|6.1 Oz. Red Glass Heart Bottle|
(clipped to polyvore.com)
Happy Valentine's Day! I wrote this piece for R.B. Wood's WordCount Podcast, but it didn't quite fit his theme for the show, so instead, I'm posting it here for everyone to read. And you want to hear me read it, just leave a comment. I'm happy to do that. ;)
Those of you who have read Blue Moon House should remember Justin and Will.
Justin checked the stopper on the bottle as he pulled it from the fridge. The wax he’d poured over the cork was holding and inverting the bottle produced no leaks. Tucking it into his pocket, he pulled out his phone instead.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Buddy, he sent to his son Joseph.
You too, Dad.
Justin had expected his ex to leave the boy with him this weekend so she could have a romantic evening with her current squeeze. Most likely, he’d gotten stuck with his kids. That left Justin free to accept Will’s offer for the evening.
The phone went back into the pocket, clanking against the glass. Justin normally walked to Will’s, but he didn’t want to take that long. So he started up his worn down old Kia and trundled across town. He put his hand in his pocket once more, feeling the cool glass. Good, it hadn’t warmed up too much.
He didn’t knock on the door, opening it as he had many Fridays before. As it always did, the smell of the house bombarded him. It was kept clean, but the musky smell of sex never really left. He imagined it had seeped into wood and stone. Breathing deep, he walked slowly down the hall to Will’s room. It was empty, as it usually was. Justin removed the bottle, setting it on the armoire while he stripped down to skin. He folded it all and set it on the only empty shelf. After giving it another shake, he tucked the bottle under his shirt, right on top.
From there he ran his hand over the contents of the other shelves. First were manacles, chains, and thick rope. The rope was soft and silky, much warmer than the metal of the others. There were coils and coils of both. More than enough to string a man up any way he liked.
The next shelf was better. It was almost entirely metal with a few pieces of wood. Two wooden paddles lay beside vise grips, pliers, knives of various sizes and lengths. Justin picked up one of these, testing the edge. Frowning, he pulled out the stropping leather from the bottom of the armoire and used it, nodding in satisfaction when it split the skin of his thumb. He sucked at the wound while he put the knife away and tried the edge of another. It was in the process of sharpening the third blade that Will entered.
Justin set knife atop leather and dropped to his knees. “Master,” he said.
“Finish,” Will commanded, moving to stand behind Justin.
Justin rose smoothly and turned back to the knife. While he ran knife over leather, Will traced line after line on Justin’s skin.
“So many scars,” Will murmured, his black finger running down Justin’s pale pink bicep. “How many more will we add tonight?”
“As many as you wish, Master.” Justin replied. Will continued to work around Justin’s body, spending a lot of time on his thighs. That was where Justin had cut himself a hundred times over in his youth and then through his failing marriage. It had been a relief to put his pain in the safe hands of Will. He would never cut too deep, never hurt Justin more than he could handle. They had reached that limit more than once over the last six years.
Finished with knife, he twisted slightly to see the large black man kissing up the inside of his thigh. Justin closed his eyes at the soft moist lips so close to his growing erection. Will ran his tongue along that scar, straight up the underside of his penis. It was one of the most recent and to do it safely, Will had trussed Justin up in all the chain and rope he could. Even then, there was a slight jag to the line where Justin had managed to wrench himself.
“I think, perhaps, none tonight.”
Justin’s heart sank slightly. Sex without pain was never as fulfilling to him.
Will must have noticed because he stood and glared at Justin. “You believe you know better?”
“No,” Justin answered, but it was petulant. A reflex reply, not the rapt obedience he usually showed.
“You do,” Will said, taking hold of Justin’s chin to look directly into the other man’s eyes. Will towered four inches over Justin and he was much more muscular. None of that mattered. After that gaze, Justin wouldn’t struggle anyway.
“No.” This time the word was said sweetly, with all his heart. He trusted Will with his life. Will did know better as he had proven in the past.
“Good.” Will kissed Justin, breaking it off before it grew into something more. He stepped around Justin to reach into the armoire. “Put your hands on the door.”
Justin tried to glimpse what Will was grabbing while turning to face the door. Two leather straps hung down from the frame over the back of the door. Slipping his hands through them he spread his fingers, palms flat on the wood.
Will kicked his legs apart and Justin spread his toes, planting his weight solidly into each foot, rooting himself to the floor. He had learned he needed that grounding.
The crack of the paddle wasn’t completely unexpected, but Justin screamed and jumped anyway. It might have been a knife or the stropping leather or any of several other items in the armoire, but it was one of the wooden paddles.
Heat flared in Justin’s ass and he sucked air through his teeth as he shifted his feet, grounding again. “Thank you,” he whispered when he had gathered his wits about him.
Will didn’t say anything, but the paddle connected again. This time Justin didn’t scream, but he grunted and pulled on the leather. His feet stayed grounded and he recovered more quickly even though the pain had increased significantly. “Thank you.”
Will didn’t stop there. After the sixth stroke and the sixth thank you, Will pressed himself against Justin’s back pushing him into the door. His black hand clasped Justin’s hard length before it was pinned. The other hand clenched Justin’s throat.
Justin groaned and surrendered his weight to Will. The constriction on his throat made him see stars, made him kick the door with his knee, made the blood rushing through him boil. The last thing before he passed out, he felt himself throbbing, erupting, and falling.
Justin blinked in the soft light. He looked directly into Will’s eyes, felt his hand on his back, stroking gently.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Will said.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Justin answered. “I brought you something.”
Will sat up. “What would you bring me?”
Justin didn’t feel quite well enough to rise. “It’s in the armoire, under my shirt.”
Will climbed off the bed and opened the armoire, pulling out the heart shaped glass bottle. He stared at it for a few seconds before breaking the wax seal and draining its contents in three gulps, eyes closed and savoring the flavor. Justin used all his will power to swing his legs over the bed and be standing next to Will when he opened his eyes.
“My bloody valentine,” Justin explained.
The vampire seized him in a hug. “Thank you.”