Burning Boundaries

Mari just chuckled and caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. He grinned as he let Mari tow him along in his wake, snaking through the thrashing bodies on the dance floor, down the concrete steps into the lower reaches of the bar. There was another chamber opposite the store room where Jake had earlier been heaving crates. The door to this room stood open, decked with a cartoon poster depicting a Charles Atlas type, in a golden posing pouch, that advertised the club’s impending Best Chest Contest. The music was still audible here, but louder still were the sharp cracks of leather on bare skin and the rhythmic groans of the clientele who had come to the basement for their punishment and pleasure.

The shaven-headed man from the bar was already there, bent over a bench with his leather pants around his knees as an older guy wearing a peaked cap, a black PVC posing pouch and a pair of biker boots swatted his bare arse with a wooden paddle. The hitching post he’d spoken of, an upright affair with two sets of iron rings and a square iron base, was occupied by a muscular, bearded man. He was nude except for a pair of white briefs, and they’d been tugged down at the back to expose his pale cheeks. He was fastened with his wrists together, over his head, and his feet apart, straps around his ankles attached to either end of a fixed wooden spreader bar.  A younger man, with elaborate tattoos all over his powerful upper body and tight black jeans over his lower parts, was swinging a short-handled flail almost lazily at his buttocks, the leather strands striking skin with a rippling sound that nonetheless made the tethered man moan and sigh.

Beside him, Mari uttered kittenish growling noises as he watched the way the stranger flexed and pulled on the restraining bonds each time the lash fell on his bared flesh. Jake made a casual sweep of the room, but he was much more interested in Mari’s reactions than the actual goings on. Mari’s fingers were still wrapped around his and they squeezed tighter at the sounds of flesh being smacked. It was marginally quieter down here but Jake still leaned closer to speak in Mari’s ear.

“So, you’re into all this?” he asked, less teasing and more curious. “How come you didn’t tell me before?”

“You never asked,” Mari said casually. His eyes were still fever-bright as he watched the stranger at the hitching post take another lazy slap of the flail. “And it’s not the sort of thing that you can drop into polite conversation, is it? ‘How’s your mother?’ ‘Oh, she’s fine. She says, when are you going to strap me to the bed and whip me, Jake?’” He waved his free hand toward the post. “Wonder how much something like that costs.”

Jake nearly choked on a sharp bark of laughter, then cleared his throat at the brief disappointed look Mari threw him.

“Do you mean him, or the post?”

“He is rather cute, but where would we keep him?” Mari said, poker faced. Jake wondered if he was getting his own back for Jake laughing at him when he turned back again, openly admiring the inked designs on the Dom’s well-developed torso and powerful arms. As his client came down from the endorphin rush, the young muscle queen was admiring Mari too—rather brazenly, Jake thought.

“Bet he’d win the Best Chest, don’t you?” Mari speculated.

“Maybe I should ask if I can borrow his flogger,” Jake said, with a sudden hot spark of jealousy. He wasn’t sure if he was joking, even as he said it.

For a moment Mari looked as if he might be struggling to breathe. The inked man unfastened his client and began making arrangements for the same time next month, as the satisfied customer pulled his clothes on. Judging by the damp patch in his tighty whities, before he’d pulled his trousers up over them, he’d found the experience stimulating. When Mr. Muscle-n-Tatts headed over toward them, Mari cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

“Hi there. Are you interested in something in particular? Haven’t seen you down here before? What do you like?” the Dom asked, very open, very friendly.

Mari made two unsuccessful attempts to speak and Jake had to nudge him with his elbow, in the end.

At last, his voice gone attractively husky, his lover managed to murmur, “I’ve…um… I’ve never done this professionally before. Does it…hurt?”

“As much or as little as you like. You can handle the paddles and floggers first,” his guide offered. “Get a feel for the weight of them, what you think might feel nice on your skin. That’s what nights like this are all about, educating new clients.”

“It’s…more the bondage that’s new to me,” Mari said, as shyly as Jake had ever heard him speak. “I know what feels good on my skin.”

Jake turned his head trying to get his attention, since this was news to him. Mari was not taking him on, his fascinated gaze remained fixed on the hitching post. The Dom responded with a warm smile. He could have been trying to sell windows or a car instead of an intimate BDSM session.

“You like the idea of being tied up though?” he said in a calm, soothing tone. “A lot of men enjoy that. No need to be shy. We’re all like-minded guys here. Is this your boyfriend?”

Mari nodded, no hesitation. In spite of the surge of jealousy, Jake got a warm glow inside him at that simple admission.

The Dom managed a playful pout. “Shame. He’s very cute though. Lucky boy. Does he want to paddle you? Or just watch and fuck you when I’m done?”

Jake wanted to protest, he really did, but he bit his tongue. It wasn’t that he had a problem with the spanking, or the bondage, or even—to a limited extent—the publicness of the situation, but he wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing another man touch Mari like that. He’d never been a particularly jealous or possessive person, but as he tried to picture Hot Tattoo Guy strapping his Mari up and whipping him, his brain utterly rebelled at the idea. However, he could tell Mari was turned on, and if Jake refused he knew Mari would be disappointed. Worse, he might start to overthink and figure that Jake had him down for a pervert or something.

He tried to catch Mari’s eye but his adorable mate was looking just about anywhere else but at him. Making up his mind, Jake said, “No, if he wants a paddling, I’ll give it to him.”

Mari turned toward him sharply, his bright, aquamarine eyes filled with curiosity. He looked rather startled by Jake’s vehemence.

Their inked host murmured, “Uh-huh…possessive, much!”

“Seriously?” Mari asked him, ignoring the Dom. “You’re up for that? For spanking me, I mean?”

Jake had to fight down the feeling of absurdity that wanted to bubble up as nervous laughter, certain that it would be taken wrong. He wasn’t so sure he should do this. While he wasn’t prudish about exploring kink and he got off on really pushing Mari’s buttons, the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt him. He had never in his life struck a lover—not even Alex, who had pushed him to the limits of provocation—and playful swats were about as far as any physical roughness had gotten. Jake could sort of see the appeal in turning Mari over his knee and slapping his arse as he squirmed there, but using an actual wooden paddle on him was not really in his comfort zone.

He could tell that Mari saw him wavering.

“Um, sure,” he murmured, before Mari could get out one of his patented ‘forget it!’ head tosses.

“I’m not going to push anyone,” their host added quickly, picking up on the tension between them. “That isn’t what we’re about. But if you wanted to explore your options somewhere less public, I can give you my number.” He turned away for a moment toward the wheeled equipment case and produced a card which identified him as Colm Fleming. The company name on his card was The Headmaster Ritual and the backdrop to his details was a soft-focus image of a darkened room with a pair of cuffed wrists and a pale cane in motion. Very artistic, if you liked that kind of thing. “I do photography as well,” Colm offered, with a helpful smile. “Not weddings and stuff, but some portrait work. Mostly abstract.”

“Aren’t you the entrepreneur?” Mari teased, seeming to recover some of his composure, but he took the card with a nod. “Can I have one for Jake as well?”

Colm looked at Jake curiously then back at Mari. “You don’t live together?”

“We’ve not been seeing one another very long. You know how it goes.” Mari smiled but he reached out to snake the fingers of his right hand through Jake’s left as Colm handed them another card.

Jake smiled too. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved that Mari seemed to want to postpone the experiment.

“If you’re not gonna…?” A young guy had come over while they were talking and he looked from Jake and Mari back to Colm, then gestured toward the post.

Mari waved him toward it with a magnanimous gesture but he nodded at Colm. “I’ll ring you. I’d like to talk things over with you, but maybe in a less…hectic environment?”

“Sounds good to me.” Colm grinned at him, then reached for a set of cuffs as the lad was getting his shirt off. “I’d best get cracking here. Pun intended.”

“Yes, you’d better,” Mari agreed, and Jake didn’t miss the way he admired the toned body revealed by the young penitent’s shucking of his shirt. When his gaze moved to Colm’s face again there was a hint of his natural mischief back there. “Thanks for this,” he said, waving the card then tucking it into his pocket as he turned away.

Was that flirting? Was he flirting with the guy? Jake tried to rein those thoughts in but he couldn’t help it. Mari had a habit of flirting, but it had never bugged Jake before. Jesus, they’d managed to go to one bar for an hour and already he was devolving into Neanderthal territory. He realized something else. It had never really bothered him when he and Alex had gone out and his ex had spent all night coming on to strangers. Then again, he’d known Alex was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him. That was not Mari’s way, at all.

“You want another drink?” Jake asked, by way of keeping himself from hauling Mari out of there and grilling him about whether he wanted to sleep with Mr. Whips and Tattoos. They had to step to one side as a sweating, agitated-looking guy pushed by them on the stairs in an obvious hurry to get down to the basement for some chastisement. Though he looked chastised enough already, in Jake’s opinion.

“If you do,” Mari said, then exhaled a huff that might have been regret and might have been relief. “Unless, of course, you just want to put me over your shoulder and carry me out, Mr. Caveman. I wasn’t giving him the come-on. So you can stop looking daggers. And don’t deny it.” He pointed a slender finger at Jake as he opened his mouth. “I could see you thinking it. Yes, he’s very cute, but he’s not really my type. I do like his toy box though.”

Jake snapped his mouth closed then pushed a hand through his hair and let out a sigh of his own. He had always pitied guys that acted like possessive jerks and here he was being as transparent as glass, all but snarling at anyone that got too close to Mari. “I’m sorry. I was aiming not to be obvious. I’ll try and refrain from clubbing you over the head and dragging you out by the hair.” He managed a sheepish grin.

“In that case, it would be my pleasure to have another drink with you, Chivis.” Mari chuckled, slipping a hand around the nape of his neck and towing him in for a brief, firm kiss.

They made their way back up into the bar and were weaving their way through the crowd when Jake heard sounds of panic. Shouting then screaming, coming from the direction of the basement they had recently vacated.

The red and gold lighting seemed to be flickering and Mari yelled, “Can you smell something burning?”

Jake noticed the smell just as Mari was saying it, and turned his head. A curl of pale smoke was winding up from the basement stairway, not thick but noticeable.

“Shit!” He grabbed Mari’s arm. “Get out of here. Hurry.”

Jake gave him a shove toward the front exit then hurried the other way to push through the crowd toward the stairs.