Nick couldn’t remember being any happier in his life than
since boarding the plane and leaving
But that was all behind them for the next two weeks.
Nick had taken a page from Greg’s book of ‘How To Relax Your Master’ and
formally enrolled them both to the Mile High Club on the trip over. Twice. The
rest of the time had been spent drowsing and cuddling with Nick curled up on
Gil’s lap, a blanket around them both.
The moment they’d checked into their exquisitely
luxurious rooms in an old-fashioned Pensione in Roma, Gil had shoved him down
on the bed. He’d Claimed Nick then and there, brutal in his passion and
merciless in his drive to make Nick come, over and over again. They’d ordered
in room service, that night and the next day. It wasn’t until the day after
that, that Nick was up to moving around and they’d started exploring the city.
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, but not too
hot as they strolled along the narrow, winding cobblestone street. They walked
slowly and Nick took the opportunity to lean on his Master whenever he could,
which was pretty much always. The crowds weren’t too bad, as it was a little
early in the tourist season, and Nick enjoyed the velvet words of Italian
spoken by his Master as he interacted with the locals. While Italian was the
primary language throughout the Empire, with English a close second, the
opposite was true in the
They stopped for lunch at a little café, and even
though Gil held his hand across the small, outdoor table, it felt too far a
distance.
“Now stop that,” Gil ordered, smiling indulgently.
Nick sighed. “Stop what, Master?”
“Pouting,” Gil replied, blue eyes twinkling. “It’s
only until we’re done eating, then you can curl up on me all you want.”
That brought up a grin and Nick asked, “Promise?”
“Prometto, il mio amore.”
No translation needed, really, and this time Nick
sighed with happiness.
* * * *
Gil couldn’t help but stare into the hazel eyes that
stared back at him with such longing. Gods
Above, he’s going to kill me, Gil thought as lust once again heated through
his body. He’d practically savaged Nick in his need for the slave, making him
scream in pleasure and pain, making Nick bleed from his cock and the bite marks
on his shoulder and back. If anyone looked at the bruises and new scars
covering Nick’s body, they would think he was horribly abused.
A nearly panicked voice rose nearby, catching his
ear as a man exclaimed frantically, “Non mento! Per favore, non mento!”
Frowning, Gil canted his head and found a young
slave on his knees, clearly begging the men who surrounded him. It looked ugly,
like the man could easily find his death, and brought Gil to his feet. He
glanced at Nick and ordered in a hard voice, “Don’t move,” then strode over to
intervene. Barging through the men at the back, Gil stood between the slave and
the man who had a club in hand, raised to strike. In Italian, he demanded,
“What are you doing? What has this slave done to deserve a death blow?”
“He is a lying whore, an escaped slave who refuses
me!” the man answered harshly, lowering the club only slightly. “I found him,
he is mine to do with as I please!”
The slave gripped Gil’s arm tightly, forehead
pressed to his arm, and begged in Italian, “Please Master, please save me! I
didn’t run away, I swear! I’m only lost, I would never leave my own Master
willingly. Please help me!”
Gil shifted his hand to cup the slave’s chin and
tilted his head up so that he could see the man’s face. It was a handsome face
and, looking down into the frightened, but earnest blue eyes, Gil knew that the
man told the truth. Add to that the expensive Chain around his neck, easily as
expensive as Nick’s, and Gil knew this was no ordinary slave, but a prized one.
He gave a reassuring, if brief, smile and gazed back at the freeman who still
held the club. “I’m taking this slave under my protection until I can find his
Master.”
“You can’t do that!” the man snarled. “I found him,
he’s mine!”
Drawing up to his full height, Gil eyed him
disdainfully and said, “You shouldn’t presume to tell me what I can, and can’t,
do. If I were you, I would turn around and be thankful that only your ego was
bruised in this encounter.”
The club lowered, but the chin rose stubbornly. “I
demand satisfaction from being refused! It is my right, no matter who you are!”
“And how would you demand your satisfaction, as he
appears quite unwilling to bend over for you. Shall I make him?” Gil
questioned. The hand on his arm tightened at that and Gil wished he could show
the slave that he was safe, but he didn’t dare reveal a hint of what could be
considered weakness. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to do so. Pick another form
of satisfaction, if you would press the issue.”
“I wish him beaten.”
Gil looked down at the man on his knees and there
was an imperceptible nod, as if the slave were accustomed to taking physical
pain. Depending on his situation, maybe he was. It was clearly an acceptable
alternative to being raped in public to the slave, but sure as Hades not for
Gil. Shaking his head, Gil answered simply, “No.”
The man shouted, “It is my right! I demand
satisfaction!”
Gil had been planning on paying the man off, but
could see that that wasn’t going to work anymore. The man didn’t want to be
bought off, he was intent on seeing the slave damaged in some way. There was an
ugly murmur from the crowd and Gil knew that he couldn’t take them all. He
could account for three or four of them, but not seven or eight.
Then Nick pushed through the crowd, showing
aggression and looming, intimidating and large over the natives. His broad
chest and muscled body were shown off in the partially unbuttoned, clingy
cotton shirt and his hands hung easy and ready by his side. He looked like a
pissed-off bouncer that you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley as he took up
position beside Gil in a silent, but clear, threat. The slave on the ground
couldn’t fight back, but Nick could more than step in, in defense of his
Master, even against freemen.
Fury that he’d been disobeyed mixed with fear that
Nick would be hurt as well as satisfaction that his slave hadn’t hesitated to
step up to his defense. That didn’t mean Nick was going to get his ass beaten
black and blue for disobeying him and putting himself in such danger, though.
“God damn it! Get the fuck out of my way before I
cave your head in!” a new voice snarled.
The slave’s head whipped over at the voice and even
though he didn’t move, Gil knew he wanted to run to the man who shoved his way
through the crowd. This was clearly the slave’s Master. He turned out to be
around Gil’s height, but spare and lean, with close-cut military hair and
piercing blue eyes that instantly sought out his slave. The look was held for
only a moment before the slave dropped to his face, arms stretched on the stone
before him, giving obeisance to his Master.
The man looked at Gil next, taking in his protective
stance, and then Nick was last. From there, he gazed at the freeman, cutting
him apart with his eyes as he stood in front of all three men. “You want my
slave beaten for refusing to dishonor me?”
The words were quiet, and in English, but there was
no mistaking the menace.
Swallowing nervously, the freeman nonetheless nodded
and replied in English, “He should not have refused me. He was alone, held no
papers nor pass to be such, I found him. It is my right, perentorio mio, to do
with him as I wish, and he refused me!”
The Master stepped up close to the freeman, somehow
managing to loom over a man of the same height and breadth, and said, “I would
reconsider that, if I were you. If I have to beat my slave for a reason not of
my own choosing, I get…annoyed. And when I get annoyed, well, I tend to take it
out on those nearby. You, are nearby.”
Paling despite his olive skin, the freeman finally
backed down. His gaze lowered and he muttered, “It’s fine, I apologize, of
course you can punish him how you see fit.”
“Thank you.”
The dryness was like sandpaper rubbed together, but
the crowd dispersed. When the last man turned and walked away, Gil found
himself on the receiving end of that intense gaze and wasn’t in the least
surprised that the freeman had backed down.
“Thank you.”
This time, the words were sincere and warm,
startling Gil with the quicksilver change in tone. He smiled and held out a
hand. “Gil Grissom, and you’re welcome.”
The man looked a little surprised himself as he
observed, “You’re American? And it’s Jethro Gibbs. That sorry slave with his
face in the mud is Tony.”
Which reminded him. Gil’s hand reached out and
clamped down on Nick’s shoulder, pushing the bigger man to his knees. Pressing
painfully tight as a promise and a threat, Gil answered, “I am. And this is
Nick.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink,”
Gibbs said, feelingly.
Gil nodded emphatically. “I could definitely do with
a drink. Come on. I’ve got a table.”
When they reached the two-person table, both slaves
trailing miserably behind their Masters, Gil sat and waved for a waiter. Nick
knelt beside him, as Tony did beside Gibbs, but neither Master looked at their
slave.
The punishment had already begun.
* * * *
“Strip. On your face.”
Nick instantly undressed and dropped to the floor,
trembling as he made his obeisance, arms outstretched, forehead and nose to the
cool wooden floor. His Master’s voice was cold as ice and he hadn’t once
touched Nick on the walk back to the Pensione. The other slave and his Master
had parted ways with them only ten minutes ago, the two Masters promising to
get together once their respective slaves had been dealt with.
“Do you know why I’m going to punish you?”
Fearful, Nick whispered, “I disobeyed you.”
“I can’t hear you, slave!”
Nick jumped at the harsh words and repeated, louder,
“I disobeyed you, Master!”
“Yes, you did. And while you’re going to regret it,
there’s something more important that needs to be addressed.”
After a brief silence, Nick asked, “W-what, Master?”
“You put yourself in danger, slave. You may look big
and tough but we both know better. You have absolutely no training, no idea how
to defend yourself or anyone else. If there really had been a fight, and there
might have been, I would have had to worry about myself and two slaves, which would have been all our downfalls. So, by
putting yourself in danger, you risked all of us. I can’t have you disobeying
me, slave, I won’t. You know better.”
Miserable to his very bones, hating the icy disdain
and disappointment from the one man who had only ever given Nick whatever he
needed, Nick whispered, “I’m sorry, Master, please forgive me.”
“No.”
Tears slipped out at last, his breath hitching in
his throat as the sharp dismissal was spoken.
“Do not move from that position. I’ll be back.”
Nick couldn’t stop the slow, painful tears as they
slid down his cheeks, throat tight and hot at the back as his mind replayed that
single word over and over again. It seemed an interminable time later that the
door reopened and his Master’s distinctive tread crossed the floor. There was
the sound of preparations being made, telling him that others, barefoot and
silent slaves it seemed, were in the room as well. Fear rose to mix with the
desolation. He’d never seen his Master this angry before and so had no real
idea of what might happen.
A split second after the door closed, fingers
snapped and Gil ordered, “Up.”
Nick scrabbled to his feet, keeping his eyes on the
floor, and waited.
His Master came up behind him and said, “Twenty five
licks from my belt for disobeying me. You will count out each and every one.”
“Yes, Master,” Nick whispered, sniffling and trying
not to sound pathetic.
“Thirty five licks from my belt for endangering
yourself.”
Sixty? I’ll
never survive!
Nick thought, panicking as a moan of fear escaped. He forced himself to
whisper, “Yes, Master,” knowing it was expected.
His Master walked in front of him and ordered
softly, “Look at me.”
Nick did so and found a cool, calm expression,
unrelieved by mercy, on the other man’s face. The beard and distant gaze gave
him a more forbidding air than usual that made Nick want to drop back to the
floor and beg for forgiveness. To kiss his boots, wash his feet with his tears,
anything to get the love back in his
Master’s eyes.
“You will take every blow, because you have to. I’m
not going to stop. This will not
happen again.”
And though Nick couldn’t quite figure out if he
meant the disobedience or the need for a punishment this severe, he instantly
started walking when his Master lightly touched his back, moving him forward.
He was brought to a table that had metal cuffs on one side and a thick cloth
along the other.
“Bend over.”
Shaking, Nick did as ordered, putting his hands
through the cuffs, knowing that they’d be needed. They were tightened around
his wrists and he was surprised to find they were lined on the inside. He might
be, probably would be, bruised around the wrists by the time this was over, but
he wouldn’t be permanently injured. He’d known that, deep inside, but it was
good to have confirmation.
He heard the slither of leather as the belt was
removed from his Master’s pants and goosebumps erupted, his cock hardening
despite his fear. It wouldn’t last beyond the first few blows, he was positive
of that, when the pain got too much. They hadn’t done that much ‘playing,’ as
his Master liked to call it, but it was enough for him to know that he did
enjoy a little pain.
Not what was coming, though, that he wasn’t going to
enjoy at all.
There was a whistle through the air and pain slashed
across his ass, making him yelp. He forced himself to gasp out, “One!”
Two through ten were bearable, but the heat built
and built, making him squirm and pant, trying to get away from it.
Eleven through twenty were staggeringly painful and
he cried out each number, unable to keep the volume down.
Twenty-one through twenty-five weren’t any better,
but he was allowed to rest briefly at the end. Just as well, since he could
barely think through the throbbing in his body, let alone coherently count out
any more numbers. Once he’d caught his breath, something was pushed against his
mouth. He jerked his head away, confused, instinctively not wanting whatever it
was in his mouth.
“Open up, let it in.”
Nick sobbed at the still-cold tone that cut more
deeply than the physical beating and did as ordered. Something round and hard
and plastic was pushed into his mouth, buckled into place with straps behind
his head.
“I don’t want to disturb the other guests with any
more of your noise.”
And then the strapping began again.
Nick howled at the belt whipping into his flesh,
some of the pressure not to cry out taken away by the gag that was in place. It
was difficult to breathe, his nose running as he cried through the blows. It
was both worse and better than the emotional pain, because it obliterated the
thinking, took away the guilt and fear, focusing him in the here and now. On
the other hand, it hurt like Hades and Nick could barely feel his legs anymore.
He wasn’t even really aware when the beating ended,
so consumed by the fire that ate its way through his ass and upper legs. Nick
hung limp on the table, unable to even think about moving, let alone supporting
his own weight. The gag was removed and a damp cloth wiped his face, cleaning
it of the snot and tears and saliva. The cuffs were next and then he was bodily
lifted from the table and dragged across the room to be lowered to the floor.
It was softer than wood, though, and Nick roused himself enough to discover he
was on a pallet of blankets.
Nick started to turn over when there was a harsh,
“Don’t move unless you are told to do so,” and remained on his stomach.
Something freezing dribbled onto his ass and Nick
strangled the cry in his throat, hands twisting in the blankets. He realized it
was lotion to help him, but that didn’t stop the pained whimpers from escaping
as even the healing became punishment. Then he was simply left as his Master went
about his evening ablutions. He didn’t dare to even lift his head, though he
wanted to, and tears began to fall again as his Master climbed into bed where,
apparently, Nick wasn’t going to be allowed.
Curling up in a miserable ball, face buried in the
blankets, Nick cried himself to sleep.
* * * *
Running his hands over Tony from top to bottom the
moment they were in private, Jethro assured himself that the slave really was
unhurt before yanking him in for a tight hug. Strong arms wrapped around his
waist as Tony burrowed close, face pressed to Jethro’s throat as his whispered,
“I’m sorry, Master, so sorry! I didn’t run away, I swear I didn’t run away, please don’t send me away, please
don’t...”
“Hush, Tony, ssh, it’s okay,” Jethro soothed,
cupping his face and kissing him when the panicked words didn’t stop. Breaking
it off, he gently stroked his fingers over his slave’s face and continued,
“You’re safe now, my own, no one’s going to hurt you, least of all me.”
Though still breathing fast, Tony nodded, eyes wide
but slowly calming as he realized that he really wasn’t going to be sent away.
Jethro led the other man to the bed as he said
softly, “Good, that’s it, just calm down,” and then began undressing him. He
made it a game, kissing and tweaking the exposed skin as it was revealed. He
knew that Tony would never try to escape a slavery that he wanted so much, that
Tony would never leave him. They were far too tightly bonded in heart and soul
for that to happen. Jethro would cut his own heart out before causing Tony any
lasting pain, emotional or physical. He lingered over the as-yet highly
sensitive nipples, licking them with just the tip of his tongue, causing his
slave to gasp and grip his arms tight.
Seeing that Tony was relaxing into the loving, he smiled
and coaxed the rest of the clothes from him before urging him onto the bed. It
was a slow, sensual feast spread out before him, Tony resting on the pillows
and automatically putting his arms up, grasping the headboard as he arched into
the mouth that returned to him.
“Master! Oh, please, Master,” Tony groaned, legs
spreading in silent invitation.
Jethro knelt between them and moved down to suck on
the hardening cock, helping it distend to its full length and girth. It was a
familiar shape and taste now, but one that he would never tire of; nor were the
gasps and moans things which he could go without now. With this man in his
life, Jethro remained human, remembered what it was that he fought for, every
day. He wiggled a finger slowly between the tight cheeks, trying to aid in the
other man’s release, knowing just how to get the fastest response.
One of his hands reached up to tug on the platinum
hoop attached to a nipple and the cock in his mouth jerked, spurting pre-come.
Tony’s hips pushed up, thrusting his shaft deeper into Jethro. Relaxing his
throat, he took Tony down all the way and used his other hand to massage the
heavy, tight balls, rolling them as he continued to tug on the nipple ring.
Tony cried out, coming just as Jethro pulled back to take a breath, coating his
face in lines of come.
Chuckling ruefully, Jethro started to wipe at his
face, but Tony moved swiftly, catching his hand and kneeling up to whisper in
his ear, “Let me, Master.” Without further words, Tony slowly licked the come from
his face as his hand stroked Jethro through his pants for a few seconds. They
were unzipped and shoved down a moment later and his hand gripped Jethro’s
cock. By the time the come was cleaned, Jethro shuddered and jerked in his
slave’s arms, the world crashing down on him as it hadn’t in quite a while. He
could have lost Tony through a stupid moment of inattention, could have never
had this again, because he hadn’t been keeping an eye on the most important
person in his life.
“It’s okay, Master, I’m all right and you didn’t do
anything wrong,” Tony soothed, kissing and nuzzling at his jaw and throat. “Let
it go, Master, let it all go. I’m fine, I’m here, and I’m still yours, only
yours.”
Jethro moaned and came on the last words, spilling
over Tony’s hand and collapsing against him. What had begun as comfort for his
slave, had become comfort for himself. He took Tony’s mouth in a wet, deep
kiss, possessing him lazily, but possessing him nonetheless. When he finally
broke away, Tony’s eyes were dazed and he protested the separation with a sigh.
Smiling indulgently, he ordered, “Under the covers, my own. We’ve had a long
afternoon.”
Tony pulled down the blankets and curled up on
Jethro the moment they were both lying down, hitching a leg over his Master’s
hip and an arm over his chest. It was warm enough that they only needed the
sheets, both preferring the windows open to the air conditioner being on.
“Master?”
Stroking his hand through the thick hair, Jethro
kissed the top of his head and replied, “What is it, my own?”
“Master Grissom seemed very angry with his slave,
even though Nick was just trying to protect us,” Tony observed softly.
Jethro had noticed that, but hadn’t commented. If
Grissom wanted to beat his man for whatever he considered a problem, or even a
perceived problem, it was his right. Sighing, Jethro whispered, “There’s
nothing I can do, Tony, I’m sorry, my own.”
Nodding, Tony’s arm tightened on him. “I know. I
just wish everyone treated their slaves as wonderfully as you do, me.”
Jethro’s smile had something of pain in it as he
thought about what Tony had gone through to get here. About how he wouldn’t
change anything, not even that, if it meant that he never met the other man.
The healing of Tony’s throat was as good as it was ever going to be, the other
man’s voice scratchy and lacking in force unless he was extra loud. And that
was just the most obvious result of the abuse he’d suffered in the Pens as a
cop amidst a general slave population that consisted mostly of convicts. The
body scars had faded from sight, though Jethro still felt them whenever his
fingers traced over the other man’s body.
“Master?”
“Yes, Tony?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong today. It wasn’t your
fault.”
It was, but Jethro didn’t want to argue about it.
Sighing tiredly, he wrapped both arms around his slave and held him tight to
his chest, whispering, “Go to sleep, my own.”
* * * *
Nick woke to the sensation of being lifted into the
air, but didn’t flail or jerk in surprise, knowing instantly that it was his
own Master who moved him.
“Nicky, I’m putting you in the tub so you can soak.”
Going boneless with relief at the gentle, loving
words, at hearing his name from those beloved lips, Nick turned his face into
the warm skin and nodded, even though he knew this was going to hurt. He was
already in agony, just from being lifted, and that didn’t require any
participation from him. The hot tub that he’d already tried out once, for a not
very different reason, was far more unpleasant this time around. His Master
simply sat in the tub, resting Nick between his legs in the bubbling, steaming
water. Nick clung to the other man as his skin protested the heat and
stimulation, tears of pain leaking from his eyes.
The difference this time, was that Gil’s hands
soothed along his spine and gentle, encouraging words were whispered into his
ear. Loving words that told him how valued he was, how his Master would die
inside if anything were to happen to him. Nick cried again as he realized the
hell that the other man had gone through, the unreasoning emotions that had
prompted his beating and what his Master had suffered in delivering it.
Sniffling, Nick looked up into his Master’s saddened
eyes and wiped his nose with the back of his hand before apologizing, “I’m so
sorry, Master, so sorry. I’ll never disobey you again, I swear, just don’t hate
me anymore, please don’t hate me!”
“I don’t, baby, I love you so much. I could never
hate you. Everything’s okay now,” his Master promised between kisses to his
forehead and cheek. “You took your punishment so well, all is forgiven. We’re
just going to move forward from here, lessons learned, right?”
Nick nodded emphatically, even as it jostled them in
the tub and he gasped at the resulting pain that shot from ass to calf. “I just
wanted to help you, to protect you.”
“I know, Nicky, I do, but you don’t know how to
fight. That’s a fact. The only thing you could have done was make the situation
worse. If Gibbs hadn’t stepped in when he did, who knows what would have
happened,” Gil replied, soft but firm. “When we get back, I can have Jim or
Warrick teach you self-defense if you want. If you don’t, and it’s by no means
required or even needed, then you must stand back and let me do the fighting. I
know what I’m doing and I can protect you.”
Resting his head on his Master’s shoulder, exhausted
despite the sleep he’d just gotten, feeling battered in his soul as well as his
body, Nick sighed and said, “I just want to help you. I, I hated, hate being a
burden to you.”
Gil’s hand cupped his chin, angling his face so that
their eyes met again. “Nicky, you are never a burden to me. Never. You are a
delight. I treasure every moment with you more than anything else in this
world.”
“But, back in
Kissing him on the lips, a chaste, pure kiss, Gil
informed him firmly, “I did want you there. You made a horrible situation
bearable, Nicky. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clearer to you. As for making me
look good, you do, believe me. Jim is very impressed with you, and that takes
some doing. And I’ve never seen Greg take to anyone the way he has with you,
that makes you so special. You don’t have to perform for me to love you, Nicky,
I already do.”
That unrealized fear crystallized, cracked, and fell
away in shatters. Rubbing at his eyes again, Nick managed a smile this time and
admitted, “I don’t really want to learn to fight, Master.”
“Then you won’t,” Gil promised, echoing the smile.
“What do you want to do? Sky’s the limit, Nicky. You can pick anything and I’ll
do my best to get you the proper training and accreditation.”
“Well, I liked working with Greg in the lab,” Nick proposed
hesitantly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as him, but I could help. He’s
going to need help soon, once the baby starts to really grow.”
“That’s true. And easily arranged. Are you sure you
don’t want something else? You could go to school, get a degree in accounting
or music or whatever you want,” Gil pointed out.
Relaxing the rest of the way as the other man’s
words showed him that everything really was all right between them, Nick just
shook his head and said sleepily, “Want to be near you, Master.”
Gil chuckled and kissed him again, ordering, “Don’t
fall asleep just yet, baby. Time to get out of the tub. Then I’ll massage you
and you can fall asleep in bed, all right?”
Even phrased as a question, Nick knew it was an
order. He nodded and slowly, carefully, got out of the tub with his Master’s
help. He felt like a crippled old man, his lower body one big ache, though the
throbbing had lessened, thanks to soaking in the tub. He sure as hell wasn’t
going to be sitting comfortably for a long time to come and nearly groaned at
the thought of being taken because that was going to hurt like Hades, too.
There was more lotion rubbed into him as his
Master’s hands moved inch by inch from his toes all the way up his body and out
along his arms to his fingers. By the time his waist was reached, Nick was
mostly asleep. The tenderness and love with which the massage was given
banished the rest of the doubts he held that he might still be in trouble, that
his Master might hold a grudge. It was over and done with and now he knew
better.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t jump into the fray if
he found his Master threatened in the future, it just meant that he knew what
the punishment would be for such a transgression.
* * * *
Tony woke slowly, happily still ensconced in his
Master’s arms, and stretched minutely, yawning and nuzzling at the warm skin of
Gibbs’ throat. They were still partially dressed, making him grin, and he
carefully pulled from his Master’s embrace to undress them. He had Gibbs’ pants
off and was staring at the half-hard shaft before him when the grin returned.
It would be an excellent wake-up call.
He licked lightly at it, tracing the veins with the
tip of his tongue, then sat back a little to watch as the blood filled it.
Bending down again, Tony sucked on just the head, running his tongue all around
it and feeling it swell even further. He moved slowly, wetting and sucking on
the shaft as he went down on it. A groan from above signaled his Master
awakening, as did the way his hips jerked, forcing more of the cock into his
mouth, pushing at the back of his throat.
Fingers laced through his hair, gripping tight and
pulling him off, to his disappointment. But then he was tugged upwards and
Gibbs kissed him, hard and deep, rolling him onto his back. The hard cock
pumped between his thighs and Tony tightened around it, giving his Master a
hole to fuck, even if it wasn’t his ass. Moaning into the mouth possessing him,
Tony’s hands gripped Gibbs’ back, nails scratching deep enough to prompt a hiss
from the other man.
Gibbs grabbed Tony’s legs, pulling them up and out,
exposing him just before he plunged into the vulnerable hole. Tony arched up,
crying out in pained pleasure as he was taken, Claimed without pause. It had
been far too long since they’d done this, in his opinion, even though it had
only been a few weeks since they’d been at the piercing parlor where Gibbs had
Claimed him but good. The hard cock drove in and out of him, faster and harder
as his Master used Tony solely for his own pleasure. Tony’s dick had softened
at the painful entry, but was recovering as his prostate was hit every so
often.
He clung to Gibbs, arms tight around his back as he
was fucked, begging shamelessly for more, and given it. The Gunny leaned on
Tony completely, Tony’s legs bent back over his own shoulders, jack-hammering
into the slave until he came with a shout, grinding and spilling deep into his
slave.
Tony’s cock was hard enough to burst at the
slightest provocation, even as he desperately struggled to regain control of
himself. Sighing deeply, Gibbs undulated into him a few more times, milking
himself into the abused hole, then withdrawing to collapse beside Tony.
Whimpering, Tony begged, “Master, please, I need to come, please let me come!”
Pushing onto an elbow, smiling wickedly down at his
slave, Gibbs replied simply, “No. And you’re not going to shower, either. Don’t
move, I’ll be right back.”
With a groan, Tony dragged a pillow over his face
and punched it a few times in frustration. He squawked in surprise when his
Master’s hands returned to his body and then moaned in protest as a cockring
was slid into place. A plug was next, which he’d half expected, knowing how
much his Master liked to torture him with pleasure. It turned out to not be a
normal plug, though, when it suddenly started vibrating inside him, causing
Tony to arch helplessly into the air for relief that just wasn’t going to
happen.
It was going to be a really, really long day.
* * * *
Jethro loved the way Tony squirmed, trying
unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position as he sat on the cushion, on the
floor beside him. He’d tormented his slave for another hour before finally
letting him come, and then promptly gotten him hard again, repositioning the
cockring and playing with the new toy he’d bought just for their vacation. He
would turn the vibrating plug on and off at odd moments, usually just as Tony
started to get comfortable.
He didn’t call himself a bastard for no reason,
after all.
Dressed only in loose, beige harem-styled pants that
clung low on his hips, Tony’s golden brown skin was mouth-watering. The nipple
and belly rings glinted, tantalizing, against the tanned skin. His physique was
perfect, lean and muscled, showing strength and power, and his submissive
posture and instant obedience made them the envy of the hotel. Or, it felt that
way to Jethro, since he saw the hungry looks cast their way from both slaves
and Masters.
Grissom showed up only a few minutes after Tony
finally got comfortable, taking his seat with a smile and greeting, “Good
morning.”
Not seeing the slave worried Jethro, but he only
replied, “Morning. Sleep well?”
“Terrible,” Grissom answered honestly. “But
everything’s fine, now that Nick’s been dealt with.”
Severely enough that he wasn’t at his Master’s side,
which again worried Jethro, though there was nothing he could do about it. His
hand rested on Tony’s head, soothing him through what was sure to be a
distressful realization. “Have you eaten?”
Nodding, Grissom answered, “We ate in bed shortly
before I left.”
Well that
doesn’t sound too harsh, Jethro thought, seeing a definite softening to the other man’s
expression as he thought about his slave. Keeping his voice neutral, he asked,
“Is Nick under the weather, this morning?”
“You could say that,” Grissom replied. “He’s a
little stiff this morning, so I’m letting him rest and relax in our quarters
today. He’ll join us for supper, though. I’m so glad you called and suggested
the Sistine. It’s so incredible and I haven’t been there in a long time.”
Wry, Jethro thought, A little stiff. I bet.
“Master?”
Looking down at Tony, who rarely interrupted in
public, he asked, “What is it, my own?”
“May I use the facilities?”
Thinking back, Jethro realized that Tony hadn’t used
the bathroom except first on waking and nodded, scanning for the nearest
restroom. There was a pair just on the opposite wall and he directed Tony that
way with, “More than two minutes and I’m coming after you.”
“May I have five, Master? I um, need to, you know,”
Tony replied, gesturing vaguely and flushing as he stood.
Jethro grinned and said, “Five minutes, Tony.”
Grateful, Tony smiled and replied, “Thank you,
Master,” before hurrying off.
He watched to make sure he got there all right, then
turned his attention back to find Grissom giving him a bemused look. “Something
wrong?”
“No, no, it’s just, I wouldn’t have thought a
military man would be so…considerate…of his slave,” Grissom explained honestly.
With a shrug, Jethro said, “Tony’s not an ordinary
slave. He became my slave voluntarily. We’re…bonded for lack of a better word.”
Understanding crossed Grissom’s face and he smiled
faintly. “I did buy Nick, but it’s a heart match as well. He’s my only, and
always will be.”
“And yet, he’s not fit enough to be with us today,”
Jethro couldn’t help but observe.
Grissom paused before speaking, clearly choosing his
words carefully. “It’s because I love Nick that I had to punish him so
severely. He can’t fight. Doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. As far as
I know, he was never even in a fight as a kid. By disobeying me, he put all of
us in more danger than we already were. All I can say is that it was a very,
very good thing that you showed up when you did. I honestly don’t know what
would have happened if you hadn’t, because I couldn’t have taken all of them.”
And put that way, of course Grissom would need to be
brutal in the slave’s lesson about obedience. If the slave’s actions, however
well intentioned, had caused Tony to be hurt…shaking off the useless anger,
Jethro took a breath and glanced his watch and then the bathroom door. The five
minutes were just about up. He was about to stand when the door opened and Tony
came out. The slave nimbly avoided others in his path without actually looking
up from the floor, crossing over to where he and Grissom sat and retaking his
seat on the floor with grace.
Until he actually had to sit, which was when Jethro
flipped the switch and grinned at the resulting yelp of surprise when the
vibrator turned on. Tony shot an accusing look at him, and there was a hungry
need mixed in, but he wasn’t worried that the other was even close to his
limits. He’d pushed Tony far beyond this before, for the specific task of
discovering his slave’s limits.
Meeting Grissom’s amused look, he stood and
suggested, “Shall we go?”
He heard Tony’s sigh of annoyance as he scrambled to
his feet, having just sat down, and Jethro’s grin grew.
* * * *
Grissom turned out to be a guide book with legs; he
pretty much knew everything about anything, both factually and anecdotally.
They went through the Sistine Chapel, which was an incredible devotion to faith
and art, though Jethro didn’t share in the Christian doctrine. Tony leaned on
him the whole time, gaping up at the ceiling and staring in wonder at the
paintings.
While appreciative of the art and craftsmanship, not
to mention pure stubbornness, of the entire venture, Jethro was more interested
in the way Grissom treated Tony. He never talked down to the slave, never one
insulted or even came close to sounding harsh with him. If Jethro didn’t know
better, he’d have said that Grissom was familiar with Tony’s history and trying
not to spook him, being a stranger. And maybe he was familiar with them, maybe
it was all a façade, but Jethro didn’t think so.
No, Jethro was sure that the other man respected
Tony and would show any slave that kind of consideration. As if believing that
because of their ‘reduced’ status, it was all the more important to take care
with them. That alone would have reassured him that Nick wasn’t lying in a pool
of his own blood back at the pensione, but there was also the man himself.
Jethro found Grissom to be straightforward and kind, the smiles at children
playing around them genuine, the gentle tone with Tony and other slaves
throughout the day, natural. As well, he called the pensione three times during
the day and spoke with Nick to check on him.
When suppertime came around, Jethro wasn’t surprised
to find Nick waiting for them at the desk, nor that the slave hurried into his
Master’s arms and held on tight. Jethro’s hand wandered down to Tony’s ass for
about the tenth time that day, squeezing and fondling it at will, given that
their backs were to a wall as the other two men had their little reunion.
Groaning, Tony pressed his face to Jethro’s shoulder
and begged, “Please Master, please let me come.”
Jethro nuzzled at his ear, asking hotly, “Right
here? In front of everyone? You want me to bend you over the nearest surface
and fuck you until you come, screaming my name?”
Tony shuddered, fingers practically gauging into
Jethro’s back as his mouth sucked on his Master’s throat, exposing his own like
temptation itself. Glancing around the old-fashioned building, he spotted an
alcove that was tucked away, hidden enough from sight that, if they were quiet,
no one would know what was going on. He pulled Tony over to it, the slave’s
hands already working on Jethro’s belt and zipper as he walked backwards to
wherever he was directed.
When they reached the nook, Jethro shoved the light
pants that covered Tony down and spun him to face the wall. Wiggling the plug
caused Tony to moan, but Jethro was done teasing and pulled it out. His cock
was already hard, having teased himself with the sight of a needy Tony all day
and he forced it quickly into the willing body. He humped deep into Tony right
away, barely withdrawing before slamming back inside. One hand pushed three
fingers into Tony’s mouth to stifle the noises that spilled unthinking from him,
and the other stroked the hard, hot flesh jutting from his slave’s body.
Tony leaned back on him completely, limp, as if he
couldn’t summon the strength to do anything to bring about his own finish.
Burning with his own need, Jethro undid the cockring and panted, “Come for me,
my own,” eliciting an instant response. Tony seized up as he came, head
pressing back against Jethro’s shoulder and his ass clamping down on the cock
that still rode him. It only took a few more thrusts for his own orgasm to take
over and he bit down hard on the fleshy part of Tony’s shoulder as he filled
the other man to overflowing.
For several long moments, they just stood there,
panting and recovering. Finally, Jethro licked soothingly at the bite mark that
showed clearly, already bruising the skin, pulling the plug from his slave’s
mouth to ask, “You all right, my own?”
“Yes, Master,” Tony replied dreamily.
Chuckling, knowing that the other man was pretty far
gone, and probably would be the rest of the night, Jethro withdrew from his
slave’s body and started cleaning them up to rejoin their new friends.
* * * *
Nick was so glad to see Gil at the end of the day
that he literally threw his arms around the other man, ignoring the pain in his
ass and legs to rush over to him.
Strong arms wound about his waist and Gil chuckled,
asking softly in his ear, “Miss me?”
“Yes, Master, of course!” Nick exclaimed, kissing
the side of his throat and up to his ear. “It was so lonely without you.”
“And you were bored.”
“Well, yes, but mostly, I just missed you.”
There was another soft chuckle and his Master pulled
back a bit to smile at him. After kissing him gently, but thoroughly, on the
mouth, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Nick answered honestly. “But I can manage.”
Gil questioned intently, “Did you take the pain
relievers?”
Sighing, Nick nodded. “Yes, Master. And I had those
massages that you arranged for as well.”
“Good. Don’t want you stiffening up or anything to
happen to your beautiful skin,” Gil murmured, kissing him again.
Nick sighed happily into the kiss, easily able to
ignore the discomfort of the lower half of his body as his mouth was gently
devoured. He gasped when his Master’s wandering hands squeezed his ass, but the
pain was only enough to cause his cock to harden in response, not to actively
start him hurting again.
Pulling back, Gil said, “I think our new friends are
going to be occupied for a bit. Let’s get Tony something to wear for when it
gets chilly later. He should fit into something of yours, though the sleeves
might be a bit short.”
With an arm around each other’s waists, they walked
slowly up to their rooms with a minimum of molesting from his Master. Nick was
grinning and flushed by the time they returned to the lobby, happily reminded
of just how much he was wanted. The night before was like a very bad dream and
already starting to fade, thankfully. His grin got a little bigger as he took
in the dreamy expression on the other slave’s face, completely understanding
where the other man was at, just then.
Holding out the shirt to Gibbs, Gil offered, “I
thought it might get chilly and figured you wouldn’t want to go all the way
back to your hotel for something.”
Gibbs took it with a nod, folding it over his arm.
“Thanks.”
They walked along the crowded street arm in arm and
Nick leaned as happily on his Master as Tony did his. Conversation was quiet
and generalized, which meant that Nick had missed on the introductory
conversations of what Gibbs and Tony did, where they came from, what their
vacation plans were, all of that sort of things. He made a note to ask Gil
about it later just as they arrived at the restaurant. It was a large place
with wooden tables set along the walls, the main floor open save for a few
props, the whole thing a variation on dinner theater, with an opera used
instead of a musical.
“Though really,” Gil said after their orders had
been taken. “If American musicals were in a ‘traditional’ language like Italian
or German, many of them would be considered operas, or operettas at the very
least.”
Nick smiled fondly at the familiar complaint and
leaned into his Master’s knee, looking up at him.
Gil gazed down at him and tweaked his nose, smiling
as he commented, “Nick’s heard this all too often, I’m afraid.”
“And it never gets old,” Nick replied, grinning.
Chuckling, Gil countered, “Liar.”
The drinks arrived with bread and cheese, so further
teasing was set aside in favor of food. Nick discovered, to his surprise, that
he was famished, despite having eating during the day. He was plied with the
delicious food, but not allowed any wine, even though he was dying for a taste
of the local vintage. It smelled heavenly and he pled silently with his eyes
for just a little.
Gil stroked Nick’s head gently. “I’m sorry, baby,
but not tonight. Tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes, Master,” Nick agreed, disappointed.
Gil bent down to kiss him lightly on the lips.
“Tomorrow, when you’re not on anything else.”
Nick opened his mouth for the strawberry that
magically appeared from nowhere, grinning after he sucked it right out of his
Master’s fingers, his tongue lingering on the tips that brushed his lips.
Gil looked more than a little distracted as he
straightened up, clearing his throat and saying, “I ah, I think our order is
here.”
And it was, more the pity. Fortunately, there were
plenty more opportunities for Nick to distract his Master, as he was tugged up
to sit on Gil’s lap. He protested quietly, “Master, no, I’m too heavy for you.”
Gil brushed his fingers over Nick’s cheek and gazed
up at him as he answered, “You’re not. And I like having you like this.”
They had just about cleared off the plate when the
dim lights lowered even further. Nick’s attention was brought to the center of
the room where two women took the stage. They were lovely, with long dark hair and
golden skin, one tall and one average height, both slender, the shorter of the
two with more curves than her companion. The shorter woman was a slave, from
the golden chain that sparkled around her neck when the light hit them and the
singing began.
Therein followed an hour of incredibly beautiful
arias, the women’s voices soaring and twining in duet after duet. Soft
accompaniment by guitar and piano alternated throughout the selections, but
above all were the voices. The poignancy and emotion conveyed more heartache
than Nick thought possible to hear in a human voice. He rested completely on
Gil as he watched them, eyes glued to the performance even as his throat
tightened in response to it.
It seemed like he woke from a dream when the last
note faded and he blinked several times as the silence continued for several
seconds, the entire room caught up in the performance. The applause was
thunderous once it began, and Nick happily added to the noise, standing with
Gil to give a standing ovation as the women bowed and took the accolades with
grace before leaving the stage. They returned for an encore, of course, but the
next three songs were far too short and then it really was over.
As they walked outside, the cool air refreshing him
further, Nick’s hand was taken and he smiled up at Gil to say, “Now I know why
you’re always listening to it, but it never sounds like that on the stereo.”
“It does lose something in the recording,” Gil
agreed regretfully. “There’s nothing like a live performance to make a fan.
What did you think, Jethro?”
But Gibbs was staring intently at Tony, whose back
was to them. He did finally look at them and answered, “I’m afraid I need to
cut this short. How about I call you in a couple of days and we’ll arrange that
trip to the ruins that we talked about earlier?”
Worried, Nick would have moved forward, but Gil
stopped him with a touch to his hip.
“That’s fine. We’ll look forward to it,” Gil agreed.
Nick followed as his Master led him down the street,
away from their new friends, but cast a last look back to find Tony shaking in
his Master’s arms, clearly crying. Distressed, Nick looked to Gil, who had also
caught the sad sight, and was brought in for a sideways embrace.
“Come on, Nicky. Time for bed. It’s been a long day
for both of us,” Gil said quietly, angling them towards the pensione.
* * * *
Gripping Tony’s shoulders firmly, Jethro massaged at
the solid tension there without success. He finally just pulled Tony into his
arms, whereupon the other man held tight, face pressed to Jethro’s throat as he
shook with silent tears. Feeling more than a bit helpless as to what might have
brought this on, Tony wasn’t one for crying, he murmured, “What’s wrong, Tony?
What is it?”
It was a few minutes before Tony managed to get
control of himself enough to pulled back and wipe at his face. Taking a breath,
he released it shakily before saying, “My grandmother used to sing that song,
the last one, when I was a kid. I just, it hit me that I have no family
anymore. None of them will ever acknowledge me ever again, not even my cousins,
because of the life I’ve chosen.”
Pained by the admission, Jethro said, “It hasn’t
been that long, Tony, give them some time.”
But Tony shook his head and replied, “It won’t
change anything. Nothing will, save to be a free man again. It’s family pride
and we’ve all got it in spades.”
“Do you want to be released?” Jethro offered after a
long pause where Tony just stared into space, hugging himself.
Tony jolted upright, instantly denying, “No! Never,
Master, this is what I want! It just…hit me a little hard. I didn’t get to go
to my Grandfather’s funeral and say goodbye. He shouldn’t be dead, he was such
a strong man.”
Taking Tony’s hand in his, Jethro started walking
back towards the hotel. The night had cooled off, so he was grateful that Gil
had been thinking, where he clearly had not. He smiled a little and hip-checked
Tony to get his attention. When he had it, he said, “What do you say to the
beach tomorrow?”
“But you hate the beach. We’d just be lying in the
sun, doing nothing. You hate doing nothing,” Tony pointed out.
Drawing him in close with an arm around Tony’s
waist, Jethro replied, “But you love doing nothing, especially doing nothing in
the sun. I’ll bring a book or something.”
A pleased smile surfaced, though the echo of sadness
remained, and Tony agreed, “It sounds great.”
Jethro stole a short kiss and thought, A day of boredom is worth putting a smile on
his face.
* * * *
The beach was heavenly and Tony soaked in the sun
with pleasure. Gibbs sat only a foot away, reading in a beach chair under a
smallish beach umbrella. The sight of his master dressed in shorts and t-shirt,
hat on his head, under an umbrella, was enough to make him smile fondly. It was
obvious that his Master had no intention of going into the water, then or any
time in the future.
Yawning, Tony stretched and arched before rolling
onto his side to look blatantly at his Master and ask, “Do you not like the
water, Master?”
Gibbs snorted, glancing over at him to answer, “As
long as it’s over there, and I’m over here, I like it fine, Tony.”
“Did something happen to make you not like it?” Tony
persisted curiously.
With a shrug, Gibbs looked to where the waves hit
the shore. “Not really, no. I was landlocked, growing up, so the ocean’s not my
favorite place to swim. Water shouldn’t sting like that when you get it in your
eyes.”
Thrilled at the personal tidbit, something that he
rarely got from the other man, Tony said, “We always went swimming in the ocean
every summer since I was a baby. Grandfather had a villa here in
“So you’re a good swimmer?” Gibbs questioned.
Nodding, Tony agreed, “A great swimmer. Any sports,
really. Played basketball in college and even made the tournament, but I broke
my leg. Or, rather, had it broken for me when some goon slammed into me and I
hit the stands at a bad angle. That was the end of a sports career.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t have met you if that hadn’t
happened.”
Gibbs smiled at him for a long moment, then said,
“Why don’t you go cool off? I’ll watch you from here.”
“You sure you don’t want to join me? I could make it
worth your while,” Tony teased with a grin.
“You will later anyhow,” Gibbs informed him,
smirking. “Go have some fun.”
They had camped out near the slaves’ area for
swimming, since his Master still didn’t want to let Tony out of his sight after
the near miss from before. While slaves could swim anywhere with their Masters
or Mistresses, if they were alone, they went to a cordoned off area in the
water. It was a pretty big section, considering, and Tony was able to get some
decent laps done, just to feel his body working through the water.
When he came up for air, he found himself dragged
into a water volleyball game and wound up enjoying himself immensely. He got
dunked a few times by enthusiastic teammates, and felt up more than a few
times, but it was all in fun and he didn’t mind. He tackled a few of the women
on his own, palming a breast and squeezing between the legs in a quick grab. It
was just another way of playing, more of a European thing than a slave thing.
Tony’s immediate family might not have been physically demonstrative, but his
Italian cousins had more than shown him a few ‘natural delights’ while growing
up.
Begging off at last, Tony disengaged from the game
and hauled himself out of the water, happy and tired. He collapsed on the towel
and grinned over at where Gibbs was smiling at him.
“Have some fun, did you?”
The mild tone was enough to alert Tony that
something was up, but he nodded and answered honestly, “Definitely. Haven’t
played like that in a long time.”
“And I gather that playing means groping, here in
Uh oh.
“Get your ass over here now.”
Tony scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Gibbs
only to find himself sprawled face down over Gibbs’ lap. A hand rested on his
ass in warning, rubbing it as his Master mused, “I haven’t seen your ass a nice
shade of red in a while, I suppose I could take care of that here and now.”
A sharp slap caused Tony to gasp, but he didn’t make
any noise.
“But, unlike some people, I’m not into public
displays.”
Tony couldn’t help the disbelieving snort that
escaped, even as his eyes widened in horror at the sound and Gibbs’ hand
stilled where it rested on him.
“Oh really.”
Groaning to himself, Tony apologized, “I’m sorry,
Master, I didn’t mean anything by it! Honest!”
Two more hard slaps had Tony biting his lip, but
then he was ordered to his feet and directed to gather everything together.
Once he was burdened down, he caught sight of the wicked look on his Master’s
face and just about cringed at the thought of what his punishment might be. His
Master was extremely inventive in devising positively torturous punishments
that put a mere spanking to shame.
“Let’s go, my own. Time for some…readjustment…back
at the hotel.”
Eyes to the ground, Tony followed his Master back to
the car, frantically wondering if there was any way that he could get out of
whatever was going to come.
* * * *
It was a couple of days after the dinner concert
that Gil got a call from Jethro about heading out for a hike to the ruins
outside the city. He was tempted to decline, but he and Nicky had been lazing
in bed far too much of late and accepted. A day of being out and about would be
good for them both. Nick was mostly recovered from his beating, which was good,
and Gil had more than done his best to keep that beautiful skin supple and the
muscles massaged, pampering his slave almost to an extreme. He didn’t want the
lesson lost, but knew that the physical wasn’t the thing that lingered most, to
Nick.
Slapping lightly on his slave’s bare ass, Gil said,
“Time to get up, Nicky. Jethro and Tony are going to meet us for a day of
hiking.”
“Sounds great,” Nick answered, words muffled into
the pillow as he didn’t move.
Gil chuckled and ordered, “Up, Nick. We need to
shower and get dressed properly before going anywhere.”
Groaning, Nick rolled onto his back and grinned at
him as he replied, “You broke me, Master. I can’t get out of bed.”
“You’ve got twenty minutes to be showered and
dressed,” Gil informed him smartly, hiding a grin. “If you’re not, well, you
won’t like the results. I’ll be back shortly.”
Nick was rolling out of bed by the time Gil reached
the door, which broadened his grin. Nick had been more than anxious to please him,
the last few days, clearly still trying to make up for his disobedience. Gil
had stopped trying to tell the slave that all was forgiven, because Nick would
come to that conclusion on his own eventually. Or maybe this was just to
appease his own guilt in not doing as he’d been told in the first place. Either
way, Nick had been especially biddable and that had made for some interesting
experiments in bed.
He ordered some special pastries for Nick while
making arrangements for a car for the day, knowing how much the younger man
loved them. It was going to be difficult to readjust to normal life, once they
returned to Vegas, even about something as simple as breakfast food.
And about other things, he thought ruefully. At least Catherine and Sara will have had time to settle in to their new lives. And Warrick would have called if anything was going wrong with the pregnancy. Of course, everything going right means that Greg’s a bundle of hormones now, which will be its own source of joy. Jim’ll be in a seriously bad mood by the time we get back, too.
All in all, it was far more pleasant not to remember
that there was only a week left of the vacation.
Nick was waiting for him when he returned to their
rooms, kneeling easily on the floor by the bed, hair still damp but dressed and
ready. Smiling at the picture he presented, Gil greeted, “You’re so beautiful,
Nicky. I want to undress you and throw you back into bed, but we’re expected
now. Come on, I’ve got a car waiting for us.”
Smiling up at him, Nick pointed out, “They’d
probably understand if you canceled, Master.”
“I’m sure they would, but I want to take a walk
around the ruins and we might as well have company when we go. That way you’re
not bored to pieces,” Gil replied, holding out a hand.
Nick took his hand and stood, going willingly into
Gil’s arms and opening his mouth to the short, gentle kiss. Slapping his slave
lightly on the ass, knowing that Nick was still sensitive there, Gil guided
them out of the room to the car below. They picked up Jethro and Tony outside
their very modern hotel and the two slaves climbed in the back, chatting
quietly with the occasional chuckle as the car left the city.
“I see you had some…modifications…made to Tony,” Gil
observed when the boys in back got a little louder.
Jethro grinned and agreed, “Just a few. Nothing
permanent. Although I really kind of like him bare, so that might stay.”
Gil had contemplated having Nicky shaved and waxed,
but the slave had very little body hair to begin with and so hadn’t bothered.
Curious, he asked, “Any changes where they can’t be seen?”
Shaking his head, Jethro explained, “It was just to
demonstrate a point that was, I think, well taken.”
The curiosity grew and Gil looked briefly at the
other man. “What point?”
“About how much of an exhibitionist we both are, and
aren’t,” Jethro explained complacently. “Tony went nude yesterday, all day.”
Intrigued, Gil questioned, “And how did that go?”
Jethro offered a low, warm chuckle and replied,
“Well, he’s not going to complain about tan lines any time soon, because the
boy evens out very quickly. As for the rest of it, he enjoyed it a lot more
than he let on, despite the embarrassment of being in nothing but his chains.
We didn’t go far, since his feet aren’t used to being barefoot outside, but we
wandered around for a few hours before having lunch at a café and then a snack
outside a pastry shop.”
“And what about you?”
There was a pause before Jethro answered truthfully,
“I liked it. Knowing that he’s mine and no one else can touch that body of his
without permission, which I’ll never give.”
Recognizing the possessive tone from his own nature
in Jethro, Gil grinned and said, “I did it once before, but it was extreme
circumstances. I don’t think I’d like it on a regular day.”
“I bet you would.”
Gil chuckled and decided to not dig himself in any
further. It was a moot point anyhow, because even if he did like it, he’d never
put Nicky on display like that. The slave would be an emotional wreck if that
ever happened.
“Master?”
“Yeah, Tony?”
“Are we going to stop anywhere to eat?”
“Are you hungry again already?”
“Um, yeah. You know. I lost a lot of calories
yesterday.”
Jethro looked to him, the grin still visible, and
Gil shrugged, offering, “I could do with a snack. Brought some pastries that
shouldn’t sit for too much longer.”
So they pulled off to the side on the next rest area
and watched the cars speeding by as the boys attacked the pastry basket. Jethro
pulled out a map and started pointing out things that could be of interest to
them both, to which Gil agreed, and by the time the food was gone, they were
ready to go again. It didn’t take much longer to get to the ruins and Gil was
rather surprised to find that it was as empty as it was, being tourist season.
The day was a pleasant one, spent wandering around
the ruins. Nick and Tony ran off several times on their own, then Tony and
Jethro disappeared for a couple of hours as well. Gil was left to putter around
the ruins to his heart’s content, enjoying Nick’s quiet company when it was
with him. Dusk came far too quickly and it was with regret that he packed up
his shadings and specimen jars. Not that anything he’d found had been
extraordinary, but there had been a few really nice insects to bring home, once
he dried them out for his collection.
Jethro took the wheel for the drive back, which was
nice, and they stopped at a seafood restaurant on the way back. It was almost
pleasant enough to stay in the small town overnight, but Gil wanted to get back
to the pensione and the comfort of their own beds, temporary as they were.
Nick was asleep in the car when Gil dropped Jethro
and Tony at their hotel. He and Jethro promised to get together before the
couples separated for their respective homes, and then headed for the pensione.
It took some doing to get Nick upright and out of the car and well-kept slaves
picked up their things, following quietly behind as he brought Nick to their
rooms.
Once Nick had tumbled into bed, Gil started
arranging their things, feeling an odd kind of restlessness chase through him
as he did. That done, he drifted back to the bed where he slowly undressed his
slave, making sure not to wake Nick through the process. Having the other man
completely in his care like that sent a frisson of heat through him, the
weighty body resting on him as he cradled and moved Nick to take the clothes
off.
When he finally gazed down at the beautiful, naked
body of his slave, Gil stroked his cock through his pants, licking at dry lips.
Nick sighed, a slight smile in place, and rolled onto his stomach, a leg
drawing up as he snuggled against the mattress. Pulling his own shirt up and
off, Gil tossed it aside then got rid of his pants and boxers as well. He
climbed onto the bed and settled behind Nick, snaring the lube from the bedside
table as he did.
Squirting some onto his fingers, he smeared it
around to warm it and slowly pushed one finger inside the exposed hole. It
didn’t wake Nick, so he moved it around, slicking the hole before pressing back
in with two fingers. Nick sighed and murmured his name, spreading his legs
further in his sleep. By then, Gil’s cock was as hard as iron and he wanted
nothing more than to bury himself in Nick, but kept tight control. Preparing
his slave with agonizing slowness, stretching the hole with first two, and then
three fingers. Nick’s breathing had increased, and the familiar flush of
arousal spread over his back and shoulders, but every time he started to wake,
Gil would stop everything and let him settle back into sleep.
Finally deeming Nick prepared enough, Gil stroked
his aching cock so that he teetered on the edge, rubbing the lube onto it.
Carefully shifting Nick onto his side to make penetration easier, he eased into
the loosened flesh, biting back a moan as he was slowly encased in Nick’s hole.
Not stopping until he was all the way in, Gil took a few minutes to savor the
incredible heat clinging to his cock. He was so close, balls drawn up tight,
cock aching for friction, but Gil delayed his release, loving that he was part
of this man.
Reaching around front, Gil caught the half-hard
shaft in his hand and began to pump it in gentle movements. Nick’s breathing
again sped up, his body climbing fitfully towards the waking world, tightening
in degrees around Gil. Gil shuddered as Nick started fucking himself on even
before he was truly awake, whimpering and gasping as he arched forward into the
hand on his dick and impaled himself back on the cock inside.
Unable to control himself at the last, Gil pushed
Nick down and humped into him, biting down on the shoulder as he came, grinding
into Nick as he felt the slave come with a full-body shudder, ass clamping
tight on Gil’s cock. Panting and sated, Gil collapsed on the broad back and
nuzzled at Nick’s throat, his shaft still spitting come as it jerked through
the last of the orgasm.
“Gods, Master,” Nick moaned. “So good.”
Chuckling, Gil kissed the other man and ordered
softly, “Go back to sleep, Nicky. I love you.”
“Love you too, Master,” Nick murmured with a yawn.
Buried tight in his slave, Gil followed him down into
dreaming.
* * * *
To Tony’s pleased and embarrassed surprise, Gibbs
returned him to his nude state three more times before the end of their
vacation. Since it kept his Master randy as a goat, there was no chance that
Tony was going to complain, even though his own hard and eager cock was visible
to everyone; man, woman, and child. It was different here, in the heart of the
Empire. Naked slaves, aroused and not, were simply a part of life, unlike back
in the States. Tony knew that if Gibbs ordered him naked back home, it would
either be punishment, or a declaration of some sort. Here, it was just an
anonymous thrill.
The rest of their vacation passed far too quickly
with day trips back to the beach and an excursion to the Naval base where Gibbs
had lunch with friends stationed in Roma. Tony knelt silently at his Master’s
feet, happy to show off for his Master by being as perfectly behaved as ever a
slave was. It was more than he’d ever had a right to hope for, this kind of
life, when he’d been tossed in the Pens. Even the knowledge that his family had
disowned him for his choice didn’t detract from his pleasure in taking care of
Gibbs.
If anyone deserved to be cared for, it was the
Gunny.
The day before they were scheduled to leave found
them driving out of the city, but Gibbs wouldn’t tell Tony where they were
heading. A little hyper with curiosity, he bombarded the other man with
question after question, despite being told to calm down. Finally, Gibbs pulled
the car over to the side, yanked Tony awkwardly over his lap and delivered a
painful spanking.
Wiping his face clean of the tears that had fallen,
Tony sniffled and sat gingerly back in his own seat when he was allowed up from
Gibbs’ lap. Contrite, knowing that he’d pushed too hard, Tony apologized, “I’m
sorry, Master.”
“Are you calm now?” Gibbs questioned.
Tony nodded and promised, “I am.”
“Good. Now close your eyes and don’t say another
word until I stop the car.”
Doing so, Tony had no choice but to feel the heat in
his ass. It was distracting and soothing, all at once and he grew sleepy as
time rolled on and the car kept going. He woke when the rental came to a sudden
stop and looked around in surprise, not recognizing where they were at all. It
looked like…a graveyard?
Tony looked over at Gibbs, but his Master was
already climbing out of the car, so Tony followed suit and met him at the
trunk. Inside, there were potted flowers and he gave Gibbs a confused look.
“Master? What’s going on?”
“Grab the plants and come with me,” was all he was
told.
Bemused, Tony did as he was told and followed Gibbs,
who picked up a watering can, trowel, and spade, into the graveyard. They
walked through a maze of old and new headstones, some so old the names were
faded and the edges crumbled and jagged. He couldn’t figure out what was going
on. Gibbs wasn’t an Italian name, so it wasn’t likely that there was family
here. Maybe a friend in the service?
It wasn’t until they stopped in a newer section of
the cemetery, in front of a large monument with ‘DiNozzo’ carved into the
marble, that he understood. Turning startled eyes to the other man, he
exclaimed, “My family’s marker?”
Gibbs nodded. “You said you never got a chance to
say goodbye. I found out that your Grandfather had been shipped here to be
buried on the ancestral plot and not with your Grandmother in
“But, those aren’t native, you must’ve paid a
fortune to get them here,” Tony protested, his emotions spiraling out of
control. “You shouldn’t have…”
Dropping the tools, Gibbs covered Tony’s mouth with
his hand and stated, “You need to get some peace, Tony, and I think this will
help. Take as long as you need, I’ll be at the car.”
After a short, sweet kiss, Gibbs turned and walked
away, leaving him alone.
Tony stared at the massive, expensive monument for a
long time without making a move to get started on planting. He was frozen, not
sure what he should do, knowing how his family felt about him. It would do them
a dishonor to even be at the gravesite.
But this isn’t about them, Gibbs’ voice argued in his head. This is about you and your Grandfather, which is a relationship they can’t take away.
And Tony smiled wistfully, knowing that was true.
Kneeling, he picked up the trowel and started hacking into the ground. It didn’t take all that long, once he got started, and the afternoon sun was warm, but not too hot, so it made for an almost pleasant occupation. The cemetery was certainly peaceful and he felt the nervous energy that had been plaguing him for the last couple of days finally dissipate. It was almost like his Grandfather was there, calming him with his presence, just as the old man always had.
When he was done, Tony smiled at the monument and said, “Thanks, Grampa, I appreciate the help. I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you needed me most, but I guess you know what happened. Even though I know none of it was my fault, I can’t help but be sorry about it. Maybe if I’d been more like Dad wanted, none of it would have happened. But then I wouldn’t have met Gibbs and I wouldn’t trade any of it, if it meant we weren’t together like this. I love him so much, Grampa, that it scares me sometimes. You’d like him, you know. Very put together. Strong enough to keep me in line. I hope you’re at peace now, Grampa, I love you. Bye.”
Picking up the tools and empty containers, Tony took one last look and headed back towards the car, feeling lighter all the way through.
* * * *
When they made love that night, Tony couldn’t remember feeling closer to anyone in his life. It was like his life was laid bare to the man moving over and in him. There was a new depth to the way he gave himself over to his Master’s care and love. An extra level that he hadn’t even realized was missing, until it filled him up.
Tony knew, truly knew, that there wasn’t anything Gibbs wouldn’t do for him. He felt it, down to the bone. As he shook with the force of Gibbs’ body taking his, Tony ached to be even closer, to have their bodies come together, locked together. For Gibbs to somehow crawl inside and own him down to the last nerve-ending.
It was literally a revelation when he came, feeling Gibbs’ strain and thrust into his body. Tony understood why people called it ‘the little death,’ his heart stilling, his breath stopped, and his seed spurting between them. It wasn’t until Gibbs slammed into him a final time and came that Tony gasped for air again, his body collapsing onto the bed. His Master ground into him, cock hot and heavy, drilling as deep as it could go and filling him to overflowing with seed.
Panting and shaking, Tony wrapped weak arms around his Master’s sweaty shoulders, cradling Gibbs against his chest. Not withdrawing from his body, Gibbs instead just shifted slightly so that he could suck lazily on a nipple, tongue playing with the hoop and eliciting a shiver, though there was absolutely no way that Tony’s body could respond. Chuckling, he said, “I’m dry, Master. Not going to get anything else from me.”
Tony’s eyes widened in alarm when Gibbs pushed onto his elbows, a wicked glint in his pale eyes, and questioned, “Is that so?”
He groaned when the mouth returned to his nipple, insistent.
* * * *
They’d just gotten through Security, finally, when Gil spotted Jethro arguing with an Airport Security Officer. Tony stood to the side, aggrieved and translating, even though Gil knew very well that Gibbs spoke perfect Italian. Gil grinned. It looked like they were all on the same flight back to the States, at least as far as New York, where they split up to different parts of the country. Since he was sorry they hadn’t been able to get back together before the end of the vacation, he herded Nick over to them and greeted, “Jethro? Is there a problem?”
With a last glare of the Security Officer, Jethro shook his head. “Not anymore. They weren’t going to let me take the antique knife that Tony picked out for me, back to the States.”
The Officer muttered something in Italian that sounded like a curse, but left them and allowed the luggage to pass.
“Surprised they’re letting you,” Gil said. “Security’s so tight these days.”
“Master threatened to stay in
Jethro swatted him sharply on the ass, but Tony’s grin only widened. Snorting, Jethro asked, “Thirsty?”
“And hungry,” Gil confirmed.
They all walked over to one of the restaurants and sat down to an insanely early breakfast. Gil kept Nick sitting beside him in the booth and was surprised when Tony sat on the floor beside their table, but didn’t say anything. Something had clearly happened between them in the last few days. There was an almost palpable energy flowing between them.
The waiter came over with menus and Jethro ordered a cushion for Tony at the same time as they placed the drink order. It was a leisurely breakfast, since they now had two hours before the flight was called. Getting through security was what took the longest and, since they weren’t there in an official capacity, they had to go through the same rigmarole as everyone else.
Time passed swiftly, though, as he chatted with Jethro and Tony, finding out more about life as an NCIS agent. It wasn’t all that much different from what he did, except there were a great deal more rules to be dealt with and the criminals almost invariably knew how to shoot back, if it came down to it.
On the plane, Nick curled up over him and drifted into sleep with his head in Gil’s lap. Jethro and Tony swapped seats with another couple and took up the two seats just across the aisle, making continued conversation easy. There was a mildly embarrassing moment before Nick woke all the way and nuzzled into his groin, causing Gil to harden and prompting his slave to automatically start sucking him through the fabric. He shuddered and woke Nick, stopping the slave from going any further.
Jethro just gave him a wink and turned his attention to Tony, giving them some privacy.
“Master?” Nick asked, sleepy and confused. “Something wrong?”
And with him looking so mussed and sweet, Gil could only shake his head and kiss him as gently as he knew how before answering, “Not a thing. Still tired, baby? Or do you want something to drink?”
Nick smiled at him as he stretched and asked, “A coke? It would wake me up.”
“That’s fine,” Gil allowed, flagging down an attendant.
Coke in hand, Nick wandered over to sit with Tony, the two younger men talking animatedly about sports and college life.
Jethro shook his head ruefully and observed to him, “He might not get Tony to shut up, now.”
But it was said with love and indulgence, so Gil wasn’t worried.
The rest of the flight passed without incident, though
they did make one more entry into the Mile High Club, a few hours out from
They were, indeed, on separate flights once they reached La Guardia. It was there that goodbyes were exchanged and promises to keep in touch given. With his arm around Nick’s waist, Gil watched Jethro and Tony disappear into the crowd and wondered when they might have a chance to visit DC. It was, after all, somewhere else Nicky had never been.
Pinching his slave hard enough on the ass to earn a gasp, Gil grinned and said, “Time to go, Nicky.”
Nick smiled at him and they started walking in the other direction, towards the airline that would bring them home.