Tactical Submission: A Windsor Club Story Read online

  There was no answer. He felt time slow as he waited. He wished he could hear a clock. He tried to track time with his pulse but it was speeding up. He kept still. The temptation to look up was strong but Dr. Bard's silence could well be a test. Finally, he heard the clink of a tea cup lifted from the tray, the sound of a sip, and the cup being placed back down. Then Dr. Bard's hand was on his head again guiding it back to his knee. "You haven't done this in fifteen months. Have you had any sexual contact with another person? Even a date?"

  "No, sir."

  Dr. Bard sighed and Jack wondered what was wrong. He knew he wasn't hugely experienced but he was pretty good with the basics and learned quickly. "Let's hold off on the sirs for now, okay?"

  Jack nodded. Sir was usually a good default if he hadn't been given detailed instructions. "Yes, Dr. Bard."

  "How about just Isaac to start? If you weren't into certain things you wouldn't be here, but those things fall under a very wide umbrella and your things might not match up with my things, though I am quite open to negotiation. Now, you are obviously open to kneeling and you seem to enjoy a good petting, I'm worried you're simply touch starved there."

  Jack jerked back at those words.

  "And there would be the first nerve." Isaac said softly.

  He continued to stroke Jack's head. "How about if I ask you a few more questions and you chime in with yours when they come up?"

  Jack nodded but despite the fingers in his hair he was starting to feel uneasy. He had come looking to find someone to shut down the bad neighborhood spinning of his brain, not to talk.

  "What do you want? What are you looking for here tonight?"

  He didn't answer. No one had ever asked, not really. They'd ask for safe words sometimes or if he was clean but he wasn't sure how to answer this. He'd heard Isaac answer cross examinations on the stand and knew he was fiendishly intelligent. He'd left some of the best defense attorneys in town stuttering messes. What was he supposed to say that didn't make him sound like a needy idiot?

  "My brain gets loud. I get tired."

  Stupid! Could you sound any more like a dumb jock?

  "I understand. It's not uncommon for men in positions of authority. Taking orders instead of giving them means you don't have to think for a bit. Let go of the Ego, indulge the Id. Shed the weight of responsibility. Give yourself some peace."

  Peace.

  "Yes."

  "Your knees must be getting tired. Do you think you could sit in the chair now without the urge to run screaming into the night?"

  He hesitated. His knees were sore but not that bad. Certainly, nothing he couldn't handle. Pain was part of it after all. Some discomfort at the start then a chance to move beyond it. And if he stood, Isaac would stop rubbing his head. He'd seen those boys dressed up as leather dogs getting petted. It wasn't his thing but Isaac was right, it was perhaps too long since he'd been touched at all.

  Isaac stood. "How about if we stretch out on the bed?"

  That perked him up. He leaned forward onto all fours but was there for not even a second before he felt Isaac's hand on his upper arm guiding him to his feet. He had a pinched expression as he looked up at Jack but Jack wasn't sure why. He was acutely aware of their height difference.

  Isaac turned away and strode to the bed taking a seat near the head of it, toeing off his shoes as he did. Jack followed but as he got there he wasn't sure what to do. The whole night was proving far more frustrating and confusing than he'd planned. He berated himself for not going back to the Dog Box Bar or maybe Club Steel. Quick, nearly anonymous, and no one asking him to be introspective.

  Isaac patted the bed next to him and he sat. Once there he started to push and pull Jack around until Isaac was propped up against the headboard with Jack stretched out at a diagonal, his head resting on Isaac's thigh. Isaac began carding his fingers through his hair again and Jack sighed into it.

  "Tell me," he began as Jack was feeling himself begin to drift. "Do you enjoy pain when you do this or is it the submission you want?"

  Jack shook his head. Isaac's hand stilled. "Is that a no to the pain or the no to the submission? I'll need a few words here."

  "Everything. I'm okay with it."

  "Being okay is not the same as enjoying."

  The frustration was creeping back into the nice place he'd been drifting to. He wasn't sure what Isaac wanted him to say. He started to sit up but Isaac placed his hand on Jack's forehead.

  "It's okay. I'm sorry. You don't need to think right now. Maybe we'll talk more later. May I touch you? I think you need it."

  Jack nodded, trying to hold back the eager relief. "Yes."

  "Stand up and take off your shirt."

  He unbuttoned his shirt, neatly folded it, and placed it on top of the dresser.

  "Very nice."

  Jack looked down at himself. He tried to keep himself in shape. The job was physically demanding and he felt it was important. He didn't put particular effort into sculpting himself in strange ways though. He looked over Isaac in his black slacks and dark blue shirt. His arousal was obvious. Jack hoped that it was a sign that he'd get what he came for by the end. Things were certainly leaning in that direction.

  "Thank you—" Jack barely managed to bite off the 'sir'.

  "Lay down on your back."

  Jack did. Isaac sat beside him and began sliding his fingers around the edges of his muscles. "Pre-med anatomy would have been so much more fun if I'd had a body like yours available as a learning tool. External oblique, internal oblique, transverse abdominal."

  Jack pressed his body up into the touch. It wasn't exactly what he had been looking for but it felt nice. The faint tickle and occasional scratch from a blunt nail. One of those nails scratched along his right nipple. It wasn't even enough to cause pain but he still jumped. It was like a sharp static shock had been sent directly down his spine. He'd been turned on for some time, once the initial panic wore off, but the arousal went from background noise to nearly painful with that single small touch. Normally it took a crop or lash to send a feeling like that through him. Isaac did it again, and again used hardly more than the lightest touch, but he whimpered.

  "May I take off the rest of your clothes?" Jack nodded and reached for his fly but Isaac pushed his hands away. "I'll do it."

  He bit his lip but kept his hands at his side while Isaac efficiently undressed him, dropping his pants at the side of the bed. Then he went back to touching Jack. He ran his hands up and down Jack's body in broad flat strokes, avoiding his cock and even his nipples, occasionally naming muscle groups as he did. He tried to raise his body into the touch. His head was spinning and his breath was hard and fast. He knew he was on the verge of cumming without even having his cock touched. Then Isaac stopped and Jack recognized the pathetic whimper that filled the room as his own.

  "Even if we never do this again don't let yourself go this long without being touched. It's not healthy, and a body like yours is made for it. So responsive. Keep your eyes closed and feel this." Then Isaac's hand was on his cock and he felt like he was burning. His strokes were slow and even, strong yet teasing. Jack pressed his hips up trying to fuck Isaac's hand but Isaac kept his rhythm steady.

  When he felt on the verge of going mad two words managed to fight their way through the fog of his mind and fall from his lips. "Please, sir."

  Isaac switched his strokes to hard and fast and within five seconds a wave of fire raced its way up his spine and exploded behind his eyes.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Isaac aimed Jack's cock so he came across his own stomach. It looked lovely and obscene. He frowned as Jack's body went limp. He didn't completely pass out but he looked close to it. There was so much wrong with the situation yet there was so much potential for it to be amazingly right. Denying himself for so long was certainly a sign of a tangled-up head and there were obvious issues. Nothing Isaac hadn't encountered before. He had a fondness for large strong subs. It was rare they didn't come to him weighed down wi
th preconceptions about what people should be and should want. Being a five foot seven Dom had gotten him slapped with the word 'should' more than once as well. He hated the word should.

  Jack had also started to crawl. He found that to be the fingerprints of an amateur or an undeserved ego. Not on Jack's part but on the part of whomever he'd hooked up with in the past. But then Isaac had been told on more than one occasion that he was a snob about those sorts of things. The fact that he couldn't seem to sort out the difference between pain and submission, or even what he truly wanted reeked of quick encounters with people who didn't care enough or possibly at all.

  But then there was the glorious opportunity. He had much the same problem as Jack when it came to a long-term arrangement with a dedicated partner. Working for the Coroner's Office meant he got called in at weird hours if something major happened. He couldn't talk about much of his work since it was often tied up in investigations, and he came home smelling of death, latex, and hand sanitizer. There were not many subs that would put up with that on a regular basis. Throw in being married and there was the opportunity for total disaster, which had in fact happened in the past. But Jack was law enforcement. He understood what being on call meant and that a good shower could get the smell of a bad day off your skin, but sometimes it required something more creative to get it out of your head.

  Jack began to come back to himself. Isaac brushed a finger over his lips. They were dry but full from lust. He opened his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

  "Thank you for letting me do that. You are quite impressive." Jack glanced away. "I think we need to talk some more, but not tonight. Tonight, you need to rest." He combed his fingers through Jack's hair. His eyes began to shut again.

  "Yes, sir."

  Chapter 2

  It was close to four in the morning when Amalie crawled into bed next to Isaac. He'd been home since one. He’d let Jack sleep, and dozed himself before cleaning him up and sending him on his way. He didn't make Jack answer any more questions but did talk him into another night at the Windsor Club the next weekend. Isaac really hoped he kept the date and didn't have some sort of freak out.

  "How was your night?" Isaac mumbled still half asleep.

  "It was good."

  He could smell a sweet floral scent on his wife. "Lydia changed perfumes again."

  "You've got a good nose." She gave him a light kiss. "How was your night?"

  "Interesting. We should talk."

  "That interesting?"

  "In the morning." He wrapped his arms around Amalie's waist and pulled her close. "Sleep now."

  "Definitely sleep now."

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Amalie slept until almost noon on Sunday giving Isaac plenty of time to stare blankly at a paper on capillary disruptions and think about Jack. The more he considered it the more Jack seemed ideal, as long as their proclivities roughly lined up. He had reasonably broad tastes, though medical school had thoroughly put him off some. Jack didn't seem to know what his tastes were. That itself could be fun, if Jack was willing. And there was the lure of having someone regular. Isaac had long since admitted to himself that he got twitchy if he didn't let his dominant side out for a run regularly. Amalie called it being his whole self.

  He heard her stirring upstairs and flipped the coffeepot back on. Neither of them had gotten over their university days’ caffeine habit and felt no reason to. They both refused however to embrace the weird, hyper-sugared, chemically questionable energy drinks the kids chugged these days. There was nothing wrong with good old C8H10N4O2 as far as he was concerned. Amelie stumbled into the kitchen in a worn green bathrobe. He handed her a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. She sat down and leaned over her cup, her dark hair falling around her face, hiding it. She was about halfway down the cup when she finally gave Isaac a good look. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

  "Jack Burnside."

  She looked up at the ceiling, her face twisting up in thought. "Should I know that name?"

  "No, but I do. He's a SWAT team leader. Big guy. Ten feet tall, built like a brick wall."

  "Right, SWAT." She turned her focus back toward her coffee.

  "We've crossed paths in court a few times, anyway I ran into him at The Windsor last night."

  "Really?"

  "Yep. And he wasn't sitting on my side of the room."

  "Really?" Amelie was aware of his broader tastes just as he was of hers. "So, you had a good night."

  "I had an interesting night. When he recognized me he went into shock, and I'm not exaggerating here. I got him into a private room, pulse too fast, dead pale, I didn't have my kit with me but I'll bet anything his blood pressure was through the floor."

  "Closet case panic."

  "Big time. And yet—"

  Amelie grinned. "Now here's where things get interesting."

  "I don't know where he's been or who he's been with, but I'll bet anything it's a list of amateurs and assholes. He isn't even entirely sure what he likes, total mess but—"

  "Is it a nice butt?" Amelie interrupted.

  "It is a very nice butt. But the two of us have similar problems when it comes to finding someone more long term, job, schedule."

  "You found a stray and you want to bring him home."

  "I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind pretty quick."

  "You know that's how we got this fur ball." Amelie pointed to Murrcat, their once half-starved kitten, now a fifteen-pound ball of fluff and fangs, who jumped up on the kitchen table and tried to lick butter off the uneaten toast. Amelie rescued her toast and shooed the cat back to the floor.

  "You love Murrcat and you know it."

  Her face became serious. "I understand where you're coming from. You know I do. You do have a history of rushing into things. And out of them. And there aren't many who can handle our life."

  Isaac nodded. He still felt twists of both anger and shame remembering his last long term relationship with a sub. He and Ricky had not ended well to say the least. He and Amelie weren't even married yet at the time, and Isaac hit a bad patch that left him deeply questioning which direction his life should take. He tried not to let himself dwell on it too long. "I know. However, that was almost eight years ago, now. I like to think I'm older, wiser, and have learned from my mistakes. Also, Jack is completely different from Ricky and my life is different now as well. Despite the job, I'm much more settled. I think?"

  "You are."

  He looked into his own coffee. He'd had other repeat subs over the last eight years, some lasting multiple months, but none he'd considered taking home. He'd always kept them separate from the rest of his life. "When I asked him if he had any question for me, the very first thing he did was ask about this?" Isaac held up his hand with his wedding ring. "The vast majority of the boys don't. There's honesty in him."

  "That in itself could be a problem."

  "I know. Truthfully, I'm probably getting ahead of myself. We agreed to meet next week. Talk when he was not having a panic attack. He might not even show up. I just wanted to keep you in the loop."

  "I'll consider myself looped in."

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  There wasn't an inch of Jack's apartment that didn't sparkle. He wasn't sure if it was left over from his army days but he did his best thinking while cleaning, and he had quantities of thinking to do.

  His first thought, the big one that hit him as soon as he woke, was that Isaac hadn't cum. He'd noticed the obvious bulge in Isaac's pants, but he hadn't once moved to touch himself or have Jack do it. He hadn't even taken his pants off. Instead he petted Jack until he came all over himself.

  He had nearly passed out from that simple petting and all other thoughts had been burned from his mind, which was what he'd been looking for. He wondered if he should have asked or offered. If Isaac was expecting that, if it was some kind of a test, but it had slipped his mind after Isaac had stroked his head until he fell asleep. Maybe Isaac went home and had his wife take care of it? If th
at was his thing. Get turned on by some guy then go back home to his marriage bed.

  Jack aggressively scrubbed the grout around the base of his toilet.

  And then there were all the questions Isaac asked. He knew he should have better answers for them. What did he like, what did he want? Did Isaac even want to do the things he liked? The whole evening, he hadn't made a single gesture that could be considered aggressive or even physically strong. He had only talked, only made polite requests. He didn't even want to be called sir.

  But you obeyed, Jack thought.

  Yes, he had. Isaac had told him to kneel and he had, and it felt good. If he hadn't been mid panic, he would have quite possibly cum only from those words. And he had cum, eventually, with nothing more than the soft touch of hands on his body. It had been too long. Way too long.

  And Isaac had asked him to come back and he had agreed. Without a thought, he had agreed. And he was pretty sure he would go back. He'd woken up with killer morning wood and the memories of hands caressing his body making it that much worse. He knew if he went back though, there would be questions again and this time Isaac would want answers, answers to questions he barely understood.

  He stopped scrubbing. Any more and the grout would start coming up, and his building manager wasn't much of one for the little bits of maintenance. As long as it wasn't flooding or on fire, he didn't particularly care. He leaned back on his knees which only brought back memories of the previous night. He grit his teeth as his dick began to get hard.

  Maybe it's time for a run.

  Chapter 3

  The rhythmic clink of the weights gave Jack something to focus on. They weren't loaded up overly heavy. It was bad form to get called out and be too tired to lift your weapon. Still, he'd spent the weekend scrubbing his apartment, running more than he had since Basic, and trying not to masturbate like a teenager. Now he was hoping to space out on the weight machine. He might be confused, distracted, and sexually frustrated but at least he was going to be in great shape at this pace.