Erik comes awake all at once, and assesses his surroundings.
A blindfold covers his eyes, so he uses his other senses. He's shackled spread eagle to a platform of some kind -- maybe a bed? It was soft enough. He hears the faint hum of an A/C unit, and even more faintly, the sounds of traffic. He takes in air through his nose and notes the scents of cleaning supplies, carpet, and flowers. Is he in a hotel room? Erik surreptitiously tests his bonds to see if there's any give.
"Ah, I see you're awake," says a male voice with a clipped, cultured British accent to his right. And how had Erik missed the sound of him breathing? It's hard to think, drugs his mind hazily supplies. And he's still suffering some of the aftereffects -- his skin feels, tight, hot, itchy.
Erik didn't bother wasting time with false bravado or denials -- clearly this person knew exactly who Erik was, if he was so skillfully able to get the drop on him. Best to endure, and wait for a chance to escape.
"Do you expect me to talk?" asks Erik.
"No, Mr. Eisenhardt. I expect you to scream," says the voice.
Erik keeps his face impassive but inwardly smirks -- it wasn't the first time he'd been tortured and it wouldn't be the last, either, probably, in his line of work. He could endure.
Erik hears the shing of metal on metal and notes that his captor appears to be cutting his clothes off. Pity. Erik had liked this suit.
Once all of his skin was bared to the cool air, Erik starts idly wondering which of the five basic torture groups his interrogator would start with -- blunt, sharp, hot, cold, or loud.
Erik can feel the warmth of his captor standing right next to him. "Are you ready for this? Let's find out."
Erik braces himself for the first blow, and, and there is a mouth on his cock, oh my god why is there a mouth on his cock and Erik bucks his hips and yells in surprise.
"There, there, Mr. Eisenhardt," said the voice, smugly. "I told you I would make you scream."
Charles is going to enjoy this.
He is familiar with the other man's reputation of course, as Eisenhardt (not his real name, but one of his more well-known aliases) was a legend in their line of work. Always saving the day, always catching the bad guy, always getting the girl -- Charles knew he couldn't possibly beat him at his own game, so he'd changed the rules.
Charles had known better than to try torture on Eisenhardt. But pleasure seemed to be working quite well -- if the man's shocked reaction when Charles had put his mouth on his cock had been any indication. He is already off-balance, and Charles intends to keep him that way. Not that it was a hardship -- Eisenhardt, is quite frankly, gorgeous.
Charles eyes the gag he has on his tray of supplies -- should he put it on the man? -- but decides that no, he wants to hear the man talk, and scream, and moan, and whimper. Instead he takes the cock ring, buckles it around the base of Eisenhardt's cock.
Then he gets to work.
Erik is faintly ... not worried, but perhaps concerned, when his captor starts touching him, warm caresses all over his body. This was a new tactic, and one he hadn't trained against. His captor was clever, credit where credit was due.
He's determined not to enjoy, but unfortunately his cock hasn't gotten the memo. He tries meditation, rhythmic breathing, anything to keep from ... reacting, but his tormenter was quite good at varying the speed and pressure of his touches, keeping Erik distracted and off-balance.
And then, oh, there was that mouth on his cock again, and this time Erik isn't surprised by it. And while his captor is certainly skilled at giving head, it's not like Erik hasn't had good blowjobs before.
Charles keeps an eye on his captive's reactions as he fellates him. Body flushed, breathing quickened, but not as much as Charles would like.
Time to up the stakes. He pulls off and takes a gulp from the champagne he has chilling in an ice bucket, the cork prepopped so as not to make noise.
Then he takes Eisenhardt's cock back into his mouth, let the liquid swirl around in his mouth for a bit, then swallows the champagne around his cock.
The man hisses.
Score one for Charles.
Charles repeats the stunt with ice, and with hot (but not scalding) tea. Satisfactory results each time.
Still, best to switch it up.
Charles decides to indulge himself, and drapes himself on top of Eisenhardt, enjoying the feel of warm skin against warm skin. He takes an ice cube, traces circles around the man's nipples for a bit.
He sucks a hickey into his neck simply because Charles likes the idea of leaving his mark on him. He moves to the other side of his neck, leaves the man with a matched set.
Charles slides back down Eisenhardt's body. He slicks up his fingers, then starts fellating him again. Charles tongues his captive's slit, while sliding one finger inside his hole, up to the knuckle.
His captive lets out a strangled yelp, writhes in his bonds.
Erik was in trouble.
"Well, wasn't that a lovely reaction?" mused his captor. "All those women you've fucked, Mr. Eisenhardt, and not one of them was kinky enough for anal play, I'd wager. And no men at all, would be my other guess." He slides his finger in and out, slowly, and Erik bites his lip.
The voice licks a long stripe down his cock, adds a second finger. Erik wills himself not to move.
"I must say, I rather enjoy the thought of being your first," says the voice, and for that statement alone, Erik would snap his neck if he got the chance.
Erik is about to snap out a retort, silent defiance be damned, when his captor crooks his fingers and hits -- something -- and it's like every nerve in his nervous systems goes off at once, deliciously electric, and a loud moan is ripped from his throat.
Charles continues sliding his fingers in and out of Eisenhardt's sweet ass, adding a third finger and occasionally stimulating his prostate, which never fails to garner a reaction. Eisenhardt is flushed, and his breath is coming in pants.
Charles hits the man's prostate yet again, while simultaneously pressing down on his abdomen with his other hand, and his captive lets out a choked sob.
Then Charles pulls his fingers out, and Charles is gratified to see his prisoner thrusting his hips downward, in the direction of where his fingers used to be, as if seeking out the contact.
Charles withdraws from the bed, and starts finger-fucking himself in preparation for the next act.
Erik is losing his mind.
Everything, everything, it's so good, it's too good, and he needs to remember who he is and what he's doing, but more than that he needs to come, he'd have come already if it weren't for the damn cock ring, and, and, and, he feels so empty, he doesn't want to feel empty, the voice has left him alone for several minutes now and he can't stand it, he needs the contact, and --
And there is a hand on his cock again (finally) and there is something warm wet tight sliding down it and back up, slowly, oh so slowly, and oh god he's riding me --
"Tell me what I want to know," says Charles, and lists off a series of requests for information.
His captive refuses, of course. Charles expected nothing less. But that's half the fun.
It takes time, but Charles is patient, and enjoying the ride. He rides his captive's cock for a while, and strokes off his own cock, letting his come splatter on his captive's belly.
He climbs off, wanders over to the table, eats some of the food room service delivered earlier.
He reads a book while absentmindedly using a vibrator to stimulate his captive's perineum, balls, anus.
And when Charles good and ready, he climbs back on, and starts riding again.
Erik's mind is gone.
His entire body feels like it's on fire, and his entire world has shrunk down to the warm heat engulfing his cock.
He thinks if he doesn't come soon he'll die. It's the only thought left in his head, that he needs to come, he'll do anything if he's just allowed to come, please --
Charles smirks in triumph. He doesn't think his captive meant to say that last bit out loud.
He crawls off the man's cock, and the man lets out a broken sob. "Please, please," he cries, fucking the air in a futile gesture.
Charles crawls up to the head of the bed, slides a pillow under Eisenhardt's head for support.
"Since you won't talk, you can do something else useful with that mouth," Charles says pleasantly, as he traces the man's lips with his cock. "Suck it, you slut, and do a good job."
The man doesn't even hesitate to open his mouth, and Charles slides right in, reveling in the sensations of hot and wet and soft. His captive is a little clumsy at this, but he's either a quick study or had been paying lots of attention when Charles had been blowing him, or both.
And frankly, just the thought that the mighty Eisenhardt was sucking his enemy's cock with enthusiasm, and the knowledge that Charles is the one who brought him to this state, is enough to send Charles over the edge, and soon enough he's pulling out of his captive's mouth (and Eisenhardt lets out a disappointed cry, and that alone might have made Charles come if he weren't already on the verge), and Charles comes all over his face.
Charles pulls away, and words explode out of his captive, strung together and almost incoherent, variations on please please let me come I need to come I'll do anything you want.
Charles slides back down onto Eisenhardt's cock one more time, and starts riding again. "Tell me what I want to know, or I will stop what I'm doing right now, get dressed, leave this room, and you will never encounter me again."
And that opens the floodgate. Charles is glad he has a trained memory, or else he would need to stop and take notes, the man is giving him so much. He rides up and down, up and down, squeezing out more information with every clench of his ass around his captive's cock.
Charles is a great believer in positive reinforcement. He reaches down, and unbuckles the cock ring.
Erik should care more about the words that are flowing out of his mouth, but he doesn't, he really doesn't, he just needs to come --
And finally that ring is gone and HE'S COMING, it's glorious, his entire body is bucking and spasming and it's never been this good, ever, ever, he comes and comes and comes until his balls feel like they've been sucked dry and he's crying and moaning and screaming all at once --
"Glad you enjoyed," said a warm voice right by Erik's ear, and when did his captor move?
"Do think of me, from time to time," and there's a gentle kiss on Erik's lips.
Erik is gasping, panting, reveling in the sensations shooting up and down his body, and doesn't register the prick of the needle until it's too late.
Five years later, and Erik is running for his life, burned by his own employers.
He's in a shoot out and has taken down six of the thugs, but the other four are proving tricky, the angle's off.
And then there are four rapid shots, and the other four are no longer a problem.
"Hello, there," says the shooter, coming out from behind cover and walking toward Erik, and Erik freezes. He will never forget that voice, not if he lives to be a hundred.
Erik has a gun aimed between his eyes, and the smug bastard doesn't even blink, he just keeps talking. "I've been burned, and I understand you've been as well. I propose an alliance for the time being," he says, all charm and polite smiles, and Erik just wants to punch him in the face.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because of all the people on this planet, I might be the only one you know doesn't want you dead, seeing as I've already passed up two chances," he points out and Erik has to admit that's true.
All right, thinks Erik. We can team up, take down our respective employers, and then I can kill him.
The first part of the plan takes them the over a year, but they manage it.
The second part of the plan doesn't go so well. Somehow "Kill Charles" turned into "Have sex with Charles at every available opportunity." And somehow "temporary alliance" turned into "working together as freelancers for the past three years, with no end in sight."
Erik has got Charles bent over a desk in a hotel room in Manhattan, thrusting into him hard and fast, when Charles gasps out, "I love you Erik."
Erik comes on the spot.
Oh, wonders Erik. When did that happen?
He opens his mouth to reply, and what comes out is, "We're in New York. Let's get married."
And they do.