Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (35 page)

Hooch kept his eyes straight ahead, learning quickly how to keep pace on the leash. He didn’t seem to notice the admiring glances towards the two of them, both from men and from women. Matt was stopped soon by other regulars who greeted him and pulled him into a conversation, surprised and glad he was there, what with H never having attended the Christmas ball before. No one addressed Hooch, because here, at the club, he was nothing but Matt’s possession.

A gentle tug on the leash caught Hooch’s attention. “Sit,” said Matt softly, into owner-mode. Matt lowered himself into a low sofa, indicating the soft carpet at his feet.

Hooch obeyed immediately and went down to kneel at Matt’s feet, shoulder touching a leather-clad leg. Kneeling like a large, dangerous cat, tamed by its owner.

Matt reached out a leather gloved hand, stroking the side of Hooch’s head with light fingers, a gentle tug on the leash drawing Hooch even closer. Matt looked up as a pair of legs appeared in front of him.

“Merry Christmas.” Matt recognized MC’s voice. He hadn’t been at the club for a few months, and Matt knew better than to ask. Hooch was far from the only club member who needed discretion above all else. “Is H for use tonight?”

“Not on the stage,” Matt told him. He lifted a glass from a tray. “We’ll see what we do down here later in the evening.” His voice was firm, no promises, and yet all promise, his hand still stroking Hooch’s face and hair. MC nodded and departed.

The club was buzzing, with a lighter, more festive mood than was usual, and Matt put it down to more of the less hard-core members attending for the holidays party. The staff wore red collars, a departure from the usual black, as they circulated with food and drink. There wasn’t a great deal of play going on yet, mainly people arriving and greeting others. Robertson mingled amongst them all, like he very rarely did. Immaculately dressed, his slave demurely at his side, eyes down.

He caught Matt’s eye, nodding acknowledgement, and spared a glance at Hooch, before returning to his conversation, but not before Matt caught a strange, satisfied look on the owner’s face: the triumph of being correct. Odd.

“What a surprise to see you here,” another voice, just off to Matt’s side. It was Tank, a naked but hooded slave on all fours on a very short leash, with whom he had been attending the club in the last three months. The slave was always bound by ropes, every time in different but equally artistic and decidedly painful ways. The elegantly-limbed and smoothly waxed man had a well kept body of indeterminate age, manicured nails, a gym-fit body, and never attended without a full black leather hood that was fixed to the tight locked collar he wore, and which covered his entire face including his eyes. With only holes at the nostrils and a thin breathing tube that indicated the gag he was wearing unless his mouth was in use, no one had ever seen the slave’s face, ensuring utmost discretion. Tank gave the leash a tug and the man knelt down with remarkable grace.

“Good you’re here, I have a gift for you.” Tank made a gesture towards one of the staff, who hurried off.

Matt barely flicked a glance towards the hooded slave, and kept his eyes on Tank. “I’m intrigued.” Leaning back slightly to get a better angle, but not taking away the hand that had been absently caressing Hooch.

Tank watched the caress and his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, but he said nothing. The staff member re-appeared with some lengths of Tank’s shibari ropes, before disappearing once more, never turning his back to either of the men, while not paying any attention to the kneeling bodies.

“May I?” Tank indicated Hooch. “H needs to stand, back to me.”

Matt inclined his head, not even a full nod, as he tugged on the leash. “Up,” he commanded. Hooch rose smoothly to his feet, presenting his back to Tank, cock jutting out at the level of Matt’s face, but he knew better than to hope for relief.

Tank took Hooch’s wrists and began to loop, then pull and knot the wrists tightly together in Hooch’s back. He continued up his lower arms, forcing the elbows together, so that Hooch’s shoulders were forced back, his sculpted chest with its nipple adornments thrust out, and his shoulder blades stayed uncomfortably close together. When Tank finished, he had tied Hooch’s arms together in his back, as if in a sleeve, all the way up to his biceps, making it impossible for him to move or to give himself any relief from the strain.

Hooch hadn’t made a sound throughout the binding, but his cock was now weeping and his chest expanded with his shallow breaths. The knotting was intricate, creating patterns on skin and muscles.

“Does it meet with your approval?” Tank slowly turned Hooch round, three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.

Art in rope and flesh, Hooch’s muscles straining and his body’s honed, hard edges shown off to devastating effect, Matt could do nothing but nod. Tank’s skills and keen eye had never failed to impress Matt in the months that he had been a regular at the club. “Very much so,” Matt said after a pause. “So much so that I think H should thank you for it. Down.” The last word to Hooch, accompanied by a tug on the leash.

Hooch lowered to his knees, then turned to face Tank, shuffling closer to nuzzle his leather clad groin indicating how he knew he was supposed to thank the man.

Tank unzipped and took out his cock, guiding it to Hooch’s lips. He stood with his legs braced, keeping his hand on his own slave’s head, who appeared to be extremely concentrated, as if listening to every sound, lost in his hooded darkness.

Matt flicked a glance at the slave. He’d considered, and then discarded the notion of hoods and such restrictions on Hooch—he wanted Hooch to see, to hear, to sense all that was going on, and, if he wanted to be honest, he wanted to show Hooch off. Hooch; Hooch was his, not some anonymous, shadowy figure.

Hooch applied every skill he’d ever acquired, having only the use of his lips, tongue and throat, he quickly got Tank hard. He proceeded to force himself mercilessly down and open, taking him deep down his throat, as he fucked himself on the cock.

Matt noticed Tank’s reactions, saw how the man was getting closer to the edge. Hooch’s skills never failing, Tank suddenly laced his fingers hard into Hooch’s hair and abruptly pulled him off. Cock dark and hard, glistening in the dim light from saliva and precum.

“Stop.” He snapped his fingers and his own slave immediately reacted, faster than Hooch could move out of the way. Scrabbling to try and blindly find his master’s cock, with his arms bound, painfully bent and up his back, Tank helped guide his hooded slave, before unclipping the mouth shield and pulling out the gag. The greed with which the slave sucked down on Tank’s hard cock surpassed anything Matt had ever seen, and within a few seconds, hands clamped down on the leather-clad head to hold it still while thrusting deeply into his slave, Tank came with a groan. The slave greedily swallowed, his tongue swirling and lapping with obscenely wet noises, as Tank pulled back a little to allow him to clean up the cock he so very obviously craved.

When Tank pulled the slave off, the man spoke, his voice hardly ever heard at any of their outings at the club. A voice that was deep and smooth, a beautiful baritone. “Thank you, Master.” No more, before Tank pushed the gag back in and clipped it securely to the hood, petting the slave’s head.

Hooch had returned to Matt’s feet, kneeling once more, and Matt lifted a glass of water with a straw off a tray that appeared at his elbow, holding it in place for Hooch, who took sips as long as Matt encouraged him to. Matt surveyed the room, before returning to Tank.

“Merry Christmas.” With that Tank turned, tugging sharply on the leash and his slave crawled on all fours, closely at his feet.

Hooch rubbed his face against Matt’s knee, when the water was taken away, then looked at him for a moment, dark eyes full of his peculiar mix of lust and calm. The room was filling up, and there was more than one long look that came their way, but Matt stayed where he was. A gentle hand on Hooch’s shoulder, feeling the tension in the muscles bound in their awkward position. Strained, yes, but Hooch could stand to be restrained for a lot longer.

“Tank told me you are here.” Matt heard the New England accented voice before Eagle stepped into his vision. “I had hoped so, I got you a present.” He was without his personal slave, who was ‘being performed on’ centre stage.

“Present?” Matt asked, surprised to receive a second gift.

“A thank you for all the times I played with H.” Eagle produced a slim, leather bound box, then looked down at Hooch’s cock, and his smile grew. “Perfect. Thought you’d go for a PA sooner or later. Metal and ink suit him.” He opened the box and showed the contents to Matt. A shiny metal wand, medium thickness compared to the heavy ones Eagle had been using on Hooch in the last months, with a short 90-degrees rod screwed on, and screw-on rings on top and side bar. Exquisitely made and certainly expensive. “May I?”

Accustomed enough to Eagle and his preferred game to know what was coming, Matt nodded his permission as Eagle took the wand out of the box.

“He has to stand up.”

Matt gave another tug of the leash, which was all it took to order Hooch to stand up. Unable to look down at himself, due the high collar, Hooch’s breath quickened with anticipation, making his exposed chest visibly expand.

Eagle snapped on latex gloves, positioned himself so that Matt could watch the proceedings, before he bent towards Hooch’s cock and carefully removed the piercing. He unscrewed the side rod, then produced a small, sealed tube of petroleum jelly. He not only lubed the wand itself, but squirted a generous amount straight into Hooch’s slit, and the cool lubricant suddenly inside his cock made Hooch gasp and his body tense. He had a good idea of what was going to come, but his thighs showed a visible tremor, as he braced himself.

“The wand is hollow,” Eagle explained while allowing the weight of the metal rod to slide into the opening and down the urethra. “It can be worn for several days and nights. H can piss through it, and come, if you allow him to.” Eagle held Hooch’s cock in place without forcing the object inside. Always careful, he was known in the club for his skills that avoided damage. Hooch shuddered, his breath speeding up, the deeper the wand slid down. Eagle gave it a few gentle twists to encourage it further, and all the times before that he had played with Hooch’s cock, using his largest wands, made it easier for Hooch to accept this one. Eventually it was all the way inside, and Eagle carefully pushed the side bar through the piercing hole and screwed it in tightly. By the time he was done the wand sat securely inside Hooch’s cock, with metal rings protruding out of the tip of his cock and the piercing hole.

“I think it suits him.” Eagle said to Matt as he stepped back and pulled his gloves off. A female member of staff appeared at his side, took the discarded gloves and handed him a wipe, with which he cleaned the superfluous lube from Hooch’s cock. “Beautiful.” He stated with satisfaction.

Matt couldn’t help but agree with him. “It is indeed,” was all Matt said to Eagle. Hooch was now visibly shuddering with the intrusion, sweat breaking out across his shoulders, but there was nothing he could do, bound as he was.

Matt waited a second more, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth as he stood up. “Very nice indeed,” he commented, standing in front of Hooch. “Bend over,” he ordered, taking a step back so Hooch had sufficient room. “I think we’ll have a special treat.” He took Hooch firmly by his shoulders to keep his face level with his own cock. “Make it slow,” he told Eagle, as the other man realized what Matt intended. “Draw it out. I want him to enjoy it properly, but unable to come.”

Eagle gave a grin, not sparing a glance at his own slave being used up on the stage, as he concentrated on Hooch’s ass instead. He pushed Hooch’s legs apart as far as possible without losing balance completely. Taking his rapidly hardening cock out, he gave himself a couple of strokes to fully harden, then rolled a condom onto his cock and lubed himself up. Discomfort for slaves was one thing, discomfort for himself unacceptable.

Hooch shuddered as he bent low and opened up, feeling the wand deep inside his cock, stimulating with every movement, and the weights in his nipples hanging free, adding to the sensations. He groaned and opened his mouth when Matt pushed his gloved thumb between his lips, sucking and licking at the digit.

Matt unbuttoned his fly with one hand and freed himself, then nudged at Hooch’s lips, to feed him his cook. Sparing a glance at Eagle, meeting the other man’s eye, they both pushed into Hooch at the same time at both ends.

Hooch’s body alternated between trembling and tension, desperate sounds vibrating against Matt’s cock, as he tried to push back to gain more sensations from the cock that was filling his ass, or to push forwards to create greater suction and to take Matt deeper, but he could do neither, held between the two men as if in a vice.

An audience began to gather around the tableaux, but Hooch didn’t care about anyone but the two men, the two cocks, that were filling him front and back, speared between them and whimpering with increasing desperation, as they sped up their strokes, and increased the strengths of their thrusts. His sweat-glistening body could never get enough, and the combination of cock ring and Prince’s Wand made it impossible to come.

Eagle was losing his rhythm, but he caught Matt’s eye, a matter of good manners, guest to host, and waited until Matt’s barely perceptible nod. Only then did he speed up his thrusts until they became erratic, and when he came, it caused Hooch to whine with need, but his cry was muffled by Matt’s cock. Eagle waited barely a second, before withdrawing from Hooch, keeping hold of the condom. A silent staff member appeared at his side to take the used condom and hand a damp cloth to him to clean himself up. Eagle gave him a “Merry Christmas”, before he went back to the stage to take care of his own slave, which Matt barely took notice of.