The flight turned out to be
delayed for four hours, and then canceled altogether, leaving them scrambling
to make a hotel reservation along with two hundred other passengers who weren’t
lucky enough to live in
He was also a little concerned about the effect being in NYC might have on Tony. They could easily run into someone he knew growing up, before he’d become a slave. Despite coming to terms with what had happened in his family, and the visit to the graveyard, Tony was still fairly fragile when it came to his emotions and insecurity. Jethro was relieved when they arrived at the hotel without incident.
There was a line to check in, no surprise there. He was content to wait, with the way Tony hung on him, arms around Jethro’s waist and stomach, face tucked in at Jethro’s throat. Finishing with the paperwork didn’t take too long and he had the man make dinner reservations for them in the dining room.
The suite was on the lesser side of impressive, one of the best, but not the best, but that didn’t bother Jethro. As long as they had somewhere safe to sleep and Tony had all he wanted to eat, that was all the mattered. Smiling fondly at the sight of Tony scarfing down a few of the complementary chocolates, he accused, “Bottomless pit. You’re going to eat me out of house and home, slave.”
Tony grinned and sidled over to him, kissing him and trading him some dark, sweet chocolate. When he pulled back, Tony pointed out, “We’re not at home.”
“Mmm. True,” Jethro agreed, taking his mouth in another, deeper kiss. He broke it off before it could get too involved, hearing Tony’s stomach rumble. Chuckling, he tweaked Tony’s nose and slapped him lightly on the ass before saying, “Time for supper, my own.”
With a brief grimace, Tony hurried to the door and held it open for him, as a proper slave should, then goosed him as he went by.
Jethro jumped, then spun around, pushing Tony up against the wall, grinding a thigh against his slave’s groin and biting him sharply on the throat. Tony moaned, legs spreading, but Jethro pulled back, leaving him there to walk to the elevators, hiding a grin as he went.
There was a muffled curse from behind and Jethro chuckled to himself.
* * * *
Even though he knew that he’d started it, goosing Gibbs that way, Tony could help a mild sulk when he didn’t get the claiming he’d been hoping for. Or at least a sound spanking. Dinner was in an elegant dining hall, accented with the dark gleam of old, polished wood and the very well paid, bejeweled flesh of free men and women who served the rich and elite. Gibbs’ rank alone would have guaranteed their entry. Add to that the modest fortune he’d accumulated over the years and Tony’s inheritance, and they were very well taken care of.
“Tony.”
Looking up from his food, Tony replied, “Yes, Master?”
“What’s wrong?” Gibbs questioned.
The problem was that he had no metal ring under which to kneel. He remembered the promise he’d made, shortly before being marked, to do so if he couldn’t find the words to ask for what he needed. Forcing a smile, he finally answered, “Nothing, Master, I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”
His stomach made a liar out of him, choosing that moment to rumble, and he sighed.
“Okay, enough of this,” Gibbs stated sharply. “On the floor, right now.”
Startled, Tony scrambled from his chair and hurried to kneel beside his Master.
Gibbs bent down, one hand almost painfully tight in Tony’s hair, and informed him, “You’re going to eat every bite I give you, slave.”
Tony would have nodded, but his head was held too tightly.
Releasing him, Gibbs waved to a server and requested, “A fruit and cheese plate, thank you.”
The server, a beautiful young woman with thick, red hair nodded and scampered away. Tony almost whimpered when his Master’s gaze followed the scantily clad woman’s body on the way to the kitchen. Was he not good enough to keep Gibbs’ attention for longer than a few months? Did he already want a woman to bed?
A piece of chicken pushed at his lips and Tony automatically opened to take it between his lips. He didn’t really taste it, too miserable to enjoy the delicious meat as it was finger-fed to him by his Master. A fork with some potatoes and carrots were interspersed with the chicken and then the server returned with the plate of fruit and cheeses. Gibbs held a glass of wine to his lips and Tony dutifully took a sip of the heady liquid.
There was a pause then as Gibbs ate the rest of his meal and Tony found that he felt better with a full stomach. He was still upset about Gibbs ogling their server, but no longer despondent over it.
Well, not too despondent, Tony amended with a sigh. Story of my life. Find someone, things go great, then it goes to hell in a handbasket.
The difference this time, of course, was that he had no choice in the matter of what Gibbs did. Infidelity counted not a bit, since Tony was his slave, even a favored one.
“Oh my God it is you! Tony!”
Jolted from his thoughts, Tony’s head snapped over to find David Wilks, an old frat buddy, standing a few feet away looking as shell-shocked as Tony felt. He started to stand, then thought better of it and looked to Gibbs, pleading. There was a faint irritation there, probably only Tony would notice it, but Gibbs nodded and Tony hopped to his feet.
“Wow, you’ve changed,” David observed, gaze lingering as he looked Tony over, head to foot and held out a hand.
Tony flushed and grinned at him, taking the hand as he replied, “All for the better, Sir.”
“Oh cut the ‘sir’ crap, it’s David, no matter your status now. No need to be formal with someone who’s paddled your ass red and vice versa,” David teased. He grew a little serious and squeezed Tony’s hand as he said, “I’m sorry about your father, Tony. I can’t believe he did that to you, or your grandfather.”
The sincerity closed Tony’s throat and he replied softly, “Thanks, David, that means a lot.”
“So, I gather this is your Master?” David questioned, looking beyond him.
Tony had felt Gibbs’ presence directly behind him only a second before David’s words and hastily introduced, “Master Gunnery Sergeant and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, this is Master David Wilks, of the Feritand Family by way of marriage.”
The two men shook hands, clearly measuring, and exchanged short nods.
“You two know each other through college?” Gibbs questioned.
Tony nodded and told him, “We were frat buddies and he warmed the bench for me during basketball games.”
David laughed easily at that and agreed, “I sure as hell did. No one could touch Tony on the courts, that’s for damned sure.”
“Would you, ah, can he join us, Master?” Tony asked, hesitant.
Gibbs nodded shortly. “Of course.”
David half-smiled and said, “That’s okay, I don’t want to intrude. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“We’re leaving by
Nodding at Tony’s information, David promised, “I’ll be bright and early. You two enjoy the rest of your dinner.”
Tony and Gibbs each shook David’s hand again and then he was gone, heading for the lobby. Tony sighed and took his place on the floor again.
* * * *
Dinner couldn’t have gone worse if Jethro had planned it that way, but he wasn’t sure why. Glaring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he sighed and wondered if it was just post-vacation blues, even though they hadn’t yet arrived home. The reality of life could be dragging Tony down, but there was no way to get around it. And he knew that Tony enjoyed working at NCIS, he loved it, matter of fact, so that wasn’t it.
Maybe he’s just tired of having a cranky old gunny to deal with, Jethro silently observed to himself on the walk back to the table.
He hadn’t, after all, missed the way Tony’s handshakes with Wilks had lingered, or how the slave had sighed when his old friend had left. More than a little ticked at his slave’s behavior, Jethro wondered, And what the hell was that paddling remark all about, anyhow?
Jethro stopped short on seeing that Wilks had returned and was not just talking to Tony, but had his hand on the slave’s shoulder. Fury slammed into him when that hand slid down Tony’s back in a way too familiar manner and Jethro stalked over to them. “What the hell are you doing?”
Both men jumped in surprise, but where Tony just looked confused at Jethro’s hard tone, Wilks had a smirk on his face.
“I forgot something in my room and as I walked back, I saw Tony was alone, so I thought I would keep him company,” Wilks replied smoothly. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think that he’d been abandoned now, would you?”
Given that they were in a public place where the maitre d and serving staff both knew to whom Tony was attached, the possibility was practically zilch.
“We were just catching up, Boss,” Tony started.
Glaring at Tony, he snapped, “When I want your side of the story, I’ll ask for it. On your knees, now!”
Tony dropped instantly, going down into the submissive pose without waiting to be told, face to the floor and hands above his head.
“And the day I want your hands on my slave,” Jethro continued in a low, hard voice. “is the day that I’m not here to stop it. If I see you near him again, I will Challenge you.”
Wilks held up his hands in mock-surrender and replied, “You’re going to have a long, hard life if you can’t take men appreciating him. You’d best get used to the fact that he’s always going to be wanted by others.”
Jethro took a threatening step forward and the man walked quickly away. Looking down at where Tony knelt on the floor, Jethro nudged his ribs with a boot and ordered, “On your feet, slave. Time to put you back in your place.”
It didn’t take much to see that Tony wasn’t in the least bit apprehensive about what that might entail. As they walked back to the elevator, Jethro wondered if maybe the slave had subconsciously been acting out in an attempt to get punished. There had been that goosing incident before dinner, after all.
Jethro thought about it all the way to the room.
* * * *
Tony’s heart was pounding, but not in fear. It wasn’t that he’d been trying to provoke Gibbs, he didn’t like making the other man angry or upset, but now that he had, he got to enjoy the fruits of his accidental labor. He wondered, sometimes, if wanting to be beaten and Claimed was twisted, or indicated some kind of mental defect, especially considering his time in the Pens. He never wanted to go through that again, but couldn’t deny how much he wanted to be taken by his Master, often as roughly as possible, and certainly whenever Gibbs felt like it, with or without his active permission.
It was such an inherent contradiction, that he couldn’t help thinking there was something wrong with him. On the other hand, it was hardly a unique way to be, so he wasn’t going to worry about it all that much.
Inside their suite, Tony immediately dropped to his knees beside the door and waited for instructions.
Gibbs, however, ignored him and walked to the phone. The one-sided conversation held only one point of interest for Tony, which was, “I’d like a leather crop, good quality, brought to my rooms immediately. When? That’s fine, thank you.”
Tony shivered when his Master circled him moments later, the other man silent as he did so. Then a bare foot pushed between his shoulder blades, nudging him forward. Tony went down into the submissive pose willingly, sighing deeply as he did so.
“I’ve come to a decision about you,” Gibbs began. “And I doubt you’re going to like it, but I really don’t care. Every morning, I am going to beat your ass red. Every morning, without fail. I might use my hand, or a paddle, or a crop, or even a whip, but it will be done every single morning until you can barely sit down. I’m also going to get your dick pierced the moment we get back home. Between the two, I think you’ll finally remember exactly who owns you.”
Shuddering, Tony’s cock hardened almost completely in response to the hard words. He had no doubt that they were meant, every single one of them, and couldn’t even imagine being so sore that he couldn’t sit down every day. And getting his dick pierced… Tony moaned, not even caring that it was a begging sound.
“That’s right, slave, you’re going to feel me every minute of the day. I’m going to keep your nipples clamped and your dick chained and your ass raw.”
“Please, Master!” Tony gasped, hips undulating.
The heavy swat of Gibbs’ hand to his ass was unexpected and startled him, even as muted as it was through his pants. “Get naked, right now.”
Tony instantly stood and yanked his clothes off, folding them and rushing them over to the dresser, before kneeling back in the center of the room.
“No,” Gibbs said sharply. “Bend over the dresser, in front of the mirror. I want you to see what’s happening to you. And if you come, you’ll be in a chastity belt for the next month with no relief in sight, slave.”
Moaning at the threat, Tony did
as ordered and put his hands on the dresser, facing himself in the mirror. He
was flushed and his eyes glittered more than the lighting could account for. A
knock at the door had Gibbs receiving the equipment he’d asked for, and then
placing them on the bed. He watched as the Gunny grabbed their suitcase and dug
through it, pulling out clamps that he’d bought in
Gibbs brought them over and attached the pair to Tony’s nipples. He gasped in shocked pain at first the squeeze of his nipples by the metal, and then the weight that pulled his flesh down. Glancing down at the pendulum-like motion of the weights, he groaned on seeing that there were only two of the seven weights in place on each. It felt like his skin was going to be pulled right off but clearly, it wasn’t.
The lash came down on his ass before he could fully adjust to the pain in his chest and he yelped loudly. It was unrelenting and unpredictable, slicing into his body from his lower thigh, to over his ass, and anywhere between and over his shoulder blades. The only time Gibbs stopped was to add another set of weights to the clamps, at which Tony howled, endorphins surging to counteract the agony he’d been seeking, and was getting, in spades.
It seemed to go on forever and he caught only snippets of himself in the mirror, despite being right in front of it. Flashes of his open-mouthed panting. Glimpses of a sweat and tear-streaked face. An occasional, hypnotic look at the weights that rocked forward and back in reaction to his body jerking at the impact of the crop. Mostly, he could only close his eyes and try not to come. A month in a chastity belt was not something he wanted to experience, and Tony had no doubts whatsoever that Gibbs would follow through. It wouldn’t, after all, diminish his access to Tony’s body for his own release.
When the lashing stopped abruptly, Tony was barely able to keep his feet. He was flying high, hardly feeling the throbbing agony his muscles cried out in.
“Is that better, my own?” Gibbs murmured in his ear. “Is that what you’ve been wanting?”
Tony sobbed as he nodded and begged, “Please Master, please Claim me, please use me!”
“Oh I will,” the other replied darkly.
That was the only warning he got. Gibbs’ hands gripped his ass, pulling the cheeks apart and thrusting inside in one short, hard shove. The Claiming began immediately and Tony moaned in pleasure as his Master made sure his inside matched the fiery pain of the rest of his body. His cock was just as merciless as the crop, battering into Tony’s body, forcing acceptance and submission from a body that was already more than willing.
Gibbs wrapped around him, chest hair scratching against the welts over his back and provoking another cry. Tony held on to the dresser for dear life as he was fucked brutally hard, begging in wordless sounds for more, beyond the desperation to come, aching only to please the man he adored, the one who knew him better than anyone else.
And then the word he’d been hoping for, but sure as hell not expecting... “Come,” hot and harsh against his ear, accompanied by a bite to the fleshy juncture beneath. On complete overload, Tony thrust into the empty air and came, splattering his seed all over the dresser and mirror, his senses crashing into themselves without a touch to his cock or a nudge to his prostate.
He was barely conscious when Gibbs humped into him hard enough to bruise, pelvis and hips banging against Tony’s body as he came. Floating happily and without a care, Tony slid into darkness.
* * * *
Glad that he’d had the foresight to have Tony already leaning on something for support for when he blacked out, Jethro panted and rested his head against Tony’s back to catch his breath. They were both slumped over the dresser, though Jethro mostly held Tony up to make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt himself. A few minutes later, he sighed in contentment and pulled slowly free from his slave’s body. There was definitely blood on his cock, which made him wince, but first things first. He shouldered Tony and carried him to the bed, laying him on his stomach and propping him on a pillow where he promptly started snoring and, moments later, drooling a bit.
Chuckling fondly at the sight, Jethro combed his fingers affectionately through the sweaty hair and went to get the first aid kit. He called the front desk for a doctor to check out Tony on the inside, to make sure stitches weren’t needed, and then gently washed all of the marks, checking to be sure no skin had been broken, then began rubbing topical anesthetic on Tony’s welts. He was just about done when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Wiping his hands on the towel he’d snagged, Jethro answered it and found a dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties on the other side. She had that competent, don’t-mess-with-me air as she took in the state of the room and the slave on the bed.
“Can I help you, Sir?” she asked, lips thin with displeasure.
Ignoring her attitude, Jethro told her, “My slave may need stitches. Make sure he has whatever he needs to be healthy.”
She nodded stiffly and moved to the bed, medical bag in hand, and Jethro watched from the side. It didn’t take too long as she moved carefully, but swiftly. Once she was done with Tony’s anus, she scrutinized the welts and bruises before asking, “Did you clean them?”
“No, I called a doctor to give him stitches if he needed them because I’m really going to let him die of an infected welt,” Jethro replied sarcastically. “The skin isn’t broken anywhere, but yes, I cleaned him and gave him a topical anesthetic.”
She arched an eyebrow at him while peeling off the latex gloves and then informed him coolly, “Many owners don’t care enough to check.”
“I do,” Jethro stated. “Now, is he okay?”
“If okay means in extreme pain and barely able to move when he wakes, then yes, he’s fine,” she replied tartly.
His gaze narrowed at her, but Jethro only said, “Thank you, Doctor, I think you’re done here.”
She picked up her equipment and walked to the door with the instructions, “Keep him well hydrated, warm and comfortable over the next few days. He’ll probably be shocky from the beating he took.”
Jaw tightening, Jethro replied, “He’ll be fine, thank you.”
“You know, I see these kinds of things all the time,” she said. “And you all think that just because the victim gets off, it’s okay. Well, it’s not. You should be ashamed of yourself for treating another human being like that.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jethro repeated, fast losing his good mood as he reached for the door.
She left without another word, but the glare she sent his way was pure venom.
Glad to close the door between them, Jethro took a few minutes to just breathe. Returning to the contentment of before was definitely out of reach, so he climbed into the bed beside Tony and lay on his side, watching his slave sleep.
There was a lot left to figure out, like what had prompted Tony to need this in the first place, aside from general insecurity and maybe a flashback to Life Alone, as Tony called it. A phrase that Jethro had always heard with capital letters. It wasn’t, however, going to be solved overnight. He would have to spend some serious time breaking down the barriers that still existed between them before the harsh, physical release wasn’t needed so much.
Brushing his fingers over Tony’s cheek, he murmured, “What am I going to do with you, my own?”
Keeping watch over his lover for the rest of the night mostly returned that feeling of contentment and it was just before dawn that he fell asleep.