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Stress relief

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"You're not going to find what you're looking for here," Mistress Kono says, sliding onto the bar stool next to Danny and crossing her long, silk-clad legs. The music's loud, but not so loud that Danny can't hear the soft tone of concern in her voice. "These are all amateurs. There's no-one here that's going to scratch your itch the way you need it, take it from me, brah."

Danny scans the dance floor, and he's inclined to agree with her. There's lots of good-looking tanned flesh on show, wrapped up in leather and chains, but that's just it, it's all show, and Danny needs more than window dressing.

"You know I'm right," she says, and of course she is, she always is, she understands and that's why Danny likes her, likes coming here. It's just a shame that she can't help him; Kono's a skilled and creative Mistress but her specialty is couples' therapy, and what Danny really needs right now is someone to take him down hard, not someone to share playtime with.

"It's been a tough week," Danny tells her, and it really has, all sorts of crap going down at work, and Rachel announcing that she and Stan are taking Grace off to England for the entire summer... Danny's tired, and wired, and he needs to be made to forget.

"I know, brah," Kono says, laying a sympathetic hand on Danny's arm. "That's why I've got a suggestion for you." She fishes into her cleavage and pulls out a business card, holding it out to Danny between two elegantly-manicured fingers. "This is the guy you need to see."

Danny looks at the card in his hand. He can just read it in the dim lighting of the club: "Looking for a personal trainer? Individual supervision and executive stress relief a specialty." There's a name, 'Steve', and a cell number.

"A 'personal trainer'? Seriously?"

Kono smiles at him, a wide and mischevious smile."Trust me. This guy can help you. - he's the best in the business. Ex-military, so he knows a thing or two about discipline. Call him - you'll like him." She drops a kiss on his cheek and then winks at him as she slips off the bar stool, preparing to leave. "Tell him I sent you. Have fun!"


"Come on up." The buzzer sounds and the latch clicks, and Danny's able to push the plain red door open and climb the stairs inside.

The room at the top of the stairs is simple and light, with a couple of comfortable-looking couches, a water cooler, and walls decorated with the sort of black and white photography that would never be allowed on display in a public gallery and that could almost make Danny blush. Almost. If he wasn't so secure in his own sexuality, that is...

If the art's striking, then the man holding out his hand in greeting is even more so. He's tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair, a day's-worth of stubble, a lot of intricately-tattooed lean muscle and a smile that lights up the room. He's dressed in skin-tight black leather pants and a sleeveless white T that looks like it's been sprayed on and fuck, he looks like just about every wet dream that Danny's ever had since admitting to himself that he prefers guys (and in particular ones who can throw him around).

"Danny," he says, "I'm glad you came. Sit." He takes a seat opposite Danny, relaxing into the cushions and stretching his arms out along the back of the couch, every movement telegraphing power and confidence. He examines Danny for a long moment with a look that's both cool and calculating, and then continues. "Kono told me a bit about you, and I think I can help you. But first I want to hear from you what exactly it is that you think you need."

Danny's still not entirely sure what he's doing here, or at least that's what he's telling himself, and the thought of baring his soul to a complete stranger - even a professional who's almost certainly heard worse than Danny's pathetic little fantasies - scares him rigid. This is a mistake, he thinks, this isn't him, and he's starting to push up out of his seat, intending to tell this guy - Steve - that he's changed his mind when Steve leans forward, fixes him with an intense look that says he's knows all about Danny's state of mind and says in a low but commanding voice "Tell me what you need, Daniel," and that's it, signed, sealed, delivered, Danny's in.

Danny, sits back down, swallows hard and then raises his chin and forces himself to look Steve in the eye. "I want to forget. I'm kind of having a tough time right now, I've got a lot of shit to deal with at work, and I'm starting to lose it. I need some downtime. I need someone who I can trust to put me down hard and make me give it up so that I can forget for a while."

Steve nods slowly. "I can do that for you. But first, I need to know - have you ever done this before?"

God, this is embarrassing, but Danny forces himself to answer, because he guesses that honesty's the deal-breaker here. "Uh... yes... I've done a couple of scenes, but nothing heavy... I mean, I've been... spanked and stuff, and tied up a couple of times, but I've never..."

"You've never used the services of a professional Dom before?" It's a measure of the man's professionalism that there's not the slightest hint of judgement or amusement in Steve's voice, and Danny can't even begin to think how grateful he is for that.


"That's useful to know." Steve looks aside for a moment, thoughtful, as though running through options in his mind, and then turns back to meet Danny's eyes with a direct look. "OK, I'll do a trial session with you. I promise that I'll push you as far as you need to go - but for that to work you need to trust me to know how far that is and how best to get you there. Can you do that?"

Mistress Kono says that this man is the best, and Danny trusts her... but more than that, his gut is telling him that this man's honorable, and Danny 's been a cop for long enough to pay even more attention to that than to Kono. His body's telling him that he needs this, and his gut's telling him that he's good to go... he looks Steve straight in the eye and nods. "I can do that."

Steve regards him for a second longer before the slight frown of concentration clears from between his eyes and he says "Good. So now, before we begin we need to agree some boundaries. I need you to tell me if there's anything you don't want me to do."

More embarrassment, but Danny figures he'd better get used to it. After all, this guy's kind of like his therapist or something, it's not good to have secrets... he digs into the back of his brain for all the stuff he's thought about. "No blood. Or bodily fluids other than spit or semen. Pain is good, but you need to keep any marks or bruises where they can be hidden by clothes... I've got a daughter, and she mustn't see me hurt. And..." he swallows again, gathering courage, "I'd like to get fucked. If... if that's something you do..."

Steve looks him up and down, and then cracks a slow, lazy smile. "I think I could manage that."

"Good," Danny says shakily. "So... what happens now?"

"D'you have a safeword?"

Ah yes, a safeword. Because this guy he's never met before is about to inflict damage on him and - hopefully - fuck him senseless. Of course he needs a safeword.

"Pineapple. It's pineapple."

That gets another smile. "Pineapple it is. So, do you want to go ahead with this?"

This is it. Danny's breath feels short and there's a strange, nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. "Yes," he says, "Yes, I do."

Steve surges to his feet, and Danny follows him up. Steve steps in close, close enough that Danny can feel the heat of his body, and reaches out with his fingers to tip Danny's head up until their eyes meet, searching Danny's face.

"Are you quite sure? Because I will hurt you."

Danny swallows and nods, "I'm sure."

Steve's voice drops and his tone hardens, his body straightening and stiffening as he takes command. "OK then. Go through that door over there - there's a room on the right where you can undress. Remove all your clothes, go into the studio and stand facing the wall, hands behind your back, and wait for me. And these are the rules: don't touch anything, don't speak unless you're spoken to, and don't look at me unless I tell you to. Is that clear?"

Danny nods again. His heart's beating faster and he's starting to get hard already.

"Good. Now go."

The door leads into a short corridor with doors on either side and a doorway at the end closed with a heavy red curtain - the entrance to the studio, Danny supposes. The door on the right opens into a small, functional room with a chair, a nightstand holding a small lamp and a variety of balms and lotions, and a wide, low bed with a couple of plain pillows. Recovery room, Danny thinks, and the thought makes a shiver run through him.

He suppresses the shiver as best he can as he removes his clothes, folding them as carefully and neatly as his shaking hands will allow, and places them in a pile on the chair. He's nervous about what's going to happen, even though he doesn't want to be, he's trying to calm himself and get into a submissive headspace, and now his dick's no longer sure if it should be excited or not. In short, he's a mess and he knows it.

But hey, Steve's a professional, he's seen it all before, right? Even if when it comes to it Danny can't get it up... Danny places his boxers on top of the pile of clothes, straightens up and gives himself a shake. He's come here for a reason, there's no point in hesitating and he's not about to change his mind. So, man up, Williams. Showtime.

The studio's dark - dark wood floor, black-painted walls, high-level windows shuttered to keep out the light completely. The only light is from a series of small spotlights recessed into the ceiling that mean that Danny has to pass through pool after pool of light as he walks across the floor to his ordained place at the far wall, giving him a disconcerting feeling of being on stage. He's not sure if he's allowed to look around him as he walks, so he doesn't, but he gets a idea out of the corners of his eyes, an impression of a wooden cross, a padded bench or horse of some sort, and a heavy beam above his head as he passes through the center of the room.

He reaches the wall and stands, clasping his hands behind his back and adjusting his stance to balance square on his feet. He lifts his chin and closes his eyes... he can smell a hint of sandalwood, hear the low hum of the air conditioning unit, and far away outside the faint sound of traffic, and he puts these aside... he makes a conscious effort to relax the tension in his shoulders and tries to slow his breathing, empty his mind and just wait...

He doesn't know how long he waits, it feels like forever and yet no time at all before he hears the rustle of the curtain and the pad of bare feet across the floor towards him.

"Daniel." Steve's tone is low, rough and absolutely not to be ignored.

Danny opens his eyes. "Yes?"

He can't help it, he gasps in surprise as Steve steps up behind him, crowding against him and shoving him up against the wall, his hand reaching out to grasp Danny's jaw roughly and drag his head backwards against his shoulder. He's lost his shirt, and Danny can feel hot skin pressed the length of his back. Steve smells of leather and oil, and his stubble is rough against Danny's cheek.

"Yes sir", he growls in Danny's ear.

"Sir," Danny huffs out, and as he does so Steve shoves his other hand down to grasp Danny's cock and balls and squeeze them roughly, and Danny can't help himself, he gasps again.

Steve chuckles in his ear, low and dirty. "I'm going to bend you over and paddle your ass until it's burning, and then I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be feeling me all week, Daniel. How does that sound to you?" And if Danny were capable of any coherent thought whatsoever at that moment, he'd be truly embarrassed at the sound that come out of his mouth right then, and incoherent, broken, needy sound...

Steve jerks Danny's head sharply back again, and tightens his grip on his balls. "I said, how does that sound to you, Daniel?"

Danny pulls himself together, he can't lose it, not yet, not so soon... "It... it sounds good, sir."

Steve lets him go and steps backwards, aiming a stinging slap at Danny's right ass cheek as he does so. "Right answer. Now, get over there. I want you belly-down over the end of the pommel horse, legs apart, hands on the rings, cock not touching anything. And make sure you're standing square - I don't want you falling over when I take the paddle to your ass. Go."

The horse is solid, its leather cover cool against his skin as he drops his forehead to it, reaching forward to get a strong grip on the nearest ring with his fingers. His feet are spread and his ass is pushed out, his cock hanging half-hard and heavy beneath his belly. He takes a deep, unsteady breath and braces himself. He's as ready as he's going to be.

"You going to stay still for me, or do I need to cuff you?" Steve's voice sends a dark shiver through him at the thought of being cuffed, being held down, but this time, this first time he's not sure that might not be too much, so he shakes his head... "N... no sir, I'll be still."

"Make sure you are." and with that the paddle makes contact with Danny's ass, a sudden, sharp, stinging pain and crack of leather against skin and fuck, Danny didn't even see him get the paddle from wherever he keeps it, hasn't even laid eyes on whatever it is Steve's just laid into him with. The paddle - big, it feels fucking big - comes down again with another sharp crack and Danny can't stop himself, he yelps. Strong fingers tangle in his hair and jerk his head back, a sharp burst of pain across his scalp as Steve growls into his ear."Quiet! Or I'll have to gag you." Danny whimpers and shakes his head, no, he's not ready for that, and the paddle comes down hard again against his ass, with an ordered "Shut the fuck up, then!". Danny grits his teeth hard and braces against the pain of another blow and then a second and a third, slow-timed and worked across from one ass cheek to the other, pain blossoming across his skin and lancing down into his muscles.

"So good, being so good for me," Steve's breath is hot against his ear, and there's a moment's respite, a moment's blessed respite from the paddle... "So good, doing just what I tell you, Daniel..." and then Steve shifts and lays a sudden blow across his upper thighs, and then another that almost has Danny screaming out loud again, because fuck, he wasn't expecting that, and it hurts worse than his ass, and getting spanked was never like this...

But he's holding on, this is what he wants, and he's being good, he can do this for Steve, even if the pain is going to take him, consume him and swallow him up... Steve switches up and moves back to his ass, working the paddle hard against his skin, each stroke laying deep bruises into the muscle. Danny's ass is burning now, red heat and pain radiating down his thighs and up along his back and it hurts so bad, he can't think straight, can't think of anything except how much it hurts, how much he wants it to hurt, how there's nothing except the feeling of the paddle hitting his skin and it feels fucking glorious because it's all there is and all that matters in the whole wide world... He's got his eyes screwed shut and he's vaguely aware of tears leaking out and running down his face but none of that matters because the only thing that matters is the pain...

He's not counting, doesn't know if Steve's counting, but at some point it must be enough because the paddle stops hitting his skin and instead he feels fingers at his asshole, lubed fingers shoving inside him and twisting roughly until they hit his prostate. He's flying high on so many endorphins now that the minor discomfort of the intrusion doesn't register, but the sensation of pleasure that rushes through his body is almost too much and he nearly cries out again.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Steve growls, "Going to push my cock into that tight little hole of yours and fuck that pretty red ass so deep and hard you'll be feeling me in you for weeks, and there's nothing you can do except bend over and take it," and with that his fingers are gone and Danny can feel the blunt head of Steve's cock pushing against him. Steve's got his hands spread across Danny's ass, fingers digging into the sore and reddened skin to pull his ass cheeks wide so that he can line himself up and drive in with one hard thrust, and Danny feels that pain, bright and sharp as Steve penetrates him, a counterpoint against the pain of his skin. This time he can't help it, he hisses a gasped sound as Steve snaps his hips to drive himself home, and that earns him another hard slap across the ass.

"Quiet!" Steve orders, fingers sliding round to dig mercilessly into Danny's hips and hold and angle him just where Steve wants him as he pulls back and slams into Danny again, and it's all Danny can do to stay on his feet at the force of it. "Think I'll use the ball gag on you next time, let you scream and scream all you want and no-one will be able to hear what I'm doing to you..." and oh God, Danny gets a mental flash of himself cuffed and gagged and bent over taking Steve's cock and he's suddenly blindingly, achingly hard. He ruts his hips forward into thin air, desperate for friction but he can't get any, and Steve jerks him back roughly, impaling him on his cock and holding him pinned against him. "Not yet, Daniel, not until I say so," and Danny almost sobs with the frustration of it.

Steve loosens his grip and pulls back again, slower this time, the drag of his cock over the rim of Danny's hole a new source of almost unbearable sensation. "You'll come when I tell you to and not before, because I'm the one calling the shots here." He pushes back in, slow and inexorable and so fucking big, and it's like Danny can feel Steve all the way up inside him, stretching him wide, impossibly wide, filling him up with his cock... "Your job is just to take whatever I give you and like it, Daniel" Steve's voice is low, dark and tense, his cock driving forward into Danny's ass, picking up the pace and almost lifting Danny off his feet with each thrust. "You're a natural at this, just made for bending over and getting fucked, so tight for me," and he fucks hard into Danny again, and now Danny's asshole feels as red and sore as his ass, the burn of Steve's cock riding the line between pleasure and pain, and he's going to go out of his mind if Steve doesn't let him come soon...

Steve takes it up another notch, fucking him harder and faster now, grinding deep and nailing his prostate with each thrust, and fuck, Steve hasn't even taken his pants off, he's just unzipped and shoved right in and Danny can feel leather and metal rubbing harshly against his sensitized skin with each stroke, layering pain on pain. He can't think any more, he's starting to spiral away under the onslaught of sensation, too much pain and too much pleasure, focused down on the slap of leather against flesh, Steve's deep grunt each time he fucks deep into Danny's ass and his own half-choked sobs as he feels Steve's cock drive deep up into him and split him wide... he's laid bare, in every sort of way, and it's terrible and it's wonderful and he didn't know he had this in him...

Steve leans forward over him, and suddenly his hand's on Danny's cock, hot and hard and demanding,. "Come for me, Daniel," Steve growls in his ear, gripping him tight and jacking him roughly as he fucks into him. "Come for me now, I want to feel you come on my cock," and that's it, Danny's done, his whole body convulsing in a spasm of exquisite pleasure/pain, writhing and jerking on Steve's cock as his orgasm rushes through him and he loses it all over Steve's hand and the pommel horse and the floor.

The next thing he knows is that his knees - fuck, all of his limbs - are trying to give way... his whole body feels spent, like it can't hold him up any more, like all his strength's been sucked out of him through his dick, and he wants to slide to the floor but he mustn't, that wouldn't be manly or something, but fuck if he cares right now, the floor's where he's headed... He vaguely feels Steve's cock slip out of his ass as he starts to crumple, but then Steve wraps his arms around him, strong and sure. "Stand up, Daniel," he says, and it's an order - he has to obey orders in here, right? - so he pushes up and tries to lock his knees and it's OK because Steve's got him. "This way. Walk." Steve says, holding him up and half-pulling, half pushing him, and Steve wants him to move, Steve wants him to go somewhere, so he guesses he really should do what he's told...

He faceplants onto something soft, the bed, he thinks, the recovery room bed... it's soft, and it smells good, and the pain in his ass has dialled down to a dull, insistent red throb, inside and out, which feels good as well as bad, and he just wants to lie there and float... He's dimly aware of warm hands rubbing gentle circles across his ass, the soreness of friction on reddened skin giving way to a feeling of coolness that soothes and comforts, and then the hands go away and a light sheet settles across his ass and shoulders. Fingers touch his hair, light and easy against his scalp, stroking him, petting him, and it feels good, it feels warm, it feels ... protected...

The last thing Danny is aware of is the murmur of Steve's voice, soft and far off... "Take as long as you need, Daniel. You're safe here," and Danny lets go and slips away into blessed sleep.


Danny's sore as fuck, and driving to work's no fun, but he slept like a baby last night once he got home and he feels relaxed, like all the kinks have gotten worked out of his system, both mentally and physically. Even the long coffee queue can't harsh his buzz, and he joins it and lets himself drift, enjoying the feeling of just feeling... good.

"Hey," comes a cheerful rumble from behind him. "Danny, isn't it?"

Danny turns to look. The guy behind him is wearing tan cargo pants, a green polo shirt and a blindingly gorgeous smile, and he looks kind of familiar, but Danny can't quite...

Oh fuck... Danny flashes back to tattooed skin and skin-tight leather, and that voice growling orders into his ear, and how the hell do you make polite small-talk in public with the guy who tanned your ass last night and then fucked you so hard that you'll be doing all your paperwork standing up today?

Danny never saw this coming.

"Oh, hi Steve..."

The gorgeous grin widens. "I thought our session yesterday went really well, didn't you?"

Oh God, Danny's sure his face must be as red as his ass feels right now. Steve had been nowhere to be seen when he woke up in the recovery room, so Danny'd avoided having to discuss what had happened in the studio, and Danny was just fine with that. Danny wasn't even sure he was fine with discussing it with himself just yet.

Steve's obviously expecting a response.

"Uh, yeah, it was..."

"So, if you wanted to schedule another appointment I'd be happy to find space in the diary - in my experience regular sessions give the most benefit. And I offer discounted rates to my regular clients," and here he kind of, almost, winks at Danny "Especially my favorites."

That's it, Danny's going to die, here, right now.

"O...O...OK," he stutters, "I might do that..."

"Good!" Steve says, sounding delighted, "You've still got my card, right?"

"Yeah," Danny answers, because he has, he's kept it, slipped into his wallet just in case, in the unlikely event that he ever needs...

"Great, I'll be seeing you then," Steve flashes a last grin and leans in close. "Call me," he growls into Danny's ear, a growl that goes straight to Danny's dick, and then he's gone.

It's only 8 o'clock in the morning and Danny's standing in the coffee queue with a sore ass and a raging hard on, and seriously, how is this his life?