One of the definitions of torture is: to twist or wrench out of shape : distort, warp.

This is an excellent description of what I have been doing during this series. And probably to my poor readers.

By Margaret Price


The room was cold.

No, not so much cold as chilly.

Why would this be in the middle of summer?

These fuzzy, slightly disconnected thoughts invaded first. Then a slow realization that something was very seriously amiss, such as the fact that he seemed to be naked, lying spread-eagled on a large, rubberized X and securely tied into place. Oh, shit! It’s worse than I thought. He was also blindfolded and had a ball-gag in his mouth, making anything beyond a moan or a grunt impossible.

How the hell did I get into this situation? Think, dammit, think!

The captive forced himself to clear the fog in his mind. He remembered entering a darkened room a few seconds before hearing a hissing noise. And then…

Knock out gas?

“Awake at last,” a very familiar voice said calmly.

Oh, hell!

The struggling fit this simple observation induced seemed to amuse the other man. “You might want to save your strength,” he said as he moved closer. “You’ll need it.”

This was followed by a hand sliding up the captive man’s side. He gave a shiver as the fingers gently played over his skin. His heart rate increased along with his breathing. What is he gonna do to me? He’s gonna try and hurt me. Humiliate me. Bastard!

“Are you afraid?”

Isn’t it bloody obvious!

The hand continued to travel over the captive’s body. “You’re so tense. Let me do something about that…”

Don’t think about what that means. This isn’t happening. These panicked thoughts were overshadowed by the heavy smell of spice that suddenly filled the air. Then two hands were massaging one of the captive man’s thighs. Two incredibly smooth hands. No, slick. Oil. He’s massaging me with scented oil!

“I was right. You are too tense.”

The massage continued for several minutes, gently working the knots from the captive man’s heavily muscled thigh before moving on to the other, and then up to the torso, pointedly skipping over the exposed genitals. Don’t think why. Don’t. The captive thought as the hands moved straight to his hips, his abdomen, and then slowly worked their way up his chest.

No, don’t relax! Don’t enjoy it! He’s gonna hurt you! The captive tried to concentrate on this, but knew the sounds rising in his throat would give him away, as would the fact that his back was arching in response to the hands playing over his chest and caressing his nipples.

“I knew you’d enjoy that,” came the almost smug whisper in the captive’s ear. “I probably should’ve tied you face down, so I could do your back. But…I can always do that later.”

Later? Oh, hell, don’t tell me that! Just get it over with!

The oil-slicked hands continued moving upward, massaging the captive man’s arms. First one, than the other, expertly working out all the knots. “You’re still not relaxing.”

No shit!

“And here I thought you’d enjoy this.”

This was the final straw. The captive started to thrash violently, straining at the ropes holding him in place, and making some very impressive angry noises. After several minutes, the futility of his actions sank in and he stopped, laying back and breathing heavily. He was trapped and he knew it. At the mercy, or lack there off, of his captor. God dammit!

“You don’t like this, do you?” The tone actually seemed surprised.

Isn’t it fucking obvious by now? The captive shook his head vigorously. To his surprise, the blindfold was removed, followed by the gag.


“Just finish torturing me and have done with it!” Dorian spat, pulling at his bindings. “Bloody sadist.”

Klaus gave him an odd look, running a hand over the thief’s chest, causing him to catch his breath, and producing goosebumps all over his flesh. “You’re a fine one to talk of torture. I’ve been fighting you off for how many years now,” he said as the hand slowly slide down Dorian’s body. “I’m really sick of it.”

Dorian drew another sharp breath when the officer’s fingers slowly slid into his pubic hair to brush against his genitals. “Mmmm…Major…” he stammered. “What are...?…? Oh, God…” He closed his eyes as the hand continued down and then started to massage his testicles.

“I’m done fighting,” Klaus announced, not without some difficulty.

“There…are…   Th…th… Ooooh,” Dorian was finding it hard to think coherently and had to struggle to say, “There are easier ways of telling me.”

“Would you’ve believed me?”

Now there’s a question. Dorian still didn’t believe what was happening now. “I…don’t know.” Christ, that feels fantastic!

Klaus nodded, silently accepting the answer.

Dorian was uncertain how to proceed, since his brain had suddenly decided to switch off. All he wanted was for the other man to go on, clumsy as he probably was. Ravage me! Have your way with me. That’s what I’ve always wanted. For the love of God, rape me if that’s what you want! Anything! I’ll do anything!

Klaus was still stroking the thief’s groin where an erection was very quickly developing.

Oh, God, that feels good. Dorian moaned, his back arching in response to the incredible turn of events.

“You like that?”

Dorian practically screamed his reply. “Yes! God, yes!”

“I thought you were afraid.”

“Only that you’ll stop!”

Klaus could not prevent a smile from coming to his face at this reply.

Dorian shook his head from side to side, a whine escaping him when Klaus momentarily took his hand away. Then the officer moved between his spread legs. Dorian caught his breath as the oil was applied directly to his straining erection. A moment later, Klaus started to slowly massage it in using both hands, pulling a delighted cry followed by groan of pleasure from his “captive.”

Dorian was already breathing heavily and strained against the ropes as he struggled to thrust his hips upward into the strong fingers. “Oh, God! You’re driving me mad!”

“You’re already mad,” Klaus said without malice, continuing in his slow progress.

“Oh, shut up!”


“Ooooh! You’re an evil man! Evil, evil.”

Klaus responded by further slowing the motion of his hands and gently squeezing the engorged member, causing the Earl to writhe all the more.

“I knew you were gonna torture me!”

“Shall I stop?”

NO! You horrible, beastly… Ooooo, God! You’re wonderful!” Dorian cried, squirming unsuccessfully to create more friction between the oil slicked hands. “This is my idea of torture!” he gasped out before finally begging for release.

When the Earl came at last, it was with a loud groan of absolute pleasure that Klaus had never heard before, but found incredibly stimulating. He was still unable to put words like arousing or erotic to any of the feelings he was having, but that would change in time.

Dorian lay panting, only vaguely aware of the ropes being removed from his extremities, being more interested in getting his eyeballs out of the back of his head. When he could finally put two coherent thoughts together, he was free and able to sit up. He gave Klaus a look through his eyelashes before taking hold of his shirt. “Now it’s your turn,” he said, planting a kiss squarely on the other man’s mouth. To his amazement, the kiss was returned in kind. Then strong arms wrapped around him.


Several hours later, Klaus awoke to find himself entangled in the Earl’s embrace. He wondered how best to extract himself without waking the other man. He was only partially successful, managing to get Dorian’s arm off before turning his attention to the leg that seemed to be locked over his hip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” came the Earl’s quiet, disapproving voice.

“The john.”

There was a low grunt in reply. “That’s okay then.”

Klaus’s eyes flickered. “If you’re gonna start ordering me around, I’ll tie you up again.”

Dorian rolled onto his back and stretched, looking at the man that he considered perfection itself through half-closed eyes. “Promise?”

“You idiot.”

“Mmmmm. But I’m your idiot.”

Klaus sat back, a thoughtful look passing over his features. “Yes. I believe you’re right.” He leaned down, giving the other man a kiss before sliding out of bed.

“And when you come back,” Dorian called softly, “maybe I’ll tie you up.”

To his astonishment, Klaus replied, “Maybe I’ll let you.”