rope bondage.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's curiosity for BDSM is aroused, after he ends up being reluctantly dragged to a Dungeon party on assignment. A lot more than Mick's potential for kink ends up being revealed.
Author's Note: Written especially by request for Jksgirl.
posted to moonlight_slash and smallfandomfest
-------------------------------------------------------
Eyes closed, Mick concentrated on his breathing - inhale, exhale. Josef stood above him, resplendent in red velvet and leather; a cat ‘o’ nine tails flogger wielded in each hand. Arching his back, Mick grimaced, and tensed against the titanium strength chains that bound him, as Josef trailed the ends of the flogger’s leather falls across his chest, and then landed another series of blows.
Pleasure and pain, Mick, it’s all the same; only the application of stimulus varies
A steady rhythm could be heard droning in the background; and once again Mick had to wonder - how on earth had Josef managed to talk him into this?
A week earlier, the DA’s office had asked him to play body guard to one of their star witnesses in a murder case, a man by the name of James Delaware. Mick hadn’t bothered to ask whether that was the man’s real name.
James Delaware had proved to be more of a handful than Mick had been expecting. “I’m going out, this is my regular night,” he’d announced one evening out of the blue; no rhyme or reason, and no further explanation.
And that’s how Mick had found himself a not so willing tagalong at Elysium Dungeon; trying his best to simultaneously fade into the background, and look like he actually belonged there.
Different scenes had played out in front of him - the intricacies of Japanese rope bondage, the savage beauty of Florentine style flogging - eventually Mick had found himself staring hungrily as a couple in front of him shallow sliced patterns across their flesh, and smeared rich, coppery scented blood over one another’s body.
Mick had felt his fangs descend, had tried his best to ignore the sweat that dripped down his back, the raw, aching need that made his mouth water.
“That’s not a good idea,” A hand had reached for Mick in the darkness, clamping down firm on his shoulder.
“Josef, what are you doing here?” Josef had been the last person Mick expected to see. His brow furrowing, Mick had regarded his friend standing alongside him with genuine puzzlement.
“I could ask you the same thing?” Josef had raised a facetious eyebrow, and prodded the end of a pointed finger into Mick’s chest.
Mick had shifted defensive then. “I’m on assignment, it’s not like I actually want to be here.”
“Pity,” Josef had raised another eyebrow at Mick’s response, dismissive this time; he’d seen the look in Mick’s eyes, the curiosity that burned there. “Come and see me tomorrow night.”
Satisfied he wasn’t about to publicly vamp out, and reveal their secret, Josef had left Mick to his own devices then, sauntering off with a casual “enjoy the rest of your evening” thrown over his shoulder.
The following evening, Mick appeared on Josef’s door step.
“Can I come in?” Mick shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other; as Josef leant elegantly against the frame of the door way - legs crossed at the ankles, and arms folded across his chest - and regarded Mick’s presence with a burlesque smile.
“Of course,” Josef ushered Mick inside.
“I wasn’t expecting to run into you last night,” Mick cleared his throat, and sat on the couch where Josef had indicated.
“Clearly,” Josef tittered with amusement as he pressed a glass of freshly poured blood into Mick’s hand, and then took a seat opposite.
Mick swirled the contents of his drink, and fixed a distracted eye on it crimson depths. “So do you, ah…”
“…Go there often?” Josef finished with overtones of exaggerated helpfulness. “Sometimes, as the mood takes me.”
“What do you get out of it?” Mick sat forward then, his brow lined with question as he shifted his gaze towards Josef.
“Power, control, pleasure - a connection that goes beyond the mundane,” Josef shrugged, and waved a casual hand through the air in front of him. “Pleasure and pain, Mick, it’s all the same; only the application of stimulus varies. I take it you’re not working tonight then?”
Josef smiled as he took a sip of his own drink, and peered over the rim of the glass.
“No,” Mick shook his head, and looked relieved at the momentary shift in conversation. “They’re moving him around; another PI’s taking over as bodyguard.”
“Lucky for you,” Josef half raised the glass in his hand, and then set it to one side.
“I’m sorry?”
“The Dungeon’s holding a private party tonight, only the best people, cream of the crop as they say. I have tickets.” Josef spoke as if he were commenting on little more than a matter of passing interest.
“And you’d like me to go with you.” Mick sat back, the line of his mouth drawn into a smile that said ‘I knew that was coming’.
“I saw the look on your face last night, Mick, Josef offered Mick a knowing smile, “Your curiosity was piqued as much as your blood lust.”
“Maybe.” Mick averted his eyes, one leg jiggling nervously as he toyed with the glass in his hand. And then he was on his feet, chest puffed out, and thumb jerked towards the door with more bravado than he felt. “Alright, let’s go.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Josef quipped as he swept past to get ready.
“Do they know what we are?” Mick glanced around at Elysium’s gathered patrons; all clad in various states of undress, leather and chains the apparent uniform of choice; as they made their way along a smoke filled, red lit corridor.
“Some do,” Josef spoke over his shoulder, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the rhythmic din of music that bounced off the walls around them. “Invitation only nights we can be a lot more open.”
“Are we the only ones here tonight then?”
“Probably,” Josef shrugged, and took hold of Mick’s hand, guiding him through the throng. “At least it means we won’t have to share.”
“Share?” Mick stopped in his tracks, and looked at Josef askance. “Who said anything about sharing?”
“Well I wasn’t planning on passing you around like a well-used dishrag, if that’s what you mean,” Josef replied mildly, and then snaked a hand around the back of Mick’s neck, his fingers working casually along the knots of nervous tension he found there. “Just relax; nothing’s going to happen here tonight unless you want it to. We make an appearance, we stand on the sidelines and watch a few shows, and then we leave, all without you having to dip your fangs in, if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, alright,” Mick mustered a slightly embarrassed smile, his teeth working distractedly over his bottom lip, “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“…It doesn’t matter,” Josef interjected with a casual smile of his own, and the dismissive wave of a hand - a reassuring elbow nudged briefly into the side of Mick’s ribcage, “You’re cautious, controlled; hey I get that; I could probably take a leaf or two out of your book at times, Mick.”
“Really?” Mick looked surprised; Josef Kostan, he who could do no wrong, not that he’d admit to at least, confessing that he just might have something to learn from a Vampire centuries younger than himself - Mick wondered if this was what they referred to as a ‘red letter day’.
And then Josef was sweeping Mick into his arms, spiriting him past those who were milling around, carrying him towards an open play area at the back of the dungeon.
The spotlights that hung over the assortment of benches, and cross beams, gave an illusion of the area being far better lit than what it actually was. Outside those circles of light the rest of the dungeon remained shrouded in smoke, and a dark lit red glow.
Josef slipped into the shadows, gesturing for Mick to do the same; in front of them a small crowd gathered in a semi-circle around one of the benches.
A plastic drop cloth had been placed on the ground; the wooden bench itself covered likewise. Mick watched as a leather-studded, and thigh high boot clad female approached another lying naked and supine on the polymer surface.
Mick leant closer, and tried to whisper out the side of his mouth. “What are they…?”
“Sh,” Josef pressed an index finger to his lips, and then drew his arms around Mick’s waist; his chin rested near Mick’s shoulder. “Just watch.”
The scent of antiseptic wipes filled Mick’s nostrils; and then the glint of a blade - Mick drew a sharp breath at the sight of sterilised flesh parting to reveal a flower of crimson underneath.
Josef’s breath fanned hot against the side of Mick’s neck, his voice whispering seduction. “I will take you places you have never been; I will show you things that you have never seen. And I will watch the life run out of you.”
Mick had a vague recollection of the line being from an old movie; wherever it was from it seemed apt for the scene unfolding before him. The blood was running in tiny rivulets now, leaving jagged red trails over the girl’s skin as it dripped onto the plastic cloth below.
“Jesus,” Mick’s fangs descended; he looked around, trying to see if anyone else was responding to that flow of crimson with the same hungered fascination. Mick was surprised to note there were quite a few, and not all of them were Vampires - the blood seemed to hold some sort of erotic sway over those present. “People actually get into this?”
“Some do,” Josef waited until he’d caught the eye of the top, one eyebrow raised in a questioning arc. And then his hand was trailing a path along Mick’s front, stopping just at the top of Mick’s jeans. Josef quickly undid the fastenings he found there, and then slipped his hand inside.
Mick groaned, and arched into the sensation. In front of him a latex gloved hand was being dipped in blood, crimson patterns smeared across a back drop of pale skin.
“I think you and I need to find somewhere a little more private.” Josef’s lips were working along the side of Mick’s throat now, his fangs occasionally pricking the sensitive skin, leaving tiny pinprick droplets of blood.
Mick barely registered Josef’s words. His eyes still transfixed on what was before them. Josef’s hand tugged at Mick’s sleeve, bidding him to come away.
“So what now?” Mick looked around the room Josef had lead them to - the walls painted black with red trim, various wooden and metal restraint posts all around.
“That’s up to you,” Josef leant casually against one of the posts, observing Mick’s demeanour.
“I thought you were supposed to get all dominant, and boss me around,” Mick tongue in cheeked, as he walked over to a box on a low table, and opened the lid.
“You know it’s usually polite to ask, before you go handling someone’s toys,” Josef snipped, and then took the cat ‘o’ nine tails flogger, Mick had drawn out, from his hands.
Mick muttered a sheepish apology, and the pointed to the black leather object, “That looks like something the Marquis De Sade would have used.”
“It is something the Marquis De Sade would have used.” Josef displayed the item proudly, “I had them handmade in Paris over two hundred years ago; they’re a matching pair.”
“That long ago?” Mick raised an eyebrow at the length of time.
“What, you think any of this is a modern phenomenon?” Josef laughed, and shook his head, “People have always been kinky, Mick.” Josef shifted into Mick’s space then, his arms drawn around Mick’s neck, lips pressed against Mick’s ear. “Would you let me use them on you?”
“I don’t know,” Mick sounded uncertain, his curiosity still piqued, “maybe?”
“Maybe? Kneel.” Josef set a hand on Mick’s shoulder, forcing Mick to his knees, “This is that bossing you around bit you seem so keen on,” grinning, Josef placed the handle of the cat ‘o’ nine tails under Mick’s chin, directing Mick’s attention towards his. “What are you afraid of?”
Mick looked at Josef, incredulous. “Pain, for a start.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mick,” Josef caressed a hand over the top of Mick’s head; “I like you far too much to ever want to hurt you. It’s just…”
“…An application of stimulus.”
“Exactly.”
“So what happened to standing on the sidelines, and then leaving; without me getting my fangs wet?” Mick threw down a challenge then. Part of him hoped Josef would rise to the occasion, take charge, tell him how he should think, and feel - take the decision out of his hands; somehow Mick knew that wasn’t the way it was going to happen, Josef needed his consent.
“You can leave if you want to, Mick,” Josef’s hand brushed the side of Mick’s face, and then cupped Mick’s chin, “I won’t force you do anything you don’t want to; trust me, it’s really no fun that way.”
Mick studied Josef’s face, his forehead lined with contemplation; and then he was pressing the palm of Josef’s hand against his lips, and nodding, “Okay.” The last thing he wanted was Josef thinking he was too uptight; he’d never hear the end of it, and besides, curiosity had got the better of him; Mick wanted to know what was behind those rapturous expressions he’d observed.
“Stand up,” Josef issued a snap toned directive, summoning Mick to his feet. His hands went to the front of Mick’s shirt, fingers working deftly along a row of buttons; Mick’s shirt undone, Josef slipped the garment from Mick’s shoulders, and then turned his attention to Mick’s jeans. Mick stood passive throughout, shivering every so often under Josef’s touch.
“So what now,” Mick stepped out of his jeans and underwear, kicked off his shoes and socks; tried to look far more confident than what he felt, standing there naked and exposed, as he awaited instruction.
“Don’t be in such in a hurry,” Josef chided, as he circled Mick’s form, admiring the view from all angles. And then he was shifting into Mick’s space once again, his arms drawn around Mick’s shoulders from behind this time; his lips pressed once more against Mick’s ear, whispering low. “By the time we’re through, I’ll know exactly what it is you’re afraid of, and you’ll have come so hard you’ll have forgotten your own name.”
Mick let out on involuntary groan at the sound of Josef’s words. He lent back into Josef’s embrace, head turned slightly, his mouth seeking Josef’s for a fervent clashing of lips and fangs. Josef drew his arm tighter across Mick’s chest, deepened the kiss awhile, his hand teasing just above the line of Mick’s crotch. And then he was relinquishing his hold, and pointing to a bench with metal restraints.
“Over there,” Josef instructed, “and lie down, face up.” Josef waited for Mick to follow his command, and then joined him, running his hands along Mick’s arms, stretching them above Mick’s head; Mick’s wrists, and ankles shackled in place. “Has anyone ever told you how magnificent you are?” Josef ran a nonchalant finger down the line of Mick’s torso, and then back again, pausing to roll one of one Mick’s nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinching just hard enough to elicit a sharp hiss of surprise.
Josef’s hand continued back on a downwards trajectory, his fingers teasing along Mick’s abdomen - and then seeking lower. Josef stopped when he reached Mick’s cock, and wrapped a firm hand around the base of Mick’s shaft.
“Oh - Jesus,” Mick gritted his teeth, and let a stifled cry of pleasure; as Josef lowered his head, and took Mick’s cock deep into his mouth, his tongue performing an intricate ballet back and forth along Mick’s shaft, and over his glans. Mick began to relax. So far, all Josef had done was chain him to a bench, and proceed to give him one of the best blow jobs he’d had in memory - living or otherwise.
Within minutes Mick felt his balls tighten, and draw up closer to his body. His breathing fell ragged, muscles tensed; his whole body stretched taut and exquisite. And then Josef did the unthinkable. With impeccable timing he stopped, right as Mick was on the very brink of orgasm.
“Hey, what the hell…”
Josef cut Mick’s protest short, with a hand clamped over his mouth. “You don’t get to say when,” Josef crooned in Mick’s ear, “Not until I say so.”
Josef waited until Mick had swallowed back rising nerves, and nodded his assent, before returning his attentions to Mick’s now straining erection. Again he followed the same pattern as before - and again, and again - until Mick began to lose track of time, and himself.
And then Josef stopped altogether, drew a blindfold over Mick’s eyes, and then drew up a nearby seat, and sat down; Mick almost swore he could hear Josef grinning as he did so.
“So what happens now?” Mick asked a few moments later, wondering at Josef’s sudden, apparent lack of interest.
“Patience, Mick,” Josef replied, “Anticipation is half the fun.”
Mick heard the spark of a lighter then, the fizzle of a candle wick being lit. Fire was deadly to a Vampire; even the smallest of flames was enough to cause harm. They’d discussed the use of safety words earlier in the evening; now Mick found himself blurting the word out without thinking.
“Mercy.”
Immediately the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, Josef appeared all business as he took the blindfold from Mick’s eyes, and began releasing the restraints around his ankles and wrists.
“No, wait,” Josef halted what he was doing, and waited for Mick to continue. “I’m sorry,” Mick sounded a little embarrassed as he spoke, “you just freaked me out with the whole flame thing; call it an instinctual response.”
“Mick,” Josef snorted a laugh and then covered Mick’s hand with his own. “Do you really think I’m going to try and burn you to death with a candle? That’s far too understated for my liking. If I was planning on doing ‘that’, I’d bring a blow torch in here, or a flamethrower; you know, something with a bit of pizazz.” Josef winked conspiratorially, and then gave Mick’s hand a quick squeeze of reassurance.
“Yeah, alright.” Again that same embarrassed tone; deep down though Mick had to admit he was glad of Josef’s response, before that there had been a nagging voice of doubt in the back of Mick’s mind. Now he found himself relaxing more, willing to go with the flow.
“Are you ok to continue?”
Mick gave a quick nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Josef lowered his eyes, and gave Mick an off-centred smile, his voice brimming with overtones of exaggerated concern.
“Actually, now that you mention it,” Mick put on the best pitiful look he could muster, all doe eyed innocence, and hang dog face; as he gestured his head toward his crotch. “Maybe I could use just a little more reassurance.”
“Nice try,” Josef snorted a derisive laugh, and clicked the metal cuffs back into place, “you’re fine.”
Josef decided to dispense with the hot wax for now, setting the candle to one side, and drawing out one of the floggers instead. He trailed the ends of the leather falls across Mick’s chest, and down along Mick’s abdomen; his free hand followed suit.
Mick groaned as Josef wrapped a firm hand around his cock once more, and began to pump his length in a succession of quick, hard strokes - his thumb occasionally circling the head, heightening sensation.
Within seconds Mick was tensing with anticipation, certain that this time Josef was going to let him finish. He was close - oh Jesus bloody fuck he was so close; Josef’s hand was moving faster now, his movements becoming more focused; Mick felt himself perched on a knife’s edge. And then…
“Fuck!”
…Josef squeezed with thumb and forefinger, just below the head of Mick’s cock - effectively stopping Mick’s orgasm in its tracks.
“Do you want me to beg, is that it?” Mick snapped in frustration.
“You can try,” Josef stood nonchalant; the flogger in his hand trailed casually back and forth across Mick’s skin, “but it wouldn’t do you any good.” Josef bent his lips to Mick’s ear then, and whispered a heated instruction. “Close your eyes, and remember to breathe.”
The first blow was delivered light; still Mick flinched at the sensation. Josef waited for the initial shock of adrenalin to subside, resuming his same languid trailing as before, and then delivered another strike; gradually building a steady rhythm, the intensity increased with each past.
Eyes closed, Mick concentrated on his breathing - inhale, exhale. Josef wielded a flogger in each hand now; a flood of endorphins coming swift on the end of those falls, as he worked Florentine style across Mick’s chest, and then over his thighs.
How on earth had Josef managed to talk him into this? Mick wondered, as he strained against his restraints, and listened to the drone of a steady rhythm playing in the background. The sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant; then again Mick wouldn’t have exactly described it as pleasurable either - not in the vernacular at least. It was painful, yet exquisite; jolting, and yet comforting - his senses heightened, and yet remained cocooned in a warm haze - all at the same time. The atmosphere in the room seemed to electrify; Mick found himself locked in an intricate exchange of energy, and connection.
Josef began dripping hot wax over Mick’s chest and abdomen then; grinning at the sharp hisses of breath each drop elicited from Mick. Josef waited until he was sure Mick was floating high on an endorphin buzz, and then unlocked the metal cuffs around Mick’s ankles, chaining Mick instead to a spreader bar that hung low over the bench.
“I need you to relax for me, ok?” Josef’s manner shifted then; Mick could have sworn he sounded almost nurturing, the kindly mentor tutoring his favourite student through a particularly arduous task. Mick chortled at the mental image, trying to cover nerves that were rising just as fast as expectation.
Mick’s knees were pressed back against his chest, leaving him exposed. Josef coated one hand with organic grease, and then smoothed the other over the top of Mick’s head, repeating his prior instruction.
And then Josef was pressing a single digit against Mick’s hole, and slowly pushing forward, penetrating his space.
Josef waited until Mick had relaxed through the initial entry, and then carefully added a second finger.
“Relax,” Josef soothed once more, and added a third, and then a fourth; rings of muscle and fibre gradually stretched, as he crooned his reassurances. “What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing,” Mick growled through near animalistic vocalisations of pleasure.
“Bullshit.” Josef smiled, and formed his fingers into the shape of an arrow, before slipping in his thumb, and pressing forward slowly once more. ‘What are you afraid of?” Josef asked again, his voice calm and measured in the face of Mick’s increasingly guttural tones.
Mick’s whole body shook with the onslaught of sensation, his breath coming in short, staccato pants.
“I know you’re afraid of something, Mick,” Mick whimpered and mewled as Josef worked his hand inside his arse, “I’m kind of perceptive that way.”
Mick was beside himself in that moment, desperate for release. Somewhere amidst his haze of pleasure, his mind still raced with a myriad of thoughts, and emotions.
Lie, beg - figure out what he wants you to say...
“…Oh Christ, alright!” What came out instead was the truth. “You want to know what I’m afraid of?” Mick spoke with all the earnestness borne of desperation, “I’m afraid of you. You make me want to be a Vampire. I’m afraid of wanting to be with you, because it means accepting myself the way I am.”
Josef gave a triumphant smile, and then pressed his wrist to Mick’s mouth, uttering a singular command.
“Come.”
And then Mick was falling into a near frenzy as he sank his fangs hard enough into Josef’s flesh to hear the sound of enamel crunching against bone, and felt the world slip away.
Josef waited until Mick had regained his senses, the last residual pulsations of orgasm slowly fading away, and then released him from his restraints.
Immediately Mick tried to sit up, only to find himself lying supine again just as quickly.
“Whoa,” Josef immediately moved to Mick’s side. “Don’t try and get up too soon, your equilibrium’s gonna need a little more time than that to adjust to such mundane things as standing upright.”
Josef lifted Mick onto the floor then, and stretched out alongside him.
“Told you by the time we were finished I was going to know exactly what you’re afraid, and you were going to come so hard you’d forget your own name.” Josef’s teasing; off-centred smile was perilously close to a smirk, as he brushed a tender finger along the line of Mick’s jaw.
“I guess this proves you’re a man of your word then, or something,” Mick replied with a crooked smile of his own, still feeling a little disconnected.
“Yes, ‘or something’.”
Words flowed easy between them, the way they always had, but the silences themselves seemed occupied now as well. Several hours passed, until Josef reluctantly suggested they call it a night.
“You need me to walk you to the door?” Josef offered, tongue in cheek, as they pulled up out the front of Mick’s apartment building.
“Sure,” Mick affected an appreciative smile as he called Josef’s bluff, “at least to the front entrance.”
They began to say their goodbyes on the sidewalk then.
“I suppose I should thank you for a very…educational evening,” Mick began with a wry smile.
“Always happy to help a friend in need,” Josef parried with exaggerated false modesty.
Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head. For now it seemed it was back to business as usual. “So what are your plans for the rest of the evening? Sun doesn’t come up until 5.30.”
“I thought I might go and paint the town red.” Josef grinned, and flourished an extravagant hand.
“I take it you mean that literally, in the blood sense, of course.”
“Of course. You know me, Mick, since when did I ever do things by halves. I’ll catch you tomorrow night.”
Josef turned to take his leave then.
“Josef.” Mick called after Josef’s retreating form.
Josef turned back, “What?”
“What I said back there, tonight -my fears…”
“…Doesn’t matter,” Josef smiled, and waved a dismissive hand, “that’s a conversation that can wait until you’re ready. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got all the time in the world, “Josef pretended to adopt a steadfast tone then, “although I expect we might have to look at revising our agreement, once a century or more ticks by.”
Always the clown prince, Mick chuckled to himself as he watched Josef turn once more, and begin to saunter away down the street. Something between them had shifted though, Mick could sense it; behind the quick smiles, and easy banter, something deeper had been acknowledged.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Mick called after Josef once more.
Josef turned around one final time, continuing to walk backwards as he did so; his hands stuffed jauntily into pockets - the line of his mouth drawn into his usual trademark grin.
“I always do."