title: Romanology
fandom: CSI: Vegas
pairing: Nick/Gil
rating: R
warning: slave!fic, violence, D/s, blood-play, non-con, rough m/m sex, mentions of castration with the potential for actual castration down the line.
author: nancy
email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com
website: http://www.thetenthmuse1.madbrilliant.com/
feedback: yes, please!
archive: let me know!
summary: In a world where the Roman Empire never fell, Master Gil Grissom discovers the perfect slave in Nick Stokes.

 
“I finished tagging the evidence, and Cath’s talking to Brass about the witness statement, but she should be done in a little…Gris? Hello? Grissom!”

Gil’s head snapped over at Warrick’s exclamation. “What?”

“Did you hear a word I just said, man? What has got you so distracted, anyhow?” Warrick demanded, looking around.

Pointedly not looking back at the Pen he’d been staring at, Gil answered innocently, “Nothing. I was just thinking. And yes, I heard every word you said. I want you to have Greg run those fibers as soon as you get back to the lab. Have him fast track it.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Warrick snorted at that and replied, “Yes, Master Grissom, whatever you say, Master Grissom.”

Laughing softly, Gil reminded, “I could have you whipped for that.”

“Yeah, right,” Warrick countered, grinning. “Anything else?”

Gil thought a moment, then asked, “What do you think?”

“I think the dude’s wife is going to inherit a lot of money and position now,” Warrick answered.

Nodding, Gil agreed, “Where she had neither, before. It’s motive, but not opportunity. And besides, wives tend to use poison, even today.”

“Good point. All right, I’ll see you back at the lab.”

Gil nodded again and waited until both Warrick and Catherine had gotten into the SUV and driven off, pretending to look over some evidence on the ground. Not that he needed to pretend to do anything, but he definitely didn’t want to listen to their razzing if he was found ogling a slave.

On that thought, Gil’s eyes drifted over to the Northeast Pen of the slave market. It was only about ten yards away and mostly empty at this time of the month. The first of the month was typically a dry time, the middle of the month being when debtors collected and sold off the people who couldn’t pay.

This young man didn’t seem like a criminal, the typical occupant of the Pens at this time of the month. He was clean-cut and his eyes rarely left the ground, only occasionally looking at his surroundings and the people in it. It was the sign of a slave who had either been born to it, or sold as a child. Deference was written into his very body language. Drifting closer, Gil saw that the loose-fitting shirt did little to conceal a well-muscled body.

Then the slave’s head lifted for one of those few times and their eyes met. Gil’s breath caught at the innocence and beauty he found therein, even from a distance. The slave’s eyes instantly lowered to the floor.

Releasing a shaky breath, Gil took a moment to gather his composure. Approaching the Dealer, he asked, “What’s that one’s story?”

The stylishly dressed man looked over at the slave and beamed. “Master has excellent taste, if I may say so. His name is Nick and he’s been a slave since he was ten years old. His father was executed as a traitor and the rest of his family sold into slavery at the time. He has served in three honorable Houses. His first owner died of old age shortly after acquiring him. His second owner’s wife received him in a divorce settlement eight years ago and then four years ago, she fell on hard times and sold him. His last owner was murdered just last week and he fell into my hands three days ago.”

“So he was in police custody for the intervening days between the murder and when you acquired him?” Gil questioned.

“That’s correct, good Master.”

Gil looked thoughtfully at the young man and asked, “Does he have any education?”

“Oh yes, Master, he does indeed! He has finished the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree in science and technology.”

“And what sort of work did he do for his former owners?”

“He is a house slave, Sir. A personal assistant, if you will.”

“Mmm. I bet,” Gil murmured. “What sort of personal assistant?”

The Dealer met his gaze seriously and replied, “It is in part due to his diligence that his Mistress stayed afloat as long as she did. He has an excellent aptitude for mathematics and did her accounting the last two years that he belonged to her. And it was only because of him that she escaped such a fate of her own.”

“I suppose it’s too much to ask for him to be a virgin. Not at his age,” Gil murmured in regret.

Raising a hand and grinning broadly, the Dealer countered, “Not at all, Master, not at all. He is a virgin, despite favored odds to the contrary.”

Astonished, Gil’s eyes swept over to the slave. Nick’s back was rigid, which showed that he was listening to everything that was being said about him. Recovering quickly, he looked coldly at the Dealer and stated flatly, “Lying to increase the profit of a slave’s sale is against the law, and I do work for the Las Vegas Police Department.”

Round eyes widened in alarm and he said hastily, “No, Master Grissom, I make no false claims, I swear! My reputation is pristine and I certainly would not endanger it by…”

Gil held up a hand, cutting off the rest of the obsequious speech. “Just explain yourself.”

Nervous now that the hard edge of Gil’s power had been unsheathed, even just a little, the Dealer replied, “His first owner had a problem with either boys or men as sexual partners, I’m not sure which.”

“A Christian then?”

“Apparently,” the Dealer replied. Shrugging his personal bemusement of the belief system, he continued, “In any case, such was also the situation with the next owner. And when Nick was given to the wife in the divorce settlement, well, she’d left her husband for a woman…”

Gil winced. “Ouch.”

“Yes, exactly. So obviously she had no…designs…on Nick herself.”

“And his final owner?”

“No idea,” the Dealer admitted. “Not a Christian, had affairs with men in the past and apparently Nick was even his, well, type. But for whatever reason, he never touched Nick.”

“And you have proof of this?” Gil questioned skeptically.

“Polygraph.”

Thoughtful again, Gil gazed at the slave. While not impossible to beat a polygraph test, it was highly unlikely that a slave like this one would have come by the knowledge and skills to do so. It was a bizarre twist of fate that this young man would make it to… “How old is he?”

“Twenty-eight.”

That Nick would make it to twenty-eight years of age and still be a virgin. The thought of taking the young man’s virginity caused a shudder of need to go through Gil, but he had long years of keeping a poker face. None of his lust showed through to the Dealer as he said, “I want to speak with him.”

“Of course, good Master,” the man agreed deferentially with a slight bow.

Gil followed the Dealer to the gate where Nick was called over. He approached with downcast eyes, not once looking up, though Gil knew he’d heard every single word. The slave had to understand what Gil was thinking, even if he’d had no personal experience with sex. When the slave stood silently before him, head bowed and hands clasped loosely in front, Gil said quietly, “Nick.”

“Yes, Master?”

The voice was soft and held just a touch of a southern twang, Texas, if Gil wasn’t mistaken. Hearing Nick call him Master sent another thrill through him and an image of the young man writhing under him in pleasure and shouting for him flashed through his mind. Keeping his expression neutral, Gil commented, “I understand that you recently lost your Master to a murder. Were you injured?”

“No, Master. He…he protected me from the attacker.”

There was sorrow there, easily read in the tremor of the words. Gil was entranced by the lilting cadence and ordered softly, “Look at me.”

Obeying instantly, Nick met his gaze without fear. Gil found no trace of negative emotion anywhere in that look. No fear or uncertainty, just acceptance and trust. That told Gil all he needed to know. This slave was accustomed to being cared for, had most likely been a favored servant from day one with his first master. Filing that away for later, Gil said, “I understand you have had an education.”

Nick nodded and confirmed, “Yes, Master. My original owner, Lord Hiram, was very strict about that. He insisted that I have every advantage a slave can have.”

“Why is that, do you suppose?”

For the first time, Nick hesitated. “He was old, Master. I believe he thought that raising me and taking care of my needs would assure him a place in Heaven.”

“Were you raised Christian?” Gil asked curiously.

“No, Master. My parents were Olympians and though Lord Hiram instilled the Christian doctrines in me, I have never truly connected to them.”

Honest. A definite favor in the slave’s advantage. Smiling faintly, Gil asked, “Have you ever been with another slave, Nick?”

Flushing, Gil’s eyes dropped for just a moment before he dragged them back to Gil’s with an effort as he replied, “No, Master. There was…almost…once. One of the women in Mistress Yvonne’s mansion wanted to, but we were discovered before anything really happened.”

Gil moved closer, invading the young man’s space and stared into his eyes. “And what did ‘anything really,’ include.”

“Uh, kissing and, and she touched me on my, ah…”

“Cock,” Gil prompted, shifting even closer.

The flush darkened and Nick nodded jerkily, his breath increasing a little. “Yes, there.”

He couldn’t even say the word. Gil was just about ready to bend him over the nearest table and take him then and there, the need thrummed through him so tight. Forcing the impulse down, Gil slowly circled Nick, stopping just behind him and leaning in to murmur into his ear, “Sounds like she was very forward with you, Nick, touching your cock like that. Was she punished? Were you?”

A high, breathy sound escaped the young man before he cleared his throat and answered, “Yes, Master. We were both punished.”

“And what sort of punishment did you endure for letting her touch you?”

“I didn’t…! Um, I was caned, Master.”

Interesting. Nick had obviously been going to protest his innocence and, despite the fact that this Mistress Yvonne hadn’t believed him, Gil did. Switching to the other ear, Gil informed him, “Caning isn’t something I believe in, it’s not nearly permanent enough. If anyone touches you, I will make certain that the perpetrator is castrated and you will be beaten. Badly.”

There was a loud swallow and Nick whispered, “Yes, Master.”

Gil’s eyes landed on a bead of sweat trailing down the muscled neck and without thinking, he licked it up.

Nick moaned, a soft, not-quite restrained sound.

Smiling at the response, Gil pulled back and strode to the Dealer, who was facing the other way. Obviously a man who knew how to close a deal. “Get the paperwork taken care of now. I’ll wait here.”

The Dealer’s face lit up and he nodded, bowing a few times in happiness. The fact that Gil hadn’t even asked how much the slave cost told the man that it didn’t matter.

And it didn’t. With his position and power, not to mention his Spartan way of living, Gil had been sinfully wealthy for about a decade. Gil could have bought ten slaves of Nick’s quality and not had any trouble paying for them in cash.

Turning to look at his new acquisition, Gil found a strangely fearful expression on the young man’s face. It was quickly erased and for a moment, Gil couldn’t understand why it was there in the first place, when it hadn’t been before, during their conversation. Then he realized that Nick understood exactly why he’d been bought, and being a personal assistant had nothing to do with it.

Gil smiled.

* * * *

“You bought a slave at the crime scene?” Catherine demanded in disbelief.

Restraining a sigh of exasperation, Gil warned, “Not one word, Catherine.”

Amusement flashed in her blue eyes and she bowed, mocking, as she replied, “Of course not, Master. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Catherine…”

She laughed and held up her hands. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist, Gil. It’s just…you buying a slave. I thought you were a closet abolitionist, to be honest.”

Surprised, Gil shook his head and explained, “I’ve just never had a use for them. They get in the way.”

“And now?” Catherine questioned.

Gil followed her gaze to where Nick stood uncertainly in the hall outside of his office. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt, nothing to make him stand out as a slave, which was what Gil wanted. Though he wasn’t sure why. Shaking the thought from his mind, Gil admitted, “I have no idea. I just knew…when I saw him, I had to have him.”

Smiling, Catherine observed, “You always were a hopeless romantic.”

Eyes rolling, he demanded, “Do you want your assignment or not?”

“Yes, Master.”

Scowling, Gil held out a file and said, “Casino homicide.”

Catherine read the first page and frowned. “Grissom, this was last week.”

“I know. It’s Nick’s last owner,” Gil explained. “I want to make sure that the murder was as random as the cops seem to think.”

Understanding crossed her face and she stood with, “Not a problem. I’m solo on this, I take it?”

“Please.”

“Got it. I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Could you send Nick in, on your way out?”

She nodded and left. Gil watched with interest as she said something to Nick that caused him to flush a bright red before entering the office.

“What did she say to you?” Gil asked curiously.

Eyes downcast, Nick repeated, “She said you were, um, very demanding. In bed and out of it.”

Almost groaning, Gil shook his head in dark amusement and ordered, “Have a seat, Nick.”

Nick sat, but kept his eyes on the floor.

“Now, I know that the linoleum floor patterns are fascinating, but when we talk, you will look me in the eyes,” Gil commanded softly.

Instantly looking up, Nick apologized, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Gil smiled. “It’s all right. I’m going to lay down some ground rules so there aren’t any misunderstandings. First of all, while we’re on CSI property, or in the police department, or anywhere official, you will call me Gil, Grissom or, at worst, Sir. Do not refer to me as Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma…Grissom,” Nick amended.

“Good. Second, you do belong to me, and I fully intend to own you body, heart, and soul, but I expect you to think for yourself. The fact that you’ve been educated tells me that you have a brain and I expect you to use it.”

“Yes, Grissom.”

Funny how Grissom sounded a lot like Master. It was all in the tone.

“I’m going to set up a bank account for you and you will draw a paycheck from CSI as my assistant. That means you will have a lot of learning to do in the near future,” Gil informed him. “I want you with me on the job and eventually, you’ll become a CSI yourself, or a lab tech, or something here in this division. What position, is fully up to you. Pick something that interests you, something that will challenge you.

“I expect all of my people to do their best at all times, but I’m not a hardass unless I have to be. If you disagree with something I say, tell me. If you think that I’m wrong, I need to know and it’s your job to tell me.”

For the first time, distress showed on Nick’s face.

Gil paused, but the young man said nothing. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know if I can, Grissom,” Nick replied, eyes wide and upset. “I’ve never…I mean…”

Seeing that Nick was truly disturbed, Gil rose and swiftly walked around the desk. Of course he’d be upset. The young man had been a slave for most of his life and probably hadn’t truly thought for himself for that entire time. Stopping beside the chair, he cupped Nick’s face and tilted it up, smiling at him. “It’s all right. I know it’s a lot to take in, Nick. All you really need to know right now is that I’m not the kind of master who is arbitrary or unreasonable. Be faithful to me and I will care for you the rest of your life.”

Calming down, a hesitant smile surfaced on Nick’s face and he whispered, “Yes, Grissom.”

A knock on the door interrupted them and Gil cursed the timing. Looking over at the door, he waved Jim in and moved to lean against the desk. “What can I do for you, Jim?”

“I really don’t appreciate being dumped on like this at the last minute,” Jim replied, clearly aggravated.

Gil shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that, I’m sorry.”

“Grissom. This is a load of bull. You want me to work with the Sheriff!? That putz?”

Stifling a laugh, Gil turned a stern look on the other man and replied, “He’s good at his job, Jim, just like you are. The only difference is, he looks better on television.”

Jim grimaced. “Very funny.”

“Do you see me laughing?” Gil added a hint of steel to his voice and kept eye contact with Jim. As expected, the cop backed down, though he grumbled about it. Placating, Gil continued, “It won’t be that bad. I already talked to him and he’s going to do his best to cooperate.”

“That’s like getting a bull to promise he won’t break anything in a China shop.”

“Maybe. But it’s a start. And I expect you to be on your best behavior as well. Don’t make me go to the Regional Lordship to request a new division leader.”

Sighing explosively, Jim asked, “Can I at least say ‘I told you so,’ when he ruins one of my cases?”

Gil hid another smile. “Yes. You have full ‘I told you so,’ rights in this case, Jim. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Who’s that?”

“Jim Brass, this is Nick. Nicky, this is Detective Jim Brass, Division Leader of Homicide and one of my employees,” Gil introduced.

Jim’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the lack of a last name, an obvious indicator of slavery, but he nodded a greeting before looking back at Gil and asking, “You planning to work tonight?”

“Actually, I’m going to bring Nicky home and get him settled in. You’re in charge until Monday.”

“Wonderful.”

At that, Gil grinned. “Come on, Brass, you’ve been telling me to take time off for months now.”

Sourly, Jim replied, “Not when we’ve got five unsolved cases on the books and two new ones just tonight.”

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Gil said, unrepentant.

“Uh huh. All right. Have a good long weekend and I’ll call you if there’s something I can’t handle,” Jim said, heading for the door.

Gil returned the wave and was surprised to find a shocked expression on Nick’s face when he looked at the younger man. “Yes, Nicky?”

“He was…he insulted you,” Nick exclaimed.

Almost smiling at the indignant tone, Gil clarified, “He had a difference of opinion. Jim’s not the most diplomatic man in the world, so I give him some leeway. He’s very good at his job.”

Sighing, plainly confused, Nick said plaintively, “I don’t understand, Master.”

Not bothering to correct the misnomer given Nick’s agitation, Gil pushed off from the desk and held out his hand. Nick took it and he pulled the younger man upright, then into his arms. Turning them so that Nick was leaning against the desk, Gil stared into his eyes a long moment before saying, “You don’t have to understand yet, Nicky. Just trust me.”

Mouth slightly open and eyes wide, Nick nodded, swallowing heavily.

Smiling, Gil turned his head and nuzzled at Nick’s throat, licking up the muscled column to just under the ear. Once there, he lightly nibbled on the lobe, then sucked on it. Nick moaned, shuddering, and his hands tightened on Gil’s shirt.

“Mmm…so responsive Nicky, I can’t believe no one’s tasted you yet. You taste so good,” Gil whispered wickedly in the nearby ear. There was another shudder and Nick’s breath hitched. After placing a tiny kiss at the juncture of jaw and ear, he finished, “I’m going to get you home and then we’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Oh Gods,” Nick gasped.

Pulling back, Gil gave the other man a few moments to collect himself, then put his hand out again. Nick took it and gave him a tentative smile. Offering an encouraging one of his own, Gil said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

* * * *

For a man of his position and wealth, Gil lived in a very modest home. It was a simple one-story, hacienda style house, in shades of muted tans and beiges with accents of apricot and blue. His furnishings were comfortable and new, replaced like clockwork every two years. There were bookshelves all over the house and they were all full.

It was the decorations that spoke of his expensive taste and the money he had to indulge it. Original, understated paintings and sculptures adorned every room and there was a gold-encrusted scarab collection lining a glass case in the living room.

Gil watched Nick take in his new surroundings and smiled at the faint nod of satisfaction the younger man offered, probably without even realizing that he’d done it. Smiling, he said, “I don’t expect you to keep house, I have a cleaning woman for that. As long as you pick up after yourself, she’ll take care of the rest.”

Nick nodded again and asked hesitantly, “Where will I sleep?”

“With me,” Gil replied.

Another flush lined the handsome face and Gil wondered what it would take to keep Nick in a constant state of embarrassment; not a lot, he suspected. Closing the distance between them, Gil put his hand on Nick’s back and drew him in close. Wordless with anticipation, Gil leaned in to finally kiss the lips he’d been coveting since first spotting them in the slave market.

Sweet. Infinitely sweet and shy, just as Gil knew Nick would be. Groaning, Gil kissed him harder, his tongue probing at Nick’s lips, which opened a second after. Pushing his tongue inside, Gil tasted and devoured the younger man, not letting up for an instant, wanting more with every deep, sucking kiss.

Breathing hard, Gil pulled back and smiled fiercely at the dazed expression on Nick’s face. He seized the lips again, trying his best to memorize every tooth and palate ridge while his hands roughly massaged Nick’s back. They slid down and gripped the firm ass, squeezing the cheeks as Gil pushed a leg between Nick’s thighs and rubbed it against the hard cock he found there.

Nick gasped, arching against Gil, and moaned before going slack in Gil’s arms. Chuckling wickedly as he realized that Nick had just come, Gil pulled back enough to look at Nick again. Eyes closed this time, Nick’s face was the picture of bewildered ecstasy.

“Gods above, Nicky, you’re beautiful,” Gil murmured.

That roused him somewhat and Nick’s eyes lowered bashfully as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil said, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Nicky. I’ve been teasing you since the Pen, it’s only natural that you’d come so quickly. Now that the edge is off, let me give you a tour of the house so you know where everything is.”

Still embarrassed, Nick nodded and curled into the sideways embrace, his arm sliding around Gil’s waist as they started walking through the house. It was a short tour and Gil enjoyed the way Nick leaned on him throughout the entire time. They ended, of course, in the bedroom and once there, Gil parted from Nick just to look at him. The younger man was gazing around the simple bedroom, dominated by the large bed.

Gil had always enjoyed plenty of room to get to know his bed partners.

Flushing, Nick asked, “Um…should I be…doing something?”

“Oh you are,” Gil assured him, smiling as his eyes roamed over Nick’s body.

His hands reached out and held the bottom edge of Nick’s t-shirt, fingers rubbing against the soft, warm skin. Nick shivered visibly, eyes wide as he swallowed nervously but remained quiescent. Gil stepped even closer so that they were barely separated and pulled the shirt up. Nick’s arms went up obediently and the shirt was gone in a second, thrown aside and replaced with Gil’s hands. He massaged the broad chest roughly, tracing out the muscled abs with his palms.

“I, I don’t know what to do,” Nick said softly.

Gil kissed him, hard and deep, then broke it off to whisper, “I do.”

He pulled Nick in close and kissed him again, slow, soft and wet. Gil walked them towards the bed and it spoke of a trust already felt by Nick that the younger man didn’t once try to look where they were going. When they reached the bed, he broke the kiss and pushed Nick onto it. Nick lay there, looking up at him through hooded eyes that sent a shudder through Gil.

“They were wrong,” Nick said softly.

Gil frowned, hands on his own shirt, about to pull it off. “Who was wrong about what?”

Pushing onto his elbows, Nick explained, “I don’t know who they were, but a couple of men at the office called you the iceman while I was waiting outside your office. But you’re like fire, Master. I’m burning up, but I don’t even care. I want more.”

The words caused Gil to grab his own cock and squeeze to stave off the impending orgasm, his control slipping fast. Pulling off his shirt and then pushing down his pants and boxers, Gil half-grinned to himself at Nick’s gasp as the slave took in his naked body. He turned from Nick and moved to the bedstand table. Opening the drawer, Gil took out a cockring and snapped it in place, hissing in a combination of relief and frustration.

“Master?”

Nick’s uncertain voice prompted Gil to look at him and smile reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Nicky, I just want to be able to enjoy your first time as much as I hope you will. I wouldn’t want to come too soon and spoil things.”

Flushing, Nick’s eyes turned away.

Gil climbed onto the bed and straddled the young man, sitting on the hard cock and pushing it flat. Nick groaned and collapsed against the bed. Grinning, Gil leaned forward, resting his hands on Nick’s stomach, and said, “When you need to come, just come Nicky. I don’t want you to hold anything back. Never hold back from me.”

A visible shudder ran through Nick and he arched up into Gil’s heavy-handed caress. Dipping down, Gil sucked lightly on the warm skin then ran the flat of his tongue over the muscled torso. He stopped at a hard nipple and bit it lightly before sucking on it. Looking up, he saw Nick’s arms above his head, the strong hands gripping the wrought-iron headboard tight. He attacked the other nipple in a similar fashion, his fingers trailing over Nick’s body.

“Oh! Master! Oh!”

The warm splash of come against his ass caused Gil to grin fiercely around the flesh in his mouth. He shifted up and seized Nick’s open, panting mouth in an almost brutal kiss. His hands gripped Nick’s arms, pinning them in place even though Nick obviously wasn’t going to move them. His cock moved lazily over Nick’s abs, painting it with his pre-come.

Gil broke off the kiss and licked across the slight stubble on Nick’s chin. From there, he moved back down, pressing open mouthed kisses all across the torso until he was lying between Nick’s legs with the half-hard cock in front of his mouth like a prize. Licking his lips in anticipation, Gil looked up again to find Nick staring down at him in a combination of lust, confusion, and need.

“I’m going to eat you alive, Nicky.”

“Master! Oh!”

The latter was cried out because Gil started sucking fiercely on Nick’s cock, taking the respectable length a good way down. One arm rested over Nick’s abdomen to hold him down, because it was obvious the young man was struggling with keeping still as Gil sucked him with abandon. It had been a while since he’d had a partner that he’d wanted to do this with, so it took a while to work his way all the way down. When he pushed it down his throat, Nick cried out and his hips shoved up, his body straining for more of the sensation.

If Gil’s mouth hadn’t been full, he’d have been smiling broadly at the reaction.

As it was, he caressed and played with Nick’s balls, rolling and squeezing them gently with his fingers to add to the sensations. When he rubbed behind them, Nick shouted loudly and came, spilling down Gil’s throat. He swallowed it all, licking and sucking it tenderly until Nick stopped coming.

Pulling off the limp cock, panting and keenly feeling the desperate need to come himself, Gil saw that Nick was either unconscious or completely out of it. Smirking, Gil gripped the spent shaft and started stroking it again, using his other hand to play with the balls.

Moaning, throwing an arm over his face, Nick murmured, “Master, please…”

“Please what, Nicky? Look at me.”

The arm left Nick’s face and there was a pained expression as he gasped, “It’s, it’s too much. You’re too much.”

Gil left off playing with Nick’s cock and crawled up him, sucking hard on the sweaty skin as he went. He pulled Nick into his arms and held him tight, kissing him and trying to convey how precious the young man had already become to him. He couldn’t say the words, and probably never would given his past bad luck with love, but he could do everything else. When he stopped the kiss, he whispered, “I want you now, Nicky, I want to bury myself in your body and Claim you. It’s going to hurt for you, I’m sorry, but not for long, I promise.”

Curled up tight against Gil, Nick whispered back, “I want you to Claim me, I don’t care how much it hurts, Master. I’ve been waiting…forever…and now I know why. The Gods didn’t want anyone to touch me save you.”

Moaning at the words, Gil seized his mouth again and devoured it, plundered it fiercely. Breaking it off, he ordered hoarsely, “On your stomach, Nicky.”

Nick obeyed immediately, causing another shudder to run through Gil. This was his. All of this man. He wouldn’t castrate someone who dared to touch Nick, Gil would kill them. Man or woman, it didn’t matter. No one but Gil would ever touch Nick like this. When he was dead, he might even have Nicky castrated to make sure the younger man would never know any other hand. It might even be something Nick would ask for, given how fast and completely he’d accepted Gil’s mastery over him.

“Mine, Nicky,” he uttered, almost grimly. He bit at the warm back, hard, and continued, “My slave. My lover. My boy.”

Nick nodded emphatically and gasped, “Yours, Master. Only yours. Forever!”

“Spread your legs.”

Instant compliance and Gil dove into the body with his mouth again. Thrusting his tongue into the spasming asshole provoked a groan of pleasure from Nick, but Gil ignored it, concentrating on the need to ready Nick as much as possible. No lube for the Claiming, nothing between their bodies, nothing to separate them. He sucked and bit and probed with his tongue until Nick was pushing back against him.

Moving into position, Gil rubbed his cockhead around the opening, lubing it with his pre-come, which was still leaking steadily, despite the painful bite of the cockring. Then he pushed inside, breaching the virgin hole slowly. Nick moaned, but in pain this time. Going in stops and starts to try and allow Nick’s body to adjust, Gil panted in need as his cock was swallowed unwillingly by Nick’s body. The soul and heart might want this, but Nick’s body didn’t know any better and was fighting his invasion.

“Master! Oh, Gods, Master, it hurts,” Nick moaned.

Bending down, Gil bit sharply at Nick’s back to distract him. “Try and relax, Nicky, I know it hurts, but it’s worse if you fight me. Don’t fight me, give yourself to me, Nicky.”

And even though Gil knew they were futile words, since Nick didn’t know how to relax against this, the going was a little easier after that. As if by sheer force of will, Nick would force his body to obey.

Squirming under him, Nick panted, “Too much, too big, Master, I’m trying, I’m trying…”

“I know you are, you’re so good, Nicky, so perfect,” Gil assured him.

Unable to help himself, Gil thrust in the remaining few inches, burying himself completely in Nick’s body. A pained cry escaped Nick, muffled into the pillow, and his fingers were white-knuckled on the headboard. Gil stayed where he was, lying fully on Nick, his cock deep in the younger man’s body both to savor the moment of taking Nick’s virginity and to give him a chance to get used to Gil’s cock within him.

But Gil had to move, he had to claim this body as his, had to. It was an imperative that would not be denied any longer. Groaning in need, Gil shifted his position, settling on his fists and his knees for better purchase. That, of course, caused him to pull out a little. There were shuddery whimpers from Nick as Gil thrust in and out of his hole, pushing aside the virgin flesh and Claiming Nick’s body as his.

Thanks to the cockring, Gil lasted a lot longer than he ever would have otherwise. He fucked Nick mercilessly, striving to find the right angle that would change this from pain to pleasure. He was determined not to come until then, no matter the driving need for orgasm that was sizzling through his body.

And then Nick shouted and it was in pure pleasure, the other man arching up even before the cry ceased. Grinning fiercely to himself, Gil kept on that angle, doing it over and over and finding that Nick was shoving back on his cock, impaling himself in a desperate attempt to repeat the sensation.

“Oh, Master, please, please! More of that, need, too much, oh Gods, Gods, Master please!”

Gil’s body slammed into Nick’s, hard and fast, and when Nick screamed in orgasm, Gil unsnapped the cockring and shoved him down flat, humping savagely into the limp body. He came almost immediately, he seed spilling copiously into the abused flesh, and then spilling out of it. Eyes rolling back in his head, Gil dug his cock in as deep as it would go, taking all of Nick and Claiming the younger man until the sensations overwhelmed him and he tumbled into darkness.

* * * *

Nick woke mostly on his stomach with Gil still lodged partially inside him. His ass felt stretched and hot and pained, but he didn’t care. His Master was plastered along every inch of him with his arms possessively holding him tight, even in sleep. Smiling to himself, Nick made a tentative movement, as if to pull away.

Gil’s arms tightened as he muttered a sleepy protest. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere, Master,” Nick replied, rubbing his fingers over the arm around his waist.

Biting Nick’s shoulder sharply, Gil stated, much more awake, “That’s right. Not until I say so and I definitely do not say so. As a matter of fact…”

Nick cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as Gil pushed back into him, hard but on the right angle to catch that spot inside that burst pleasure in him. He was ridden hard, almost brutally so, Gil’s cock digging inside him as he rolled Nick flat onto the mattress. Moaning as the pleasure balanced just on the edge of pain, Nick panted and spread his legs even further, begging into the pillow for more.

“Fuck, oh yeah, Nicky, so sweet, so tight,” Gil gasped, humping into him.

It was only a few minutes before Nick couldn’t take it and spilled into the mattress. He was only vaguely aware of his Master shouting his own release and the hot seed that filled his body. The aftershocks ripped through him as his heart thundered in his chest. Coming back to himself slowly, Nick laced his fingers with Gil’s and brought it up to kiss the palm.

He was…overwhelmed…by everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. And that was putting it mildly. Only the feel of his master’s arms around him allowed Nick to stay quiet and content. Knowing how much the other man wanted and needed him sent a happy thrum through him and he sighed in deep contentment.

Gil nuzzled the back of his neck and asked, “You all right?”

“Yes, Master,” Nick confirmed sleepily.

“Mmm, good. Because I have the feeling that I’m going to want to start your training later.”

Interest perked Nick up a little and he repeated, “Training?”

“Last night was your first time and I wanted it to be special, for you to be free in your release whenever you needed it,” Gil replied, kissing his shoulder tenderly. He undulated a little inside Nick, who gasped in pained pleasure, and continued, “But normally, you won’t be allowed to come unless, and until, I say so. You exist for my pleasure, Nicky, and that means that sometimes, I’ll just want to play with your beautiful body. I’ll want to do many things to you in the future and you have to learn control in order to fully appreciate and enjoy those things.”

Nick shivered at the husky tone and continued, lazy use, of his body and murmured, “Whatever your will, Master.”

“Mmm, exactly,” Gil confirmed. He cursed when the phone rang and sighed. “Be still, Nicky, I’m going to pull out and it’ll hurt a bit.”

Which it did, but Nick missed the connection more than it hurt to be separated physically from his Master. Yawning, he winced when he stretched, the pain in his ass more now that he’d tried to move.

“I already turned that down, Catherine. No, I’m not…damn it! All right, R.S.V.P. for me that I’ll be attending plus one. Thanks. Oh very funny. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Turning on his side to face Gil, uncertainty rushing up at his Master’s angry tone, Nick questioned hesitantly, “Master?”

Gil smiled faintly and ran a reassuring hand over Nick’s flank as he answered, “Everything’s fine, Nicky. We have a party to attend this evening. Let’s get cleaned up and then we have to go shopping to make you presentable.”

Moving cautiously, Nick accepted his Master’s hand up and groaned when he straightened. “Ow.”

“Come on, Nicky, a hot shower will help that a lot.”

Nick grinned at the smug tone and slid his arm around Gil’s waist.

* * * *

A long, hot shower, and tutoring on how his Master liked to be sucked to completion later, Nick was feeling a lot more human. He was still sore, but had been given a pain reliever and had a full stomach, which helped divert his attention.

It was noon before they finally left the house in Gil’s late-model, black SUV. Nick barely stifled another groan as he climbed into the vehicle and sat down. He was very pleased at how happy his Master was about the Claiming, and thoroughly content in a way that he’d never before felt, but neither negated the literal pain in his ass.

They were in downtown Las Vegas within a half-hour and Nick couldn’t stop his mouth from gaping open at the opulent splendor so casually displayed. A touch of smugness of his own surfaced when the valet showed an obsequious nature on seeing Gil. He obviously belonged to a very powerful man and that suited him very much. It also pleased him that his Master was secure enough in his own position that he didn’t need to lord it over others.

A man of mystery, was his Master. Gil was a man of wealth and position who rarely showed either. His intelligence was clear, and yet he didn’t use it to belittle or make others feel stupid. And his relationships with his subordinates were staggeringly inappropriate, in Nick’s opinion, but it seemed to work all right in the limited view of what he’d seen.

Smiling at the proprietary hand that Gil placed at the small of his back, Nick asked, “Where are we going, Master?”

“To the jewelers,” Gil murmured. “I want to chain you.”

Nick shivered at the warm voice in his ear and the reason behind it. Slaves were fitted with an electronic, sub-dermal chip to keep tabs on their movements if they ever tried to escape. It was set deep inside, so that nothing except surgery could remove it. A chain or collar was used only to show the value of a slave to the world at large. The fact that a slave wore one said that he or she was prized, and the more expensive it was, of course, the more treasured the slave was.

“Do you like the idea, Nicky?” Gil asked.

Stopping in place, Nick looked into Gil’s eyes and breathed, “Oh, yes, Master. Please!”

Gil smiled broadly and leaned in for a short, hard kiss. “Good. Let’s go see what they have.”

They, turned out to be Cartier’s and Nick nearly passed out with shock when Gil led him through the doors. They were greeted by a smiling and yet serious associate, who brought them to a glass case, once Gil explained what he was looking at.

Gil took a single look at the ones on offer and shook his head. “I want a platinum and gold mix. Something delicate, but not too delicate, with diamonds throughout, and a flat disk in the center with my initials on it.”

The associate’s eyes widened a bit in surprise at the description, not nearly as much as Nick’s did, but the man recovered quickly. “Yes, Master Grissom. I believe I have exactly what you are looking for.”

Turning a stunned gaze to Gil when the man hurried off, Nick exclaimed softly, “Master, that will cost a small fortune!”

Gil tugged him into his arms and nuzzled his throat, then sucked lightly on his ear. “Then I suppose it’s just as well that I’ve got a fortune to spend on you.”

Held against the glass case, Nick shuddered at the thigh that pressed against him, just so. When Gil pulled away, he was dazed enough by sensation not to notice that the associate had returned. By the time he’d gathered his composure, Gil was nodding at something in a long, velvet box and saying, “Yes, that will do nicely. Have my initials engraved on it and be ready within two hours. We’ll be back then to collect it.”

The associate nodded and again, Nick was struck by the wonderment that his Master really was wealthy enough not to mention cost.

Once outside, Gil slipped his arm around Nick’s waist and said, “We might as well stop in at the office since we’re out. Then we’ll get you an outfit for tonight and stop somewhere to eat, how does that sound?”

Even though he knew the question was rhetorical, Nick nodded and replied demurely. “That sounds wonderful, Master.”

* * * *

Their second trip to CSI was almost as confusing as the first. A lot more alert than before, Nick took in his surroundings with interest. This was where, for whatever strange reason, his Master wanted him to work. Thinking it more likely that Gil just wanted him nearby, Nick tried to pay attention to everything that was going on.

He was photographed and given security clearance, and a badge made for him. It was strange to see his last name again, especially on an official document, but Nick didn’t question it. He’d almost been hoping that it would come out, ‘Nick Grissom,’ but knew it was too much to ask only a day after being bought. The fact that Gil was spending what amounted to a small fortune on his chain contented Nick and sent a thrill of pride through him.

“Gris! Grissom, hang up!”

Turning when Gil did, Nick found a tall, black man rushing over to them. He was handsome with chocolate skin and gray eyes.

“What is it, Warrick? I don’t have a lot of time,” Gil replied.

The man, Warrick, looked at Nick for a moment, then at Gil and said, “You were right, man. The fibers were from a purse, a very expensive, designer purse that was purchased by the wife. We’re getting a warrant for the house now.”

“Good job, Warrick,” Gil complimented, smiling. “Give Greg a special night or something.”

Wriggling his eyebrows, Warrick replied, “Already did, man. So look, about that Reynolds case.”

“Warrick…”

“It’s not fair, Grissom! Sara’s got less time in here than I do!”

“But she can work with Brass and not walk away with a black eye,” Grissom stated. “It’s her case, end of story.”

Scowling, Warrick complained, “Just because he’s a bag of wind means I get penalized.”

Gil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he said, “Look. You work a low-profile case with Brass and neither of you even comes close to coming to blows, and then I’ll consider giving you a high-profile one. All right?”

Still not happy, Warrick nodded. “Yeah, all right.”

“Good. Now then. Warrick Brown, this is Nick. Nicky, this is Warrick Brown, one of my top CSI’s,” Gil introduced.

“Hey, man, how are you?” Warrick greeted, sticking out a hand.

Nick hesitated, but accepted the shake at a nod from Gil. He smiled at the other man and answered, “Fine, thanks.”

“I heard the Mayor roped you into attending that thing tonight. You rent Nick?” Warrick asked curiously.

Gil’s hand descended possessively on Nick’s shoulder as he answered, “Nick belongs to me. We’re having a chain done up now and I thought I would get some details taken care of while we waited.”

Warrick grinned and crowed, “All right! It’s about damn time, man! You know how happy I’ve been with Greg. I can’t believe that you finally gave in, though. Thought you were a closet abolitionist.”

Eyes rolling, Gil replied, a little snippy, “Not that my philosophical thoughts on the status of abolition are anyone’s business, but just to make it clear to the grapevine, I am not, nor have I ever been, one of them.”

Saluting, Warrick said, “I’ll be sure and pass it on down the line.”

“You do that,” Gil agreed, snorting. “In the meantime, we need to get going. We still need to get Nick outfitted for tonight.”

Warrick nodded at them both and said, “Good to meet you, Nick, welcome aboard. Oh, and, watch out for this guy, he’s got a really big…”

“Warrick!”

Smirking at Gil’s scandalized tone, Warrick winked and sauntered down the hall.

Gil sighed. “Sometimes I think I really ought to flog him.”

“He is very disrespectful, Master,” Nick observed hesitantly. “Why don’t you?”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil kissed him slowly then answered, “People work better without the threat of physical punishment for speaking out of turn. I like to think that we’re the best crime lab in the country because of the free rein I give my people. And it’s Gil or Grissom in here, remember?”

Nick winced, having completely forgotten. “I’m sorry, Ma…Grissom.”

“It’s all right, Nicky. It will take you a while to adjust, I know. Come on, let’s go pick out your clothes, then get your chain and eat.”

It didn’t occur to Nick until they were out of the office that if Warrick had been going where he thought the black man was going with his comment, he would have had to see Gil naked at some point. Maybe even experienced…Nick shook that thought from his head.

What happened before didn’t matter. All that did matter, was making his Master so happy that he never even looked at anyone else again.

* * * *

The fitting was easy, since Nick was used to standing still for long periods of time, and it didn’t take too long. Black slacks and a flowing, blue silk shirt. From there, they returned to the jeweler’s and Nick practically bounced in excitement as the chain was clasped around his neck. Looking in the mirror provided sent a flush of happiness through him and he exclaimed, “Oh, Master, it’s beautiful! Thank you!”

Gil brought Nick in for a long, possessive kiss, then declared softly in his ear, “You make it so, Nicky.”

Even though he knew there was a stupid grin on his face, Nick couldn’t be bothered to care. He really felt as if the Gods meant for them to be together, the reason that he hadn’t been touched his whole life, save that once. And he hadn’t even wanted to be touched, it hadn’t mattered to him. He’d thought, with his last Master, that things would be different, but then he’d been killed. He knew, of course, that it was so he could belong to Gil. That, for whatever reason, the Gods had decided to twine the strands of their fates together.

When Gil finished signing something, he captured Nick’s hand and said, “Let’s go, Nicky.”

* * * *

They had a late lunch/early dinner and then it was back to the house to change. While they were there, Nick discovered that his Master had a slightly cruel, but very playful side, one with a bite to it. When he was nude, standing in the center of the living room, Nick flushed hot with embarrassment as his Master just stared at him.

“Control, Nicky, just remember that. Your body is mine and you have to master it to please me.”

Nodding, Nick just stood there, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long as Gil closed the distance and took hold of his half-hard cock. The stroking was rough and fast, hardening him the rest of the way in a very short time. Nick had to grip his thighs to keep himself upright as he fought for control of his body. Just when he was about to come, Gil took away his hand and ordered, “Don’t come! Don’t come, Nicky, or I’ll be very displeased.”

Moaning in agony, Nick struggled on the knife’s edge of pleasure, but slowly managed to keep a rein on his cock. Again and again, he was brought to the breaking point, only to be reminded, “Control, Nicky, remember? Your body is mine and you have to master it to please me.”

By the time he was finally allowed to come, Nick was desperate and babbling, pleading and begging for release.

And then the magic words… “Come, Nicky, come for me.”

Nick’s body exploded and he collapsed, panting, into his Master’s arms. Gil pulled him into his arms and brought him to sit on his lap on the large sofa. Shaking from reaction and the ecstatic torture he’d been put through, Nick clung to his Master. He was soothed by the gentle rocking and the firm, loving touch up and down his back, as well as the tender kisses to his forehead.

“So perfect, Nicky, so good. You did wonderful, incredible, for your first day of training,” Gil whispered in his ear.

Snuggling against his shoulder, Nick asked shyly, “I pleased you, Master?”

A warm chuckle echoed between them and Gil kissed the top of his head. “You pleased me very much, my boy, very much. Take a short nap because we need to get cleaned up for the party.”

Nick yawned and nodded, secure and content in his Master’s arms as he drifted into sleep.

* * * *

The Mayor’s palace, a place that Nick still couldn’t believe that he was in, was as opulent a building as he’d ever seen. Though dressed with as fine a quality as everyone else, Nick’s bare feet and chain designated him as a slave. The marble was cool under his soles, but clean enough to eat from, never mind walk barefoot on.

Gil’s possessive hand on his back was reassuring. He saw many interested and hungry looks as eyes slid over him. There were things in his Master’s manner now that he hadn’t before seen; a darker edge as his power was unveiled, but held in check. It was a heady mix and kept Nick half-hard just from being near it. He wanted nothing more than to cling to the older man and absorb his power in the most old-fashioned of ways, right here in the middle of everything. He wanted to show off his Master’s virility in any way possible, and so showed his submission, keeping his eyes downcast and standing as close to Gil as possible.

Gil leaned in close and murmured, “You’re the belle of the ball, Nicky, and you’re all mine. That’s the Mayor calling me over personally, even though we were just at each other’s throats last week over a case, and I won.”

Against the Mayor? Nick didn’t know whether to be aghast at his Master’s flouting of Senatorial authority, or proud of his strength in winning. He sided instinctively with Gil and followed meekly, kneeling gracefully when Gil came to a stop in front of an older man in a plain, but elegant suit.

“Master Grissom, how nice of you to join us!” the man exclaimed.

Nick couldn’t see anything from his viewpoint, but he felt the tension in Gil’s hand on his head and heard it in his voice when he said, “Thank you so much for inviting me, Lord Mayor. It’s an honor.”

“And who is this?”

“My slave, Nick.”

“Mmm. Delicious. I didn’t realize that you kept any slaves, Master Grissom.”

“Only Nick, Lord Mayor.”

“I can see why. I don’t suppose you would consider loaning him out?”

Nick’s stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. Though he didn’t move, Gil’s hand on his head tightened.

“I’m afraid not.”

“I’m not terribly surprised. I suggest you not let Master Crane see him as this slave is exactly his type.”

“Master Crane will find himself short a few vital parts if he thinks to touch what’s mine.”

And though the words were light, even humorous, there was an undertone of steel that sent a shiver of desire and fear through Nick. He concentrated on the gold flecked pattern of the marble to try and get control of himself.

“Quite understandable.”

Gil’s hand shifted to Nick’s shoulder and he ordered, “Let’s go, Nick. Thank you again for the invitation, Lord Mayor.”

On his feet right away, Nick followed Gil to the other end of the room where they went through a door. This was a smaller, empty room with only furniture and books, a study of some kind. Nick found himself shoved against the wall as Gil attacked his mouth, pinning him there. Then his pants were pushed down and Gil made his way down to suck his cock through the fabric. Nick moaned in pleasure.

“Quiet Nicky, don’t make any noise,” Gil admonished looked up at him with a wicked gleam in nearly serious eyes. “Consider this another part of your training.”

Nick’s jaw snapped shut on the protest that had almost automatically been made. He shoved a fist in his mouth as his cock was taken deep into his Master’s mouth and then pushed all the way in. He struggled to stay quiet, not to make a noise as the pounding of his blood grew. The fist helped block what little he couldn’t keep inside as his noises grew distressed with the need to come.

He would have begged for release, except that he knew now that Gil would let him come, or not, on his own whim. When Gil pulled off, Nick whimpered, tears of frustration in his eyes.

“When I’m all the way down, Nicky, then you can come,” Gil ordered.

Blinking away the tears, Nick nodded, panting, and waited. His cock was slowly enveloped and taken deep into his Master’s throat. When his mouth pressed to Nick’s pubic hairs and swallowed, Nick cried out and came, spurting his seed into his Master. A strong hand kept him upright as Gil gently tucked his spent cock away and zipped him up.

Gil stood and kissed him deeply, sharing Nick’s own seed with him, and he took it without hesitation. He would rather have had his Master’s seed, but this would do since it came from his Master’s mouth.

Smiling broadly, Gil fussed with Nick’s clothes for a bit then said, “All right, let’s head out. I suppose we’re presentable.”

Nick tucked shyly against his side as they left the room.

* * * *

Thoroughly sated and knowing that it showed in the sweaty shirt and hovering grin, Nick was glad of the tradition that kept his eyes down. This way he didn’t have to meet eyes with anyone who might get the wrong idea.

Sitting alone at the small banquet table, Nick was tempted to look around for Gil, but restrained himself. He’d complained about needing to mingle, but told Nick that it was necessary now and again and, since they were there, he had to renew some acquaintances. Nibbling on a chunk of pineapple, Nick had to lick his fingers, it was so juicy, then belatedly grabbed a napkin.

“Now there, is a sight.”

Nick froze at the unfamiliar voice, then continued to wipe his hands clean.

“A proper, well-mannered slave willing to put on a show like that is so rare these days. Grissom must be doing something right if he found you.”

Getting distinctly nervous at the continued presence, Nick couldn’t even speak back in defense of his Master. Not if he didn’t want to earn a beating for talking back to a freeman.

“Get up and come with me, slave.”

At that, Nick risked a quick look around for Gil, but found him nowhere near.

“Are you deaf, or just disobedient?”

Thinking that he might have found a loophole, Nick said softly, “My first obedience is to my Master, good Sir, and he ordered me to remain here until his return.”

“Your Master isn’t here, slave, I am. And in his absence, since he has abandoned you, I can do whatever I want to you.”

Which was the law, of course. An abandoned slave could be claimed by anyone of Master rank, and the official ring on the man’s hand denoted that rank. And yet, he hadn’t really been abandoned, because Gil was right here, somewhere, trusting that this place was safe to leave Nick on his own. Which of course it should have been. Masters didn’t go poaching slaves just because one caught their fancy, it simply wasn’t done.

“Now, slave.”

Except in these kinds of rare situations.

Dragging his heels as much as possible, Nick shrank from the tight hand that painfully gripped his shoulder, but had no choice except to follow the man. When he was pushed into the same small room as before, it was a completely different experience. There was no joy and no desire, just fear and humiliation and pain as the man’s hands touched him everywhere, pinching and twisting his body to suit his perverse wants.

He was crying, but didn’t even notice, so desperate was he to get rid of his attacker. He was thrown to the ground and his head connected painfully with the marble tile, enough to blur things, but not cause him to black out altogether. He felt the rough hands as they pulled his pants down and flipped him over. Felt the probing of a single finger to test his body and heard the hissed, “Perfect. Nearly a virgin, aren’t you, slave? I bet Grissom’s barely even had you more than a few times. Won’t want you after this, either, will he?”

Sobbing now, Nick shook his head, hands over his ears to block out the taunting words.

And then the weight on him was gone and Gil’s voice hissed, “Outside, Crane, now! Swords. I will have your life for this!”

A taunting, “Like you can move fast enough anymore, Grissom? I’ll own this pretty boy for real come the end of the night and then I’ll make him over so he doesn’t even remember who he is, let alone who you are.”

There was the meaty sound of a fist hitting flesh, but Nick was curled into a ball, trying not to listen to the exchange. He was disgraced, a ruin, a thing that his Master would never want to touch or kiss again. Gentle hands rested on his back and he flinched at the contact, whispering, “A dagger, Master, please, let me kill myself!”

Horror filled Gil’s voice as he exclaimed, “No! No, Nicky, oh my boy, never. Look at me, it’s okay, he’s gone.”

Fearful, Nick lowered his arms and looked up to find fury and pain on his Master’s face. Still crying he exclaimed, “I had to obey him, Master, I’m sorry, but I had to! I told him that you ordered me to stay there for you, but you weren’t there and he claimed the right of abandonment and I couldn’t say no to him and I’m so sorry! Please, let me kill myself to redeem your honor!”

“Oh, Nicky,” Gil breathed, his brow tight with pain.

Gil pulled at Nick and settled him in his arms, holding tight as he rocked them both. Nick cried out the fear and humiliation in the warm comfort of arms he’d never thought to have around him ever again. Holding tight to the shirt he’d wet with his tears, Nick finally got control of himself enough to gasp again, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Kissing the top of his head, Gil promised, “It’s not your fault, Nicky. Once I knew Crane was here, I shouldn’t have left you alone. I just didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to challenge me like this. It’s not your shame, Nicky, it’s mine. I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

Finally gathering enough courage to meet Gil’s eyes again, Nick saw that every word had been meant. Throwing his arms around Gil, Nick held tight and whispered, “Don’t die, Master, please don’t die.”

Gil chuckled. It was shaky, but definitely filled with warmth and his lips pressed to Nick’s temple. “Crane can’t touch me with a sword, Nicky. I’m going to kill him for what he did to you, slowly I might add, and then I’ll take you home and wash every trace of him from your body. After that, I’ll remind every part of you just who owns you.”

Seizing his Master’s lips in desire and desperation, Nick thrust his tongue inside. He moaned when Gil’s hand gripped him between the legs and his Master broke apart to mutter, “Then again, now works too.”

Gil ripped off Nick’s shirt and he threw it aside. “I should have just brought you naked, clad only in my marks and my chain. No one would have dared to touch you then, not even Crane.”

“Yes, Master, oh, Gods above! Yes!” Nick cried out when Gil sucked and bit at his nipples. Pain flashed through him as blood was drawn around his right nipple. He watched in amazement as his Master lapped up the oozing blood. Strong hands shoved his pants down and Nick helped to kick them off.

“Turn over, slave, on your knees,” Gil ordered, voice barely more than a growl.

Nick instantly turned over, spreading his legs. The cock that split him open only a second later caused him to howl in pain and need. More bites all over his back, a few that he could vaguely tell as drawing blood only because they hurt more than the others. The cock slamming in and out of him was merciless, taking him hard and fast, replacing horrible memories with good ones as his balls were toyed with and his shaft pumped.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

The chant, combined with the hard Claiming, was driving Nick out of his mind and he started begging, “Please Master, please, let me come, please, anything, Gods, anything please! Just need to come!”

Gil shouted and came inside him, slamming deep one last time. Nick had to grit his teeth, wailing in denial, in order not to follow his Master. Seed spit into him and Gil’s hips humped almost lazily against him, rubbing the semen deeper. Moaning in frustration, Nick bit his lip bloody to keep himself from coming and finding release without permission.

Kissing and licking along Nick’s back, the saliva stinging at the bite marks, Gil worked his way up, then pulled Nick into an upright kneeling position and humped lightly against him, increasing the friction while his hand renewed its assault.

And again, the magic words whispered in his ear… “Come for me Nicky.”

Nick’s mouth opened as he came, but no sound escaped, his body falling back against his Master as he spilled all over the floor and himself. Gil’s arms wound around his chest and he kissed Nick’s throat as he pulled out. Even through the haze of orgasm, Nick whimpered at the pain.

“Shit!”

Alarmed at his Master’s alarm, Nick looked back to find Gil staring at his ass. “Master?”

“I think I tore you, there’s blood on me,” Gil informed him, grimacing. “How do you feel?”

Nick thought about it, then shrugged. “It hurts, but only a little more than this morning. I think I’ll be fine.”

Half-smiling, Gil stood and replied, “Well, we’ll have a doctor look at you before we go home.”

Accepting the hand up, Nick asked, “Master, what if, what if…”

“If I die?” Gil prompted gently.

Fearful, Nick nodded.

“I changed my will today while at CSI. If anything happens to me, if I die for any reason, I’ve bequeathed you to my friend Catherine. She’s a good woman, Nick, and will probably use your help to raise her daughter, since her husband is no longer in the picture,” Gil assured him. Then he hesitated and added, “I also put in a stipulation…”

“Master?”

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this, Nicky,” Gil admitted, troubled. “I’ve never been this possessive before, but I can’t bear the thought of it, even if I’m dead.”

Nick guessed what the stipulation was and his mouth dropped open into a wondering smile. “You want to castrate me after your death?”

Anxious, Gil asked, “Is that all right?”

“Yes!” Nick exclaimed, throwing his arms around the older man. Sighing in contentment, Nick whispered, “No one has ever loved me that much, Master, never. And I would go through that even without you putting it into your will. For you. I want to always and only be yours.”

“Oh Nicky,” Gil breathed, holding him tight.

“Master Grissom?”

Sighing, Gil called, “I’ll be right out.”

Fearful again, Nick asked him, “Are you sure you’ll be all right? I’m not worth…”

“Yes, you are,” Gil interrupted fiercely. Gripping the back of Nick’s neck, he continued, “And even if you weren’t, even if Crane had chosen another method, I would never let a challenge to my authority stand like this. He’s going to die tonight…slowly.”

Shivering at the cold, implacable tone and the gleam of retribution in his Master’s eyes, Nick could only nod and follow him meekly out of the room.

* * * *

Kneeling by the edge of the ‘ring,’ Nick was given a clear view. The cool night air was just a hair too cold to be comfortable for nudity, but Nick ignored it, his focus solely on his Master talking only a few feet away with the Lord Mayor.

“Please, accept this sword, Master Grissom, my personal sword, as an apology to what happened tonight,” the Mayor said. “I never dreamed Crane would do something like this.”

The smile was plainly forced as Grissom replied, “No apology is necessary, your Lordship. You couldn’t have known he would be that stupid. The only thing I require is that this be a death match.”

The Mayor blanched, but nodded. “I understand.”

Gil’s lip twitched and he said, “I doubt that. This isn’t just about a slave, my Lord Mayor. Crane has been harassing my people in the course of their duties for months now. He stalked one of my best CSI’s and I will not let that stand. I would have preferred a more private…arena…but he has made that impossible.”

Thoughtful now, the Mayor again nodded and agreed, “As you will.”

Gil took the sword and strode onto the smooth, wooden courtyard floor, cutting the air with it a few time to loosen up. Nick’s eyes were glued to the powerful frame, powerful even with the hint of a gut forming. This was a man in his prime. Nick’s eyes shifted to the opponent and he was surprised to find that Crane was a lot smaller than his position had made him seem earlier. This was the man he’d been afraid of? Of course, it was difficult not to be afraid when you couldn’t fight back, he supposed.

Both men wielded the swords with knowledgeable aim, but it was Gil who drew first blood. Grinning fiercely, Gil said, “I’m going to gut you and stake you out, Crane. You picked the wrong man to cross.”

The words caused a flicker of fear across Crane’s face and Nick knew, then, that his Master was right. Fighting was half psychological, according to his first tutor, and in that respect, Gil had already won. The battle took on a desperate quality from Crane, while Gil remained cool and impervious. The blades clashed harshly, jangling on Nick’s nerves, and sometimes even drawing sparks.

Crane slipped up, overextending himself, and Gil’s sword pushed right into his gut. Blood spilled instantly, and Crane gasped in shock, his sword dropping from lax fingers and his eyes already glazing with pain. Gil yanked his blade free and kicked Crane’s legs out from under him. When the other man was down, Gil drove his sword back into Crane and the loud thunk of metal in wood told Nick that the blade was stuck.

Shivering at the feral look in his Master’s eyes, Nick immediately looked down.

“He stays right there. No one touches him or tries to save him,” Gil stated calmly, leaving the impromptu arena. “My Lord Mayor, thank you for the use of your sword. May we have somewhere to clean up?”

Obviously stunned at the cold-blooded violence, the Mayor nodded and agreed hastily, “Of course, Master Grissom.”

“Nick.”

Instantly on his feet, Nick kept his eyes to the floor all the walk to the guest quarters another slave showed them to. Once the door closed behind them, Gil rushed to the bathroom and proceeded to throw up into the toilet. Nick hurried after him and knelt on the floor, rubbing his back soothingly. He reached up and wetted a facecloth with cool water, then mopped the bloody brow and murmured, “It’s okay, Master, it’s over. You won.”

Shaken and pale, Gil shook his head and spat into the toilet, looking nauseous again. “I didn’t win, Nicky. Violence solves nothing. I reverted two thousand years to make my point to all and sundry that Gil Grissom is not to be fucked with. Not if they want to live.”

Nick pulled him in close and Gil sighed deeply, collapsing against his chest. Pressing his lips to his Master’s temple, Nick murmured, “Those are the rules by which we live, Master, there is no changing the world. The Emperor rules the world. The Presidents rule the countries. The Lord Mayors rule the states. You are given power to wield and some people only respect the sword and the gun. There is no reasoning with them. But you are a good man, Master, and I can not wait until a Feast Day to pay homage to the Gods for giving me to you.”

Still shaking, though less so, Gil didn’t answer. He sighed again and rested his head against Nick’s shoulder. “So will I, Nicky, so will I.”

Smiling, Nick kissed him again and continued to hold him.

* * * *

“The death match was over, of all things, a slave. At least according to reports from party-goers. There hasn’t been a death match of any kind at this rank for over a decade and we’ll be first on the news to keep you apprised of the situation and the results of this incredible affair. Stay tuned.”

Sara’s mouth twisted as she turned off the television, tossing the remote aside and saying, “You wouldn’t be that stupid, would you Grissom? To fall for a slave?”

Laughing coldly at the thought, she stood and crossed over to her bedroom. It was only a matter of time before she could bring enough pressure to bear for Gil to accept her advances. She just had to be patient.

Patience was, after all, a virtue.
Nick stirred when the doorbell rang, but didn’t move from his place draped over Gil, instead burrowing closer and kissing the bare chest. “Don’t answer it.”

A warm chuckle vibrated beneath his cheek as Gil replied, “I have to, Nicky.”

Sighing, Nick rolled off the bed and grabbed the sweats on the bottom edge of the bed, pulling them on with a wince.

Gil’s hand rubbed the unmarked portions of his back and reminded, “I need to put on more salve in about half an hour.”

“I know,” Nick agreed, smiling as he reached for the shirt, too.

He followed Gil into the living room and stood anxiously behind him as the door was opened. To his surprise, the strawberry blonde from the lab waited on the other side.

“Catherine?” Gil greeted, surprised.

The frown faded a little and she stated, “The news didn’t say what your condition was after the fight, and you weren’t answering your phone, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, I figured that they would have put you in the hospital if you were gushing blood, but you still could have been injured and…”

“Catherine!”

She paused. “What?”

“Breathe. And come inside.”

Catherine snorted and entered the house, smiling at Nick. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Catherine Willows.”

Taking the hand, now knowing that it was expected, Nick replied, “Hi. I’m Nick.”

“Yes, I know,” she agreed. “How are you? Were you hurt? Were either of you hurt?”

Since the last question was directed to Gil, Nick remained silent, accepting Gil’s arm around his waist and walking with him to the sofa. He couldn’t quite hide a wince when sitting down and flushed because he knew that Catherine had seen and correctly identified the reason. That didn’t, of course, stop him from curling up close against his Master.

“We’re both fine,” Gil assured her. “Nicky, unfortunately, bore the brunt of the assault. I just cleaned house when I found him gone from where I’d left him.”

“I still can’t believe Crane would do that!” Catherine exclaimed.

“Mmm. Yes, well, I don’t think that this is the end of it.”

Alarmed, Nick’s eyes snapped to Gil and he asked, “Why not?”

Gil grimaced. “Just a hunch. Nothing whatsoever to back it up, but Crane has friends.”

“So do you,” she replied firmly.

A half-grin surfaced and Gil agreed, “I do, but not the same kind. How are things at the office?”

Therein followed a long, detailed conversation which Nick only half-heartedly followed. He knew that he’d be working with and meeting the people that Catherine and Gil were talking about, but was still exhausted and sore and wanted nothing more than for her to be gone. Enjoying the hand Gil rested on his neck, Nick closed his eyes, drowsing and vaguely wondering why the older man wasn’t more tired as he was the one who’d been in a sword fight.

When he realized the conversation had stopped, Nick roused himself to stare sleepily up at Gil, who was just looking into space, a serious expression in place. Uncertain, he asked, “Master?”

Glancing at him, Gil smiled and kissed his temple. “Come on, Nicky, past time for that salve.”

“Where’d Catherine go?”

“She left about ten minutes ago when you were out like a light,” Gil teased, helping him upright.

Nick flushed and apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Tugging him in close, Gil put an arm around his waist and replied, “It’s okay, Nicky, you’re still worn out from last night.”

“Why aren’t you?”

The almost irritated question popped out without even thinking and Nick cringed, knowing how disrespectful it had sounded.

Thankfully, Gil just chuckled, explaining, “I don’t sleep a lot anyhow, and as I wasn’t injured, there’s nothing for me to really recover from.”

Remembering how his Master had been hugging the toilet the night before, retching his misery into the porcelain bowl, Nick had his doubts about that. He remained silent, though, and willingly walked with the older man back into the bedroom. It was embarrassing, having his Master care for him in such an…intimate fashion, but the salve was rubbed inside his body with no comment.

He crawled back into bed, as ordered by Gil, and snuggled under the covers, burrowing against his Master’s pillow as he asked, “You’re not joining me?”

Smiling a bit wistfully, Gil negated, “I’m afraid that I have some loose ends that need to be taken care of. Jim’s on his way over, so if you come out, put on a robe.”

“I will,” Nick promised, already edging down into sleep.

Gil’s fingers stroked through his hair and he murmured, “I would have done the same thing if it had been anyone else, Nicky. No one touches you like that, ever, and lives.”

The utter possessiveness in his Master’s voice, especially so quietly delivered, sent a shiver through Nick. It was arousing and reassuring and disturbing all at the same time. Killing was clearly something that bothered the other man to his core, and yet he wouldn’t hesitate when it came to protecting Nick. Settling at last on a faint smile, Nick reached up and took his Master’s hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the palm.

* * * *

“So what’s the fallout?” Gil asked, sitting behind his desk with a groan. As much as he’d hidden it from Nick, his upper body was killing him from wielding that broadsword. The Mayor’s blade had been old, cast in the traditional fashion; definitely not a light sword made from newer metals.

Jim grinned and observed, “Getting old?”

“Definitely,” Gil agreed, wry.

Taking the seat in front of the desk, Jim sat easily, shaking his head. “You couldn’t have met this kid ten years ago when you could back up protecting him without any trouble, could you?”

Gil snorted. “Of course not. That would have made my life too simple. Besides, he would’ve been only sixteen at the time.”

“And your problem with that is…?”

Laughing softly, not denying the charge, Gil prompted, “Problems that I can expect?”

Pulling an envelope out of his suit jacket, Jim tossed it onto the desk and announced, “You’ve been named in a wrongful death suit by Crane’s daughter.”

“You are kidding me,” Gil snapped, picking up the envelope and opening it. Scanning the document, he saw that Jim hadn’t been kidding and his anger grew. “She’s going to sue me because her father challenged me and I won!?”

Jim shrugged and said, “Not like she’s got a case.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Gil, relax. Nothing’s going to come of it and you know it. It’ll be dismissed the second the judge hears the circumstances.”

But would it? Delivered in the light of a cold, uncaring courtroom, would the circumstances be deemed severe enough to warrant a death match? Nicky had been molested and assaulted, true, but he was a slave. He had no rights and though Gil had every right to protect what was his, a death match could be seen as, well, overkill.

“In any case, aside from that nonsense, Warrick asked for a few days off.”

Gil looked at him sharply, the cop’s face not revealing a thing. “Greg?”

“Yeah,” Jim confirmed.

The damage inflicted on that gentle young man’s soul by Crane was still almost incalculable. Gil wasn’t surprised that Warrick wanted to keep Greg home for a few days to get over the shock of Crane’s death. It would be a relief, of course, but it would also be traumatic because Crane had been such a fixture in their lives over the last six month and there had been nothing anyone could do about it. Not even Gil, as much as it had chafed him.

Finally nodding, Gil replied, “That’s fine. They’ll be in next week?”

“Yeah. I pushed their work onto Sara and Catherine, and brought in one of Ecklie’s guys to help out.”

“I’m sure that went over like a lead balloon,” Gil commented, a smirk rising.

Jim laughed. “And then some, yeah. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

“I’m sure.”

“So you’re coming in tomorrow then?”

Nodding again, Gil agreed, “Don’t see that I have any choice, not with Warrick and Greg both out.”

Jim stood and ordered, “Take some pain meds and have that new slave of yours give you a massage to work out the kinks.”

“I will,” Gil replied, standing as well.

Walking to the front door, Jim paused, then informed him, “Sara’s been a little…odd…the last couple of days.”

Gil frowned. “What do you mean, odd?”

Hand on the door, Jim replied, “Nothing I can pinpoint, but I do know that it started when she found out about Nick. Just…watch your back, okay? She comes from powerful people.”

“Thanks,” Gil said, briefly gripping Jim’s shoulder. “I appreciate the warning.”

Jim’s familiar twist of the lips rose and he announced, “I just don’t want to have to break in a new boss. Just got you the way I like you.”

Laughing, Gil waved goodbye and closed the door behind him. Leaning on it, he sighed heavily, scrubbing his fingertips through his hair. No one else would be showing up, thankfully, so he had the rest of the day to spend with Nicky. Always a pleasant prospect to consider.

Gil grinned and walked back to the bedroom to find the young man still asleep under the covers, face down on his pillow. After undressing, he sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through the short brown hair. Nick stirred, but didn’t wake, mumbling in his sleep, a frown creasing his handsome features. That Crane had been intent on doing to Nick what he’d done to Greg…probably worse, simply because Nick belonged to Gil…

His jaw clenched as he silently castigated himself for leaving Nick alone as he had. It had honestly never occurred to him that Crane would try something at such a public gathering, but that was no excuse. He couldn’t even think what had prompted him to go back and check on Nick, either. One minute he was talking to an out-of-town doctor and the next, he’d had the strongest urge to make sure Nick was all right.

When he’d gotten back to the table and found it empty, panic had nearly rendered him useless. He’d searched the area, frantic for Nick’s safety as the image of Greg’s battered body and Warrick begging for him to live had flashed through his mind. He’d known, even then, that Crane had been behind Nicky’s disappearance. It was only luck, or perhaps fate, that had crossed his path with someone who’d seen Crane pushing Nick into the very same room he’d taken Nick in earlier that night.

Bursting in the room to see Nick huddled in a fetal position while Crane abused him had literally driven Gil out of his mind. He had seen nothing except his hands squeezing the life from the man who’d dared to touch the young man. And then to hear Nick begging to end his life…it had just about broken him that his mistake had caused so much pain for the gentle man.

He vowed, yet again, to protect Nick with his life if he had to.

Leaning forward, suddenly needing Nick more than he’d ever needed anyone in his life, Gil drew the covers aside, exposing the nude body to his hungry gaze. He straddled Nick, but didn’t touch him, just drank in the sight of the strong, muscled body. Dipping down, he pressed his lips to the top of Nick’s spine then proceeded to kiss his way along the indent to the base. Nick stirred, but the kisses were too fleeting to wake him.

Gil licked up the cleft of Nick’s ass, grimacing faintly at the medicinal taste the salve had left behind. He couldn’t take Nick without risking serious damage, but there were other things they could do until the younger man healed. Nuzzling between the thighs, Gil sucked at the balls and that was enough to wake Nick, who moaned in response.

He stayed there for several minutes, doing his best to drive Nick crazy with need. From the gasps and hoarse shouts, he knew he was succeeding. Gil rolled Nick over, taking the leaking cock into his mouth and sucking on it, moving up and down. Nick was arched tight as a bowstring, his hips pushing his cock deeper into Gil’s mouth.

That was when Gil realized that he had no way to tell Nick to come, since his mouth was full. Almost laughing at the dilemma, he pulled off, enjoying the moan of need and disappointment that followed him. Looking down at Nick, hot and sweaty, rumpled against the pillows, Gil crawled up his slaves body, stopping to bite and suck here and there. He licked the scab around Nick’s nipple, the red-black mark a thrill of possession that would scar since he wasn’t putting any kind of lotion or healing salve on it.

Reaching over, he pulled out the lube and sat on Nick’s hips, feeling the hard cock jutting against his body. “Nicky, Nicky, look at me.”

Hazy, lust-addled eyes looked at him, focusing with an effort, and Nick replied, “What is it, Master?”

“Give me your hand.”

Nick did so, a curious frown evident, and Gil poured some lube on it and ordered, “Prepare me. I want you inside me.”

Shock skittered across Nick’s face as he stammered, “In-inside you?”

Grinning, Gil nodded and said, “To start. We’ll think about other things later.”

Mouth still agape, Nick nonetheless sat up and reached behind Gil, gingerly pushing a lube covered finger into his hole.

“More, Nicky, don’t be afraid that you’ll hurt me. I’ve done this a lot more than you have,” Gil assured him, nuzzling at his ear and then biting it for good measure.

Two fingers entered him at that and Gil grinned in satisfaction at the strong push of them as Nick prepared him. So his slave was a little jealous of his sexual history. Tucking that information away for later, Gil grunted in pleasure when his prostate was hit, and thrust down on the intrusion. “Like that, again, Nicky!”

Nick obliged, returning with more force on the same angle. Shuddering, his head falling back, Gil groaned and enjoyed the finger-fucking.

“You like that, Master,” Nick observed, more than asked. “You look so good like this, so handsome, so perfect.”

Gil took his mouth, stopping the words and devouring the man uttering them. He fucked Nick’s mouth with his tongue, continuing to push down on the fingers inside him. Breaking the kiss, he took Nick’s hand and pulled it away, reaching beneath him to the cock and aiming himself over it. Sitting, breaching himself with the long, hard shaft, Gil grunted as he was impaled. When he was all the way down, seated on Nick’s body, he shuddered, feeling the lust and need all the way through to his soul.

Nick’s mouth was slack with amazement, his eyes clenched shut and Gil just about came at the sight of him. This would be the first time that Nick had ever taken someone and Gil relished that fact. Putting his arms over Nick’s shoulders for leverage and support, he started moving, fucking himself on Nick’s cock, fast driving himself towards orgasm. Rocking back and forth, pushing up and down, Gil lost himself in the sensations of the joining.

He rolled them so that Nick was on top, the startled slave holding himself up on his fists while Gil wound his legs around his waist. Licking at his lips, Gil ordered, “Fuck me, Nicky, make me come and you can come too, when I do.”

Nick instantly started moving, slamming in and out of Gil with the strength of youth behind him. Groaning in a mix of pain and pleasure, Gil urged him on with filthy words, digging his heels into Nicky’s back. It was an eternity later that Nick hit his prostate one too many times and Gil shouted, coming hard as he spattered them both with his seed. It was ripped from him, his heart stopping in his chest, his breath held while Nick dug into his body as far as he could and came inside him.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Gil lay limp on the bed, unable to move or even protest Nick’s heavy, boneless body on top of him. Not that he would protest, the weight of him felt very good; comforting and solid.

No, the only thing he wanted to protest was the exhaustion running through him, dragging him down into sleep when all he wanted to do was savor the moment.

* * * *

Gil sighed in deep contentment as Nick’s hands rubbed soothing lavender oil into his body, strong and gentle all at once.

They’d eaten and talked quietly a couple of hours ago, and with Nick wrapped safe in his arms, the younger man hadn’t seemed able to stop talking about the encounter with Crane. It had fortunately taken little prompting on Gil’s part to get him to purge the negative emotions. He’d briefly sent a prayer upwards for the loving care taking Nick’s previous owners had showered on him. It had given Nick a solid foundation of trust for his owners and Gil would continue to use that towards the young man’s emotional well-being.

When Nick had stopped talking, curled up over Gil’s lap and resting against him, Gil had just held his slave and relished the feel of him in his arms. It made the insanity of the world seem just a little less so, giving him a belief in the Fates that he hadn’t held in a couple of decades, maybe longer.

They’d sat in the living room, watching the sunset through the French doors, quiet and content in one another’s company. After darkness had fallen, Gil had turned on the television, morbidly curious as to what might be said of the death match. There had been a brief report, and its very brevity told Gil that the Mayor had declared the entire situation non grata and the news companies were responding in kind.

Taking a shower together had revealed the shadows of bruising on Gil from his fight and Nick had nearly had a heart attack at the realization that Gil really had been injured, even if not badly so. Gil had insisted that he was fine, but Nick had started ordering him around, getting him out of the shower and into bed, with some pain relievers. Utterly amused by the proprietary and worried tone and actions, Gil had hidden a grin and done as he was bade.

Just as well he had, because now he was reaping the benefits of a long, slow massage. The feel of Nick’s hands on him was soothing instead of arousing, comforting, and Gil relaxed as he hadn’t in quite a long time. It was one thing to have sex with someone, but a massage was a completely different form of intimacy. Sleep tugged at him as Nick continued to rub and stroke along his major muscle groups and Gil gave in, sighing once more as he faded away.

* * * *

Nick felt the moment that his Master fell asleep and smiled in happiness. He continued with the massage, loving the feel of the slick, warm flesh under his hands. His movements remained slow and soothing, drawing any remaining tension from the other’s body through persistence, if not skill. He made a mental note to ask about taking a massage class so he could do better next time.

Still irritated with himself for not having realized that of course Gil was hurting from the battle, Nick took his time with his Master’s body. He lavished attention to every part of it, even though the other was asleep and couldn’t consciously enjoy it. He was hoping it would lead to sweet dreams for his Master, something that he suspected rarely happened.

When he was finished, Nick looked at the gleaming body and sighed in wistful need. It would be selfish to wake his Master to ask for release and the older man needed his sleep, so Nick ignored his throbbing cock and lay down beside him. Pulling the covers over them, he shifted until he was pressed up along the entire length of his Master, covering his legs with one of his own and pressing his cock against a hip.

It took several minutes to calm his body down, but finally he was able to clear his mind enough that his cock deflated. Nuzzling at the precious throat, Nick smiled against the soft beard and closed his eyes.

* * * *

Not expecting anyone, Warrick looked up in surprise at the knock on his front door. His hand tightened on Greg’s shoulder, the younger man sleeping on his lap, and he carefully shifted out from under his slave. Greg murmured an incoherent protest, but didn’t wake. Smiling down at the face relaxed in sleep, Warrick turned and walked to the door, opening it to find Gil and Nick on his doorstep.

Surprised again, he greeted, “Grissom, hey man, what’s up? Come on in.”

But Grissom waved his offer away and said, “I just wanted to check on the two of you, see how you were doing.”

Warrick shrugged, answering, “Better, thanks. Greg had a fit at the office when we found out. He was convinced that the reports were wrong and that you were the one who was killed. It wasn’t until we saw you and Nick leaving the palace on the late news that he believed Crane was really dead.”

Grimacing, Gil apologized, “I should have called, but I wasn’t at my best at the time.”

“Hey, no problem,” Warrick assured him. “I know how you feel about killing, so I understand.”

“Master?”

Warrick turned at Greg’s uncertain, sleepy call of his name and saw the young man blinking at him blearily, clearly awoken by the voices. He gave Greg a reassuring smile and announced, “It’s Grissom and Nick, Greg. Come on over and say hi.”

Greg instantly rolled off the sofa and strode over to them, supremely unconcerned with his nudity. He smiled shyly at both Grissom and Nick and greeted, “Hello.”

Warrick put and arm around his waist, pulling the young man against him, and teased, “See? I told you he was fine.”

A blush rose and Greg’s eyes dropped, but Grissom only said, “Thanks for worrying about me, Greg. How are you?”

It was a direct question, so of course Greg had to answer, but Warrick could see it was difficult. The young man had a serious case of hero worship for Grissom and if Warrick wasn’t so secure with how his slave felt about him, it might have been a problem. Stroking a hand along Greg’s flank, he prompted, “Answer him, baby.”

“I-I’m fine, relieved, thank you so much, Master Grissom,” Greg said at last, his eyes remaining downcast. “I’m sorry you had to kill, I know how it distresses you, but I am so…relieved that Crane’s dead. Thank you.”

Gentle, Grissom replied, “I’m glad that you’re all right, Greg. You know that if I could have taken care of it sooner than this, I would have.”

Another flush heated Greg’s fair complexion and his head ducked down further as he turned into Warrick’s sideways embrace and murmured, “I know.”

Warrick met Grissom’s gaze and grinned. They both knew that Greg’s normal volubility was always muted around him, shyness and gratitude for the man who’d saved his life overwhelming the young man. “So you’re going in to work?”

Grissom nodded. “Yeah. We’re down by two, so I thought I’d bring Nicky in and see what he might have an affinity for.”

Laughing, Warrick shook his head and looked over at the as-yet silent slave. “And you wonder why people think you’re a closet abolitionist?”

“Very funny, Warrick,” Gil reproved, but there was no real censure in his voice. “Take as much time as you need, we’ll manage without the two of you for a few days.”

Thankful, Warrick’s arm tightened around Greg’s waist and he replied, “Thanks.”

Grissom nodded and motioned for Nick to precede him which, after a brief wave goodbye, the younger man did. Warrick watched them go, then closed the door and brought Greg back to the sofa. He was startled when Greg straddled his lap instead of lying back down, but definitely not complaining. Grinning up into the blue eyes, he asked, “Something you wanted, baby?”

Rubbing his bare ass deliberately over Warrick’s groin, Greg answered, “I was thinking there might be something you want, Master.”

Warrick groaned, his head falling back against the sofa cushion. “You know there’s always somethin’ I’m wantin’ baby.”

“Yeah, I know,” Greg agreed, his hands on Warrick’s pants.

Leaning forward, Warrick sucked on an exposed nipple, biting the tip sharply as Greg undid his pants and pulled out his rapidly hardening cock. Gasping in reaction, Greg stroked and pulled at Warrick’s cock and he felt love in every strong caress. Greg would never say the words, Warrick knew that and was cool with it, but he showed the black man every single time they joined just how he really felt.

Warrick ran his hands over the slender, lightly defined chest, the familiar possessiveness running through him that this incredible, quixotic man belonged to him. Sliding them down and around back, he gripped the plug already inside Greg and moved it around. Hissing, Greg pushed down against him and Warrick chuckled, saying, “Always so hot for it, my little slut. Let’s see how good a show you put on, baby.”

He pulled the plug from Greg’s body, who moaned and shivered at the withdrawal, and tossed it carelessly aside. Greg would find and clean it later, and then put it back in his body without a second thought. The knowledge that his slave was always open and ready for him sent a shudder of lust through Warrick. His hands gripped the firm ass and yanked down, pulling Greg onto his cock.

They both groaned as Greg was impaled on Warrick, his fingers tightening convulsively on the black man’s shoulders as he was filled. When he was seated flush against Warrick’s body, Warrick slapped his ass and growled, “Work me, baby, move!”

Greg immediately started moving, his ass clenching and unclenching around the shaft inside him. Warrick’s head fell back and he let Greg do all the work, lost in the sensation of being fucked but good, even if it was his cock in Greg. He wasn’t the only possessive one in this relationship, Warrick knew that without a doubt. And relationship it was, despite the dynamic of owner and owned. They loved and fought and laughed just like Warrick’s parents had growing up, and one of these days he was going to see how Greg felt about having their kids.

Then though fled because Greg quickened the pace, slamming down on the hard cock and squeezing with his internal muscles, unexpectedly dragging Warrick’s orgasm from him. He shouted, his fingers gripping Greg’s hips with bruising force, holding him in place as he came, filling the younger man with his seed. Greg gasped and shuddered, his own orgasm exploding over Warrick’s chest.

Greg collapsed against Warrick, resting his entire bodyweight on the bigger man and snuggling as close as he could. It was then that the sobs started. Warrick smiled and sighed in relief, having been waiting for the outpouring of emotion since that first hysterical fit at the office two days ago.

Wrapping his arms around the slender body, he rocked them slowly and murmured, “It’s okay, baby, he’s really gone now. No one’s ever going to hurt you like that again, I swear it.”

* * * *

Nick looked around the busy office and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as he waited for Gil to get back from whatever meeting he’d been dragged into the second that they’d arrived. He’d had only enough time to tell Nick to wait for him in the lounge before Detective Brass had herded him into an elevator.

“Hey. You’re Nick, right?”

Turning at the woman’s voice, Nick found a young woman about his own age with brown hair and hazel eyes smiling at him. Nodding he walked closer and confirmed, “Yeah.”

She held out a hand and greeted, “Sara Sidle. I work on Grissom’s team, so we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

A little relieved at the explanation, Nick took the hand, smiling. “Yeah, I guess we will. Have you, ah, worked here long?”

“A couple of years,” Sara answered. “He’s a good boss. Are you going to be working here, like Greg?”

That familiar helplessness at the thought of actually working and interacting with people as an equal flooded him, along with a hot blush, and Nick admitted, “I’m not sure. I, I think so. Mas, uh, Grissom said that I should find something I like to do here, but…”

“But?” she prompted curiously.

He sighed, a faint grin teasing at his lips, and he explained, “I really only want to take care of him.”

Her smile was forced as Sara said, “He does bring that out in people. I’ve known Grissom to go for three days straight on a crime scene without sleep or food or a break. Makes me want to smack some sense into him sometimes.”

“Three days in a row?” Nick repeated, horrified. No way, his Master wasn’t doing that anymore. He’d make sure of that!

“Oh Nicky, there you are!”

Nick turned towards Catherine’s voice and his smile returned at the sight of the woman bringing in a young girl who was obviously her daughter. “Catherine, hi. Who’s this?”

A bit frazzled, Catherine introduced, “Nicky, this is Lindsey. Lindsey, this is Gil’s slave Nicky. I want you to listen to him and not give him any trouble while Mommy’s at work, okay?”

Lindsey smiled hesitantly up at Nick and said, “Hi.”

“Hi there,” Nick replied, returning the smile.

“I am so sorry about this, Nicky, but it’s school vacation and my sitter flaked on me. I called Grissom and he said you wouldn’t mind looking after her while we were working?” Catherine asked.

Even if it hadn’t clearly been a wish of Gil’s, Nick knew that he would have said yes. The little girl was about six and had her mother’s big, blue eyes and honest smile. “Of course I don’t mind. I bet we can find all kinds of things to do here.”

“Thank you so much,” Catherine sighed, tweaking at her daughter’s hair. She held out a small bag and said, “Here’s her lunch, make sure she eats all of it.”

Nick nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Finally turning to Sara, Catherine grinned and said, “Hi. Come on, Grissom’s finally escaped management hell and we’ve got a hot one.”

Sara waved at him, rubbing a hand over Lindsey’s head, and the two women left, talking about a triple homicide at one of the casinos.

Looking down at Lindsey, Nick smiled and asked, “So Lindsey. What do you like to do for fun?”

* * * *

Gil smiled at the vision of Nick and Lindsey both sound asleep on the sofa in the lounge. Lindsey’s hair was braided in some elaborate fashion and Nick’s shirt bore distinctive signs of paint and glitter. Though where they’d gotten either, was a mystery to him.

Catherine chuckled softly beside him and pondered humorously, “I wonder who wore out whom.”

“I wouldn’t care to speculate,” Gil replied, flashing her a grin. “I’d guess they’re safe enough for a while longer so we can finish up the paperwork.”

“Ooh. Excitement,” Catherine retorted.

He laughed and they walked out of the lounge towards his office. “You did good tonight, Cath.”

Shooting him a surprised look, she said, “Thanks.”

“After seeing them together, something occurred to me.”

“What’s that?”

“What do you think about having Nick look after Lindsey when she’s not in school?” Gil ventured.

The surprised look softened into understanding and she said, “You don’t think he can handle working here like Greg does.”

Wincing, Gil shook his head, opening his door for her and ushering her inside. “Greg’s only been a slave for six years. Nick’s been one since he was ten. I don’t think he can make the distinction that would be necessary for him to expect respect for his observations and work between his status as a slave. That would cause him a conflict that I’d rather spare him if I could.”

“Well, they certainly hit it off,” Catherine allowed, sitting in the chair in front of Gil’s desk. “But I doubt I could afford to pay you for his services, not on my salary.”

Gil grinned and wagged a finger at her. “And this isn’t going to get you a raise, either. No, I was thinking more along the lines of presenting it to Nick as doing you a favor. It would make him feel needed which is, I know, something he needs to feel. From what I know of his background, he took care of his previous owners with a level not often observed in anyone, let alone a slave.”

“He was spoiled,” Catherine guessed, grinning.

“Incredibly spoiled,” Gil agreed, his tone indulgent. “And I’m not about to break the pattern, either.”

Laughing, Catherine said, “I didn’t think you would. And really, this sounds like the perfect arrangement to me. I could save a lot of money by having Nicky look after Linds when she’s not in school.”

“And Nick would feel useful, something I doubt would happen, if he attempted to work here,” Gil finished.

“So how do you want to work this?”

Gil thought about it for a moment, then said, “I’ll drop him off at your house and we can ride in together, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect,” Catherine replied, shaking her head.

“What?”

“Nothing, just…I’ve never really seen this side of you.”

Gil frowned at her amused expression and questioned, “What side is that?”

“Gil Grissom in love.”

Eyes rolling, Gil didn’t deny the observation, he just said, “We’ll start tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master Grissom, whatever you say, Master Grissom.”

“Catherine…”

* * * *

Nick woke when the weight of Lindsey started to be lifted from him, his arms instinctively tightening around the little girl. Instantly awake at the movement, he recognized Catherine and relaxed, letting go of her daughter. Yawning, he sat up the rest of the way and rubbed his eyes, taking in Gil’s smiling face just beyond Catherine. “Hey.”

“I see the two of you had fun,” Catherine observed, settling the still-sleeping girl against her shoulder.

Smiling, Nick stood and agreed, “She’s a great kid.”

Catherine reached out and tweaked his nose. “Glad you think so, because I was hoping that I could convince you to do me a favor and keep an eye on her on a regular basis.”

“Really?” Nick asked in surprise, glancing at Gil.

Stepping closer, Gil assured him, “It won’t be a permanent thing, Nick, don’t worry. We’d just be helping Catherine out of a bit of a bind.”

“No, that’s fine, it’s great,” Nick agreed enthusiastically, running a hand over the braids he’d created for Lindsey. “She really is a great kid.”

Gil put a hand at the small of his back and said, “We’ll start out tomorrow and see how it goes. I’ll drop you at Catherine’s house and then she’ll ride in with me to the office.”

Leaning against Gil, Nick smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

Gil kissed his temple and replied, “Good.”

“All right then, that’s settled,” Catherine announced. “I’m going to get her home and we’ll see you tomorrow. Night guys.”

“Night, Catherine.”

“Night, Cath.”

Nick turned to Gil when she was gone, wrapping his arms around his Master’s waist and resting his cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Gil’s arms wound about his shoulders and he kissed Nick’s head before asked, “What for?”

“For being so wonderful,” Nick answered shyly. He knew that this had been devised as a way to make him feel helpful, it was just the sort of thing that Gil would think up.

Chuckling warmly, Gil said, “You’re welcome. Let’s go home.”

Nick nodded and pulled back, sighing happily. They were delayed a few times on the way out, various people stopping them to confer with Gil on different cases. It was nice to see the respect everyone had for his Master, to know that these people genuinely looked up to the older man and sought his opinion on just about everything. His already great pride for his Master grew even higher.

“Grissom! Wait up!”

Nick turned when Gil did and saw Sara striding towards them. She smiled at him, but Nick stiffened at the glint in her eyes. He’d seen it plenty of times before in his life and it spoke of dismissal, disregard and contempt. He automatically lowered his eyes, shifting to move behind Gil a little, giving his Master the proper, public deference expected by the world.

“What is it, Sara?” Gil questioned, impatience lacing his tone.

“I have to talk to you about the Harrison case. It can’t wait.”

“What about it?”

“The DNA samples that Greg was working on are compromised.”

“What!?”

“I know. I don’t know if it was Greg or the lab, but they’re no good now.”

“Damn it!”

The real anger in his Master’s voice caused Nick to flinch. A second later, a reassuring hand settled at the small of his back and he relaxed a little. Enough to risk a glimpse up and see the thoughtful look on his Master’s face.

“All right. We still have the tire treads and the fingerprints, so it’s not a complete disaster,” Gil said at last. “I want to know where the mistake happened, though.”

“I’m on it.”

Nick shivered a little at the thought of her investigating Greg. Of her investigating any slave, for that matter, as her opinion of them was very clear.

“No, Sara, wait.”

“What?”

“I’ll have someone else look into it.”

“But…”

Firm, Gil stated, “You’ve got better things to do than check up on Greg.”

“Sure, no problem,” she agreed, backing down easily. “You have your suit picked out yet?”

There was a pause before Gil replied blankly, “My suit?”

“For the dinner. Tomorrow night…you forgot.”

“Oh damn. Yes, I did forget. I’m sorry, Sara, but don’t worry. I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Great! I’ll see you then. Night, Nick.”

Nick peeked up at her and had a very strong urge to wipe the pleased smile right off her face. Instead, he lowered his eyes again and replied demurely, “Good night, Sara.”

“Night, Sara,” Gil echoed.

When they were almost to the exit, Nick ventured, “What dinner?”

A bit absently, his mind clearly elsewhere, probably on the DNA mistake, Gil answered, “She’s been nominated for an award tomorrow night and I’m her de facto date.”

Nick stiffened at the news, but kept a still tongue. It wasn’t his place to question any action of his Master’s, but now he knew why Sara had looked so pleased. She clearly had designs on his Master, just as obviously as Gil had no idea that she had them. And he would be stuck at Catherine’s watching Lindsey instead of keeping an eye on the scheming woman, where he belonged.

Sighing, Nick silently climbed into the truck.

* * * *

So intent on trying to figure out what else they could use to bolster the Harrison case was Gil, that it wasn’t until they got home that he really noticed how quiet Nick was. Frowning as he followed the younger man into the house, he watched closely as Nick moved to the kitchen and started making tea. Thinking back, he tried to remember what might have caused the ‘don’t touch me,’ body language that Nick was definitely giving off. And then he remembered Sara’s expression and tone and how Nick had withdrawn at her appearance.

Mentally hitting himself in the forehead, Gil shook his head at how obtuse he could be wit people. He walked up behind Nick, sliding his arms around the younger man’s waist and pulling him close. Resting his chin on Nick’s shoulder, he informed Nick, “I made the date, such as it is, with Sara long before I even knew you existed, Nicky. I can’t very well cancel on her.”

Nick shrugged and agreed, “I know, Master, I’m not asking you to.”

Snorting softly, Gil nuzzled at his throat. “Not in words, no.”

“She hates us, you know.”

The quiet, definitive statement startled Gil into pulling away. “What?”

Facing him, Nick clarified slowly, “Slaves. Sara hates slaves. I could see it in her eyes when she was talking about Greg. And, and when she was looking at me.”

“She just needs to get used to you, is all,” Gil protested. “I’ve never owned a slave before and she’s not used to it.”

Shaking his head, Nick countered, “I think someone she was close to was a slave and something happened. Maybe she was betrayed or maybe she was hurt, but she definitely hates slaves because of it. I…I’m worried about Greg.”

Even more surprised, Gil shook his head as if that would clear it, and echoed, “Greg?”

“She might have done something deliberately to get him in trouble. What would happen if he really messed up on an important case?” Nick questioned.

Not wanting to really think about it, Gil had to admit, “He would be caned, beaten, or whipped, depending on the severity of the transgression.”

“And there would be nothing that you or Warrick could do about stopping it,” Nick said, more than asked.

Gil nodded confirmation, thoughtful. He had to confess to wearing blinders when it came to the people who worked with him. Not that he thought they could do no wrong, of course, but he primarily trusted them to be honest and straightforward in their dealings. He respected all of them, Sara included. “But why would she? Greg doesn’t belong to me, he’s Warrick’s slave.”

“I saw the way he was with you, Master, it’s pretty obvious that Greg idolizes you,” Nick replied, smiling to show that it didn’t bother him. “I don’t know why it bothers her, but I’m sure it does. Maybe it’s just because he’s a slave and isn’t allowed to have feelings like that for you. Or for anyone.”

“Nick, she’s not like that.”

Nick fell silent, his earnest gaze falling to the floor. Gil cursed himself for the sharp tone, rubbing his eyes. How the hell was he going to get Nick to stand up for himself when he was simultaneously beating him down? Taking a breath, he allowed, “I’ll keep an eye on her, okay, Nicky? And I’ll personally check into the lab mistake to make sure that Greg isn’t falsely accused of anything, deliberately or innocently so.”

Relief etched into Nick’s face and Gil half-smiled. “Good. Now then. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Taking the kettle off the burner and turning off the stove, Nick went willingly into Gil’s arms. Shaking his head in fond amusement, Gil kissed the top of his head and started for the bedroom. One thing was for sure. Living with Nick was going to keep him on his toes.

* * * *

Gil shifted uncomfortably in his suit, which was snugger than he remembered it being, and ignored the smirk that was most definitely on Nick’s face as his slave tied the tie. He thought, briefly, that it would be far more entertaining to have Nick undress him, but ignored the twitch from below that demanded he finish and expand upon the idea.

“You look wonderful, Master,” Nick murmured, smoothing his suit into place with one last brush of his hand.

Impulsively, Gil said, “I wish you were coming with me.”

Pleasure suffused Nick’s face and he smiled as his gaze lowered. “That means a lot to me.”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil turned it up and leaned in to kiss him softly, then stated, “I mean it. I wish I could bring you, but it’s not appropriate. Particularly after the…incident at the Mayor’s palace. It’s supposed to be Sara’s night, and having you there would put the papers into a frenzy. Having me there, will be bad enough.”

Nick shrugged, a smile still hovering as he replied, “I understand, Master, truly. It’s all right.”

“And it doesn’t matter what Sara thinks tonight is about, Nick. I’m only going as a show of support for her,” Gil continued firmly. “She works for me and that’s as far as the relationship goes.”

The pleased look transmuted into outright beaming at the reassurance and Gil relaxed. His suspicion about Nick’s jealousy had been correct and he’d said the right thing. Something that wasn’t a given, with his lack of people skills. All day, Nick had been clingy and anxious, right there every time that Gil had turned around. He’d done his best to keep his temper, not used to having someone hovering so close, not used to having anyone around period, but had snapped a couple of times at the young man.

Once he got back from the dinner, he’d make it up to Nick by paying some extra attention to him. Dipping in for another kiss, this one lingering and deep, Gil hummed in satisfaction when he pulled away and said, “I have some ideas about more training for you when I get home, Nicky. It’ll keep me occupied while I’m listening to boring speeches and eating a rubber chicken dinner.”

A blush rose as Nick said, “I look forward to it, Master.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Nicky, stick with the truth,” Gil teased, slapping him sharply on the ass.

Nick jerked in surprise at the slap, staring at him with wide eyes.

Smirking, Gil announced, “I think we need to test some of your limits. I’ve been neglecting your training the last few days, though for understandable reasons. Still, Warrick might not care how ill behaved Greg is, but I don’t feel the same about my slave.”

The wide eyes widened further and, contrite, Nick exclaimed, “Master, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Hush, Nicky, I was teasing you,” Gil interrupted, pulling him in close. “You bring me nothing but grace and honor, I promise.”

Mollified, Nick breathed an obvious sigh of relief and leaned against him with the mild complaint, “I never know whether you’re teasing or not, Master.”

Chuckling, Gil nipped at his earlobe and slapped his ass again. “Good. It’ll keep you sharp. Let’s go, Catherine’s waiting for us by now.”

Rubbing his backside, Nick shot him an exasperated look and went to retrieve his jacket, following Gil out of the house to the car. Gil smiled and opened the door for him, and, once Nick was seated, reached in to brush his fingers over the sparkling chain around Nick’s throat. Nick’s hand covered his and the smile he shared was joyous and tender and shy.

Gil thought, withdrawing his hand and closing the door.
* * * *

Catherine’s house was nicely kept and filled with warmth and toys in equal measure. Nick found himself smiling even more when they walked inside. A wolf-whistle greeted them and Nick turned to find Catherine approaching with a wide grin on her face.

Gil held up a hand and warned, “Don’t you even start, Catherine.”

“Oh, of course not, Master Grissom,” she replied, the grin not abating a whit.

“NickNickNick! Do my hair again!” Lindsey exclaimed, running towards them and leaping at Nick.

He caught her easily and tossed her carefully into the air, enjoying her shriek of delight. Dipping her down low, he tickled her a little and asked, “Do you have homework?”

She gave an exaggerated sigh and answered, “Yes.”

“Then we’ll do some braids after that’s finished,” Nick promised, spinning her and setting her on her feet.

Lindsey swayed a couple of steps into her mother, but just grinned up at him and agreed, “Okay. Come on! Let me show you my room!”

Nick kissed Gil on the cheek, waved hastily to Catherine and ran after Lindsey with, “Hey wait, short-stop! I don’t know where your room is!”

* * * *

Gil laughed outright as Nick tore after Lindsey and motioned Catherine to the door. “Well, now that the kids are settled, why don’t the grown-ups get to work?”

Laughing as well, Catherine grabbed her coat and bag and followed him out to the SUV. “Nick is all that Linds has been able to talk about all day. Once I told her that he would be watching her from now on, she was so thrilled and hasn’t shut up since.”

Gil grinned and climbed inside the truck, silently cursing the tightness of the suit. Definitely time to start watching what he ate, especially if he was going to keep up with Nick. “I think Nick was equally as excited, though his mind was on other things most of the day.”

“Ah yes. Your date with Ms. Sidle,” Catherine agreed, dry.

Starting the car and backing down the driveway, Gil sighed and retorted, “It’s not a date.”

“Does she know that?”

“Catherine…”

“I’m just saying.”

Gil snorted and pulled into traffic. “When you ‘just say,’ something, I know I’m in trouble. Straight up, Cath, what should I expect tonight?”

Silent for a long moment, Catherine finally said, “You know that I like Sara. I always have, but I’m not blind to her faults the way you tend to be. I’d wait until after she gets her award to let her down gently. And I’d do it in public, with witnesses. It’s a good thing you’re going in separate cars, too.”

Wincing, Gil asked, “That bad? Will she be all right working with me after this?”

Catherine hesitated and replied, “I think so, but you can never tell.”

Wonderful. Just perfect.

* * * *

The dinner was as boring as Gil anticipated, despite the fact that Sara was an excellent conversationalist. Most of his thoughts centered on Nick and wondering how his slave was doing with the mini-Catherine whirlwind they all knew and loved. He was sure that they were doing better than he was at the moment, a lot better. All he could remember when he looked at Sara were the warnings from both Jim and Nick, and the comments from Catherine.

When her name was announced and Sara leaned over to kiss him, Gil was startled and didn’t move out of the way fast enough. Forcing a smile as she walked to the podium to accept the award, Gil grimaced mentally at the thought that pictures had surely been snapped right at that moment and the gossip would be all over Las Vegas in a flash that they were having an affair.

Something that he didn’t really care about, except that it could cause Nick any distress.

Gil wondered silently.
Not for the first time, he speculated on the symbiotic relationship of Owner and Owned. It wasn’t at all like the slaves bought and sold solely for labor, or those who were made so by criminal acts. There was nothing of love or respect in any of those Master and slave relationships and there wasn’t meant to be. Slavery in that form was a punishment, whether rightfully so or not, a burden of pain and misery, and something to be viewed with horror. At least in Gil’s point of view.

He’d never once been inclined to own a slave before Nick and had viewed his accidental purchase of Greg with an unconcealed dread. If Warrick hadn’t instantly offered to buy him from Gil, he didn’t know what he would have done with the traumatized young man.

But Nick was different and had been from the moment he’d laid eyes on Nick in that pen. Gil finally understood what Warrick was talking about when he went all mystical and philosophic about his relationship with Greg. Raised a Christian without slaves, Warrick had been neutral on the subject for as long as Gil had known him, apparently not caring one way or the other. But when Gil had walked into the office that night, a huddled, bruised, and scared Greg in his arms, Warrick had straightened as though shot through with lightening.

Gil had been a little in shock at the time that he’d stepped in and stopped the unfair beating Greg had been receiving from the pen broker. The broker had essentially blackmailed him into buying Greg with the implicit threat that if someone didn’t take the boy, he’d be dead by morning. When Warrick had stepped forward and taken Greg from him, Gil had seen something in the black man’s blue-gray eyes that had told him to accept the offer and let them leave together. It had been a wise decision, even though Gil hadn’t understood how Warrick had known that Greg was meant to be his with a single glance.

And then Sara returned in a cloud of silk and perfume and he had no more time for retrospection. He shifted subtly out of reach when she retook her seat, and congratulated, “You deserved it, Sara, congratulations.”

Beaming, Sara replied, “I still can’t believe I won! We have to celebrate!”

“You knew that you’d get it,” he countered, smiling and letting the other people at their table override him with their words and congratulations.

Fortunately, there was only one more award after Sara’s, and it was only a half-hour later that things began to break up. Holding her jacket up, he helped her slip into it and guided her towards the exit. Nervous now that they were heading back to her car, Gil tried to figure out what to say to her, not sure if he should even bring it up, despite the kiss. He could chalk that up to the heat of the moment, after all, it didn’t have to mean anything.

But then she leaned against her car and smiled coyly at him with, “We should go back to my place and celebrate properly. I have champagne.”

More than a little uncomfortable, Gil replied, “Sara, I’m sorry, I…I don’t know what I did to give you the impression that there was more between us than a good working relationship and friendship, but there isn’t. I don’t feel for you like that.”

Sara froze in place, her happy expression fading fast. “But you can feel like that for a slave?”

Stiffening in vague alarm at her vituperative tone, Gil ordered, “Leave Nick out of this. How I feel for him has nothing to do with how I feel for you.”

“So you do…”

“Friendship, Sara. And respect. And professional, perhaps paternal, pride in you and your work,” Gil interrupted. “I recruited you from San Francisco because you’re very good at what you do and we needed someone like you on the team. Don’t make the mistake in thinking that that means there’s more to our relationship than there is.”

Arms crossed over her chest, Sara snapped, “A slave, Gil, not your equal. A submissive ignorant who can’t even truly think. Do you honestly think that you can be happy with a slave in the long term? I know you, and I know the answer to that is ‘no.’ I also know that if you really think about it, once the novelty has worn off, you’ll discover that the only thing you feel for that slave is lust and the thrill of owning it.”

Gil thought in shock, wondering how he could have so misjudged her character.
Jaw clenched, he stated, “I’m sorry you believe that, Sara, but it doesn’t change anything. Nick is my slave, yes, and I will care for, and protect him, the rest of my life. He might even bear our children, if he so agrees. He wears my chain and my marks, and that is never going to change. I hope you can accept this, but if you can’t, I’ll understand and expect your resignation.”

Fury vied with shock as Sara struggled to not say whatever was clamoring to get out. Not seeing any point to remaining a stationary target, Gil just turned and walked away. His stomach was churning as he thought about what this could mean at work. If she resigned, if she didn’t resign but complained to personnel, maybe filed a sexual harassment suit, despite the fact that they’d never done anything. It was all sure to be a headache that he could do without.

Only one thing was sure and that was his feelings for Nick, no matter how much Sara had tried to belittle them.

* * * *

Nick knew that something was very wrong the moment Gil and Catherine came through the front door. He stood from the sofa and turned off the television looking from one to the other, but neither said anything so finally, he reported, “Lindsey went down at nine o’clock, no trouble. She wanted me to do some ‘real braids,’ as she put it, but I told her to ask your permission first.”

Catherine smiled, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it as she answered, “Thanks, Nick, I appreciate that.”

“Um, sure. No problem,” Nick said, grabbing his coat and walking over to Gil. “Everything okay?”

“I’ll tell you about it at home,” Gil answered.

“Night guys. Thanks again, Nick.”

Nick frowned, but answered, “Good night,” and followed Gil outside.

The air was cold, winter having decided to make an appearance for good, and Nick coughed a little at the transition, his lungs protesting.

A strong hand instantly rubbed his back and Gil asked anxiously, “Are you all right?”

Surprised by the concern bordering on worry, Nick assured him, “I’m fine. Just the cold air settling is all. Never really get used to how cold the desert gets, you know?”

A faint smile finally surfaced on Gil’s face as he agreed, “I know.”

“Master, what’s wrong?” Nick questioned, daring to grip Gil’s arm and pull him to a stop.

Huffing in aggravation, Gil informed him, “You were right. You and Jim and Catherine were all, very right, okay? I don’t know where the hell she got the idea that I was interested in her, I really don’t. I never meant to give her that kind of impression, I certainly didn’t do it on purpose, but Sara thought I was…that I wanted her. She invited me back to her apartment to celebrate her award. Oh, and she kissed me at the dinner, just so you know. I’m sure someone snapped a picture to put in the gossip columns.”

Rubbing his hands up and down Gil’s shoulders, Nick said simply, “You didn’t do anything, Master, except be yourself. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you?”

A real smile tugged at Gil’s lips and he answered, “Lots and lots of people, Nicky, trust me. I am not the most loveable person in the world.”

“You are to me,” Nick replied.

Tenderness chased over Gil’s face and he cupped Nick’s chin, just staring at him for a long moment. Shaking his head, he observed, “You’re incredible, Nicky, you really are.”

Flushing, Nick tried to lower his head, but Gil wouldn’t let him. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Gil insisted, tugging him close and kissing him sweetly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I think tomorrow is a good day to make an Offering to make sure the capricious nature of the Gods doesn’t take you from me.”

Fingers wrapped in Gil’s coat, Nick shook his head vehemently and whispered, “Don’t even joke about that, Master, please!”

“Oh Nicky, I wasn’t joking,” Gil promised, kissing him again, with intent this time.

Nick found himself backed against the SUV and groaned in need at the continued plundering of his mouth. It was only chance that shifted his gaze up where he caught sight of Lindsey looking at them through her window. She was a good twenty yards away and on the second floor, but there was no mistaking the dreamy look on her face.

Laughing softly, Nick broke the kiss and informed Gil, “Lindsey’s watching from her window.”

Startled, Gil started to turn to look, but Nick kept him in place and said, “Let her dream happy dreams. Girls that age need romance and fairy tales.”

Gil smiled at him and leaned in for another, quick kiss. “Little girls aren’t the only ones who need romance, Nicky. Let’s go home.”

Flushing, ducking his head against Gil’s chest for a moment, Nick nodded and pulled back to open the door. Gil took the handle, covering his hand, and waited until he was settled before closing the door for him. Leaning across the space, he unlocked the door for his Master.

“I missed you tonight,” Gil said, putting on his seatbelt.

Still shy, even after all they’d done and been through together, Nick flushed, but didn’t protest when Gil took his hand and kissed the palm. He only replied, “I missed you more, Master.”

A bright smile surfaced and Gil relinquished his hand to start the truck. “Not possible, Nicky, just not possible.”
The temple was as massive and gilded as Nick remembered and, though he tried not to look like a gawking idiot, he just couldn’t help himself. It was impossible to describe the wealth that decorated the temple walls and Nick’s eyes were wide as he took it all in. Gil nudged him and Nick’s jaw snapped shut with a click.

Chuckling softly, Gil asked, “How long since you’ve been to a temple, Nicky?”

“Ah, not since I was a child, with my family,” Nick replied. He shifted the offering of the bag of gold that Gil had entrusted to him from one hand to the other. “I’d forgotten how…opulent everything is here.”

Gil nodded to a passing priest and Nick’s eyes automatically dropped to the floor. He couldn’t remember a time when looking someone of authority in the eye was a right instead of a memory. The thought troubled him, and he pushed it away as unworthy of his Master and their surroundings.

“Nicky? You all right?”

The soft concern in his Master’s voice sent a stab of guilt through him and Nick stopped walking, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry, Master. I, I shouldn’t be here.”

A gentle hand gripped his arm and Gil asked, “What’s wrong? What do you mean?”

“I’m not worthy of you,” Nick whispered miserably. “You should whip me for disloyal thoughts.”

There was a long pause, then one of Gil’s hands tipped his chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. His master stared at him for a long moment before questioning, “What kind of thoughts?”

“I was…when you nodded to that priest just now…it, it reminded me of a time when I was allowed to do the same,” Nick admitted, barely able to voice his shame.

Understanding graced the older man’s features, as did a smile, brief though it was. “Nicky, it’s understandable that being here would raise memories and feelings that you haven’t had in a long time. I don’t have a problem with you thinking for yourself, I’ve already said that, though I know it hasn’t sunk in. I would only have a problem if you no longer wished to belong to me, if you wanted to run away from me.”

Honest horror lanced through him and Nick exclaimed, “Never, Master! I love you, I would never leave you!”

“I know that,” Gil soothed, a thumb brushing over Nick’s cheek. “That’s why we’re here today. I want the Minerva how grateful I am for being with you.”

Nick burrowed close to Gil, tucking himself into his Master’s arms as he whispered, “I love you more than life.”

“Then don’t worry so much about…etiquette. It’s enough for me that you do love me, and that I’ll own you for the rest of your life,” Gil assured him, kissing just below his ear.

Feeling better, Nick nuzzled against his Master’s throat and murmured, “Can I show you how thankful I am?”

“Here and now?” Gil teased.

Heat and lust throbbed within and Nick gasped at the thought of being taken in front of witnesses. Of his Master owning him so viscerally in such a sacred place.

A wicked chuckle rumbled through Gil’s chest and he said, “Well. That’s good for me to know, Nicky. Perhaps we’ll leave that for Venus’ or Eros’ temple, though, I doubt that Minerva would welcome such a display.”

“Yes, Master, of course,” Nick agreed, grinning.

The room of the temple in which they ended, to give thanks for a union, was less ornate than the others, though it still glittered with tribute. Gil shut the door behind them, separating them from the rest of the Temple in order to try and differentiate their tribute from other people’s. With Gil’s hand on his shoulder, a comforting weight, Nick spilled the gold coins with Minerva’s image imprinted on them into the already overflowing coffer. He was careful, making sure that not one coin slipped over the edge.

Dropping to his knees, his Master doing the same beside him, Nick whispered simply, “Thank you. Thank you for bringing us together.”

“Thank you for gifting me with a soul as precious as Nicky’s,” Gil stated firmly. “I will look after him and protect him for the rest of my life.”

A breeze flowed through the sealed room, sending the candlelight flickering, though they weren’t extinguished. The tinkling of delicate bells echoed all around and Nick watched in awe as the statue of Minerva seemed to glow from some inner light.

Gil’s arm slid around his waist and warm lips kissed the side of his throat as the other man said, “We’ve been Blessed, Nicky.”

Nodding, Nick turned into the embrace and sighed in happiness.

* * * *

It was quiet that night, just the two of them in the house as always, but there was a difference. Nick could feel the same peaceful and happy aura coming from his Master as he, himself, felt. Receiving a Blessing like today’s was a rare thing. Getting one from the Priestesses was difficult enough, never mind their union being Sanctioned by Minerva herself. Or perhaps it had been Eros, but either way, they were going to be together forever. Once this life was done, they would be reunited after death to be as one.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Gil observed, nuzzling at his throat. “Everything all right?”

Smiling, Nick replied, “Fine, Master. Just lost in thought.”

“Happy thought, I hope.”

“Very.”

Gil chuckled at his emphatic response and said, “Good. I was thinking that we should take a trip next month. Have you ever been out of Las Vegas?”

Surprise held him mute for a few moments, then Nick turned towards his Master and shook his head. “Well, I grew up in Texas, of course, but other than that, Las Vegas is the only place I’ve been.”

“Where would you like to go then?” Gil questioned. “Somewhere with snow? We could visit the Northeast and you could see New York and Boston. Or we could go to Europe, that would be nice. I’ve always loved Italy and the art there.”

“Europe?” Nick squeaked, then cleared his throat.

Laughing softly, Gil suggested, “You think about it and let me know where you want to go. We’ll get you travel papers and start planning for a vacation, how’s that?”

Nick threw his arms around his Master, knocking him down on the sofa, and exclaimed, “You’re too good to me, Master!”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil smiled up at him. “I could never be too good to you, Nicky, never.”

With a soft, happy kiss against the smile, Nick settled on his Master’s chest and curled up there. For several long minutes, Gil simply petted him, running his fingers through Nick’s short hair and trailing fingers up and down his back. Then the older man asked, “Do you miss your family, Nicky?”

Freezing in place, Nick didn’t know how to answer. He hadn’t even thought about his family in so long that it was hard to frame a response. Finally, he said, “I don’t really remember them. I mean, I do, but it’s almost like a life that belonged to someone else. Stupid, I know.”

“No, it’s not stupid, Nicky. It’s called disassociation and it’s a defense mechanism,” Gil assured him. “It’s perfectly natural. You were a child who’d been taken from his family and given to strangers, told that you had to obey every command. You simply removed yourself from the life you’d had before, so it was less painful.”

Nick nodded slowly and agreed, “That’s exactly right, yes. Master, why are you asking me?”

“If you want to find your family, find out what happened to them and maybe see if we can buy them to bring them here, I would be willing, Nicky,” Gil murmured.

Swallowing heavily, overcome by the offer, tears welled up and fell onto his Master’s chest. Gil wrapped both arms around him and held him silently, exactly what he needed, as his Master always seemed to know.

* * * *

Greg knew something was wrong even as he walked down the driveway towards the house he’d lived in most of his life. There was a strange car parked there and it had official plates. Frowning, he finished walking to the house and went inside. His mother was in the living room, talking with two strange men, and Greg took in their appearance with something akin to terror…slavers!

“Mom? What’s going on?” he demanded fearfully, finally tearing his eyes from the men to his mother to find her in tears.

Wiping at her eyes, his mother pleaded, “Greg, honey, I’m so sorry, but there’s no other way!”

Suspicion reared its ugly head and he asked, “No other way for what?”

“Just come with us and everything will be fine,” one of the men stated, walking towards him.

Eyes widening in horror, Greg shook his head. “No way! Mom, what’s going on? Hey! Get your hands off me! Stop it! Mom! Mom!”

* * * *

“Mom! Please, no, please! Help me!”

Cursing, Warrick bolted to his feet and sprinted from the living room to the bedroom where Greg had gone to sleep early. It had been a long time since the younger man had dreamed this particular nightmare, where his mother had sold him into slavery to pay off her debts, but it sounded as vicious as always. He climbed into the bed and shook Greg’s shoulder. “Greg! Wake up, man! It’s a dream! Wake up!”

Greg went eerily still, then his eyes opened and met Warrick’s. Shuddering, he rolled into Warrick’s arms and cried. Sighing, Warrick just rode out the storm, holding Greg and soothing him as best he could. All the shit with Crane had stirred up Greg something fierce inside. He hadn’t slept through the night since, even knowing that the bastard was dead.

Finally, Greg pulled away, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissue box. Warrick snagged the tissue from him and tenderly cleaned off the other’s face.

Clearly miserable, Greg apologized, “I’m sorry, Master. I just…I can’t seem to get passed this. I’m so weak, I can’t even stand myself!”

Combing his fingers gently through the wild hair, Warrick replied, “It’s going to take some time, Greg, it’s only been a few days. I know it’s not your strong suit, but be patient, okay?”

At that, a woebegone smile surfaced and Greg nodded. Warrick tweaked his nose and smiled at him. “Good. Go on and get yourself some water while I close up shop for the day. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Greg nodded again and scrambled off the bed towards the bathroom. Warrick’s smile grew and he climbed off the bed as well, heading back into the living room to shut off the laptop and run a check around the security systems. He kept turning something over in his mind, wondering if this was the best, or the worst, time to make this suggestion. It could go either way, actually. It could help cement Greg and give him something tangible to hold onto, or it could send him into a blind panic. Greg was so unpredictable that it was impossible to tell.

When he returned to the bedroom, Greg was already back under the covers and waiting for him. Warrick scooted under them and pulled his slave into his arms, tucking him under his chin. “It’s going to be okay, Greg, I promise. We’ll get through this like we do everything else.”

Greg sighed deeply and relaxed against him. It was a few minutes later that he said softly, “I love you, Master, so much.”

Shock ran through Warrick at the words and his arms tightened involuntarily.

“Master! Breathing helps!”

Instantly loosening his arms, Warrick kissed Greg’s temple and said hoarsely, “I love you too, Greg. More than life.”

“I know,” Greg murmured, kissing his chest. “I’ve known it since that first day when you bought me from Master Grissom, but I was still so…angry. And confused and afraid. I couldn’t let myself see it, not for a long time.”

Almost afraid to ask, Warrick prompted, “And now?”

Greg smiled against him and replied, “And now I’m content. I’ll always long for freedom to some degree, but there’s no reversing a convict-slave status. I’m lucky Master Grissom was able to pull some strings so I could work at the lab.”

“If we could reverse the convict-status, you know I would, right?” Warrick asked, hesitant. “But they take drug convictions so seriously…I know you didn’t do it and if there were a chance in hell that I could find the proof, I’d demand they reopen your case in a heartbeat.”

Nodding, Greg agreed, “I know. And that’s one of the reasons why I’m content. I’m your slave, but you value me as so much more.”

“I do, Greg, I really do.”

“I know, Master, and I love you for it.”

They were silent for a long time, then Warrick took a fortifying breath and asked, “Would you do me the very, very great honor of bearing our children?”

There was a moment of complete silence before Greg bolted upright with a whoop of excitement, displacing Warrick entirely and sending him off rolling the bed. Groaning at this impact of his ass to the unforgiving floor, Warrick didn’t even have time to move before Greg was on him.

Straddling Warrick’s hips, Greg put his hands on Warrick’s chest to keep him down and demanded, “When? Do you already have the hormone treatment ready? How long have you been thinking about this? Can we do it now? How many children? I really, really want a big family, because growing up as an only child really sucks and…”

Warrick stopped the tumbling words the best and easiest way: with a kiss. He stayed at it for several minutes, loving the way Greg just melted against him and returned the intimate stroke of tongue against tongue. He felt Greg’s cock hard against him, but they had things to talk about first. Breaking the kiss, Warrick lightly swatted Greg on the butt and ordered, “Back to bed.”

Scrambling back into bed, Greg practically vibrated with excitement as he waited for Warrick to get settled. “What do I do? When can I start?”

Unable to stop the grin, and not really wanting to, Warrick shook his head in fond amusement and said, “We can start now, if you want. I’ve talked to Dr. Gibbons a few times in detail and he’s sure that you’re young enough to take to the hormone treatments without any trouble. He gave me the pills and the injections since he knows that I know how to give a shot. But Greg, I really want you to think about this, okay? Your whole body, hell, both our lives are going to change if we have a kid.”

“Don’t you want one?” Greg questioned, his eyes big and uncertain.

Hastily, Warrick assured him, “I want a half dozen, if you’ll have them. You know I come from a big family. I think we’re going to have beautiful kids, baby, but it’s your body and your decision. This isn’t something that I’m going to go through with if you’ve got any doubts. A child shouldn’t be brought into a home unless both parents want it.”

A brilliant smile crossed Greg’s face and he reached out, twining his fingers with Warrick’s as he answered, “I want to have our children, Warrick, I want to give you sons and daughters and have a family. The kind I didn’t get when I was growing up.”

“Oh, baby, I wish I could change that for you,” Warrick sighed, bringing up their hands so he could kiss the back of both of Greg’s. “But if we have kids, all they’re going to know is love and home and security. I swear it.”

Swallowing unsteadily, Greg nodded emphatically and cleared his throat. “Let’s do it. Now. Please?”

Happiness washed through Warrick and he nodded in return, saying, “All right, baby. One baby on the way. Oh, and just a warning…do not bitch to me about morning sickness, got it?”

Greg laughed.

* * * *

“Catherine’s called in sick,” Gil announced, sighing in aggravation. He just didn’t need this! He’d been using her as a buffer between himself and Sara the last two days and it had proved necessary. Sara had been polite and civil, but distinctly cool. The thought of having to work directly with her started his stomach rumbling queasily. “Come on, Nicky, you’re coming into work tonight. You can help me make sense of the insanity that is my paperwork, or hang out with Greg in the lab.”

“Is she going to be all right? Maybe I should go over to help with Lindsey, or make sure she doesn’t get worse,” Nick suggested, worry clouding his expression.

A reluctant smile surfaced at Nick’s concern, cutting through the annoyance, and he said, “She’s contagious, so you’re not going anywhere near her. It’s an unpleasant stomach bug, but not serious. She’s got medicine and is just going to sleep through it.”

“What about Lindsey?” Nick persisted.

Wry, Gil answered, “She’s joined her mother in bed for the next few days. Come on, Nicky, get a move on.”

Nick didn’t hesitate any longer, he simply grabbed a couple of books that he’d been reading and followed Gil outside.

Once in the car, Gil asked, “Did you think any more about the trip?”

With an eager nod, Nick held up the history books with pictures of Rome and Florence on the front and said, “I think we should go to Italy, since you like it so much. Everything’s going to be new to me and I certainly never expected to travel anywhere in my life, so I don’t really have a preference. I’d like to experience your favorite.”

Smiling as he started the engine, Gil pulled the SUV out of the driveway. “That sounds like a wonderful plan to me. And while we’re there, we can offer another tribute to Minerva, maybe visit Eros’ or Mars’ temple and give a more…intimate…offering than gold.”

Nick shuddered when Gil’s hand gripped him between the legs. He arched into the touch and some perverse demon inside Gil prompted him to massage the flesh there until it was hard. Groaning, Nick’s fingers gripped the door and the seat, keeping himself still while Gil stroked him through his pants. “I love playing with you, Nicky, love touching you like this.”

“M-Master! Oh, Gods,” Nick gasped.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Gil used his free hand to drive Nick towards orgasm, rubbing him hard through the fabric and feeling it dampen beneath his grip. Nick moaned and jerked into the heavy-handed caress, soft words begging sweetly for his release. Taking his hand away to pull into the garage provoked a wail of disappointed need from Nick and he grinned fiercely at it.

Pulling into his parking spot, Gil unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, ordering, “Suck me, Nicky, quick! You can come when I do.”

Instantly, Nick was on him, mouth sucking on as much of Gil’s cock as he could. Lacing his fingers through the short hair, Gil pumped his shaft into the tight wetness, moaning as Nick relaxed his throat enough so that he could slip all the way inside. “Fuck! That’s it, Nicky, faster, do me faster!”

Nick obeyed immediately, head bobbing up and down, pausing only on those longer times when Gil’s ck went all the way down his throat. Gil forced Nick’s head all the way down just before he came, shooting directly down his slave’s throat. Nick moaned around him, adding to the sensation, but didn’t try to free himself, despite what had to be a lack of oxygen. Gil kept him there as he rode out the aftershocks, buried to the root inside Nick.

He felt the pulse fluttering rapidly beneath his hand, but it wasn’t until Nick jerked and went limp against him, that Gil released his slave.

Nick pulled off his again half-hard shaft, drawing in long, shuddering breaths as his forehead rested on Gil’s thigh. “Oh Master, Master…”

Tilting his head up with a finger beneath Nick’s chin, Gil saw the tear-stained face and obliterated expression with a deep sense of satisfaction. Bending over, he licked the salty tracks from Nick’s face and whispered hotly, “You please me so much, Nicky, I can’t wait to get you home in the morning.”

Nick just shuddered in response, eyes rolling back in his head as another weak spurt of seed escaped his cock.

* * * *

Gil looked curiously at Greg, who was humming softly to himself as he moved competently around the lab. There was something different about him, though Gil couldn’t put his finger on what. After four days off, he and Warrick had returned to work and, at least by outward appearances, whatever emotional turmoil Greg had gone through at Crane’ death, he was over it.

Shrugging, Gil entered the lab the rest of the way and greeted, “Evening, Greg.”

Greg didn’t stop what he was doing, he simply replied softly, “Good evening, Master Grissom. Can I help you with something?”

“I want to talk to you about the Harrison case,” Gil said, taking a seat on a lab stool.

Finishing up whatever it was that he was working on, Greg turned his full attention on Gil and asked, “What about it?”

“Tell me the protocol that you used. Walk me through it as if I didn’t know how it was done,” Gil ordered with a smile.

A faint frown creased Greg’s face, but he did as he was ordered without protest. He walked Gil through every step that he’d taken, from start to finish, and ended with, “Once the samples were sealed, I sent them via courier to the Federal lab to compare to the samples they had.”

“And we have more samples here?” Gil questioned.

“Of course. Do you want to see them?”

“Please.”

Gil watched and waited as Greg took the labeled samples from the refrigerator where they were kept and doled out a tiny sample to be viewed under the microscope. Once it was ready, Gil took a long look and found that there was nothing wrong with the sample. Everything looked exactly as it should, with no contamination.

That meant that either the Federal lab had messed up the samples, or Sara had done it herself and was lying about it.

“Is everything all right, Master Grissom?” Greg asked hesitantly.

Glancing up from the microscope at Greg, he smiled in reassurance and said, “It’s fine, Greg. Consider this a spot check. You passed with flying colors, which was exactly what I expected.”

Relieved, Greg smiled shyly and lowered his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you later, Greg. Time to go spot-check your Master,” Gil teased.

A small chuckle escaped Greg and his eyes rose briefly to show his humor as he replied, “He’ll appreciate that, Master Grissom.”

Snorting, Gil agreed, “Like a hole in the head. Bye, Greg.”

Leaving the lab, Gil was on his way to call Warrick when his beeper beeped. He didn’t recognize the number, but made a mental note of it on his way to the office. He called the number back and a woman answered, “McNeil and Chavez, how may I direct your call?”

Gil frowned and said, “My name is Gil Grissom and someone from your office paged me.”

“Yes, Master Grissom, that was Ms. McNeil. One moment.”

He waited impatiently on hold, about to hang up when a woman greeted, “Master Grissom, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Jenny McNeill and I represent Maria Crane in the wrongful death suit against you. I would like to schedule a deposition with you and your slave.”

Anger flashed through him, but Gil held on to his temper. The woman was only doing her job, after all. He would save his ire for the right target and strike at the right moment. “Aside from the fact that this is a frivolous suit and a waste of the court’s time, I’m a very busy man, Ms. McNeil. You may inform Ms. Crane that we are available tomorrow at three and to take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Jenny agreed instantly. “We’re at 10245 West Avenue, in Suite 805. Thank you for your time, Master Grissom.”

Hanging up, Gil had to take a few minutes to calm down. It wouldn’t do to let himself get rattled over this, even if he was uncertain how the courts would react to the situation. Jim was convinced that it was open and shut in his favor, but Gil wasn’t. Things looked different in the light of day, under the stark examination of a deposition or courtroom setting.

He shook the disquieting thoughts from his head and picked up the phone again to call the Federal lab. If Sara was trying to somehow set Greg up for a fall, then Warrick had a right to know about it, but Gil wasn’t going to tell him just yet. He needed more evidence and the certainty that someone else hadn’t messed up.

* * * *

“That is so cool,” Nick marveled, looking closely.

Greg preened under the praise and said, “That’s nothing. You should see the tat my Master got me for my birthday last year!”

“Well?”

“Oh, uh, not in public,” Greg replied, red flushing through his cheeks. “I got in trouble last time.”

“Definitely not in public. Brown’s got even less inhibitions than you do about showing you off.”

They both turned towards Jim and Greg smirked impudently at the comment. “That’s because I’m perfect.”

Eyes rolling, though his lips twitched in amusement, Jim glanced over at Nick and asked, “Where’s your Master? He’s slipped away again, and I really wish I knew how he manages to do that so I could put a stop to it.”

Nonplused, Nick shook his head, answering, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since we first got here and he gave me a ton of files to sort through.”

“I saw him about an hour ago,” Greg offered. “He was doing some kind of spot-check thing and said he was going to catch up with Warrick.”

A frown creased Jim’s face, but he only said, “Thanks, Greg. Stay out of trouble, you two,” and left the lab area.

Nick’s eyes were drawn back to the bare skin of Greg’s stomach where the traditional tattoo sigil that signified ‘honored slave above all’ rested over and around small inward curve of the belly-button. “I wonder if my Master would give me one of those?”

Grinning, Greg looked around the area and whispered, “Let’s go to the men’s room and I’ll show you the other tat.”

“You’re on!” Nick exclaimed, racing after the smaller slave.

* * * *

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Cath.”

Sighing faintly, Catherine wiped Lindsey’s forehead down and returned the face cloth to the bowl of ice water. They were both fairly miserable, but at least it wasn’t too serious if she kept them hydrated and cool. “So there’s no evidence either way?”

“Not conclusively, no. I talked to the lab tech in the Fed’s office and he admitted that there could have been an error on their end. They were shorthanded and breaking in a new employee when the samples were handled,” Grissom answered.

“I want Nicky!” Lindsey demanded crossly, tears welling.

Catherine sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she answered, “Nicky can’t come over until we get better, Linds, you know that.”

“I want Nicky!” Lindsey wailed.

“Should I call back?”

Catherine snorted and answered, “No, she’ll get over it. Just tell Nicky that Lindsey misses him. And his braiding skills.”

A warm chuckle echoed from the other end and Grissom replied, “I’ll pass on the message.”

“Good, good. As for Sara…” Catherine’s voice trailed off as she turned over the possibilities. “Why don’t you let me talk to her? I know she’s been cool to Greg in the past, but I never noticed any serious grudges she had against slaves. Nick is probably more sensitive to prejudices like that because he is a slave, but he could also be overreacting to someone he perceives as a threat.”

“A threat?” Grissom demanded incredulously.

Eyes rolling, Catherine repeated, “Yes, Gil, a threat. Sara is everything someone of your rank should have as a wife and companion; she’s intelligent, comes from an impeccable family, shares your passion for your work and doesn’t know when to quit.”

There was a brief silence before Grissom admitted, “I never thought of it like that. I mean, I knew he was jealous of the time I spent with her, but he knows how much I love him.”

“And if Nicky spent a lot of time with, say, Warrick, you wouldn’t see Warrick as a threat?” Catherine challenged.

“Point taken. All right, sound her out. Thanks, Catherine.”

“Anytime. Well, once we’re back to normal that is.”

“You take it easy. And if you need anything…”

“I’ll call,” she promised. “Good luck tomorrow. Call me and let me know how it went.”

“I will, thanks again,” Grissom replied.

Hanging up, Catherine noticed the pinched, sick look on Lindsey’s face just in time to roll her over so she threw up on the floor and not in the bed.

* * * *

Nick smiled at his Master’s entrance into the common area and asked eagerly, “Time to go?”

Echoing the grin, Gil nodded and answered, “I have to meet up with Jim for a few minutes before he blows a gasket, so why don’t you go down to your locker and get your things? I’ll meet you in my office.”

Hopping off the sofa, Nick paused only long enough to buss a kiss onto his Master’s cheek and headed swiftly for the locker area. It didn’t take long to get to the right floor, he’d already gotten lost twice that day and was starting to be able to find his way around. Some people even smiled and nodded at him, recognizing him from prior introductions.

Nick went through the locker room door and stopped short in shock, freezing in place as the door clicked softly shut behind him. Heat slashed through him, his cock hardening as he took in the sight of Greg, naked and straining, arms over his head as he gripped the top shelf of an open locker. Standing right in front of him was, of course, Warrick. The black man wasn’t naked; his shirt was off and his pants unzipped with his own cock hard and thick, pointing at Greg.

One dark hand gripped Greg’s cock, stroking it roughly. The other was hidden by Greg’s body, but from the younger man’s cries, it was obvious what Warrick’s hidden hand was doing. Warrick leaned in and bit at a nipple, pulling the skin taut, not releasing it as his head moved back. Greg groaned in pain, his chest arching out further.

Warrick let it go and hissed, “Fucking slut, Greg, that’s what you are! Can’t even make it a few hours without a cock, can you? You’re like a bitch in heat, exactly like one. And since you act like one, I’ll treat you like one and mount you. Just like this, bitch, mounting you in public, anywhere, dry, and shoving my cock in your hole.”

He flipped the smaller man around hard enough to shove Greg face first into the locker beside the opened one. Warrick palmed the ass and spread it, forcing his cock into a hole that seemed much, much too small for it. Greg cried out in what sounded like honest pain, his fingers white-knuckled on the locker as Warrick started fucking him without any mercy or apparent care. The black cock rammed in and out of Greg while Warrick continued uttering harsh curses at the slave.

It wasn’t until Greg started begging that Nick jumped in surprise, completely caught up in the sound of Warrick’s deeper tones.

“Please, please Master, I’m sorry, oh Gods, I’m sorry!” Greg pleaded, doing nothing except trying to keep himself in place.

“Tough shit, bitch. You wanted it, you got it,” Warrick snarled on a particularly hard thrust that caused Greg to scream.

Nick jumped backwards, hitting the door with a thump and drawing Warrick’s attention, something he desperately wanted to avoid. Dark eyes caught his, shocked at the interruption, but before Warrick could say or do anything, Nick fled.

* * * *

Gil jumped in surprise when the office door banged open to show a wild-eyed Nick, who barely caught the door on the rebound so it didn’t knock back into him. The young man automatically closed the door and then didn’t move. Alarmed by the shock and panic on the slave’s face, Gil stood and hurried over to him with, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Master, oh Gods, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean, I mean, they were there, and Warrick was…and I, I couldn’t help myself, with, with Greg and, and I didn’t mean to!” Nick wailed, dropping to the floor at Gil’s feet.

Keeping a firm grip on both imagination and temper, though it was more difficult to do than anything in recent memory, Gil demanded, “What didn’t you mean to do?”

Nick flinched at the harsh question and whispered, “I, I watched, Master, and it, I was, I was hard!”

Gil stopped short, suddenly very thankful that he’d kept his temper. He often forgot just how sheltered Nick had been, the young man had so seamlessly molded himself to Gil’s life. It occurred to him just then, that Nick had probably never even watched porn, let alone been treated to the kind of impromptu show that Warrick and Greg liked to put on.

Still. Gil wasn’t one to let an opportunity like this go by, either.

“Stand up, Nicky.” The nick-name alone told Nick that everything was all right, but he was clearly confused and miserable as he obeyed. Gil hid a smile at the expression, gripping Nick’s chin firmly as he ordered, “Strip and then get in the same position that Greg was in. Use whatever props you have to, but I want you as close to how he was as you can be.”

Nick frowned, but again obeyed, quickly taking off his clothes, even as he looked anxiously over at the door with its glass upper half. It was a murky glass, though, so no one could really see inside.

When Nick put his back to a shelving unit and gripped the top shelf, his chest thrust out from the position, Gil joined him and asked, “Was Warrick naked, too?”

“Um, no. N-not completely. His shirt was off and his pants open with his c-cock out,” Nick stammered, blushing.

Gil pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside deliberately. Slowly, he unzipped and pulled his cock out, stroking it the rest of the way to hardness. He saw Nick swallow, eyes glued to the cock as it grew larger, then prompted, “What did Warrick say, Nicky? I know he’s got quite the vocabulary range.”

“I, I don’t think I can…”

“What did he say, slave?”

Nick jumped at the hard tone, his blush moving south over the pale skin as he whispered, “H-he called Greg a slut and he, um, he said Greg was a, a b-bitch in heat.”

“And what was he doing while he said all that?” Gil questioned lightly, his tone still brooking no refusal.

“He was, um, stroking Greg and I couldn’t see exactly what his other hand was doing because it was be-behind Greg,” Nick replied.

Gil suited his actions to those words and moved closer, gripping Nick’s cock and sliding his other hand behind Nick to probe at his hole. Nick gasped as the finger pushed in without warning and Gil ordered, “Keep going. What else did Warrick say?”

“He said, he said that if Greg was going to, to act like a b-bitch in heat, that he’d be, um, treated like one. That he was going to mount him in public and dry, anywhere. Just shove his cock in Greg’s hole.”

Gil’s finger was accepted reluctantly without the lube, but he forced the body to take it, watching Nick for signs of real distress and seeing none. “What next?”

“He, he kind of flipped Greg around, pushing him against the locker and then just, he just…Master!”

Gil didn’t give him any time to think about it, he just lined up his cock and forced it into Nick’s tight hole, provoking a cry of surprise and pain as it shoved all the way inside. Pressed up against him full length, resting his chin on Nick’s shoulder, he demanded, “What next, slave?”

“He just, he just took him, hard, it was, was almost, violent,” Nick groaned between pants.

“And you liked it,” Gil whispered, biting Nick’s ear sharply. “You wanted it just like that, didn’t you, slave?”

“Gods, I, I did, Master, I’m sorry!”

“So you’re a bitch in heat, just like Greg, aren’t you, slave? A whore and a slut, eager for my cock, or maybe just for anything to split you open. Maybe Warrick and I should sell tickets and put you both out on the street. Earn your keep as whores for the world to see with any man’s cock, or any woman’s fist, up your ass. Is that it, slave?”

“Master,” Nick moaned.

In answer, Gil started fucking him, hard and fast, his cock forcing its way in and out of Nick’s dry hole, smearing it with pre-come, but not fast enough to take the burn and pain of it away, he knew. Nick cried out almost continuously, squirming to get away from the reaming, his hands tight on the shelving unit that shook with the force of Gil’s thrusts into his slave. Reaching below showed that Nick was still hard and he grinned fiercely.

Gil was fast approaching his orgasm, ignoring the begging that fell so pretty from Nick’s mouth. He bit and sucked all over Nick’s sweaty back, nipping at the muscles that moved beneath the skin. His cock hardened that little bit before orgasm, his balls drawing up tight, and then he humped violently into Nick, coming and filling the hole to overflowing.

Panting, Gil rested completely on Nick, knowing the other would hold him up until he could move. The tension in Nick’s back was almost painfully tight and Gil grinned, feral with the unspoken desires that he’d been reluctant to so far visit on Nick. Despite the young man’s reaction to the idea of a public claiming at one of the temples, Gil hadn’t been all that sure how Nick might react to some of his more…esoteric desires. He pulled out of Nick, ordering, “Bend over the desk.”

Nick staggered the few feet across the room and didn’t so much as bend over the desk, as he did collapse on it.

Gil stared at the enticing body, watching the come splattered ass and glistening hole for a few minutes before sliding his belt free. Folding it in half, he moved up behind Nick and reached beneath him again, rudely fingering the hard cock as he warned, “If you come, you will regret it.”

Nick shuddered.

Bringing the makeshift strap down on Nick’s bare ass caused the slave to cry out, jerking against the glass desk. Gil rained down blows on the pale ass, heavy-handed and without mercy, until Nick was sobbing, tears deliciously staining his face, and begging for him to stop. By then, the ass was a dark, angry red and Gil was hard again.

Throwing the belt down, Gil moved behind Nick and rammed into him, the still wet come easing his passage, though not by much. Nick shouted as the fucking resumed, just as hard and violent as the first coupling. Feeling Nick’s cock showed Gil that while Nick might be in pain, he was enjoying it, too. He’d known that from the way that Nick hadn’t even attempted to evade the whipping until his ass was rosy red from several blows, but relief nonetheless surged through him at the confirmation.

Grunting, Gil came again in only a few short thrusts, spilling inside Nick, though not as copiously as before. Nick was completely limp beneath him and for a second, Gil thought he’d been unable to restrain himself and had come. A fast grope between the legs disproved that, though, and after catching his breath, Gil pulled out of the abused hole. A visceral thrill ran through him at the sight of blood on his cock, even as it warred with concern that Nick might have been truly injured.

Gil manhandled Nick onto his back, the slave moaning in pain when his ass came into contact with the desk. Nick’s cock was just as dark red as his ass, and the blush was spread through most of his body to match. Bending over Nick, he licked up the angry cock, bathing it with his tongue.

Nick whimpered.

After nuzzling the balls, Gil mouthed them, sucking on them and rolling them with his tongue.

Nick’s body arched up, his mouth open in a silent scream of need. Gil was almost positive that the other had come, but when he stood, it was to see the straining, drooling cock exactly the same. Without further delay, he gripped the shaft and stroked it roughly, ordering, “Come, Nicky!”

He’d barely gotten the word out before Nick’s body seized up in an arch and he erupted silently, coming all over himself and the desk. Gil watched avidly, taking in every straining muscle and every drop of sweat that mixed with the seed now splattered across Nick’s abs and chest.

Finally, Gil shook himself from the lustful daze and pushed his pants off the rest of the way. He moved to the sofa lining his wall, pulling the blanket down and spreading it out to cushion his exhausted slave. Returning to the desk showed that Nick was completely out of it and Gil smiled, filled with love and devotion as he carefully scooped the young man into his arms.

Settling them onto the couch so that Nick was resting face down on Gil’s chest to save the pained ass any more contact, Gil pulled the other blanket over them and yawned, kissing Nick’s temple. It was about five minutes later that there was a tentative knock on the door and Gil called out, “Enter!”

Warrick poked his head inside and asked, “Everything okay?”

Nodding, Gil combed his fingers through Nick’s sweaty hair and confirmed, “Everything’s great. Nick just got an unexpected initiation into exhibitionism.”

“Gil, I swear I didn’t even think about Nick when I started with Greg,” Warrick apologized, abashed. “You know how we get wrapped up in things and forget where we are.”

Gil chuckled softly. “I know. And it’s fine. What’s with the ‘bitch in heat,’ theme though? That’s a new one.”

Straightening with obvious pride, Warrick replied, “Greg’s come into his cycle so, you know, it’s pretty accurate.”

Surprised, Gil exclaimed, “I didn’t even know he’d been taking the shots! Congratulations, Warrick!”

“Thanks, man, we appreciate that,” Warrick answered, grinning broadly. “Though damn, I don’t know if I’ll get through this with my dick intact. He’s got me completely whipped, Gris, completely. When this is done, I don’t think I’ll get another hard-on for months.”

Laughing softly, Gil pointed out, “He won’t want you to, once he starts gaining weight. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Heh. True. Well, I’ll leave you guys alone. See you tomorrow,” Warrick said, waving.

Gil waved back and wrapped his arms back around Nick, sighing deeply. So Warrick and Greg were trying for a baby. Interesting and happy news. Contemplating it, Gil yawned and slowly allowed his exhausted body to drag him down into sleep.

* * * *

Sara watched as Nick and Gil walked to the SUV, the slave walking gingerly enough that she knew exactly what the two men had just been up to. It sickened her, how solicitous Gil was to the slave, helping it get into the truck and then settling the seatbelt. A soft growl of anger escaped when Gil leaned in and gently kissed the slave before walking around to the driver’s side.

Taking a breath, Sara deliberately calmed herself. It wasn’t a good idea to go into battle without a clear head, and that was exactly what was about to happen. She’d made her feint and tomorrow would show exactly how it paid off. All the pieces were in play and, Gods willing, the slave would be in other hands within forty-eight hours. Once that happened, Gil would be hers, as he was meant to be.

Sara had never lost a battle before and wasn’t about to start, not when the stakes were so high.
Nick’s ass was killing him, a throb of pain beating in time to his pulse, but there was a grin plastered ear-to-ear on his face. He couldn’t even sleep, he was still so jazzed by what had happened in his Master’s office. Gil was sound asleep beside him, an arm tossed possessively over Nick’s chest, but Nick knew that it would be a long time before he’d be able to get some sleep.

Not that what he and his Master had been doing since they met hadn’t been more than recreational, but there was definitely a difference. He couldn’t wait to get to the lab the next day to talk to Greg about it. And to congratulate him too, of course.

But looking over at the peaceful expression of his sleeping lover, Nick couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he curled onto his side and scooted closer, backing up until he was pressed all along the front of his Master’s body.

Hopefully the position would encourage his Master’s very, very active libido when it was time to get up in the morning.

* * * *

Despite the short amount of sleep he’d received, Gil woke completely relaxed and refreshed, curled comfortably around Nick, who was sound asleep in his arms. Smiling, he nuzzled the back of Nick’s sleep-warmed neck and kissed it for added measure. His cock was mostly hard, nestled in its absolute favorite place to be, but Gil knew that Nick wouldn’t be in any shape for penetrative sex.

Sighing in disappointment, he climbed carefully out of bed, watching with another smile as Nick curled around his pillow, still asleep. He gazed on his slave for a few loving moments, then shook his head and aimed for the kitchen.

Gil started poured himself some coffee and grabbed the paper from the front door before settling into read it. It was early yet, he wouldn’t need to wake Nick for another half-hour or so to start getting ready for the lawyer’s visit. After a few minutes scanning the headlines, he picked up the phone and called Catherine’s number.

“Hello?”

Wincing at the groggy answer, Gil apologized, “Sorry, Catherine. I was calling to see if you’d be in tonight, but I guess not.”

A little more awake, Catherine answered, “Definitely not. Our fevers are gone, thankfully, but I don’t want to leave Lindsey alone just yet, she’s still pretty weak. I hope Nick won’t think I don’t trust him, but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Gil assured her. “Nick’s actually still sleeping.”

“Oh? How about some details?”

Chuckling at the mischievous tone, Gil scolded, “I do not Claim and tell.”

“Ooh. Nice, Grissom,” Catherine teased.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get the outlying story from Warrick at some point.”

“What does Warrick have to do with it?”

Gil grinned, feeling a bit evil, and answered, “You’ll just have to ask him, now, won’t you?”

“Bastard,” she replied, without venom. “Oh. Look, I talked to Sara yesterday. This morning. Whenever the hell it was.”

Cautious now, Gil questioned, “And?”

Catherine sighed. “And she’s pissed. She didn’t say much, basically telling me to mind my own business, but I’ve seen that look in her eyes.”

“What look?”

“A woman scorned.”

“Great,” Gil sighed.

“I wouldn’t start looking into poison testers just yet, but you might want to keep an eye on Nick.”

A thrum of alarm ran through Gil as he demanded, “Why? What did she say? Did she threaten him?”

“No! No, Gil, nothing like that,” Catherine assured him. She paused and added, “It’s just that when people feel they’ve been wronged, when love’s been rejected, you know how crazy it makes everyone. And unpredictable.”

Knowing Catherine was right, Gil nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, okay. Get some rest and get back to work, all right? I need you there, Cath. And not because of Sara, but because you’re the best I’ve got.”

There was a pause before Catherine replied softly, “Thanks, Gil.”

He smiled. “I mean it. Give Linds a kiss for me.”

“I will. Take care.”

Gil hung up and, looking at the clock, decided to go rouse Nick. He’d probably be moving a little slower than usual anyhow, after the Claiming they’d had the night before. Gil smiled, thoroughly happy with how his life had turned out. Once they got rid of this ridiculous lawsuit, and things with Sara settled down, everything would be perfect. He would have his career, he’d have Nicky, and he’d have his friends. What more could he ask for?

Absolutely nothing.

With that thought in mind, Gil sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss his slave awake. Nick stirred, smiling into the kiss, then groaned and pulled away, opening his eyes with an accusing look. Smug, Gil questioned, “Problem, Nicky?”

“By the Gods, Master, you’ve killed me,” Nick groaned.

Gil bussed a kiss onto his nose and said, “It’s not permanent. Come on, I’ll help work out the kinks in the shower.”

“You should, you put them there,” Nick muttered.

Laughing, Gil helped him out of bed and they moved slowly to the bathroom. He gave Nick a couple of pain relievers first, then rubbed him down under steaming hot water, massaging the sore muscles inside and out with loving care. Nick moaned, his cock hard as he pushed back on the fingers inside him. Gil took care to be as gentle as he could be, stimulating Nick’s prostate constantly, but barely moving his fingers so as not to make the tear in the tender flesh worse.

He rubbed against Nick’s flank and was surprised when his slave took hold of his cock, pumping him in time to the movements in Nick’s body. It didn’t take long before he was aching to come and he leaned in to bite Nick’s ear, commanding in a low voice, “Come Nicky, come for me.”

Nick gasped and shuddered, spilling against the wall, with Gil was right behind him, spurting over Nick’s hand. Withdrawing his fingers, Gil nuzzled the wet skin beneath Nick’s ear and murmured, “I love you, Nicky.”

“Mmm,” Nick replied, giving him a goofy grin.

Gil laughed out loud at that and moved the younger man under the shower so they could get washed off and ready for the day.

* * * *

“Master?”

“Yes, Nick?”

Nick hesitated, then asked, “Do you want children?”

Thoughtful, Gil said, “In an abstract way, yes. I don’t want my family name to die with me, of course, and I want to have children with you, but I’m not ready to give you up yet. I don’t know if I ever will be, to be honest. I’m selfish, Nicky, I want you all to myself and I don’t see that changing. Does that upset you?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know, Master. I don’t think so. I haven’t ever really thought about it. I never thought about even being with someone before, let alone having their children. I want to have your children, but I don’t think I’m ready to give you up, either.”

Cupping his face, Gil replied, “Well, it’s not like we have to decide this very minute. There’s plenty of time down the road for that. Right now, it’s time just for us.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed happily, leaning into the caress.

Once parked, Nick slowly eased out of the car, his ass one big bruise now that he was down from the morning’s sexual high. Meeting his Master’s worried gaze, he joked, “I think I’ll be standing up the rest of the day.”

“Maybe I should get someone to look at you,” Gil fussed as they walked to the elevator.

Nick shook his head and said, “I’m fine, Master, just sore.”

Gil maintained a worried look, but nodded. They reached the elevator and Gil hit the call button, saying, “Now, there’s no way that you can be forced to testify against me, or even give a report of what happened, because you’re my slave. I don’t know why they wanted you present, but don’t worry about it.”

Nodding, a little worried himself now, Nick questioned, “What’s going to happen exactly?”

“They’ll ask me questions about what went on with Crane. It’s just a deposition, Nicky, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a lawyer who’s going to meet us in the office. If there’s something more going on here than the obvious, she’ll suss it out. She’s very good.”

A little relieved that they weren’t going in there alone, Nick moved close to his Master in the elevator, wanting the physical comfort. Gil smiled at him, sliding his arm around Nick’s waist and tugging him in for a tight hug and a long kiss. Feeling better once the kiss broke off, Nick rested his cheek to his Master’s shoulder and sighed in contentment. “I love you, Master.”

Soft lips pressed to the top of his head as Gil replied, “I know, Nicky, I love you too. Come on. Let’s go take care of this.”

They walked down the hall of the expensive, high-rise corridor and entered the busy law office. Nick looked around curiously, never having been in one before, and found that it was a lot different than the PD and CSI lab areas. There was a reception desk without bullet-proof glass, for one, and no cops walking prisoners around, for another.

Gil tugged him to the side where a woman in his mid-to-late forties was smiling at them. She was tall for a woman and reminded Nick of his Mistress, with that no-nonsense attitude that screamed ‘I can argue you to a standstill so shut up now.’ He relaxed a little as she was introduced as Kara Walker, Gil’s attorney, and she held out her hand. He took it and said respectfully, “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Walker. Thanks for your help with this.”

“Oh Gil, he’s adorable,” Kara sighed, smiling at him. “No wonder you’re head over heels for him!”

Gil smiled with pride and said, “Thanks, Kara. So, we ready?”

She nodded and motioned them towards a conference room. “I’ve never tangled with this firm personally before, but they’re good. Creative. They make a lot of money on cases that no one expects them to win, so I’m not going to underestimate anyone here. Make sure you do the same. And Nick honey, keep your mouth shut unless I tell you to speak, all right?”

Nick nodded, a little worried by her words. Gil rubbed the small of his back, reassuring him, and Nick gave him a grateful smile.

Inside the conference room was a stenographer and two other women. The first was blond and petite, pleasant to look at and smiling. The second instantly reminded him of Crane and he moved as close to Gil as he could, not liking the way her dark eyes glared to fiercely at his Master. She was taller than Crane, but had the same angry set to her face, not a pretty woman.

Introductions were made around the table and Nick sank to the floor at Gil’s side, putting his hand on his Master’s thigh. Gil covered it with his own, holding it lightly.

“All right. Let’s get started right away. I don’t want to take up your valuable time, Master Grissom,” Jenny began, smiling. “This is the deposition of Master Gil Grissom and his slave Nick regarding the wrongful death suit of Master Nigel Crane.”

“First of all,” Kara interrupted smoothly. “You can not deposition Nick for anything, let alone in a matter that directly concerns his own Master, because of his slave status.”

Jenny pushed a file across the desk at her and replied, “I can. In St. Petersburg v. Bolshoi, the court ruled that testimony from a slave not of a convict-slave status can be used in a court of law for either civil or criminal suits.”

Kara gave her an incredulous look, but took the file and looked through it. “St. Petersburg, Russia?”

“That’s right.”

“Last I checked, this was an American court of law. Russian law doesn’t even apply.”

“If you’ll recall your first year law, Councilor, Federal law supercedes State, but Imperial law…”

“Supercedes Federal,” Kara finished. “What has that to do with this? There’s no Imperial law circumventing the 1703 ruling about a slave not being able to testify in court.”

Jenny nodded and agreed, “True. There is, however, a very simple law that states, ‘All laws are equal under Imperial Justice.’”

A slow smile spread over Kara’s face as she said, “I’d heard you were creative, but this goes much, much further than simple creativity.”

“Thank you,” Jenny replied, echoing the smile.

“That still doesn’t mean I’m going to let Nick give a deposition. Even if he did, the courts would throw it out.”

“So what does it hurt for him to give it?”

Kara eyed her for a long moment, then stated, “You’ve got something else, or you wouldn’t be so sure of yourself.”

Shrugging almost apologetically, Jenny said, “I do, actually. There’s a little known Imperial law dating back several hundred years that says when two states conflict in law, all evidence is admissible into council.”

“What law?” Kara snapped.

There followed a legal discussion that Nick had no clue how to follow. The tones were sharp as the women battled back and forth, citing and counter-citing case after case. Nick was vaguely surprised not to see smoke coming from the stenographer’s fingers as they flew over the small keyboard. The only thing he really knew was that his Master’s expression showed absolutely nothing and that frightened him. Gil was one of the most expressive people he knew, and for him to be upset enough to stone-wall…

Nick put his forehead against his Master’s thigh, his hand tightening its grip as he tried not to hear the near-argument going on above him.

Gil bent over him, wrapping his arms around Nick and holding him tight as he murmured into Nick’s ear, “It’s all right, Nicky, I promise. If you have to give a deposition, just tell the truth and you won’t get into trouble.”

Remembering everything that his Master had said and done that night, Nick raised scared eyes to the other man and whispered, “It isn’t me that I’m worried about.”

Gil smiled faintly, cupping his face and bringing him in for a gentle kiss. “Just tell the truth, Nicky.”

Nick nodded reluctantly and sighed, resting his cheek to his Master’s thigh. Gil’s fingers combed slowly through his hair in a soothing motion. It was several minutes later that some kind of agreement was made and Gil tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He knelt up and looked over at Kara, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Nick, I’m going to let Ms. MacNiell ask you a few questions about the night of the duel. Don’t worry about how this will impact your Master, just tell the truth and everything will be fine,” Kara said. “Why don’t you sit over here by me?”

Uncertain, Nick glanced at Gil, who nodded. He stood and left his Master’s side and took the seat on the other side of Kara, his eyes flickering down to the table automatically.

“Nick, you can look at me while I ask you the questions if you want,” Jenny offered.

Nick hesitated, then looked up at her, not at all reassured by her encouraging smile.

“Hi there,” she greeted.

“Um, hi,” he replied.

She didn’t talk to him like he was a child, but did use a tone that was probably reserved for frightened victims. “I want you to tell me what happened the night of the Mayor’s party. Start from the beginning, when you arrived, and just keep going until the duel.”

Nick hesitated again and looked over at Kara, who nodded. Sighing, he related, “Um, we got there and greeted the Mayor. He said some nice things about me and then we left.”

“Did the Mayor say anything to your Master?”

“Uh, well, he did mention that Master Crane was, was at the party. And that I was Master Crane’s, um, type,” Nick replied.

“And what did your Master say in response to this?”

“I, I can’t remember exactly,” Nick fudged.

Gil’s voice was calm as he ordered, “Nicky, go ahead and answer her. Tell the truth, remember?”

Unhappy, Nick nodded and answered, “My Master said that he’d be short a few vital parts if he touched me.”

“‘He’ being Master Crane?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And then what happened?”

Embarrassment heated him as he answered, “My Master made use of me in a private chamber, then we went to the banquet area. He, my Master, got me some fruit to eat and then had to do some mingling with the other guests.”

“So he left you alone,” Jenny prompted.

“Yes, but…”

Jenny interrupted with, “Please go on, Nick.”

Too used to obeying women in authority, Nick didn’t further his protest, he simply continued, “Then Master Crane showed up.”

“And what happened then?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick explained, “He said that he was going to Claim me, since I was left unattended. I told him that I had a Master, that he was there at the party, but he cited the law to me and demanded to know if I was deliberately disobeying him. I told him of course I wasn’t, but my Master had said not to leave the table and I couldn’t disobey my Master. He didn’t care, he just grabbed my shoulder and dragged me off from the banquet.”

When he fell silent, Jenny prompted, “And what happened after that?”

Staring blankly at the table, Nick remembered exactly what had happened and slouched further into the chair. Keeping his voice as even as possible, Nick said softly, “He attacked me in the same private room that my Master had made me feel so good in earlier that night. He beat me, threw me to the ground, and beat me some more. He was, he was going to C-claim me, too, he had my, my pants down, but my Master got there just then. I didn’t really see what happened, because I was just curled up in a ball on the floor, but Master Crane was gone and it was just me and my Master in the room.”

There was a brief silence before Jenny asked gently, “Are you okay to go on, Nick?”

He looked up at her and countered simply, “Would it matter if I wasn’t?”

She flushed. “We can take a break, if you’d like to regain your composure.”

“I’m fine,” Nick said. “I’d rather get this over with.”

“All right. What happened next?”

“I begged for a dagger so I could kill myself to remove the stain from my Master’s honor, but he wouldn’t give me one,” Nick answered.

“Why not?”

“He said it wasn’t my fault, that I had no shame.”

“Did he say whose fault it was?”

At that, Nick went mute and shook his head.

“Nick, you have to answer,” Jenny prodded.

He looked over at Kara, who nodded, clearly as unhappy as he was. He gave Jenny a glare, the most insubordination he could manage, and snapped, “He said it was his own fault. That he shouldn’t have left me alone. Are you satisfied yet?”

Jenny shook her head. “I’m sorry, I know this is distressing for you, Nick, but what happened after that?”

“He Claimed me,” Nick said proudly.

She arched an eyebrow at him and questioned, “You’d almost just been raped, but he Claimed you right there?”

“Because I wanted him to. I wanted to get the filth of Master Crane’s smell and touch off of me and replace it with something good and true,” Nick informed her angrily. “And when he was done, I walked out at his side, nude and happy to be so, wearing only his marks to prove who I belonged to. The Mayor himself apologized to my Master for that man’s behavior and offered his personal sword for the insult done.”

“Were there any words exchanged there?” Jenny asked, inexorable.

Nick nodded and said, “My Master said that this wasn’t just about me, that Master Crane had been harassing the people who worked for him for months, stalking one of the CSI’s under him.”

“There was nothing else said?”

Nick frowned, trying to remember the exact words. “Just that my Master would have preferred a private arena, but that Master Crane had made that impossible.”

The lawyer looked unsatisfied, but nodded her acceptance and said, “Thank you, Nick. I’m sorry to have put you through those terrible memories.”

Looking over at Maria Crane, Nick informed her quietly, “You’re doing the wrong thing here. My Master is a good man who…”

“Nicky.”

Nick shut up at the sharp call of his name and again found no expression on his Master’s face. Contrite, though he didn’t know what he’d done, Nick lowered his head and apologized, “I’m sorry, Ms. Crane, I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn like that.”

“You may go sit by your Master now, if you want, Nick,” Jenny told him.

Wanting to quit the office altogether and go home to be held in their bed, Nick took up position beside Gil once more as the only very inadequate choice. Leaning on his Master again, this time he wrapped his arm around the other man’s leg, shaking as he tried not to give vent to the emotions stirred by recounting the episode with Crane. Immediately, Gil’s hand descended, petting and comforting him.

“Are you ready, Master Grissom?”

“Of course,” Gil answered easily and started talking.

His story matched Nick’s in every respect except for when they parted in the banquet. He gave a list of the people he’d spoken with that night and then continued on to an edited version of what he’d told Nick about trying to find him at the party. It was all truthful, but told without the emotions and personal explanations to fill in the bare facts.

When he was done, Jenny questioned, “And how did you feel about what had been done to your slave, Master Grissom?”

“I was furious, naturally,” Gil replied. “And worried for Nick’s safety. I knew what Master Crane was capable of as he’d raped and tortured the slave of one of my CSI’s only a few months previously.”

Nick flinched at the information, knowing instantly that he was talking about Greg. He’d known that Crane had done something, but…not that and not to Greg! Nick burrowed closer to Gil, pressing his face against the thigh to wipe away the tears that fell. Having come close to that fate himself, Nick could very well imagine what it would be like. And for someone was full of life and joy as Greg to have been put through it was unthinkable.

Gil’s hand stroked his head again, fingers combing through his hair as he continued, “There were several documented cases of personal harassment against me, by Master Crane. I tried a number of times to reason with him, but he was bound and determined to usurp my position and power at any cost. He was provoking me at every turn. Nicky was just the last straw on a very large pile of hay. Ms. Crane, I am sorry for your loss, but there was nothing I could do otherwise. If it hadn’t happened at the Mayor’s party, it would have on another night in front of other witnesses.”

“Thank you for your opinion, Master Grissom,” Jenny said, dry.

A touch to his shoulder warned Nick and he released his Master’s leg, sitting back so that the other man could rise. Standing hurriedly, Nick went into the open arm his Master offered and pressed against him, burying his face against Gil’s shoulder.

“If you have any further questions, you may contact Ms. Walker. If I find out that you’ve tried to discuss anything else with my slave, there will be consequences,” Gil stated, a very thin veil over the menace in his voice.

Nick peeked over at Jenny just in time to see her swallow nervously. He smiled at the display of power and nuzzled Gil’s throat, sighing deeply.

“I believe we have everything we need, thank you for your time, Master Grissom. And you as well, Nick.”

Nick nodded, but didn’t answer, reluctantly moving to the side so they could leave first the conference room and then the office altogether.

It wasn’t until they were in the elevator that Kara said, “If they decide to go through with this asinine suit, which I doubt after that deposition, we’ll be in an excellent position in court. I’d suggest that the two of you head home to recover, but I know you have to get to work. Tell Greg and Warrick I said hello.”

“I will,” Gil promised, taking her hand and kissing it. “Thank you, Kara. You’re wonderful, as always.”

She laughed merrily and replied, “That’s what you pay me for, Master Grissom. Good night, Nick.”

“Night,” he answered, smiling back at her.

Inside the SUV, Nick was surprised to be tugged in for a long, deep kiss, but happily so. He sighed deeply, letting the love roll over and through him, washing away the taint of the memory he’d been forced to relive.

“You did very well, Nicky,” Gil praised, smiling tenderly.

Nick returned the smile shyly and apologized, “I’m sorry for speaking out like that, Master.”

Gil cupped his face, still smiling. “That’s not why I stopped you. Whatever was said in that room was to be recorded. I didn’t want my reluctance for violence to become public knowledge. No, Nicky, you had every right to speak up like that, you were polite and deferential, and that’s all I ask of you. Your thoughts and opinions matter to me.”

Feeling warmed all the way through, Nick leaned back in his seat and buckled in as Gil started the truck.

* * * *

Gil wanted nothing more than to just bring Nick home and curl up with him in bed or in front of the fire, but with Catherine out, he had to be at work. He settled for holding Nick’s hand on the drive to the lab and keeping close on the walk inside. He left Nick in the lab with Greg, where the younger man proceeded to start drawing Nick out again. Satisfied that Greg would take good care of Nick, or maybe that they would take care of each other, he headed for his office.

He met up with Jim on the way, greeting the other man with a grimace. “Don’t even ask.”

Jim frowned and countered, “What happened?”

“I told you not to ask,” Gil sighed. He motioned the other man inside the office and continued, “Nick had to give a deposition about what happened at the Mayor’s party.”

A flicker of shock crossed Jim’s normally guarded expression as he exclaimed, “How did that happen?”

Sitting, Gil sketched a helpless hand in the air and answered, “I have no idea. Kara did her best, but this lawyer Crane has is just as good and, apparently, a lot more devious.”

“Is Nick all right?”

“He was subdued on the way over, but I think he’ll be okay.”

“What now?”

Gil shrugged. “Kara doesn’t think it will go to trial. And I’m sure, if it does, that she’s got a million motions to keep the thing tied up for years. It’s a civil lawsuit, after all, not a criminal one. It’s not something we need to worry about right now.”

“Still.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a few seconds, then Jim held out a few folders and said, “Here’s tonight’s work. Catherine still out?”

“Yeah,” Gil confirmed. “She’ll probably be in tomorrow.”

Nodding, Jim walked to the door, saying, “If you need anything, just let me know.”

Gil half-smiled and answered, “Thanks, Jim. I will.”

“No you won’t, but the offer’s there,” Jim countered, barely smiling, but with real warmth in his dark eyes.

Gil watched him go, then flipped open the folders. A strangulation downtown, a vehicular homicide involving two pedestrian fatalities, and a hotel drowning of a vacationer.

he thought dryly.
Rubbing his eyes, Gil breathed deeply to mentally change gears. He had to leave his home life at home and that included all the crap from the lawsuit, his feelings for Nicky, and the coolness from Sara. In order to do his job properly, he had to be in the right frame of mind, and this wasn’t it.

Unfortunately, even a few minutes later, his thoughts were still jumbled every which way and he growled in frustration. Without thinking about it, Gil stood, grabbing the files and leaving his office. He met up with Sara and Warrick on their way down and held the meeting right there in the hall. “Warrick, I want you to take a drowning down at the Greenlight Hotel. Sara, there was a vehicular homicide involving two pedestrians over on Wilcox and High St. I’ll be working a strangulation at the Belmont. Keep in touch and stay with your cops since we’re spread so thin tonight. Be careful.”

Both nodded seriously and took their assignments without question. Gil harbored the hope that it meant that Sara was getting over the situation and moving on, personally and professionally. They split up and Gil snagged the elevator upstairs to the lab.

He stood in the entryway for a moment, watching as Nick and Greg talked about samples and DNA. Nick looked extremely interested in every word that came out of Greg’s mouth and Gil had to smile. They were good for each other, no doubt about that. Greg could help Nicky become more sure of himself in a way that Gil couldn’t. Then Nick stretched over the table to grab something, a pen, maybe a notebook, and all he could focus on was his slave’s ass, showcased in the snug denim.

Lust shot through Gil and he strode into the room, greeting, “Having fun, boys?”

Nick turned a smile to him, but it faltered on whatever he saw in his Master’s face. The tip of his tongue raced over Nick’s lips as he answered, “Uh, Greg was just showing me some of the things that he does here.”

“Good,” Gil said simply. “Greg, how are you?”

Greg managed to meet his eyes briefly before they flickered back down and that sweet, shy smile hovered as the tech answered, “I’m well, Master Grissom, thank you for asking.”

“I understand congratulations are in order?” Gil continued, enjoying the flush his words provoked.

Nodding, one of Greg’s hands rested on his stomach and he said, “I don’t think it’s happened yet, but we’re working on it.”

Gil smiled and complimented, “I know you’ll be a wonderful parent, Greg. You and Warrick, both.”

“Thank you, Master Grissom.”

“You’re welcome, Greg. Nicky, would you come with me please?”

“Sure,” Nick agreed instantly.

Gil guided his slave to a nearby conference room, one without windows, and locked the door behind them. He didn’t have to say a word as he turned to face the younger man. Nick unzipped his pants and shoved them down, bending over the table for him without prompting. Gil groaned at the sight of him, the pale flesh beckoning. Not quite as pale as usual, given the paces he’d put Nick through the night before, but extremely tempting, nonetheless.

Closing the distance, he rubbed his hand over the exposed skin and then spanked it hard. Nick yelped in surprise, but bit back further sounds as the spanking continued. Gil watched with pleasure as the skin turned even more pink and then red, his hand slapping into the ass with satisfying sounds.

“Please Master, please, I’m sorry, whatever I did, I’m sorry, please stop,” Nick begged, holding fast to the table, clearly fighting with himself not to try and get away.

Gil continued the spanking for a few more minutes, ignoring the pleading. He stopped only to push his own pants down and shove his cock inside his slave. He paused to let them both catch their breaths and then, remembering that he had to go slow because of the previous night’s activities, ground into Nick’s body. Resting his forehead on Nick’s back, Gil reached beneath to find the young man hard and leaking. He grinned fiercely and started stroking him off, ordering, “Just squeeze me, Nicky. Bring me off like this, without me moving. I want to stay buried in you as deep as I can go.”

Nick moaned, but his internal muscles began milking Gil right away. Gil shuddered in response, knowing he was close to the edge. He rocked them back and forth, but didn’t actually pull in and out, just moved around inside Nick.

“Oh Gods, Master, you feel so good,” Nick panted.

Gil gasped and choked on a particularly tight squeeze, and came, flooding his slave’s body with his seed. “Is this what you want, Nicky? You want me to give you life inside you? You hungry for my seed, a slut for it like Greg is for Warrick’s?”

Nick moaned again and begged, “Please, Master, please…”

Leaning up, Gil bit his ear sharply and whispered, “Come, Nicky.”

With a shout, Nick spilled over Gil’s hand and collapsed onto the table, panting and shaking. Gil didn’t move, very comfortable where he was, draped over Nick. Feeling much calmer, he sighed deeply and carefully pulled free of his slave’s body. Glancing down, he was pleased to note no blood, so he hadn’t done any harm with his impromptu lovemaking.

He ran his hand between the slick ass, groping it with a wicked grin. “Nice and red now, Nicky, I like that look on you.”

Nick tried to glare at him as he straightened up, but was too obviously sated for it to work. I t reassure him, though, that Nick knew it had all been for pleasure, that he wasn’t being punished for anything. Gil held his hand out and Nick licked it clear, keeping their eyes locked together as he slowly did so. Swallowing against a dry throat, Gil actually felt a twitch in his cock at the sight. “Clean off the rest of me.”

Nodding, Nick dropped to his knees and licked Gil’s cock and balls clean of seed and sweat. When he was done, he tucked the spent flesh beneath the boxers and zipped up the pants, looking up at Gil with adoration.

Smiling, his heart full to overflowing, Gil bent down and kissed him, showing his own love for this gentle man. Pulling away reluctantly, he said, “I do have to get to work. Would you clean up in here for me?”

“Of course, Master,” Nick agreed, smiling as he stood. “Can I hang out with Greg the rest of the shift?”

“Absolutely. Just try and stay out of trouble.”

Nick gave him a cheeky grin. “Now what kind of trouble could we get into? We’re surrounded by cops.”

“Mmm,” Gil observed doubtfully, but smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

After stealing another kiss, Nick hummed to himself, putting his clothes to right and then looking around for cleaning supplies. Gil watched him from the door for a moment, then shook his head fondly and left.

* * * *

Greg grinned at him as Nick returned to the lab and said, “Did we have fun?”

“Oh yeah,” Nick confirmed dreamily. He leaned on the lab counter beside Greg and asked, “How long have you and Warrick been together?”

“Going on three years now.”

“And you’re happy?”

Greg smiled broadly and rubbed his stomach. “Happiest we’ve ever been.”

Sighing, Nick said, “I can’t even imagine three years from now. I’ve only belonged to Gil for a week and so much has happened already. It feels like I’ve never belonged to anyone else.”

With a laugh, Greg promised, “This hasn’t been a normal week, Nick, trust me. For anyone.”

Now that the subject had been raised, however obliquely, Nick asked, “Um, I heard what Crane did to you. It’s, I’m sure it’s what he had planned for me. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you handle it?”

Greg snorted derisively. “I didn’t. I completely shut down. I don’t think Warrick left my side the entire time I was in the hospital. And even when I was allowed to go home and come back to work, I was never left alone. No one was taking any chances in case, Crane tried again. I had a lot of nightmares. I don’t think my poor Master slept for a month. The shrink said it’s because I repressed most of what he did to me, that it was a healthy coping mechanism. It’s all still there, you know, just, buried deep. I don’t know that I’ll ever remember, but I know I don’t want to. How about you? I should’ve asked before, but you seemed to be okay. Did something happen?”

Shaking his head, Nick answered, “Not really. I just had to talk about it at the deposition today, so it’s a little…fresh.”

Greg’s jaw dropped and he exclaimed, “You had to give a deposition!? How the hell did that happen?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Nick admitted. “The lawyers argued for a long time before Ms. Walker said I should answer the other lawyer’s questions.”

Stunned, Greg sat on his stool. “This is…I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

“Why not?” Nick asked, curious.

“Not for us, personally, because we have honorable masters, but it’s just a step. If your testimony’s allowed, then the next step could be holding slaves responsible for what their masters order them to do. And if that something is illegal, then what happens? The slave’s already a slave. The only punishment left, really, is death.”

“Oh,” Nick murmured, not having thought of that.

“Yeah, oh.”

And even though it was seriously aggravating, Nick knew he’d rather be with his Master through any sort of trouble, than leading a perfectly smooth and ‘normal’ life with anyone else.

* * * *

Warrick frowned when he saw that Nick was still hanging out with Greg. It was after the end of the shift and the two slaves were talking in the break-room. They both looked pretty relaxed, lounging on the sofas, but he saw Nick glance at the clock on the wall and knew the other man was wondering where his Master was.

He just couldn’t see Grissom leaving Nick to his own devices this long without checking in, and that worried him. Taking out his cell phone, Warrick dialed Gil’s number, but got his voicemail. “Hey, Gris, it’s me. Just wondering where you were, man. It’s eight thirty in the a.m. and your boy here is lookin’ for you. Isn’t it past his bedtime? I’ll hang out with him ‘til you get here. Catch ya later.”

By then, Greg and Nick had noticed him and were on their feet. Greg hurried over to him and slid his arms around Warrick, kissing the side of his throat. Warrick grinned and hugged him tight before bussing a noisy kiss on his cheek, causing Greg to laugh. “You behave yourself, or do I have to beat your behind?”

“I behaved myself, but don’t let that stop you,” Greg answered smartly.

Warrick swatted him a good one and was laughing as he said to Nick, “Hey man, I left your errant Master a voice mail. I’m sure he just got tied up at the crime scene and lost track of time. Happens all the time.”

It obviously didn’t really reassure Nick, but he nodded anyhow and agreed, “That’s what I heard.”

“Have you two had anything to eat recently?” Warrick asked.

Nick and Greg gave him simultaneous head shakes and he grinned. “The both of you are bottomless holes, you do know that.”

“Hey, I could already be eating for two,” Greg pointed out virtuously. “I don’t know what Nick’s excuse is.”

Warrick smiled down at him and kissed him sweetly. “You could indeed, baby. Mmm. All right. Stay put. I’ll get some take-out that even Grissom would approve of, to feed you.”

“Oh Gods no, don’t do that!” Greg exclaimed, horrified.

Laughing wickedly, Warrick echoed, “You could already be eating for two. We don’t want our baby to be surrounded by grease now, do we?”

“Oh man!”

“Warrick.”

Warrick looked over at Brass and instantly stopped laughing at the expression on the cop’s face. It was like he’d aged ten years in a single day. Letting Greg go, Warrick strode from the break-room, closing the door behind him to ask, “What happened to Gil?”

“He was…shot,” Brass answered, bleak. “No sign of the shooter. It was a hit.”

“Was it successful?” Warrick demanded harshly.

Shaking his head, Brass explained, “Missed his heart by a fraction. He must’ve moved at the last second. Bullet went all the way through. Massive bleeding and internal injuries, though. He’s on the table right now. Jesus. Why can’t he just catch a break?”

Warrick sighed, knowing exactly how the older man felt. For once, they were definitely on the same page. “You call Cath and Sara yet?”

“No, I wanted to tell you first. Help you with Nick,” Brass replied.

Looking back through the narrow window into the break-room, Warrick could see from Nick’s pale face that he knew something had happened to Gil. He met Jim’s eyes and said, “Call Catherine. Gil left Nick to her in case…well, you know.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, also not wanting to tempt Fate by saying it out loud. “I’ll call her and meet you at the hospital. Minvera’s Hospital downtown.”

“Got it. Thanks, Brass.”

“Just…take care of Nick. Gil loves him and if anything happened to him, self-inflicted or otherwise…”

“Yeah.”

Warrick headed back inside the room to find Greg with his arm around Nick’s waist, both of them anxious and wide-eyed. He wished that he could reassure them, instead saying, “Nick, I’m sorry man, Gil’s been shot. He’s alive, but he’s in surgery and it’s pretty bad.”

Nick’s knees gave out and Greg barely caught him before the other slave hit the floor. Warrick sprinted the remaining distance and helped sit him down on a sofa. He bent Nick so his head was between his knees to help prevent him passing out altogether. He and Greg surrounded Nick from both sides, holding onto him and rubbing his back. “Come on, man, pull it together. You have to be strong, Nick, for Gil. Can you do that?”

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Nick nodded, lip firmly bit between his teeth. “I, I, yeah. Okay. I can…where is he?”

“Minerva’s Hospital downtown,” Warrick answered. “You ready?”

Nick swallowed heavily, but nodded again and confirmed, “As I’ll ever be.”

“Good man,” Warrick said, helping him up.

As they walked to the garage, Warrick couldn’t help thinking that Grissom’s life was like one baby step forward and several giant steps back. He found the love of his life, only to maybe lose his actual life in exchange. Sometimes, Warrick could almost believe in the capriciousness of the Gods that Grissom put his faith in.

* * * *

After the call from Jim, Catherine dressed herself, dressed a whiney Lindsey, grabbed her keys and hopped in the car. On the way to the hospital, she glanced over at her daughter and said, “Lindsey, honey, I know you don’t feel good still, but I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Sensing the seriousness in her mother’s voice, Lindsey nodded.

“Good. Uncle Gil’s been hurt pretty bad. He’s in the hospital,” Catherine said, knowing there was no real way to soften the blow.

Wide-eyed, Lindsey asked, “Will he be okay?”

Catherine sighed. “I don’t know, honey, it’s too soon to tell. Now, when we get to the hospital, I want you to be a big girl and take care of Nicky if he’ll let you, okay? Give him lots of love and hugs, because he’s going to need them.”

“I will,” Lindsey promised.

Smiling, Catherine reached over and cupped her daughter’s chin. “Thank you, honey.”

The drive didn’t take too long, and they were in the hospital only a couple of minutes after that. They were directed to the waiting area outside surgery from the front reception and found Nick and Greg waiting there. Catherine held out her arms and Nick wordlessly went to her, holding on to her tight. He was trembling, but didn’t cry, holding her silently. When she pulled back, she kissed his cheek and said, “He’s going to make it, Nicky, Gil’s a fighter.”

Nick nodded, drawing in a shaky breath before bending down to scoop Lindsey into his arms.

She held on with arms and legs and said, “Mommy said I could take care of you.”

“I’d like that,” Nick replied softly. He held her easily in his arms as he said to Catherine, “Warrick and Detective Brass went back to the c-crime scene and I don’t know where Ms. Sidle is, maybe there with them, too. Um, the doctors were waiting until you arrived to talk about Gil, I guess you’re his Next of Kin?”

Catherine nodded and confirmed, “And he’s mine. But they said he was okay at least?”

Helpless and clearly frustrated, Nick answered, “They wouldn’t tell me anything except that he was out of surgery.”

Angry, Catherine said, “Wait here, Nicky, I’ll get a doctor to tell us what’s going on.”

She half remembered to wave to Greg on her way to find someone. He just gave an understanding smile and waved her on. Catherine stalked to the nurses station and said firmly, “I want to speak with a doctor regarding Master Gil Grissom immediately. I’m Catherine Willows, his Next of Kin.”

The nurse seemed startled by the edge in her voice, but nodded and agreed, “Right away, Ms. Willows.”

It was almost five minutes later that a doctor arrived, an older man in his late fifties with the competent, arrogant air she associated with surgeons who were good at what they did.

“Ms. Willows?”

“That’s me,” she confirmed, holding out her hand.

“I’m Dr. DeGrassi, lead surgeon for Master Grissom’s surgery,” the man introduced.

Catherine looked down the hall and caught Nick’s eyes, motioning him to join them. Nick set Lindsey down and left her with Greg, hurrying to Catherine. Meeting the doctor’s eyes, Catherine said, “This young man joining us is Master Grissom’s favored and only slave, Nick. I can assure you that any disrespect shown to Nick, will upset Master Grissom a great deal. He is to be kept up-to-date with his Master’s condition and accorded every access to him, the same as myself.”

DeGrassi looked less than thrilled, but nodded. “I understand, Ms. Willows.”

Nick arrived just then and asked anxiously, “Is Master Grissom all right? How did the surgery go?”

Putting a good face on his prejudice, DeGrassi smiled briefly at Nick and answered, “Master Grissom will make a full recovery, but it’s going to take time. We repaired the internal injuries and fortunately, no major organs were damaged in the shooting. There was a head injury from where he impacted the curb, but we’re keeping an eye on it to make sure there’s no swelling or blood clots. He was a very, very lucky man. Another 2 centimeters off, and he would have been shot in the heart.”

Nick’s pallor returned to an alarming degree and Catherine grabbed for him, but he waved her off and pulled himself together. “When can I see him?”

“He’s should be out of recovery in another ten minutes, and then there’ll be another half an hour or so to settle him into his room. I’ll see that the nurses inform you when he’s ready to receive visitors,” DeGrassi said.

Nick smiled sincerely and replied, “Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much for saving his life. You don’t know…well…thank you.”

Catherine was pleased to see the hue of embarrassment flush along the doctor’s face and said, “Nicky, why don’t you tell Lindsey and Greg the good news?”

“Oh! Yeah, I will. Thanks, Catherine,” Nick exclaimed, smiling more easily as he hurried back down the hall.

DeGrassi turned his attention to Catherine and informed her, “I’ll keep you apprised of the situation as well. Just leave your contact information at the nurses’ station.”

“I will. Thank you, Doctor,” Catherine replied.

Catherine watched Nick pick Lindsey up again and Greg gave them both a hug. Grinning, Catherine walked over to the small group to join in the happy relief.

* * * *

Nick had been at Gil’s bedside for the last two days, waiting for his Master to wake up. The nurses had fast gotten used to his presence and he did his best to stay as unobtrusive as possible. He ate and washed and slept, he just did it all in Gil’s room. He took to reading from the Italian travel book to his Master, talking about the trip they were going to take.

In the early morning hours of the third day of vigil, Nick got his wish when Gil’s eyes finally fluttered open. Unable to sleep, Nick was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his lover’s hand when it happened. Relief flooded through him and he whispered, “Keep your eyes closed, Master, let me clear them for you.”

Gil closed his eyes and Nick dampened a cloth to wipe them clean, then wiped down the surrounding skin as well, expanding to wash his Master’s face. Setting aside the cloth, he brought Gil’s hand up and kissed the palm, placing it against his face.

The fingers curled over his cheek and chin and Gil rasped, “What happened?”

“You were shot, Master,” Nick reported softly. “And you got a head injury from bumping it into the curb. That was almost three days ago.”

Frowning, Gil cleared his throat and asked, “Did they catch the perp?”

“No. Detective Brass was…beside himself…when I saw him last,” Nick informed him diplomatically.

Gil grinned at that and said, “I bet he was more than that.”

“Maybe a little,” Nick confirmed. He was horrified when the smile was dragged down and tears closed his throat, even though he cleared it a few times.

Sliding his hand around the back of Nick’s neck, Gil tugged him down and ordered gently, “It’s okay, Nicky, come here.”

Nick curled up to his Master’s uninjured side and cried hot, silent tears while Gil rubbed his back, all the more painful for their hard-won release. He’d refused to shed any since hearing the news, determined to be strong. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Ssh, Nicky, it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot,” Gil soothed.

Shaking his head, Nick mumbled against his chest, “You’re the one who was shot.”

Gil kissed his temple and said, “It’s hardest on those who have to watch and wait, my love, always is.”

Sniffling, Nick whispered, “Please don’t get shot again.”

“Oh, Nicky,” Gil murmured helplessly. “I wish I could. But I’m fine now, and what counts is getting better so I can spend all my time in bed with you.”

That prompted a watery chuckle from Nick, who pointed out, “You are in bed with me.”

“Not in the fashion that I’d like to be,” Gil teased, wriggling his eyebrows.

Eyes rolling at the faux-leer, Nick said, “You’re so corny. And I love you so much, Master.”

Gil smiled and kissed him, long and slow. Nick melted into it, savoring the connection and love he could feel from it. When it broke off into small, nibbling kisses and then stopped altogether, Nick sighed deeply and relaxed against Gil with a smile. His Master was right, of course. What mattered was that he was all right and going to recover and they were together.

It was on that happy and very relieved thought that the stress and exhaustion caught up with him and Nick drifted into sleep.
Nick looked over at his Master with a sigh. The other man made a terrible patient, never wanting to be still for more than five minutes, let alone five days. It was like he couldn’t seem to get comfortable, or even relax enough to be comfortable, though they were perfectly safe now. There were two guards on the door until whoever had shot his Master was caught, and they were in an inside room, with no windows.

At the moment, Gil was reading, or at least attempting to do so. Nick knew from the way that the other man’s eyes kept flickering around the room that he’d probably read the same paragraph three times or more.

What can I do to make him feel better? I’m not a doctor so I can’t help him get better faster, and I have no power outside this room, he thought morosely, feeling like a failure.

Then an audacious thought occurred to him and he flushed hotly and started arguing silently with himself.

He’s still recovering! He’s not up for something like that!

 

He’s going out of his mind with boredom!

 

I could hurt him, pull stitches loose and he could bleed to death!

 

Just make sure to do all the work and he’ll be fine!

 

Nick worried his lip between his teeth for a few more minutes before making a decision. It might not be a good decision, but it would at least make his Master feel better, however temporarily. Walking over to the bed, Nick looked at Gil until the other man gave him a curious look. He took a breath and asked in a rush, “How do you feel, Master?”

Gil frowned a little, but answered, “You heard the doctor, Nick, I’m fine. They’re just keeping me in one place to protect me and give me extra recovery time.”

“Well, technically, he said that you were doing better as long as you didn’t strain yourself.”

“See? You were listening. What’s up?”

Biting his lip again, Nick hesitated before climbing up on top of the bed and straddling his Master. “I was thinking that I could do something to, well, make you feel better about being confined.”

An amused expression surfaced on Gil’s face as he put the book on the bedside table, and then removed his glasses to safety as well. His lips twitched into an actual smile as he replied, “Oh you did, did you?”

“Yes,” Nick said firmly.

The smile grew a little and Gil leaned back fully against the pillows, asking, “And what’s that?”

Recognizing a challenge when he heard one, Nick relaxed a little. He hadn’t been sure how his Master would feel about him being the one in control, but now he saw that it was all right. Smiling a bit, Nick slowly undulated over Gil’s groin, enjoying the way his Master’s eyes closed and he groaned softly.

Nick leaned forward and nuzzled Gil’s throat before kissing it lightly. He pressed delicate kisses up the short column and nibbled at his Master’s ear for a few moments, loving how Gil’s breathing quickened at the caress. Turning his attention to the tempting mouth, Nick kissed him as sweetly as he knew how, barely touching his tongue to Gil’s when his Master’s mouth opened to him. It was a hide and seek play with quick flashes of tongue to tongue and deepening and lessening of lips to lips.

His hands moved just as lightly over Gil’s chest, fingers flickering over the nipples still hidden by the hospital gown. After a few minutes of that, Nick pulled back, and happily flushed when Gil started to rise up, coming after him.

“Master, wait. Let me undress you,” Nick whispered against his ear.

Gil nodded, licking his lips, and Nick climbed off the bed. Thankfully, his Master was no longer hooked up to any monitoring equipment, or the nurses would have come running at the increase in his heart rate. It took several minutes to get the older man free of the hated hospital gown, but Nick made a loving game of it, kissing and licking the skin as it was revealed. He was sobered by the extent of bandaging still in place, but forced himself to merely press the gentlest of kisses to the wound.

The gasp he heard at that action wasn’t one of pain, he somehow knew, but of gratitude. Gratitude that he didn’t find the wounded body ugly? That he didn’t think his Master too old and damaged, perhaps? Whatever was going on in his Master’s head was impossible to know, at least from the unreadable expression on his face. Smiling softly, Nick whispered, “You’re still perfect to me, Master. You always will be.”

Gil reached out to cup his face at that, moisture shining in his eyes, though it didn’t fall. Something filled Nick deep inside at that look, and he felt incredibly pleased and happy. He again bent down to pay homage to the testament that his Master had survived what most wouldn’t have, kissing directly over Gil’s heart.

Carefully climbing off the bed, Nick yanked his own clothes off hastily, shucking them aside. Once naked, he returned to his previous position, straddling the semi-hard cock that lay between Gil’s legs. Rocking his ass slowly back and forth, feeling the shaft grow, Nick said, “I love you so much, Master, I want to make you feel so good. I’m going to make you feel so good. My whole body is yours, what do you want me to do?”

Gil licked his lips again and answered hoarsely, “Suck me, Nicky, but don’t make me come, just...”

“Suck you,” Nick finished, nodding, thinking he knew what his Master wanted.

He shifted around and sat sideways, bending down to suck on the rapidly hardening cock. He nursed at it, sucking like a baby would its mother’s tit, constantly and with pressure, but not urgency. His fingers rolled Gil’s balls slowly, then rubbed behind them, thrilling to the moan it provoked.

Gil’s hand squeezed Nick’s ass repeatedly and he pushed back against it, wanting more. The hand left momentarily, then returned to push a finger inside, slick with something. Nick groaned and pulled one of his legs up, resting it on Gil’s hip, to open himself to the invasion. While he continued to suck on Gil’s cock, his Master pushed a second finger in, working him over and stretching him.

“Nicky, enough,” Gil gasped at last.

Pulling off the cock, Nick swallowed a few times, wanting the flesh back in his mouth.

Gil’s eyes clenched shut and he moaned, “Gods.”

Knowing what his Master wanted, Nick straddled Gil and slowly lowered himself onto the hard cock, biting his lip at the burn of stretched muscles, even with spit, pre-come and whatever slickness his Master had used to help. Gil’s hands roughly massaged his chest, pinching and pulling his nipples, adding to the sensation. Finally, he was fully impaled and he groaned, taking a moment to get used to it. Shuddering, he started moving around on the cock, back and forth, up and down, working it in a circle and just grinding down hard on it.

They were both panting again in short order and even though he was dying to come, Nick didn’t touch himself. His hands gripped the bed rails for support as he worked himself up and down on the cock inside him. Surprisingly strong fingers gripped his thighs and Gil urged him on with dirty words and guttural grunts.

“Nicky!” Gil gasped, arching up as he came.

Nick ground down on him, capturing all the seed and straining not to spill any of his own without permission.

Sagging back against his pillows, a sated, contented smile on his face, Gil murmured, “Come here, Nicky.”

Even though he wanted to stay where he was, Nick carefully pulled off the softened shaft inside him and crawled up to lie beside his Master.

One of Gil’s hands brushed through his hair, which had grown already from the buzz cut he’d always sported. Gentle eyes looked at him as Gil whispered, “You’re so good to me. Love you so much, Nicky.”

“Mmm, love you too, Master,” Nick echoed, smiling with all the adoration he felt inside.

He didn’t even mind when Gil fell asleep without letting him come. Not too much, anyhow. Nick closed his own eyes and breathed in the musky scent of his Master’s sweat and sex, and pulled the blankets over them.

*  *  *  *

Greg held very, very still as he fought with the nausea that roiled through his stomach. It was the second day in a row, so he knew what that meant and was very glad about it...except for the actual throwing up part. He was hoping that staying absolutely frozen would help, but then Warrick flopped over in bed and caused it to bounce. Moaning, Greg ran to the bathroom, just making it to the toilet before losing all the contents in his stomach.

Strong hands held his back a few seconds later, one soothing up and down as he continued to dry heave. Gasping, he spit into the porcelain bowl and rested his forehead on the cool seat as Warrick leaned over him to flush the toilet.

“You okay, baby?” Warrick asked softly.

Greg thought about it for a long moment, then straightened up. He held still again, but didn’t feel more than queasy and sighed in relief. Looking over at his Master showed a cautious smile on the black man’s face as Warrick waited for his announcement. “Yeah, I’m okay now.”

Smiling in relief as well, Warrick asked, “Is this what I think it is?”

“Only if you think it’s morning sickness,” Greg quipped.

Warrick whooped with joy and carefully pulled him in for a long hug, saying, “Love you so much, baby, gonna take such good care of both of you, I swear it.”

Nuzzling at the warm skin of his Master’s throat, Greg replied, “I know, Master, I know. Honest.”

Getting to his feet, Warrick helped Greg stand and said, “I’ll call the doctor and see if he can see you this afternoon before shift. Shit. Should you be working?”

Greg laughed a little at the worried look, assuring him, “I’ll be fine. Morning sickness is normal, especially for first time pregnancies, and I can work up to my third trimester, remember?”

“Well yeah, but that’s for other guys,” Warrick answered, frowning. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

It was then that Greg realized that his Master was even more of a worrier than he’d thought and grinned to himself, thinking, This could be fun.

*  *  *  *

Catherine watched as Jim took the lead in the interrogation, willing to take a back seat as long as it got them the information that they needed. It was six days after Gil’s near-miss with death and they’d only just gotten a break in the investigation. Someone had finally come forward to say that they’d not only been there, but had seen something. It was a young man named Stephen Wilks, still in college, and with glasses that were thick enough to be coke bottles, despite the thin lenses people could get these days.

“So you want to tell us what you saw?” Jim questioned, offering the young man a thin smile.

“Well, it was a woman,” Wilks replied. “I couldn’t get a clear look at her face because I was too far away, but she was slender, maybe about five eight or nine and had brown hair.”

Catherine asked, “What about her?”

Wilks shifted in his chair and finally answered, “She just watched. It was like she knew what was going to happen. I saw her look up at the hotel across the street just before the guy was shot.”

Dread clenched Catherine’s stomach as she realized that they already knew of a woman who fit that description at the scene. Meeting Jim’s gaze, she saw her knowledge reflected back in his eyes and the grim expression on his face.

The detective stood and said, “Thanks for your help, Mr. Wilks. I’d like for you to go with the officer outside to write up an official report.”

Nodding, the young man also stood and left the room.

“It can’t be Sara,” Catherine said, the moment the door closed behind the witness.

Turning to her, Jim stated, “She fits the description and has motive. You and I both know that she was pissed when Grissom took Nick as his slave.”

“Then why not kill Nicky?” Catherine pointed out. “Why kill Grissom, when it would mean an end to what she wanted in the first place?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Jim asked, a shark’s smile in place.

*  *  *  *

It was almost a repeat of before, except with Sara in Wilks’ place. Catherine’s stomach had been clenched in knots since earlier that morning, when Jim had come to her and said they’d found a large deposit in Sara’s bank account, twenty-five thousand dollars, seven days ago, two days before the attempted assassination. Catherine had had to call Sara in from a scene on the pretext of needing her help with something at the office. The second the younger woman had stepped through the door, a police ‘escort’ had surrounded her and brought her to the interrogation room.

Hands folded in her lap, Sara asked, “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“We’ve got a witness that saw you look up at the hotel where the shooter took the pot-shot at Gil,” Jim announced. After a pause, he added, “Before the shot was taken. We also have a deposit to your account in the amount of $25,000, two days before the attack. You want to tell us what’s going on?”

Sara blinked at him a few times, then said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

To Catherine, the panic in the other woman’s voice was obvious, but she could see that Jim didn’t hear it from the glare he threw at Sara.

Leaning forward, Jim exclaimed, “What I’m talking about, is that you were in on the attempt to kill Grissom, and I’m going to make sure that you get the death penalty for it!”

Sara shook her head and countered firmly, “I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

“You had motive,” Jim supplied. “We all know how much you hate Grissom, now that he’s put you on a shelf. We have evidence that you were involved, even if you didn’t pull the trigger. Even being on the peripheral of a conspiracy to murder a Master brings the death penalty.”

“Grissom told me no because he’s infatuated with the slave of his, but it isn’t going to last! And I fully planned to be here when he discovered that,” Sara snapped. “Why the hell would I be in on an attempt to kill him, if I still love him?”

“Sara, with a love like that, you put the Black Widow to shame,” Jim growled.

Catherine stepped away from the wall she’d been leaning against and sat beside Sara. Speaking for the first time, she asked softly, “Where did the money come from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you look up at the hotel, before the shot?”

“I don’t remember if I even did!”

“Sara, you’re in so much trouble right now. You have to be honest with me,” Catherine urged, putting her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

Showing real emotion for the first time, Sara’s eyes filled with tears and she whispered, “I am! I didn’t do this, Cath, you have to believe me! I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

And even though she wanted to believe, the evidence told another story.

*  *  *  *

Gil stared at Jim in shock, while Nick burrowed even closer to him, pressing his face to Gil’s throat in distress. “Sara?”

“She claims to be innocent, but the evidence is pretty damning,” Jim confirmed. “We issued a polygraph and she didn’t pass, either. Of course, it can be said that her emotional state at the time could have interfered, but I don’t think so. I think she was the one to tell the killer where and when you were going to be where you were. That’s conspiracy to commit murder and while we might not get the death penalty, she’s at least on her way to convict-slave status.”

“Sara,” Gil repeated, unable to picture it.

“Look, Grissom, just because we’ve got part of the web uncovered, doesn’t mean that you’re safe. The shooter is still out there and whoever hired him or her still wants you dead,” Jim continued.

“I want to talk to her.”

“No chance.”

“Jim, I have the right. I want to see her, face-to-face.”

Jim glowered at him. “It doesn’t matter if you believe her or not. You’re too personally involved with her to see straight.”

“I want to see her,” Gil repeated firmly.

“Master.”

Gil looked down at Nick’s whisper and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine, Nicky, I promise. I just need to see for myself if she’s capable.”

Shaking his head, Nick said, “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“What then?”

Nick bit his lip and asked, “Has anyone looked at, um, Ms. Crane? As, as the one behind the shooting, I mean? From what I was told, the court case could take years. Maybe, well, she didn’t want to wait that long.”

Gil met Jim’s gaze and almost grinned at the irritated expression on the other man’s face. It looked like that was one avenue that had been overlooked.

“Thanks, Nick,” Jim replied, sighing. “And I’m not bringing Sidle in here until I look into this. She’s staying in lockup.”

Making a face at his overprotective friend, Gil said, “Fine. But hurry up, because Crane is just as smart as her father. It’s entirely possible that she set up Sara to distract us.”

Jim grumbled to himself as he left the hospital room.

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil told him, “That was a great suggestion, Nicky, I’m proud of you. What made you think of it?”

Nick shrugged and answered matter-of-factly, “If Mistress Sidle was going to kill someone, it would’ve been me. She loves you too much to hurt you, let alone kill you.”

A cold wave of fear ran through Gil as he realized that Nick was right. Hugging his slave closer, Gil kissed his temple and said, “I’m sorry, Nicky.”

Pulling back a little, frowning, Nick asked, “What for?”

“For not taking her aside earlier and dealing with her in no uncertain terms,” Gil replied. “Once I’m free from the hospital and this mess is cleared up, I will do just that. There is no way that I will allow harm to come to you, not if I can prevent it.”

“I know, Master,” Nick said, smiling.

It took a few minutes for his heart to calm down from the fear-induced adrenaline rush. His chest was tight with tension and he took several deep breaths, focusing on the warm, very alive and unhurt, man in his arms. Nick seemed to sense his mood, as he inevitably did, and lay quiescent in his arms.

“Master?”

“Yes, Nicky?”

“Um...what you said before, about, about ClaimingmeinaTemple. Did you mean it?”

The rush of words took a few moments to decipher, and then a different kind of tension laced through Gil’s body. Lust hardened him almost completely as he thought about taking Nick in a traditional setting and he bit the nearest part of Nick that he could, an exposed earlobe. Nick gasped and Gil answered, “Absolutely. Do you want me to make the arrangements?”

Shivering, Nick nodded wordlessly, pressing his face again to his Master’s throat. Gil’s hand gripped his ass, squeezing it tight, but he didn’t do more than that. Now wasn’t the time, when they were both feeling vulnerable. He couldn’t wait until they were home and he was well enough to Claim Nick properly. There were, unfortunately, two more weeks of rehab to get through before the hospital would consider releasing him.

Gil sighed deeply and whispered in Nick’s ear, “Minerva herself has Blessed us, Nicky. I think we should repay that with special devotion, don’t you?”

Nick moaned in response and curled tighter over Gil’s body, even as he nodded.

*  *  *  *

It took three more careful days of investigation, but Jim finally nailed the bitch. He traced the money from Sara’s account back through a couple of dummy corporations that were, ultimately, Crane holdings. He also brought in the Wilks’ kid and broke him, with pleasure, into giving Crane up on a silver platter. The kid couldn’t say for sure if Sara was really in on it or not, but he had been paid to tell the police the lie of actually seeing Sara at the crime scene.

Looking at the woman staring back at him impassively, Jim wanted nothing more than to take his gun and shoot her in the heart, just as she’d hired someone to do to his best friend. Better yet, he’d love to have a few minutes alone with her and a knife. Shaking off the thoughts, Jim said simply, “We’ve got you. The kid’s already made a formal statement in return for jail time, instead of convict status. We have the money transfers to Sidle’s account. All I want from you, is the name of the assassin, and I might be able to reduce the death penalty to convict status.”

Of all things, Maria Crane smiled at him. “You’ve got nothing. Charge me and I’ll see you in court. I have an excellent lawyer.”

“Do you really think a lawyer of that caliber will defend you in an attempted murder trial? You’re dreaming,” Jim sneered. “You’ll be lucky to get a public defender. All your money and position isn’t going to help you now. You attacked the wrong man.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Crane replied, still smiling. “And it’s up to you to prove that I did.”

Standing, Jim said, “I already have.”

He nodded sharply to the other officer and was surprised when Catherine passed the woman on her way into the interrogation room. Frowning, he asked, “What’s up?”

“I got a call from Sara. She wants to talk,” Catherine answered, a worried look marring her beautiful face. Pained blue eyes met his as she admitted, “I think she wants to confess.”

Things are looking up, Jim thought sarcastically. He’d been holding out the hope that Sara really had been innocent, not wanting to believe that she could be so cold and fool them all so completely. That she could fool him so completely. Out loud, he said, “I’ll bring her in.”

*  *  *  *

“Maria Crane approached me ten days ago,” Sara began, looking down at the table. “She said that she thought there was a mutually beneficial deal to be made. Killing Nick would drive Grissom to his knees, which would satisfy her need for revenge, and I would be there to help pick up the pieces. Gil wasn’t supposed to be hurt at all. I don’t know why the plans were changed, because I never would have supplied the location if I’d known that she was going to kill him, instead of the slave...instead of Nick.”

Betrayal ripped through Catherine at the calm, soft recital of facts. She’d taken Sara in as a friend when the woman had come to Las Vegas to replace Holly. She’d allowed the younger woman in her house and her life, let her take care of Lindsey when Catherine had had the rare date. She’d shared confidences with Sara that she’d never have done with the male members of their team, closer because of their shared sex.

Sara’s dark eyes rose to meet Catherine’s as she apologized, “I’m so sorry, Catherine, you can’t know how sorry I am. At first, I was just so angry at having been rejected by Grissom that I couldn’t see straight. And it was all because of Nick. Well, that’s what I told myself, anyhow. These last few days...alone in jail...I took a long, hard look at myself and hated what I’d become. I betrayed all of you and I think, I think that most of all is going to send me straight to Hades when I’m dead.”

“Tell me more about Crane,” Jim questioned, careful not to lead her with his words.

Sighing sadly as Catherine looked away from her, Sara replied, “She said she knew of someone with no love for Masters in general. A slave who’d somehow managed to get rid of his locator chip and become an assassin. The only jobs he took were ones where he would kill someone’s Master.”

“And this made you think that he’d kill Nick, instead of Gil, how?” Catherine snapped.

Flinching and hunching down, Sara whispered, “I wasn’t thinking. She just said that it was Nick who was the target. That Gil would be safe. That was all I cared about.”

Jim asked, “What about the money?”

With another sigh, Sara answered, “I didn’t want any money, but she insisted. Said that there shouldn’t be any debts between business partners.”

Catherine met Jim’s gaze and saw the fierce triumph on his face. She wanted to be just as happy, but couldn’t, not at the expense of a friendship she’d treasured for three years. Surprising everyone, herself included, “Convict status for your help in putting Maria Crane to death.”

“Catherine, you don’t have the power to offer...” Jim’s words fell silent at her glare.

“Convict status and my ownership are the price you’re going to pay for what you’ve done,” Catherine stated, voice like iron.

No one, not even the D.A. who was present to approve and disapprove any deals, argued.

*  *  *  *

Gil grimaced as he leaned on Nick and they took the short trip from car to house. Greg’s head appeared in a window and he grinned on hearing the young man shout for Warrick from inside.

“I wonder when Warrick’s going to figure out he’s being played,” Nick mused, chuckling.

“I wouldn’t want to be Greg’s ass when he does,” Gil pointed out agreeably. “Still, it should be fun to witness.”

“Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t going to say anything. I’m enjoying the show too much.”

Chuckling as the front door opened, Gil looked up into Warrick’s worried blue-gray eyes and greeted, “Afternoon, Warrick.”

Warrick took up position on Gil’s other side and, between he and Nick, they got Gil to his recliner chair in the living room. It had been a rough two weeks for everyone, finding out about Sara’s involvement in the attempt on his life. Gil had used his release from the hospital as an excuse to have his team, his family really, around him in a way to reinforce the remaining bonds and give everyone a chance to relax. Warrick and Greg both insisted football was good for that, especially on a big screen television, though he had his doubts. Catherine and Lindsey were due to arrive any second and since Jim’s car was in the driveway, he was around somewhere.

Greg and Jim both appeared from the kitchen, bearing bowls of chips and plates of dip, setting everything on the coffee table.

“You look healthy,” Jim observed dryly.

Gil managed a weak glare at his friend, catching his breath from the short walk.

Greg bent down for a quick kiss to Gil’s cheek and said, “Welcome home, Master Grissom.”

Smiling in honest pleasure, at the bold greeting, well, bold for Greg, Gil took the slave’s hand. “Thank you, Greg. How are you feeling?”

And though he hadn’t meant to aid in Warrick’s discovery of his slave’s minor deceit, Gil had to grin at the way Greg squirmed and answered, “I’m feeling very well, Master Grissom. Being pregnant agrees with me.”

“Why you little faker!” Warrick exclaimed, grabbing Greg around the waist and pulling him in tight. He murmured something in Greg’s ear that none of them could hear, but caused a flush and a grin to spread over Greg’s face.

The door opened again and Catherine called out, “Anyone home?”

“Uncle Gil!” Lindsey shrieked, running and stopping short at the chair, clearly unsure what to do next.

Gil held out his arm and she climbed into the recliner with him, her small body resting on him with the same kind of trust he felt from Nick. Smiling, he kissed her cheek and said, “It’s good to see you again, Linds. How’s school?”

Therein followed a two hour football/welcome home party that utterly exhausted Gil. He hadn’t thought the just sitting up could be so tiresome, but it turned out to be the case Both Nick and Lindsey hung on him incessantly, as if they’d formed a pact ahead of time, and the others weren’t far behind. Still, it helped everything feel a lot more normal by the time it was time to leave. Goodbyes were said and Warrick, Greg, and Jim left amidst promises to call the next day.

Gil was seated on the sofa by then, with Catherine beside him. Having seen that they wanted to talk seriously, and guessing the reason why, Nick had absconded with Lindsey into the kitchen to get her help in cleaning up.

“When do you get custody?”

“Next week, after the execution,” Catherine answered, sighing. “To be honest, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, or why.”

Gil gripped her shoulder. “You’re doing what you can to save your friend’s life. It’s admirable.”

“But at the risk of Lindsey?” Catherine asked, worry shining from her blue eyes.

Shaking his head, Gil said, “I honestly believe that Sara just got caught up in her emotions of hurt and betrayal. That she was lashing out at me. She adores Lindsey, and you. She will never do anything to hurt either one of you.”

“Well, to be on the safe side, she’s in chains until I feel I can trust her.”

Eyebrows lifting in surprise, Gil repeated, “Chains?”

Catherine nodded grimly. “Lightweight enough not to cause her any physical discomfort, but she’s not going anywhere unless I’m with her. And I’m sure as hell not letting her loose in the house until I think she can be trusted.”

“What if that’s never?” Gil questioned softly. “How much of this is coming from your feelings of betrayal, of wanting to punish her for hurting me, however accidentally?”

“Accidentally!? Gil, she wanted to kill Nick!” Catherine exclaimed, barely keeping her voice at conversation level.

Nodding sadly, Gil pointed out, “And she’s lost everything because of it; her freedom and our respect and friendships. Catherine, think carefully about how you want to deal with this, how your futures might play out if you start your lives together with Sara in chains. If you can’t see beyond your anger and dark feelings, it would be better to find someone to buy her from you and save all of you the pain.”

Catherine sighed, scrubbing fingers through her hair as she muttered, “I don’t know what to do, Gil.”

“Then don’t do anything for now,” Gil advised. “Take the next week to sort through how you feel. Call me and talk to me as often as you want. Talk to Nick.”

“Nick?” Catherine repeated in surprise.

Rueful, Gil said, “He’s got no problems with Sara. Said that if the tables were turned, he might have done the same thing. And maybe that’s the key. What would you do, what lengths would you go to, if the one you loved, not only didn’t love you in return, but loved someone else?”

“Mom! Nicky said that he’s not going to be my sitter anymore!” Lindsey exclaimed, running into the room and hurtling herself at her mother.

Catherine caught her and hugged her tight. “That’s right, honey. Um...Sara is going to be our slave, starting next week and Nicky’s going to help Greg in the lab, now that Greg’s going to have a baby.”

Frowning mightily, Lindsey asked, “Why’s she a slave now?”

Gil tugged her from Catherine’s arms and said, “Because she accidentally hurt me, Lindsey.”

Lindsey’s eyes widened. “She shot you?”

“No, but she knew something was going to happen and didn’t tell the truth,” Gil explained. “That’s why you always have to tell the truth, no matter how bad you think it might be. Sara didn’t mean for me to get hurt, but I was, so now she’s a slave because she broke the law.”

Lindsey looked between the adults for a long moment, and relaxed when all she got was encouraging smiles from all of them. “Well, she doesn’t braid like Nicky, but I like her, too. I guess it’s okay. Do I, do I have to treat her different?”

Catherine shook her head. “Treat her with respect, like you always have, Linds. I’ll make sure that Sara knows what she can and can’t do. Now come on. You’ve got school in the morning and it’s getting late.”

It was only a few minutes later that Catherine and Lindsey were gone, leaving Nick and Gil alone at last. Once Nick settled on the sofa beside Gil, he smiled gently and pointed out, “I notice you didn’t tell her the whole truth, Master.”

“Well, I didn’t want her to be too confused,” Gil sighed. “Do you mind?”

Shaking his head, Nick stretched out on the couch, resting his head on his Master’s lap. “Nope. I think you did the right thing. Sara’s going to have a big adjustment as it is. Kids can be crueler than adults, especially when you hurt their friends. If you’d told her that Sara had wanted to kill me, it just would have made things that much more difficult for Sara.”

Combing his fingers through Nick’s hair, Gil admitted, “I still don’t know how you can be so calm about the whole situation.”

“Because I know that you’re safe and that we’re going on vacation in three weeks,” Nick replied, a smile teasing his lips.

Gil chuckled and bent down to kiss him, lingering on the soft lips that opened to him. Pulling back, he cupped Nick’s face and whispered, “I love you, Nicky, so much.”

With a brilliant smile, Nick whispered back, “I love you too, Master, more than life.”

Feeling whole and content, Gil sank back against the cushions and smiled as he continued to stroke his fingers through Nick’s hair. Life would calm down now and they could truly start living the life they were meant to live.
The temple room was surprisingly simple, in comparison to the others. There were no gilt adornments on the walls, no altars of gold and platinum, no shelves filled with tithes of precious jewels. The only thing this room held was a plain, marble floor in the center of which lay a sunken tub. The water bubbled and frothed appealingly, steam rising at it hit the cool air. Beside the tub was a plain, wooden table holding various oils in simple clay pots, among other things he couldn’t really make out from so far away. There was a single, marble statue of Diana against the northern wall to match the marble floors.

Nick looked around the nearly empty room, and then at the silent young priestess beside him and entered. Gil had scheduled the ceremony for a week before their departure, six weeks after his shooting and a week after his physical therapist had determined that he was up for ‘that kind of exertion.’  He still blushed, knowing that others knew what they were going to do, but it didn’t make him want to call it off. Just knowing that they would be officially Blessed released a tension that Nick tried to hide as best he could.

It still surprised him, how much faith he had in a set of Gods who were, at their best, described as aloof and uncaring, almost to a one. And that was by their faithful, not the Christians who were still pissed off by the killing of the Son of their supposed God. Despite the fear-based religions, Nick had a special place in his heart for Diana and it made him hopeful that, perhaps, she didn’t bear he and Gil any ill will, despite their mortal souls.

“Are you ready?”

Flushing a little at the young woman’s question, Nick replied, “As I’ll ever be.”

She smiled and motioned him towards the tub. “You must cleanse yourself, inside and out, in preparation for your Devotion. Everything you need, you will find here on the table. The tub’s circulation system is extremely fast, so don’t worry about any waste that you expel, it will be gone almost faster than you can blink.”

“Um, okay,” Nick agreed, looking at the table. There was an enema kit, which he winced at, soap, and massage oils. “How do I get the massage oil, um, all over?”

As impersonal as a doctor, she explained, “Once you’re done cleaning yourself, just tug that cord and I or one of my Sisters will come and assist you in the final preparations.”

Nick waited until she was gone, the door closed behind her, then sighed and muttered, “Enema, huh? My fave. Not.”

But he picked up the kit and proceeded to work the tubes and solutions that would cleanse inside him as surely as the hot water would his skin. He flushed a little as he noticed the shaving apparatus, knowing that he was required to shave as much from himself as he could. He’d been waxed the day before, but just hadn’t been able to bring himself to do that to his balls. It had been bad enough, getting his armpits done. How the women did it, Nick hadn’t a clue. Since Gil hadn’t required it, he’d figured on shaving himself there instead.

Not that putting a sharp razor on his balls was anything more to look forward to.

The stipulated five minutes done, Nick hurried to the tub and hissed as the hot water scalded into his legs. Unable to hold it any longer, Nick let go, groaning when it seemed like his entire intestinal tract was being expelled. Which was, of course, the entire point. He was to be as clean as he possibly could to receive his Master’s essence, a sign of his devotion to the coming union.

That unpleasant business taken care of, and Nick watched to make sure the filth was washed away first, he sank into the heat of the tub and relaxed for a few minutes. Not too long, because he only had a limited amount of time to complete his preparations. Next came the shaving, with a lot of held breath and nervous fingers as the blade curved around his scrotum and shaved the hair along the crease of thighs and groin. That was finally finished and Nick again sank into the tub, feeling very strangely nude.

The last part was a lot more calming, soaping up and washing himself down in the hot water and then just relaxing into the water in a kind of meditation. He thought about all the chaos in his life since becoming Gil’s slave, the love and need of which he’d never even suspected himself capable. He remembered the feel of being Claimed and the times he’d been so tenderly loved that tears had escaped. He forced himself to think of the mind-numbing fear when he hadn’t known if Gil would survive the surgery and the uncertainty when he’d first been bought by a man he’d never before seen.

It was difficult to believe that it had only been less than three months since his purchase, sometimes feeling as if an entire year had been packed into that time, maybe even a lifetime.

A gentle bell signaled his time was nearing an end and Nick sighed deeply, drawing himself up, out of the meditation. Taking one last dunk, he stayed under as long as he could, until his lungs were fit to burst for air, then burst out of the water, gasping for air. Climbing out of the tub, he crossed the room and tugged on the silken cord that hung from the ceiling and waited for the priestess, or her equivalent, to return.

*  *  *  *

Gil’s preparations were similar to Nick’s, up to and including the enema. The only part he lacked was the denuding of hair on his body. There was no real reason given for this, just that it was tradition. The main difference were the incantations spoken over them by the priestesses during the end of the preparation rituals. Once he was clean, massaged with the Blessed oils, as well as adorned in engraved, silver cuffs on his biceps, dressed only in a white silk kilt of sorts that only went mid-thigh, Gil followed the priestess from his preparation room.

They walked through the quiet Temple to the Devotion Chapel. Nick was already there, completely naked and gleaming with oil. Gil’s cock stirred to life at the sight and he smiled briefly, encouraging, when Nick shyly met his gaze. There was no hiding his need for his slave, and that wasn’t the point anyhow. They were here to declare an unbreakable bond, a mutual need, to bring their souls officially together the way their bodies already were on a regular basis.

To declare before all that Nick was his favored slave, the only one to whom he would cleave for the rest of his life.

They both walked forward, meeting in the center of the room by and older woman in High Priestess robes of deep blue and silver, colors of the night sky and moon, of which Diana held reign. Beside her was a small altar, draped in silk and silver, it was over that which Gil would Claim Nick. Upon it at the moment, was a pair of silver, decorative cuffs and chains. The rest of the Devotion Chapel was simply decorated with images and engravings of lovers, Masters and Slaves, and wedded couples.

“We come here today for a Union of soul and body, in the traditions passed down through the ages, from our ancestors,” a priestess intoned. “Master, will you take this slave as yours, protecting and cherishing and guiding him for the rest of your lives?”

Wishing it was time to look into Nick’s eyes so that his slave could see just how sure he was of this, Gil answered without hesitation, “I will.”

“And do you accept his Mastery over every part of your life and soul, obeying his orders and acquiescing to his will for the rest of your lives?”

“I will,” Nick agreed, also without hesitation.

“Then, Master, bind your slave to you.”

Gil took the cuffs and gently encircled Nick’s wrists with them, locking them into place. Nick shivered, gooseflesh breaking out all over his bare skin.

“Claim him, Master, so that all may know to whom he belongs.”

Touching his finger to Nick’s chin, he lifted his slave’s face so that he could kiss Nick, devouring him gently, but thoroughly. Nick whimpered and fell against him, hands gripping Gil’s waist as his mouth opened to the endless kiss. He felt Nick’s cock harden further against his thigh and grinned, pulling back a little to murmur, “Soon enough, my love.”

The difference in this Claiming from all the others was the Blessed oil used to cleanse them both. It would keep this a joining free from pain, for the most part, and protect Nick from being hurt unnecessarily. This was about them becoming one and, while some pain was a given, it was meant to soothe and unite the souls and bodies.

Wrapping his hand around Nick’s cock, Gil stroked it, slow and hard, just the way he knew Nick liked it. Nick’s hands gripped him tighter, nails digging in as he tried to keep himself upright. Seizing his mouth again, this time in a hard, demanding kiss, Gil walked him backwards until his slave was leaning on the altar for balance. Though he didn’t want to let go the connection, Gil ached to be buried inside Nick, bringing them both to their fullest pleasure.

Pulling back, panting, he grinned fiercely at the dazed expression on Nick’s face. Nuzzling at the side of his throat, Gil bit it sharply and said, “That’s my good boy, Nicky, so open and ready for me any time, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master, please!” Nick gasped, arching into the contact.

Gil spun him in place and bent him over, roughly massaging the slick ass and rubbing up and down against it. Nick moaned, his legs spreading wider, and Gil knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Lining himself up, he pushed in slowly, breaching the tight sleeve of flesh that only he knew so intimately. Gil didn’t stop until he was all the way in, balls hanging tight to Nick’s ass. “You feel so good, Nicky, so perfect.”

Nick gasped, his ass clenching in response to the words. Hissing at the provocative action, lust and need surging, Gil pressed the gentlest kiss to the top of Nick’s spine and began moving. He knew that he wasn’t going to last, couldn’t stop himself from the hard, fast rhythm immediately begun. Something was driving him to get as deep into Nick as he could and he did his best to comply.

Hands gripped Nick’s hips with bruising force, pinning him in place as Gil humped almost savagely into him. Nick cried out continuously in pleasure, trying to push back to meet his Master’s thrusts, but held down so that he could only accept them. One of Gil’s arms slid around Nick’s chest and pulled him upright, forcing him deeper on the shaft claiming his flesh.

“Come, my slave, come for me Nicky!” Gil gasped, feeling his own orgasm fast approaching.

Nick’s shout of, “Master!” echoed through the chamber as he came, spilling all over the silk and himself. The love and need in his voice sent Gil over the edge just as surely as the way his body clamped down on Gil’s cock. On one final thrust inside, Gil came, filling Nick copiously even as an explosion of color blinded him and stopped his heart.

They collapsed forward, fortunately, and were caught by the altar, instead of dropping to the floor in an ignominious heap. Gil felt the warmth of something more than their joining pass through him and smiled weakly. Kissing Nick’s shoulder blade, about the only thing he could reach without moving, Gil murmured, “I love you Nicky.”

Nick sighed deeply and replied sleepily, “Love you too, Master.”

Though he wouldn’t have minded staying right where they were for a lot longer, Gil’s legs were starting to cramp and he couldn’t imagine Nick was in much better shape. With a soft sigh of regret, Gil gently withdrew from Nick, ignoring the wordless protest. He found no blood, either on his spent cock or on Nick, and smiled, knowing the oils had done their job. He tugged Nick upright, putting the chained wrists over his head so that Nicky was more comfortable as well as leaning on him.

Smiling beatifically, the Priestess said, “I have only rarely seen such a true Union, Master Grissom. You are, indeed, Blessed.”

Gil kissed Nick’s temple and replied simply, “Yes, I am.”
  Italy was gorgeous, just like Nick knew it would be. He tried not to walk around with his mouth gaping open, but sometimes just couldn’t help himself. The architecture, the ruins, the art, the people, the food…everything was absolutely amazing. More than he’d ever expected, really, and the cherry on top was how much his Master hung upon him no matter where they went. Gil always had a hand on him, usually an arm around his waist or his fingers twined in Nick’s. It was as if being somewhere else, Gil didn’t have to worry about being perceived as being weak by showing how much he loved Nick.

 

Nick couldn’t remember being any happier in his life than since boarding the plane and leaving Las Vegas behind them. Catherine had effectively brought them down from the leftover high from their Temple joining by calling to vent about her first day with Sara as her slave. Nick had wound up with an extremely tense Master for the next three days, despite being on hand at work to calm him through backrubs or just sitting at his feet and resting against his leg. He knew part of the problem was that Gil didn’t quite know what to do with him, now that Catherine didn’t need him for Lindsey any more. That despite having Nick there to comfort him, the fact that Nick was there and not doing something productive bothered Gil’s work ethic.

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 US, and Nick’s mistress hadn’t bothered to let Nick learn Italian. He had to depend on Gil for translations, but that didn’t bother him at all.

 

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 Las Vegas, at the lab, you didn’t want me there,” Nick whispered, hating that his voice shook and his eyes again teared up. “I can’t do anything right and I only want to please you, to make you look good.”

 

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.”

 

Flushing, Nick buried his face against Gil’s throat for a long moment before allowing himself to be coaxed into eating a heavenly fettuccine alfredo, the fork held by Gil. At least it was fairly comfortable, though the constant pressure on his sore ass was an irritant that he could have done without. He was sure that everyone was staring, but when he looked around, the other couples were all engrossed in their own partners, including the two men sitting not three feet away, across the table from them. Tony sat beside Gibbs, but was also being fed by his Master, and staring at Gibbs with adoration.

 

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 Italy, in Naples.”

 

“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 Italy.”

 

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.”

It started so subtly, that Gil didn’t really notice at first. Sound would warble or fade in and out on him, causing him to pause and concentrate on whomever was speaking. It would always fix itself in seconds. Those seconds grew longer so that he was forced to pay attention to it on the flight back from Italy. He’d felt the pressure growing in both ears on the flight to New York, before they’d parted from Jethro and Tony, but it had eased upon landing.

Taking off from La Guardia had brought the pressure back until it there had been almost no sound getting through whatsoever. He had to rely completely on lip reading and knew that he was talking too loud, even as he explained the problem to Nicky. A frightened look had surfaced on the slave’s face, but Gil had assured him that it would be temporary until they landed in Las Vegas.

Unfortunately, on the decent into McCarran Int’l, agony exploded in the right side of his head and he knew that an eardrum had burst. Nick paled when Gil cried out in pain and his hand came away bloody from his ear, but remained calm. He pulled off his t-shirt and held it up to Gil’s ear, putting pressure, even though the blood wasn’t that much, in Gil’s opinion.

A flight attendant came over immediately on landing and asked if they needed an ambulance but Gil answered, “Just a quick exit and a cab to the hospital. It’s my eardrum, it’s burst from the pressure. Nothing life threatening, just…painful.”

So a way was made for them, luggage promised to follow, and they were escorted swiftly through security to the taxi stand outside. Thankfully, it only took minutes to get to the hospital from there and he was seen within an hour. He’d had to lean on Nicky through much of the walking, thanks to his balance being completely off.

The doctor confirmed his diagnosis, adding to it with, “There isn’t anything we can do except treat the sinusitis with massive doses of antibiotics and let the drum heal. Honestly, I can’t even see the inner ear, there infection is so bad.”

“How could he not know that he was sick?” Nick asked, shifting closer to Gil.

The doctor smiled and answered, “Symptoms can be slight, increased nasal congestion, stuffy head, balance problems, but not all at once and not enough to raise an alarm. It often gets dismissed as an increase in allergy suffering. So. For the next few days, you are to remain off your feet and get plenty of rest. I’ve prescribed ibuprofen for the pain as well. You can pick up both prescriptions at the pharmacy on the way out. Call me if you have any problems.”

Nick answered, “We will.”

Giving his slave an amused look, Gil shook hands with the doctor and said, “Thank you.”

It didn’t take long to get his medicine and call for another cab. Once they were home, luggage waiting at the front door, Nick steered him straight into the bedroom and ordered, “Get undressed and lie down. I’m going to get you some juice and toast to take the medicine with. Don’t move.”

Still amused by Nick’s bossiness coming out for only the second time ever, Gil meekly did as he was told. Climbing under the covers, he had to admit that being horizontal for the first time in almost twenty-four hours was more than a relief. As was the comfort of being in his own bed, no matter how nice the pensione suite had been.

Nick returned shortly with juice and toast, sitting calmly by the bed until it had all been consumed, then getting a glass of water for Gil to take his pills with. That taken care of, Nick announced with a smile, “I called Catherine and she said that she knows you’re faking, but things are under control so don’t worry about coming back until you’re ready. She’ll also call Mr. Eckley and tell him that you’re sick.”

“I should find out…” Gil began, only to have Nick press fingers to his lips.

“Master, please, let me take care of you? You don’t know how scared I was when I saw that blood,” Nick said, brushing other hand over the top of Gil’s head. “Just rest and relax and heal, please?”

And of course Gil couldn’t say no to that, so he just sighed and nodded. The caress of Nick’s fingers through his hair was soothing enough that he drifted into sleep without really realizing it.

*  *  *  *

It was almost a week later that Nick drove Gil to the doctor’s office for a check-up and the official okay to return to work. Despite the plentiful distractions that Nick provided, Gil was more than anxious to get back. The vacation was one thing, but being sick was entirely another. Enforced inactivity was one of the things that he hated most.

The wait in the waiting room was interminably long, but finally he was in his doctor’s exam room and being seen by someone he considered both a friend and his doctor, Phillip Whorley. The man had been Gil’s doctor for over a decade and knew his body probably better than Gil did.

“So you went and ignored the warning signs again and instead of coming to me with a stuffy nose, decided to burst an eardrum,” Phillip observed with a grin.

Snorting, Gil replied, “I certainly didn’t plan it.”

“No, of course not,” Phillip agreed. “But next time, just come in before it escalates, would you?”

Gil sighed and nodded and the exam proceeded quickly and thoroughly, as all of Phillip’s exams went. Nick sat off to the side, watching silently, and by the time everything was done, he was yawning. Phillip had taken advantage of the situation to sneak in an entire physical, to which Gil had submitted with ill grace and a glare, but he’d submitted nonetheless. Administration would probably faint dead away to get his physical results early instead of having to hound him for months after the due date.

“I want to schedule you for some X-Rays,” Phillip said, motioning for Gil to get dressed.

Frowning, Gil questioned, “Why is that?”

There was a brief hesitation before the doctor answered, “I don’t like the way your ear looks.”

“What about it?” Gil demanded sharply.

“I think you might have Otosclerosis, like your mother.”

A simple sentence that rocked Gil to the core.

*  *  *  *

Nick waited anxiously in bed for his Master, but figured that it was going to be a long wait, possibly even a futile one. After the doctor had finished talking to them about setting up appointments with specialists and going in for x-rays, Gil had become ominously quiet. Nick hadn’t tried to talk to him on the drive home, giving the other man the space he needed to work through what was clearly a serious blow. He hadn’t been sure what the condition was and hadn’t felt brave enough to ask at the time. Once they’d gotten home, though, Gil had disappeared into his study and Nick had taken the extra laptop into the living room to do some research.

Now, four hours later, Nick knew that his Master was facing the very real possibility of losing his hearing permanently. He hadn’t even known that Gil’s mother had suffered from the same affliction. It had occurred to him during his research, that he really didn’t know anything about his Master’s history. It was an oversight he wanted to correct, but wasn’t sure how to do so without offending the man’s inordinate sense of privacy.

Nick sighed and turned over again, trying to get comfortable in a bed that was far too big without his lover. He wasn’t sure how their life would be affected if Gil went deaf, though losing his job or being kept strictly to administrative duties were both possibilities. He was pretty sure that Gil wouldn’t be allowed into the field without being able to hear, since so much of the job relied on a CSI’s senses and interpretation of what they came across at a crime scene.

The bed dipped and Gil spooned up naked behind him before Nick could even twist around to face him. Settling up flush against him, fitting together in every way, Gil’s lips pressed to Nick’s shoulder. One of his arms slid over Nick’s waist, as he murmured, “Sorry, Nicky. I just, I needed some time to think about the whole thing.”

Nick laced their fingers together and answered, “S’ok, I understand. Are you all right now?”

“Not really,” Gil admitted in a shaky voice. Putting his forehead against Nick’s back, he continued softly, “The one thing I’ve counted on my whole life was being able to use all of my senses. I never thought I took them for granted, especially not my hearing, but I did, and now...”

Bringing his Master’s hand up, Nick kissed the palm and told him, “We’ll get through this, Master, no matter what happens. And, I did some research too. There’s a surgery now that can take care of the problem in many cases. Depending on what the specialist says, I think you should try it. It can’t hurt and it could fix the problem entirely.”

Gil sighed. “I want to just ignore it, hope that it’ll take care of itself.”

Nick hated to hear the other man so vulnerable and defeated and turned so that he could wrap his arms around Gil. Holding him tight, Nick soothed, “It’s going to be okay, Master, you’re going to be fine.”

Warm lips touched his chest, kissing gently over the broad expanse, and Gil replied softly, “I believe it, when you say it like that.”

Shifting restlessly under the kisses, Nick said simply, “That’s because it’s true.”

“Promise?” Gil asked, pale eyes looking up at him.

Nick cupped his face and answered, “Promise.”

A soft noise escaped Gil just before he straddled Nick and took his mouth in a hard, desperate kiss, plundering it with a need that literally took Nick’s breath away. He moaned into it, his hands holding tight to Gil’s hips as the other man knelt upright to sit on him. There was a strange look on the other’s face that Nick couldn’t place, something he hadn’t seen before, and it went beyond hunger and desire. Or, maybe not beyond it, but a...yearning...for a different kind of hunger and desire, perhaps.

“Master?” Nick asked uncertainly.

Gil laced their fingers together again and closed his eyes, rocking gently on Nick’s hardening cock, not answering right away. Nick brought both sets of hands to his mouth, kissing knuckles and the backs of his Master’s hands in turn, not sure what was going on. His body flushed with need, remembering the other time it had found purchase in this man’s body, his cock leaking and smearing against Gil’s ass and thighs.

Shivering visibly, Gil finally groaned, “Need you, Nicky, need you so much. Please...”

Nick’s breath hitched at the chest-deep plea, his hips thrusting up instinctively. He was just aware enough that when Gil rose to his knees and centered himself over Nick’s cock, he was able to pull the unprepared man forward by way of their joined hands. “Master, no, you aren’t ready, I need to stretch you, like before.”

Haunted blue eyes finally opened to meet his and Gil whispered, “Don’t want to be ready, just want you, need you Nicky, need you to...”

The words died off, but Nick somehow knew exactly what his Master needed. His heart suddenly sped up double-pace at the realization and he bit his lip sharply to keep himself in check. Rolling them so that Gil lay beneath him, legs spreading wide in blatant invitation, Nick pulled his hands free to rest on and give himself leverage. Head swimming with what he was about to do, breath harsh and fast in his ears, Nick pushed his cock inside his Master’s body forcefully only to stop at the first cry.

Tears of pain gathered at the corners of Gil’s eyes but he was smiling and ordered lovingly, “Do it Nicky, Claim me, make me yours.”

Groaning in mingled lust and love, Nick shoved himself the rest of the way in, burying himself balls deep in a short, fast drive. Gil cried out loudly, head arching back, exposing his throat in the basest of fashions. Setting up a slow, steady fucking, Nick bent in close to suck and bite at the enticing curve of skin. He rode the willing, pliant body beneath him with a steadily increasing pace, moving harder and grinding in deeper the more his lover gasped and panted, rendered mute by pure sensation.

He rolled them again, thrilling to the startled gasp it provoked from Gil, and licked his lips, commanding harshly, “Ride me slow.”

Gil shuddered violently, gooseflesh breaking out all over, and did as he was told, fucking himself slowly on Nick’s aching cock. Nick watched the sweat form and slide through the thatch of silvery chest hair, the muscles beneath flexing as Gil arched back, resting his hands on Nick’s thighs to support himself. His eyes were closed again, face tight with desire. His cock bobbed and quivered as he rode Nick’s shaft, hard and leaking, echoing the one inside him. The feel of Gil around him was equally as incredible, tighter than before, almost too much pressure even as the inner muscles slowly loosened to let him in deeper and deeper.

It was a heady sight, one that Nick would never get used to, and power flushed through him that it was his doing to bring his Master such pleasure, to be the only one to fill a need that had existed for who knew how long. Without letting himself think about it, Nick slapped Gil hard on the ass, the sound cracking through the room.

“Nicky!” Gil exclaimed, eyes snapping open, dilated and hazy with lust.

That single look was enough to prompt him to more and Nick spanked his lover in hard, even blows, alternating hands to warm up both cheeks. A strangled, desperate noise escaped Gil and he bit his lip hard enough to break the skin, adding blood to the myriad body fluids. It was then Nick realized that the other man wasn’t going to come without permission, the entire encounter in his hands and control. The knowledge alone was enough to almost push him over the edge, but he held back, wanting to draw it out.

Bringing his legs up, planting his heels firmly against the mattress, Nick thrust up hard when Gil pushed down, adding to the force. Gil moaned, moving faster and harder, the friction squeezing Nick’s cock almost to the point of pain and he knew he was too close to last much longer. Pulling Gil down onto his chest and wrapping his arms tight around his lover, Nick rolled them once more and stayed burrowed close. There was barely enough leverage to do more than hump into the tight hole and he gasped, “Come Master, come with me!” just as he couldn’t hold back any more.

Lunging a final time inside, Nick spilled deep and copiously into his lover, biting down on the strong column of Gil’s neck as he did so. The world grayed out more than a little as he came. Nick retained just enough of his senses to feel the splatter of hot semen between them and to hear the rough, low cry of release from his Master, who was pressed up tight against him. Panting, heart thundering against his ribcage, Nick collapsed onto Gil’s chest while his cock continued to spit come in Gil’s hole.

He had no idea how long they lay like that, but when his wits returned fully, the sweat was dry and his ass was chilled from the lowered temperature in the room. Sighing in deep contentment, Nick pushed up on his elbows to find Gil out like a light. With a soft, fond chuckle, Nick slowly inched out of the other man’s body, reluctantly still to leave the hot recesses of his lover’s flesh.

Examining his lax genitals in the dim bedroom lighting, Nick was relieved to find no blood from the unexpected Claiming. His mind tried to shied away from the word, but that was exactly what had happened. Guilt tried to worm its way in, thoughts that he’d taken advantage of his Master’s emotional state intruding, but he banished them as best he could, at least until they could talk about what had happened.

Nick climbed carefully out of bed and padded silently to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water to clean himself off with. He brought it back to the bed, taking a little longer than usual to clean Gil because he didn’t want to wake the other man. Once that was done, Nick tossed the dirty cloth into the bathroom and climbed just as carefully back into bed. Settling in his usual position around his Master, Nick sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

He smiled when Gil murmured in his sleep and tossed a possessive arm over Nick’s shoulder.

*  *  *  *

Gil couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken so sated and so sore at the same time. His ass was positively killing him, especially with sleep having obliterated the leftover endorphin rush of sex to combat the pain, but he felt better than he had since before they’d left Italy. Not wanting to move, he stroked his fingers slowly through Nick’s hair, wondering anew at the incredible versatility of the man sleeping on him.

They’d only been together for a few months and yet Nick knew him better than anyone else alive. Lady Heather had been right, saying that he didn’t want anyone to know him, especially not the heart or depth of him. It had always seemed a weak, shameful place to him, growing more so over the years as he conversely wanted someone to force their way into his heart to know him, and not being able to stand the thought of someone getting so far into him.

Nick sighed in his sleep, shifting a bit and then huffed, falling back into dreaming. Glancing at the clock, he saw that they were long overdue to go into work and knew that he was in no condition to go anyhow. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. There was too much going on in his head for him to put the job first as he was usually able to do. He’d left it with Catherine that if the doctor said he was all right to go in, he and Nick would be there, so at least she wouldn’t be worried. After Nick, she was really the only other person alive who truly understood him, though even with her, that failed on occasion.

Thinking of Catherine, of course, brought Sara to mind and he sighed, knowing that his comfortable mood had been ruined. He was still sure that he should have been able to see that she was so far gone, that he could have done something to stop her from going out of control. The one time he and Catherine had talked about her since his return had been short and clipped, with a simple, “She’s fine and we’re all adjusting.” Which told him exactly nothing, but he wasn’t about to push Catherine on the subject.

Nick mumbled something in his sleep, sounding distressed, as if he sensed the change in mood. Maybe he did. He was so attuned to Gil that it certainly wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Gil smiled fondly at the young man and kissed the top of his head, lightly running his hand over the broad, firm back.

“Master?” Nick murmured through a yawn.

Gil smiled. “The one and only, Nicky. How are you feeling?”

Rubbing at his eyes, Nick blinked owlishly at him and half-grinned. “I should be asking you that.”

“Sore as hell, but really damn good,” Gil replied succinctly, tweaking Nick’s nose. “Why don’t you get the bath ready for me and put in some oils?”

Nick captured his lips in a slow, deep kiss first, then agreed demurely, “Yes, Master.”

Watching his slave scamper off the bed and stride easily to the bathroom, Gil grinned fully and thought, There are much worse things than Nick discovering his more dominant side.

Gil was glad that Nick seemed okay with what they’d done, not having been at his most rational when he’d requested it. They would talk about it in the tub so he could make sure everything was all right, but he was pretty sure things were fine. Nick was submissive by nature, but the inner strength that he’d shown all along had told Gil there was more hiding deep inside. It probably wouldn’t come out on its own, but it was definitely there.

Groaning as he rolled into a sitting position, Gil thought, Fortunately, there are plenty of ways to bring it out, and slowly pushed onto his feet to join his slave in a healing bath.
Warrick tried not to grin as he heard Greg ‘tip-toe’ into bed. It was long past the time when the other man was supposed to be off his feet and in bed and he knew it. Warrick had told him he could stay up reading for another half hour...about an hour and a half ago. He waited until Greg was under the covers and had curled up very carefully over Warrick’s chest to clamp his arms around his slave and ask, “Get everything read?”

Greg groaned. “I’m busted, aren’t I?”

Warrick agreed, “You’re lucky I’m too damn mellow right now to do anything about it.”

“You wouldn’t beat an expectant father, now, would you?” Greg asked, leaning up on Warrick’s chest with a grin big enough to see in the dark.

Sliding his hand down along Greg’s rounded belly, Warrick paused even though he knew it was too early for the baby to be grown enough to kick. His or her little legs were barely as long as his finger; his pinky finger. “No, but there’s other ways to punish you that have nothing to do with touching a hair on your head.”

The smile faded a bit and Greg asked warily, “Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe taking away your internet for a couple of weeks?”

“Master! You wouldn’t!?” Greg demanded, horrified. “Please don’t, I’d go completely nuts if I didn’t have it!”

Chuckling, Warrick kissed him, taking time to map out the already familiar insides of his slave’s mouth. When Greg relaxed against him completely, Warrick pulled back and said softly, “I would never beat you, Greg, not outside of a scene.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Greg muttered, lowering his gaze.

Warrick rubbed his hand over the soft belly and said, “S’ok, Greg, I know you were kidding. Just want to make sure you know it too.”

Startled, Greg pulled away to sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

Not having meant to start this kind of discussion while Greg was hormonal, or ever really, Warrick sighed and sat up as well. Scrubbing fingers through his hair, Warrick finally admitted, “I see you lookin’ wary sometimes, and I just think about...how Nick never looks at Grissom that way. And I know, the situations are completely different, totally day from night, but...if you really trusted me to protect you, you’d lose that look.”

“Master, no, that’s not it,” Greg assured him hastily.

“Then what is it?”

“I...it’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Greg sighed and took his hand, then said, “Let’s get comfortable.”

Seeing the sense of that, especially if it was going to be a long story, Warrick nodded and shoved the pillows against the headboard, then helped Greg to settle between his legs. His slave leaned back and Warrick wrapped his arms around the slighter man’s body, hands resting on the belly.

Resting his head on Warrick’s shoulder, retaking one of his Master’s hands in both of his, Greg said, “I lived a pretty normal life growing up. We didn’t have a lot, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some. We didn’t have to worry about a Collector coming around mid-month to haul us all off. Didn’t have any dealings with the cops, except to see them on the street. Didn’t even interact with slaves, really, because it was a working class neighborhood.”

Warrick kept his mouth firmly shut when Greg paused to consider his words. Despite his tendency to babble, the young man rarely spoke about his life before being a slave. Or even his time as a slave, really, and Warrick had let it slide hoping that one day Greg would feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

“Anyhow. Then there was the drug thing and I got locked up and convicted and sold and bam! Life as I knew it was over. Cops were like Overseers; to be feared. Really, everyone was to be feared, except for another slave. And then I was sold and I learned what fear really was.”

Warrick gently rubbed Greg’s stomach and placed a kiss on the side of his neck, hoping to calm him without words.

Taking a breath, Greg let it out slowly and said, “When Master Grissom found me, I honestly didn’t care if I lived or died. I was actually hoping to die from my injuries before I could get sold to someone worse, though it didn’t seem possible. And then, then there was you and all of a sudden I was safe again. Safe and loved and cared for, which really, I had never felt like that before in my life. I mean, my parents loved me, but, I don’t know. Anyhow. That look you see on my face sometimes? It’s not fear of you, but fear that I could be taken from you. I’ll kill myself first.”

“Oh, Greg, don’t say that. You’ve got another life to look after now and that’s more important than either one of us.”

“But if I get taken from you...”

“You won’t. It ain’t going to happen. Period.” Warrick cut in. He rubbed Greg’s back as the slave shifted sideways in his arms. “We’re going to live to be old and gray and get on each other’s nerves, you hear me?”

Greg half-laughed, half-sobbed, curling up tighter around Warrick. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good. Now come on, let’s get some sleep,” Warrick ordered, kissing his temple.

There was more shifting around until Warrick was spooned up behind Greg, the slave rested his cheek on Warrick’s bicep. Warrick’s other arm lay along Greg’s side and over his hip. It seemed to take a long time before the other man fell asleep, and it was even longer after that until Warrick did the same.
The blindfold was the hardest to take. It wasn’t that Nick didn’t trust his Master, because he did. It was more that he could never tell what the devious man would do next and that made it all the harder for him to control his own body. Since coming through his surgery with flying colors, Gil had been a man of renewed energy. Every part of his life had exploded into overdrive and for the week directly following the recovery, Nick had barely been able to sit, thanks to the constant Claiming and the spankings.

The Claimings had slowed down to only once every couple of days, though Gil kept him busy in other ways. He could now make his Master come in a matter of minutes using just his mouth. Given the other man’s strength of will, that was a feat Nick was very proud of. He could also dress and undress his Master with only his mouth. And just watching his Master take out the crop now stirred his arousal, dropping him to his knees in anticipation. They’d graduated from hand, to crop and Nick had enjoyed every encounter. It was as though something drove Gil to impart these lessons to him on a timetable of which he had no details.

Not that he minded in the least.

“Ready, Nicky?”

Nick cleared his throat and answered clearly, “Ready, Master.”

A faint whistle echoed in the air a split second before fire laced across his ass. Nick yelped in shock, stumbling forward and losing his position completely. Immediately stepping back, Nick apologized, “I’m sorry, Master.”

“It’s all right, Nicky. I didn’t give you much warning,” Gil soothed, kissing his bare shoulder. “I wanted to see your reaction.”

“And?”

“Beautiful, as always.”

Nick flushed happily, took a breath and spreading his legs a bit for a firmer stance. “I’m ready, Master.”

Gil made an approving noise and the whip hurtled through the air again, slicing the opposite way across Nick’s ass. He grunted with the pain, but breathed deeply, knowing that it would go on as long as his Master wished it. And because his Master wished it, so did Nick. By the time it was over, Nick’s body shook with fatigue and endorphins and he felt absolutely high on drugs, even though he’d never taken any.

Rubbing his shoulder, soothing, Gil praised, “So perfect, so good my boy. You did absolutely wonderfully.”

Nick leaned into the other man’s arms, which had wrapped around him, and sighed happily as he asked, “Do we have to stop, Master?”

Chuckling, Gil replied, “We do. I’ve got a lovely star pattern across your ass and I bet you can guess what lies at the center.”

“Will you Claim me now? Please?” Nick begged. “It’ll feel so good. I bet you just slide right into me.”

Voice rougher, Gil bit sharply at his throat and answered, “Not tonight, baby boy. I have something else in mind. I’m going to bring you to the bedroom now.”

Nick went readily, even as his body started to come down from the natural high. When they got to the bedroom, he could barely drag his feet forward, though he did so until Gil told him to stop. He was lain gently over the bed, face first, feet on the floor, and gratefully sank into its comforting softness. While he could hear his Master puttering around the room, Nick didn’t bother to try and nudge off the blindfold to see what was going on. It was therefore a complete surprise when something hard and cool and big pushed inside his ass. It was easily wider around than his Master’s cock. Startled and a little apprehensive at the serious stretch, he questioned, “Master?”

“It’s okay, Nicky, just relax. Let it inside you, baby.”

Nick took a few deep breaths, relaxing as much as he could while the dildo entered his body inch by incredibly long inch. When it finally bottomed out, Nick felt painfully full and panted in short, sharp breaths to try and relax.

“So good, Nicky, so good. That’s it, relax for me. I know it’s uncomfortable, baby, but just take your time and get used to it,” Gil soothed. “You’re doing great.”

It had certainly taken his attention off the throbbing welts left in place by the whip. Moments after the dildo was in place, cold lotion dripped onto his hot ass and was rubbed carefully into the raised flesh. Nick moaned at the multitude of sensations and shifted under the steady touch, unable to take the split-apart feeling anymore. “Master, it’s too much, please, I can’t, I can’t take it all.”

Right away, the dildo was slowly and carefully removed. When it was out, Nick breathed a long sigh of relief and then bit his lip in shame as he apologized, “I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.”

Gil took off the blindfold and immediately cupped his face, kissing him sweetly before saying firmly, “You have nothing to be sorry about, Nick. You did really, really well.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” Nick protested.

Kissing him again, Gil told him, “I’m testing your limits, Nick. There’s no right or wrong here. Just be honest with how you feel and what you can’t do. Promise?”

Relieved, Nick nodded and offered a smile. “Promise.”

“Good. Now let’s get you into bed.”

“Um, I really have to pee first.”

Gil chuckled. “I’m not surprised, having all of that inside you.”

Pushing upright, Nick glanced at the large, flesh-colored dildo and gaped at its size. “You got that inside me?”

“And some day soon, you’ll be able to keep it inside you,” Gil replied, a gleam in his pale eyes.

Nick gulped, giving the silicone cock a wary look on his way to the bathroom.

*  *  *  *

Greg whistled as he walked down the lab hallway, patting his rounded belly now and again. He was officially over the first trimester and back to normal, aside from the weight gain. Warrick had been reluctant to let him go back to work, but he’d begged shamelessly and sucked him off every chance he got. The combination had worked, but barely. As it was, he had to check in with Warrick every two hours or he wouldn’t be allowed to keep going to work.

Catching sight of Nick as the other slave moved gingerly down the hall, Greg’s eyebrows rose at the obvious discomfort. “Yo Nick!”

Nick jumped, then groaned as he turned around. He gave Greg a half-hearted glare and asked, “Could you not do that please?”

Greg smirked. “Someone’s been ridden hard and put away wet. Ah, how I long for the days.”

Instead of joining in, Nick grimaced and sighed as he complained, “Not even, man. I mean, I love my Master, but I don’t know what is going on in his head these days.”

Surprised, Greg looked around the mostly empty hall and decided it wouldn’t be good to talk about whatever it was right there in public. Putting his hand to Nick’s hip, he guided the slave to a supply closet and closed the door.

“Greg, what are we doing here?” Nick questioned, frowning.

Greg put his arms out and assumed a Norwegian accent as he ordered, “Tell Papa Greg what’s troubling you, little Nicky.”

Nick looked at him like he was nuts and demanded, “Are you off your nut?”

Laughing, Greg wagged a finger at him. “If Grissom could hear you now.”

“This is stupid. I’m leaving.”

“Nick, wait,” Greg relented. “I’m sorry. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

Nick sighed, then admitted, “I don’t know. Gil hasn’t Claimed me in over a week, but he’s taken to…ah…he’s got this, well, fixation I guess…”

Greg’s intrigue jumped sevenfold at the hot blush that suffused Nick’s face as the other slave tried to say what Grissom was doing to him.

In a low rush of words, Nick exclaimed, “He keeps putting this huge dildo up my ass and making me keep it in for as long as I can, but he won’t, he won’t you know, fuck me anymore.”

Before Greg could even think of a response, the closet door opened and Grissom himself stood on the other side of it. Greg instantly ducked his head, embarrassed at being caught gossiping by the man himself.

“To what do I owe this little cabal?” Grissom questioned, amusement plain in his voice.

Nick cleared his throat and answered, “Ah, Greg was just talking to me about something private.”

Nice evasion, Greg thought in admiration. Completely true, but also a complete misdirection.

 

Grissom’s eyebrows rose askance, but he only said, “Time to go, Nicky. My meeting’s over.”

As Nick walked carefully down the hall, it suddenly occurred to Greg what Master Grissom was up to. He sighed jealously and muttered, “You lucky dog, you,” before ambling back towards the DNA lab.

*  *  *  *

“That’s it, Nicky, just listen to the sound of my voice and relax.”

Nick sighed deeply again, breathing in and out in meditative rhythms as he let himself sink into the soft cushions. Stretched out on the living room floor, surrounded by aromatherapy candles, eyes closed, body naked and his ass filled with that dildo which had seemed so very big and impossible before, Nick listened.

“There is only me right now. I am the center of your universe when I say…what?”

It was a struggle to make himself answer, “Rollercoaster.”

“Good boy. When I say rollercoaster, you will count backwards from ten and with each number, find yourself in this relaxed, contented state. You’ll remember how you feel right now and return to this place and time. Nothing can hurt you, nothing can upset you, and you’ll follow my direction to the letter.”

Nick nodded dreamily. “Yes, Master.”

“Such a good boy, Nicky. I love you so much. Now, what do you say if you get scared or need to stop what’s going on for any reason?”

That word came easier, since it had been drilled into him far longer. “Crane.”

“Excellent. That’s perfect, Nicky.”

Nick wanted to arch into the hands on his body as his Master caressed his chest in slow, languid strokes, but couldn’t. He’d been told to stay perfectly still. Soft kisses touched his skin and then his hard cock was taken into his Master’s mouth and he moaned, eager for more. It was so hard not to move, but he did so to please his Master. His cock throbbed even more as Gil licked and sucked on it like a piece of candy.

Gentle fingers rolled his balls and then rubbed behind them and he gasped, aching to come. Nick kept a tight rein on himself, though it was so difficult. He wanted to do this right. Wanted to be perfect for his Master.

The suction increased and teeth edged playfully along his length, provoking a cry of need he couldn’t stop. He struggled desperately to stay still, not to move as his balls were massaged and squeezed. Nick managed to keep control even when his Master went all the way down on him, throat enveloping his dick in wet heat. It wasn’t until his Master swallowed rapidly around his cock that Nick lost it and came with a shout of release.

He didn’t, however, move a muscle.

*  *  *  *

Nick groaned and sweated as Gil slowly worked the large dildo into his ass. The young slave was panting softly, straining to take the next size up, now that Gil had adapted him to the first. Three and a half inches in diameter and ten inches in length, it was an inch wider and two inches longer than the first. Gil’s cock throbbed with the need to pull it out and take its place, but he restrained himself ruthlessly. They had another week to get Nick accustomed to the bigger size and then it would be time for the main event.

He’d debated on telling Nick or not, but decided ultimately that telling the slave would only lead to an inordinate amount of stress and worry. Keeping it simply as an odd desire of his own had Nick eager to please, if baffled by the change in their sex life.

When he finally got the silicone cock all the way in, Nick collapsed onto the bed completely, moaning. Gil had left the last dildo inside him overnight, so this actually wasn’t too bad despite the difference in size. “Nicky? Are you all right?”

“If I move, I’ll come,” came the muffled response.

Grinning in delight, Gil deliberated pressed in on the dildo.

“Master!”

He did it again and Nick jerked violently, crying out in wordless pleasure as he arched back in beautiful orgasm, muscles straining. Unable to help himself, Gil shoved his pants partially down and masturbated until he came over Nick’s upturned ass and the fake cock pushed so deep inside his slave.

Panting harshly as he leaned on the bed for support, Gil murmured, “So perfect, baby.”

*  *  *  *

The club parking lot was moderately crowded as Gil pulled into a parking spot outside the respectable looking building just outside the city. Looking like not much more than an average, if expensive seeming restaurant, the club actually housed much darker activities and entertainment for the elite Masters of the city. Run by a stunning woman known only as Lady Heather, though Gil didn’t know if that was an actual or an assumed title, the club had no name and entry was only gained if someone vouched for the petitioner.

Turning to Nicky, who looked curiously at the building before them, Gil said, “I’m introducing you to society tonight, Nicky. What you do in there, reflects on me personally.”

Nick swallowed nervously.

“Do you trust me?” Gil questioned softly.

Nick nodded and answered, “With my life, Master.”

Smiling, Gil promised, “Nothing nearly so dire, baby. Just trust in me and your lessons and everything will be fine. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Gil took a slow, lingering kiss from his slave, leaving Nicky dazed and heavy-lidded. Smiling, he murmured, “Rollercoaster.”

The change was almost instantaneous and incredible to witness. Nick’s eyes closed and his mouth opened, just a little. After the span of ten seconds, those hazel eyes reopened and Gil’s breath caught in his throat at the heat therein. Shivering, Gil leaned in and kissed him again, hungrily this time. It was only the knowledge that people were waiting on them that prompted him to pull back. He growled possessively at the submissive look in Nick’s eyes and ordered, “Out of the car and take off your pants.”

Nick obeyed immediately and Gil took a few seconds to get himself under control. It wouldn’t do to arrived all hot and bothered. Not with the night he had planned for them. Climbing out of the car, he walked around to the other side and found Nick naked, save for the leather chastity belt he’d purchased.

Taking the pants from his slave, he tossed them in the car and said, “Two steps behind me at all times. If someone touches you, it’s all right. Let them. If they try to do more than that, draw my attention respectfully to the situation. Eyes down at all times. You do not speak unless I tell you it is all right to do so. Kneel when I stop to speak to someone. If you need to relieve yourself, or need a quiet moment with just the two of us, tap me twice on the right shoulder. Do you understand your instructions, Nicky?”

“Yes, Master,” Nick murmured respectfully.

Gil smiled. “Good boy. Let’s go inside, then.”

The interior of the club was just as tasteful as the exterior and reminiscent of Rome herself. Opulence was the key word and Gil took in the familiar trappings at a glance just to see if anything had changed. The color scheme was a little more muted, but otherwise, it was the same as the last time he’d visited.

“Master Grissom, there you are!”

Looking over at Lady Heather, resplendent in a form-fitting silk gown that teased in what it hid, and what it showed, Gil smiled and held out a hand. “It’s good to see you again, Lady Heather. You look amazing, as always.”

She smiled brilliantly and kissed his cheek. “And you. Look at you now. I told you all you needed was someone to put all that incredible focus on and you would find out what living really means. You’re practically glowing.”

Gil chuckled. “Thank you.”

“And this must be the famous Nick about whom I’ve heard so much,” she murmured, looked down.

Stepping to the side, Gil let her look her fill and said, “You can pet him, if you like. I’ve been giving him some intense training over the last month.”

“Mmm. So I see.”

Gil watched closely as she gently brushed her palm over Nick’s soft, short hair.

“He is lovely,” she praised. “And so obedient. Maybe you should have Jackie’s job.”

Shaking his head, Gil replied dryly, “I’m fine where I am, thank you, Lady Heather.”

“A pity. Will you be showing him later?”

“I will.”

“Supplies?”

“I’ll need to use your horse.”

“Ooh. I am intrigued. It’s in the gray room, now. Shall we say one hour?”

Gil nodded. “That sounds perfect. I’ll have time to mingle.”

She smiled in return and nodded, before commenting sotto voce, “Not that you enjoy mingling, but at least you’re finally making an effort. Good boy.”

Chuckling, Gil headed for a small cluster of men he knew from his brief time on the local Council. He didn’t look to see how Nick did with his instructions, instead trusting the slave to make him look good. From the covetous glances he received on the way over, Gil knew his trust had not been misplaced.

The hour went by quickly, to Gil’s surprise. He kept a careful eye on Nick as strangers touched and admired him. He had a lively philosophical debate with a visiting professor and talked in depth to a local carpenter who had red ant problems on his homestead. When the time came, he excused himself and headed for the grey room, by way of a restroom. In the privacy of the small, single toileted room, Gil pushed Nick against a wall and kissed him fervently, passionately, and felt his slave’s cock rise to the attention. Smiling caused their teeth to click together and he pulled back to find a pleasant flush all along Nick’s neck and face.

Caressing the young man’s face, Gil told him, “We’re going to do two things tonight that we’ve never done before, Nicky, and I’m giving you the opportunity to say no right now. Do you understand me?”

Nick nodded, some of the heat replaced by a firmer reason.

“The first thing is I’m going to take off the chastity belt and you will walk out there completely nude and hard. People will touch you because they have implicit permission to do so, due to your nudity. Are you comfortable with that?”

Frowning, Nick hesitated a long moment, but then nodded and agreed, “Yes, Master.”

“Good boy,” Gil praised, smiling. “Now, the second will be harder. Have you heard of fisting, Nicky?”

From the sharp intake of breath and shocked widening of his eyes, it was obvious that Nick had.

“We’re going to go out there and I’m going to bend you over a leather cushioned gymnastic horse and I’m going to put my fist inside you. I’m going to fuck you right here in front of those people, with my fist, and make you come. Are you comfortable with that?”

Nick cleared his throat and asked, “Is this, is this really something you want, Master?”

“It is,” Gil told him. “I love having control of you, you know that. I want to show my peers just how much I own you, simply because you’re willing to let me have my way with you. That you love me and wish to give me whatever I want.”

Closing his eyes, Nick didn’t say anything for a long moment and Gil let him think it over. This was a big thing he asked, and he wouldn’t pressure the slave in any way.

Finally, Nick’s eyes opened again and he offered a hesitant smile as he said, “If this is what you want, Master, then I want it too.”

Hissing in a combination of pleasure, gratitude, and arousal, Gil kissed him again, devouring him as fully as possible in the short time they had left. A discreet knock at the door alerted him that all was ready and he pulled back, calling out hoarsely, “We’re almost ready.”

With reverent fingers, he pulled out the golden lock to the chastity belt and unlocked it. Gil carefully pushed the leather down, pulling the dildo gently from Nick’s ass and then setting the apparatus on the nearby table. While the silicone shaft in the chastity belt wasn’t nearly as big as the ones they’d been using, it had been enough to keep Nick slick and nominally ready. Gil stroked his hand along his slave’s dick, making it good and hard, and then stepped back. Staring into now dark eyes, he murmured again, “Rollercoaster.”

Nick’s eyes closed and he sighed deeply, tension visibly leaving him, though his cock remained hard. They opened only slightly, giving Gil such a hot invitation that he seriously had to stop himself from simply bending Nick over the table and Claiming him then and there. Shaking off the need as best he could, Gil turned sharply and walked out of the bathroom.

He heard the excited conversation around them as they headed for the gray room a short distance away, but ignored it. The horse had been adjusted to the right height and he gave Lady Heather a thankful glance before ushering Nick onto the dais. He gently bent Nick into position, his backside facing the crowd that had gathered, slaves, Masters, and Mistresses alike eager to see this new exhibition. Not only had Gil never participated in one before, he’d never even owned a slave. They were all curious, he knew, to see how a reputed abolitionist would have handled acquiring and training a slave.

Rubbing his hand over Nick’s rump, he turned to the table that was mere inches away, selected a latex glove that went to the elbow and pulled it on. Dipping two fingers into the jar of lube, Gil returned to Nick and gently pushed two fingers inside the small, defenseless hole. They went in easily and he twisted and turned them inside, smearing the lube everywhere he could. Re-supplying with more lube, Gil pushed three fingers in and smiled when Nick merely sighed and wiggled his ass, causing an amused wave of chuckles to run through the crowd.

“Good boy,” Gil told him, still smiling.

Four fingers was more difficult and he took his time to twist and turn his hand, keeping an eye on his slave as he opened the young man more fully. Sweat broke out along Nick’s back, but he only grunted a couple of times in discomfort. The training had, it seemed, paid off. Withdrawing his hand, this time he dipped the hole thing in the jar, including his thumb, and rubbed it up over the wrist and forearm.

Gil pushed the four fingers back inside and leaned forward to ask, “You all right, Nicky?”

Nick nodded firmly and replied, “Yes, Master. Please take me.”

Arousal surged through him, but Gil kept to the slow and stead pace as he folded his thumb and introduced his entire hand to Nick’s hole, oh-so-carefully pushing passed the guarding muscle.  A sigh of approval went through the gathered people, but Gil ignored that, too. The sensation of having his entire hand surrounded by Nick was…mind-blowing. He felt their pulses throbbing together, slightly out of synch and had to close his eyes to keep control.

Gil pumped his arm forward and back with the utmost attention to his slave. His eyes burned from lack of blinking as he watched Nick’s back strain and felt he rectal muscles tighten involuntarily around his wrist and then his forearm.

“OhGod…” Nick sighed, shuddering suddenly.

Fierce elation lit through Gil when Nick came so unexpectedly and he deftly fucked his slave with his hand to draw out the sensations. He didn’t go any deeper than the middle of his forearm, exactly the length of the last dildo, but twisted and turned his arm in slow circles. Nick cried out and came again, semen spurting onto the floor. And still, Gil didn’t stop, driven to pull one more orgasm from his slave. Driven to possess him utterly.

Bending forward, he bit Nick’s shoulder hard and then ordered harshly, “Come, Nicky!”

Shouting loudly this time, Nick spasmed back onto his arm, fucking himself on Gil in a dry orgasm. His hole bore down on Gil’s arm painfully tight until Nick simply collapsed, relaxing forward onto the horse in a faint.

Gil cautiously pulled his arm from Nick bit by bit, withdrawing completely with a sigh. It’s just as well he passed out, Gil thought, giddy. I’m in no shape to take care of him right away.

Despite the high that lifted him, Gil did take care of his slave right away. After disposing of the latex glove, he checked Nick for any injury that might’ve occurred during the fisting and breathed a sigh of relief on finding none. Assisted by two of Lady Heather’s larger slaves, he got Nick down from the horse and into the nearest bedroom. It wasn’t until he’d stretched out beside his slave that Gil realized he’d come in his own pants like an undisciplined teenager.

Gil held Nick tight, his slave still out of it and draped over his chest, and thought that it couldn’t get any better.

*  *  *  *

Waking up turned out to be a mistake. Nick groaned as pain instantly assaulted his entire ass without him even moving.

“Nicky? Are you all right, baby?”

Nick opened his eyes and squinted blearily at his master. “I hurt.”

“I know, Nicky. I’ve got a nice hot bath waiting for you and that’ll help,” Gil promised.

“I can’t move, Master, it hurts too much.”

He winced and hoped that didn’t sound so much like a whine to his Master, as it did to him. Even though he really didn’t want to move, Nick allowed himself to be cajoled and helped from the bed to the large, sunken tub in the attached bathroom. Sinking into the bubbling water, Nick hissed as the heat immediately sank into his body. Gil lowered down with him, directly behind him, and in a few minutes, they were both mostly underwater.

Laying back in his Master’s arms, buoyed by the water, Nick slowly relaxed. Letting his head loll to the side, he asked, “Did it turn out how you wanted, Master?”

“Oh yes, Nicky. It was so much more,” Gil replied, nuzzling at his throat. “What about you? Is that something you might want to do again?”

Thinking about the feel of his Master’s arm inside him, their pulses almost completely in synch, Nick had to smile and nod. “I would, Master, but…”

“But?”

“Can we wait for a while? My ass really hurts.”

Gil laughed, a warm, deep belly laugh and then nipped playfully at Nick’s ear as he agreed, “We’ll let you decide the next time we do it, how’s that?”

Smiling in contentment, Nick nodded sleepily and pulled Gil’s arm over his shoulder and curled into it thinking, It just can’t get any better than this.

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