BDSM Manor Ch. 21: Times of Need

Rules of BDSM Manor - safety, respect, and consent.

Note to reader: You will get more from these characters if you read the stories in order, but it's not compulsory.

Tess-O'Meter -- Green

-X

After the fourth attempt I managed to get my key in the lock. Stumbling over my suitcase, my bag sliding from my shoulder, I slapped my hand against the hall wall to prevent faceplanting.

"Alex?" I blinked my gritty eyes but didn't call too loud in case he was sleeping. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning.

I had been postponing a trip to the States for a number of weeks due to an ongoing situation in my UK business. My New York trip was to sign off on the transfer of that business to my US based partner, who had taken it on five years ago. The intention always was that he would buy me out if it went well. I didn't want to be bouncing between two countries.

New York was booming, the staff were more than happy, it was time to finalise the switch. But the events section of my UK based business had attracted some unwanted attention, as had one of my key staff members, and a very good friend. I wasn't leaving until that was sorted.

I was on a plane within hours of getting the all clear. Arriving late in New York and making my way to the hotel which had been arranged by my ex-New York -- PA. Surprised to see her waiting in the foyer outside my suite as we were due to have dinner the following night, and would see each other in meetings all day first.

Plus it was gone eleven at night.

"Hey Cathleen, what are you doing here?" I returned her hard hug. "Couldn't wait till dinner tomorrow?"

She stepped back so I could swipe us in. "Dinner's cancelled I'm sorry to say, we'll have to catch up another time." I dumped my bags and turned with a questioning frown. More confused when she mumbled into her phone then passed it to me. "Here, I'll grab you a drink."

Confused I took her phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, babe." It was Alex, his voice rough. Not surprising as it was the arse-crack of dawn in the UK.

"What's going on?"

"First of all, he's absolutely fine. Second, Cathleen has you on the late flight back tomorrow, so try not to freak out, you'll be home soon."

"Alex, what's happened?" I asked, my voice low with warning. Cathleen came back across the room with a glass of whiskey, but didn't pass it over, she simply laid her hand on my arm, her eyes full of sympathy. Her grip tightened at Alex's next words. No doubt due to the shock in my face.

"Curtis was shot."

"WHAT?"

"He's okay. He. Is. Okay."

"But, what? Where?" I didn't protest when Cathleen tugged me to a chair and pushed me down.

"In London."

"Alex!"

"Sorry, I'm tired. That Mackenzie guy, turned out he wasn't in custody. He shot Curtis in the head."

"What? Jesus," my voice failed as Cathleen gently pushed me back down.

"I swear, Leslie. It's a scrape. Like a graze on his temple. He's shaken and has a crashing headache, but otherwise he is fine."

I found I couldn't get my voice out.

"Leslie? Leslie?" Cathleen took her phone back and pushed the whiskey at me, speaking quietly to Alex as I sipped. When I nodded she handed it back.

"Sorry. Jesus, Alex." My voice cracked.

"Go get some sleep. It's all over now and you'll be home tomorrow. No, day after. Shit, whatever, you can't get here any faster, so go do your stuff. The amazing Cathleen has everything in hand, okay?"

"He's really?"

"Sore, grumpy, shaken. I promise. Go sleep."

"I love you," I didn't know what else to say.

"Love you too. Speak tomorrow," Alex ended the call. Probably knowing I never would.

I looked helplessly at Cathleen who nudged my arm to encourage another sip. "Alex wouldn't lie to you, Leslie. If it was bad news he would have flown over to tell you face to face." She had met Alex a few times, and I nodded, knowing she was right.

"Curtis is."

"Your oldest friend, I remember him. He's lovely, and so handsome," she smiled when I huffed a laugh. She rubbed my knee and stood from where she had been crouching in front of the chair. "We'll get you sorted and back home tomorrow. Car pick up at seven. Meeting starts at eight. Breakfast when you arrive, so just get yourself to the car."

"Still an amazing PA," I smiled, but it felt wobbly, and stood.

"I enjoyed working with you, Leslie. But you found us a good new boss with David. Everyone is so happy." She nodded, "You need sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. You'll be okay?"

I nodded, but then, "Can I just get a hug?" Humming when Cathleen pulled me in and squeezed me close. Not only is Cathleen an amazing PA who runs the New York office like clockwork, she's also a busy foster-mom and gives the best hugs.

I had ended up being in New York about twenty-seven hours before heading back home and was now jet lagged to hell with anxiety that had climbed the more tired I became.

I had known Curtis since I was eight. We had been at boarding school together, grown up together, discovered our sexuality together, experimented together (for like, a minute and a half. Weirdest hand-job ever. Hell no!) and he had been my rock when my cousin Sadie and I lost our parents when I was only fifteen.

Curtis had supported me through my grief, held me when I cried, been there through early heartbreak, stayed my friend while I was banished to the States, and even guided me through my doubt over loving Alex when I briefly forgot my own heart.

We were more like brothers than friends. Being made roomies on our first day at boarding, just eight years old. Knowing that, unless there was a major issue like attempted murder, we would be rooming together until we were nineteen. Thankfully, we hit it off immediately.

Don't get the wrong impression though. I wasn't dumped in school. I was incredibly close to my parents, but the school was a tradition going back several generations. From when the kids were sent 'back to England' for their education, while the family lived elsewhere.

Sadie and my parents lived in the UK, at the family estate, but travelled a lot. Of course, Sadie is ten years older than me, so was leaving school almost as I was starting and going off to university.

Would I have sent my own kids to boarding school?

Nah. But I quite liked it. And it was only thirty miles from Perrycombe. (For those of you who don't know. BDSM Manor is really called Perrycombe Manor. Part of the Perrycombe Estate).

It was different for Curtis. He was dumped there. His sister was older than Sadie, and married, living in Australia, where she still is.

His parents are a bit random. They get on okay, on the rare occasions he sees them, but they've never been particularly invested in their children. Curtis had a succession of nannies and servants and then got shipped off to school.

When we were thirteen, Ms Nees (yes, sounds like knees, you can imagine the fun kids had with that!) our 'house mother' (terrifying, and old. At least fifty!) arrived one night about ten minutes before lights out (eight-thirty pm -- sharp).

With her usual disapproving expression, she informed Curtis he was needed in the headmaster's office, as his parents were here. To be fair, she hurriedly reassured him that nothing bad had happened, but she wouldn't let me go with him.

"It's his parents, Morgan, not some ogre. What on earth are you concerned about?" She sniffed, and relented. "You can keep your light on until he returns."

Curtis had returned around forty-five minutes later. Ms Nees now looked like she was sucking a lemon. He flopped down on his bed in a daze. I must have looked worried, as Ms Nees almost smiled. "Lights out at ten, boys," she said gently and jerked her head towards Curtis before shutting the door.

I was out of bed and over to him in a flash.

"What's going on?"

Curtis had frowned at the wall. "They're moving to Canada."

"You're leaving?" I asked, horrified.

He shook his head. "I'm staying. They said they would find me somewhere in Canada, but I want to stay here. But." He turned and looked at me. Dark green eyes full of concern. "They said I would only be able to go over in the summer. I said I would spend the holidays with you. It's fine if I can't," he rushed on. "Old Topper will sort something."

Old Topper, or Mr Topper, was Curtis' solicitor. Curtis' family was loaded, and he had his own inheritance from his grandfather which Mr Topper administered. He was ancient and crusty with a heart of gold. He came to every single sports day. Curtis' mum and dad had never been to one.

"Of course you'll stay with us," I declared, hugging him close. "Old Topper can't be putting you in a B&B every holiday." Even at thirteen I suspected that Curtis' grandad had great foresight in putting Curtis' wealth and welfare in the hands of such a man.

"But you should write and tell him what's happened," I continued. "And I'll give Mum and Dad the heads up. Don't worry. I'm sorry, are you very upset?"

"I don't know what I am," Curtis had admitted.

Ten days later, my parents had made arrangements to collect us and take us to tea in the nearby village. Curtis had been surprised to find Mr Topper was attending as well.

Dad told us that Mr Topper had contacted them to make sure they were happy for Curtis to stay, when needed, and that there were suitable.

"We've been thoroughly vetted," Dad had joked when he drove us back. Less than two years later they were gone, and it was Sadie being vetted by Old Topper.

She passed with flying colours and still uses his grandson for her personal legal business. (Mr Topper is ninety-three at time of writing. Still going strong, still not fully retired, and Curtis still takes him to tea on his birthday.)

Only a couple of years ago Curtis told me about a conversation he had with my dad about six months later, that first Christmas.

Apparently Curtis, still thirteen, was not seeing the point in exams and study when he had more money than he could reasonably spend. Even if it was under varying levels of Mr Topper's control until he was thirty.

He credits my dad with giving him direction and the need to make his own way (Curtis is a business lawyer, in case you didn't know. Does a fair amount of work for me, and dabbles, but half his working hours are pro bono, for charities).

Curtis is convinced if not for that conversation, on a snowy post-dinner walk, he would have flunked school and been dead by thirty from drink and drugs, fast cars, or just plain boredom.

He also came out to my dad on that walk. A fact I found fascinating, as I never got the chance to tell my parents I was gay. I didn't come out until I was seventeen. At thirteen I was too scared to tell anyone.

To my delight, Dad simply nodded and asked if I knew and if I was supportive. To which Curtis was able to confirm yes, and yes. Then Dad asked if he knew about keeping himself safe, and if there was someone at school to speak with, or if Curtis wanted Dad to arrange something.

Curtis said he went bright red when he realized, 'Oh no. Mr Morgan is trying to talk to me about sex!' and hastily confirmed the school nurse was super approachable, should he ever have the need. But you know. Thirteen!

(Like most Queer kids our age, we got our information from porn and old smuggled in issues of Attitude magazine!)

All of this had been twisting and turning in my head the whole flight, and now I was feeling overwhelmed.

Shot.

My best friend, my brother. Fucking shot.

-X

I pushed away from the wall and pressed a hand to my chest. I had to see with my own eyes.

Alex appeared and I fell into his arms. Letting him support me while I pressed my nose into his neck and inhaled. "Jesus, Alex. I need."

"It's okay. Come on." With a hand around my waist, holding me tight against him, and another rubbing up and down my back, Alex managed to hold me tight and safe, and move me into the main room at the same time. "Here you go," he kissed my hair and jiggled his shoulder to encourage me to look up.

Curtis and Chris were on the couch. Curtis looked exhausted and Chris pushed a hand on his tummy to stop him standing, even as he stood himself and helped as Alex passed me over. "Sit down here, Leslie." I half fell onto the couch next to Curtis and we just clung to each other.

It felt like hours, but it was probably more like five minutes when the couch dipped and Chris sat back down next to me. I had been gripping Curtis' hand with both of mine, but I moved now so Chris could snuggle under my right arm and against my chest. His free hand reaching out to link with mine and Curtis' hands on my tummy. Which let out a loud rumble and made Chris shake with silent giggles.

"I might be a bit smelly," I warned him. Absently playing with one of his thick bouncy dreadlocks.

He gave me an experimental sniff. "You smell like someone who showered at JFK."

"I did shower at JFK."

"Well then." He shrugged and then lifted his head as Alex came over with a plate heaped with cheese-on-toast. Properly made, all bubbling, with a scattering of Worchester sauce.

Alex sat opposite us on the low table and I wondered why he had made so much, but of course, three of the triangle slices were immediately nabbed by Curtis, Chris and Alex. I frowned and grabbed one for myself.

The four of us, all exhausted and half asleep, just sat and munched. Not bothering to speak, just occasionally touching a hand to an arm, or a knee rub. When the toast was gone, Alex simply said, "Bed." Lifting me from the Curtis/Chris sandwich and slipping a hand around my waist.

Curtis and I hadn't actually spoken at all.

After confirming Chris could manage Curtis, Alex half carried me into our room. Held me up while I cleaned my teeth, then dumped me on the bed and stripped me.

At least I woke up naked, so I assumed it was Alex who stripped me.

-X

It was late when I woke.

Rolling, I blinked several times to bring Alex into focus.

He looks great in soft focus, but even better when I rub the sleepy-dust away and can admire him properly.

Sprawled over his half of the bed and approximately a third of my slice (which I'm convinced is a smaller half to start with!) his dark blonde hair a mess over his face and the pillow.

Even darker, and ridiculously long lashes fluttered on his sleep creased cheeks.

His lips were slightly parted, pouty, and damp. As if he had been chewing his bottom lip nervously in his sleep.

My lips tingled with need and, as technically we had already brushed this morning, I decided to risk it and leaned over to capture his full bottom lip gently between my own.

Alex calls this 'lip-nibbling' and it is one of his favourite ways to be pulled from slumber.

His lips curved against mine, even as my hand coasted over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach and slipped under the sheet, taking him in hand and kissing his gasp.

"Hmmm. Yes. Morning," he mumbled.

"You fake sleeping?" I accused gently. Gripping and stroking.

"No," he frowned and chased for my lips.

"Little Alex is wide awake," I pointed out. Twisting on the next upstroke and chuckling as his hips jerked, his ass leaving the bed.

"Whoa. Always. R-ready," Alex stammered, then pulled my head down and thrust into my fist as we kissed.

Still woozy and jetlagged, I kept it quiet and gentle. Stealing Alex's breaths and loving him, until he tensed and gasped into my mouth. Finally relaxing back into the mattress and smiling at me, his dark blue eyes full of love.

"Give me five and I'll return the favour."

I wrinkled my nose and, after wiping my hand on a tissue, snuggled against his damp skin, pressing my nose into his neck. "I'm okay. I'm beat. See, only half hard!" I nudged against his thigh.

"Are you sick?" Alex pulled back so he could study my face and I snorted a laugh. To be fair, I couldn't remember a previous occasion I had turned down any part of Alex on any part of me.

"I'm just tired and shocky, I think. I don't feel ill. Just exhausted." I worked up a smile. "A snuggle is perfect right now, but I'm sure I'll have more energy later."

I murmured happily as Alex cuddled me close, and dozed in his arms for a while. Until a gentle tap on our door brought me round again.

The door cracked and Chris' head poked in, a hand over his eyes. "Is it safe?"

My head bobbed on Alex's chest as he laughed. "Yea, come on in."

Chris walked in and smiled at us all snuggled in. "Awwwwww," he said and the smile turned to a snigger at my narrow eyed glare. "It's getting late. Are you still okay to help me, Alex?"

"Sure," I rolled away as Alex pushed up to sit. Being careful not to drag the sheet down with me, as we were both starkers. (I know, but it's different at the manor!) "I'm gonna go with Chris and get some of their stuff, now that you're here to sit with Curtis. That okay?"

"Yea, that's great." I agreed. "Stay as long as you want."

"A few days," Chris agreed. "I don't think he's still concussed, but I didn't want to leave him alone, or drag him around, and I can't carry all the hair products Curtis apparently can't live without, on my own!"

"I heard that," A grumpy Curtis scowled through the door, then walked away, grumbling about not needing a nursemaid.

"He smacked his head when he went down," Alex explained before I could ask.

"But he's fine," Chris added kindly, before turning at a crash from the kitchen. "I said I'd do the omelettes," he yelled, quickly leaving the room.

Alex jumped in the shower while I dragged on sweats and wandered to the kitchen. Sitting close to Curtis and chatting quietly while we watched Chris cook.

Sitting to chat on the couch and both nodding off, only to be caught a few hours later when Alex and Chris arrived back with three cases.

"Hair stuff," Chris winked, hauling the largest case into the spare room.

"Git!" Curtis complained, but was smiling.

-X

Three days later Chris, gave me a lift with him and Curtis down to the manor. Alex had gone yesterday morning, and I had been pleased for their company last night. I hated being parted from Alex, but had needed to go to a late meeting.

Curtis was still a little weary, but doing well, and I had moved past my overprotectiveness. Mostly.

My mind was still a bit 'all over the place' and what was best termed melancholy.

I half dozed, half listened, sat behind the driver's seat. Curtis, in the passenger seat making moon eyes at Chris as they chatted.

He was better. Still tired, but had wanted to attend this weekend. Of course, everyone wanted to see him as well.

The bruise was dark on his temple, and I frowned. Deliberately pushing my mind away from the lingering fear.

Curtis had a new style, for the first time in years. Chris' friend Phillipe had cut his hair, and it was taking some time to get used to the lack of product that usually slicked his hair back.

Phillipe had freed his curls. The new style partly hid the bruise, Curtis' hair now dancing around his face, but more importantly it had taken years off him.

It looked younger and more carefree, and so did Curtis. "Guess I was stuck in a rut," he admitted to me last night as he fake admired himself in the mirror and pulled strands through his fingers.

I smiled, my mind drifting back to again to school. Curtis and I both had dark curly hair, and had been nicknamed 'the twins' within about five minutes of arriving.

'Yin and Yang' was another name thrown at us regularly, due to my darker skin tone.

When cricket season started and I tanned, I lived with worse names. Including a certain word I wouldn't use in polite company, and certainly not in front of Chris.

Kids are idiots. But Curtis and I had each other's backs and school had mostly been fun.

Thinking vaguely of hair, my mind wandered forwards again, to a confession that Chris had made a couple of nights ago.

About his first trip to the manor, he had been so shy and nervous. I had steered clear, as he was an employee and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Also it had been the same weekend I took Alex down for the first time, so I had been busy.

Chris had admitted how out of place he felt. Thrown into this old big house, on a huge private estate, surrounded by people who, let's be honest, mainly earned way above the national average (which is no where near what media or government statistics claim).

Elegant people and furnishings. Luxurious rooms. After being given the tour and welcomed by everyone, Chris admitted he had been overwhelmed and nervous when Curtis left him briefly in the room while he went to arrange dinner.

Chris had gratefully dumped his mask and poked about. Finding beautifully scented, environmentally friendly products in the bathroom. (Shower and bath waste goes back into the local river system so only manor products are allowed.) He had inhaled the citrus scents he associated with Curtis and realised, other than the shower gel, he couldn't use any of it.

Apparently that had been the final overwhelming straw and he had crashed into a mess of uncertainly and a crisis of confidence.

What was he, barely out of his internship, doing with a top class lawyer?

What was he, a black, working class kid, doing with an older white man, whose accent occasionally bordered on old fashioned BBC?

What was he doing in a place where he hadn't seen any non-whites, and which was filled with self-proclaimed out and proud sexual deviants?

Actually, that last part was totally untrue. Not the deviant part, none of us would deny that! But the manor is as multi-cultural as any other part of the UK, it had just been a slow weekend.

He had struggled through a quiet dinner, and snuggled through a sleepless night. Too scared to share this thoughts with a concerned Curtis.

At breakfast the next day, Curtis had been about to ask if Chris just wanted to go home. Admitting he had seemed so sad. But a knock at the door had interrupted him.

In had walked Sadie and a new mistress that Chris hadn't met the day before.

Candice is fabulous. She is only five-five, but walks with such attitude and confidence that she just excludes power.

She has subs, not slaves. All genders and they all adore her.

She was born in Sierra Leone, moved to the UK when she was three, and is one of the most successful opera singers in the world. Smashing through barriers and bigotry with almost careless aplomb.

Now in her sixties, she looks about forty, and I still remember how impressed I had been the first time I met her. Of course, Candice is not her stage name and we all keep her identity quiet. Everyone should have privacy and the right to fulfil their sexual desires.

Curtis had sniggered as Chris told us how his jaw had hit the counter when she walked in. Smiling, hugging him like they were best friends, and handing him a box of goodies.

"I'm sorry I hadn't had any here before you arrived, Chris." Sadie had apologized. "I didn't know they were needed and was awaiting a delivery."

Candice had then sat, requesting a cappuccino from Curtis, and talking Chris through the hair products and how to use them. I mean, you can't use just anything on dreads, even I know that.

All three visitors had hugged an emotional Chris when he admitted he had been feeling very out of place, and now he felt more comfortable.

I roused and smirked as we turned into the long drive.

Chris wasn't the only one who had fallen in love with our eco-friendly, handmade, black hair care products.

Phillipe, the guy who looked after his style, had been so impressed with the condition of Chris' hair, he now only used that range in his salon, which specialised in black hair.

(He had waited until he had Curtis pinned in the chair, before he admitted he hadn't cut white hair in years. Thankfully, Chris was filming his reaction and I have to say, the look of terror on Curtis' face was priceless!)

Phillipe also sold the products, which had meant the guy that made them for us. Who lives in a caravan in Glastonbury, using his own goats milk, spring water, and honey, as a base in his products. Had been able to give up his part time job in the local Co-op and concentrate on his product range and teaching Yoga.

We also use his Asian range, which both Keira and Shey swear by.

"What are you smirking at?" Curtis asked, as the car stopped and we pushed open doors.

"Just feeling proud of some of our achievements," I admitted. "Oh, watch out!"

Curtis look around at my warning and sighed as at least ten people came running out calling his name.

He was kissed, hugged, examined, and tearfully exclaimed over, by an increasing crowd, until Sadie pulled the boss card and sent everyone away. Then she pulled him into her own arms.

"Chris told me you were okay, but it's so good to see you."

"Thanks, Sadie. I'm mostly tired." Curtis hugged her back, hard.

"You're joining John and me for lunch," she insisted. "Get your breath back."

We wandered into the foyer to be greeted by a relieved John, who simply held Curtis against his chest and pressed his cheek gently to his hair. "Welcome home."

Curtis gripped and sniffled a little.

"And I like the hair."

The sniffle became a snort.

I frowned at the young female cum-dump currently dripping over the mats. Closely watched by her minder. Confused, as I had been expecting to see Alex in place.

"Ah, yes," John said, seeing my look. "That's my fault. I'll apologize in advance."

"Is he okay?" I asked. Jumping slightly when my wrist was gripped by a warm hand.

"With me," Alex tugged. "Catch you later," he told Curtis and Chris.

I looked back at John who mouthed, 'Sorry' and winked.

-X

Alex towed me right into the apartment and over to the kitchen. Turning and folding his arms over his chest when we reached the counter.

The counter where a red wristband sat.

"Ah," was my only comment.

Alex merely raised an eyebrow and I studied him, trying to figure out how pissed off he was.

Here's the thing. Alex and I don't have any secrets. Or we don't have any secrets apart from this one thing.

You all know that Alex enjoys role play and pain play, but also use. Few things turn Alex on as much as a good gangbang.

Here at the manor he can indulge. Or more to the point, he has 'given' himself to me and I allow other people to indulge in him. Which he loves. He knows he safe. He knows he won't be injured. I own him, and he loves being owned.

But I've always allowed Alex the impression that his use is somewhat uncontrolled. Open.

Everyone uses condoms, everyone is tested, and there are procedures in place should an accident occur. Such as a condom splitting during a good aggressive pounding.

We have never had a case of sexually transmitted disease at the manor. Which is miraculous, but everyone plays their part and takes safety very seriously.

However, Alex's assumption that when I, for example, strap him helpless, blindfolded and gagged, onto the stocks and allow his ass to be pounded for hours. He is free for anyone to wander over and use, is actually not correct.

I'm extremely particular about who gets his ass.

Anyone can play with him. Dildo's, floggers, fingers, zappers, (strap-ons, actually, are considered toys), mouth -- lips- teeth, hands, clips, weights... whatever, bring it on. Play away.

But for a man (because the ladies use strap-ons, and at the current time the only lady at the manor with a real dick is Mistress Karen, and she keeps it tucked away) to take my husband's ass, they need my authority, and it's a very select few.

My authority and a red wrist band. Other slaves and subs have different colours. And, no matter how well the dominant at the time (because subs will play a dominant role in gangbangs. Chris is cleared to fuck Alex, and does during role play), is known, or how many times they have taken him in the past, the minder will scan the band every time to make sure the authority has not been withdrawn.

There are only twelve bands issued for Alex, and not everyone is here every weekend.

What Alex had just discovered, is that his free use, is actually very well controlled. And that I had basically lied to him. Or certainly given him the impression that I allowed people to treat him like a total slut.

The problem for me was, Alex can do this thing, and I hate it, where I just can't read his expression. He sort of blanks out. He does it rarely, and usually in jest, but he was doing it now and I was deeply uncomfortable.

I studied his dark denim eyes, but then gave in. "Okay, how angry are you?"

He pursed his lips. "Any other secrets?"

"No," I confirmed quickly.

"Any other lies?"

I winced. "No, I swear."

I searched his face as he stepped forward and lifted my hands. Kissing my left palm, then wrist. Then my right palm, followed by wrist.

"Leslie," he said softly. "We are going to stay here and go back early on Monday. Tomorrow night, when most people have gone, we are going to come up here and I am going to ask you a question. Your answer will be, yes."

"Yes, I'll say yes," I promised promptly. Relieved when humour slid into his eyes. "You're not mad," I sighed.

Alex smiled and kissed me. "No, I'm not mad. I love you. I don't understand how I didn't cotton on before. I've seen people wearing bands. Green and pink?"

"Green is Freddie. Pretty much everyone has a green band," I joked and Alex sniggered. "Pink is actually for Chris, so you can't have seen those very often."

"Does Chris know about the bands?"

"Yea, but he's a sub." (As a sub, not a slave, Chris has full control over activities he takes part in.)

Alex nodded in acknowledgement, then cupped my face. "Do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Never tell me who has red bands."

I grinned. "I swear, I'll never tell." I glanced at the band sat innocently in the counter. "I assume that's John's?"

"Yea."

"Well, you're always gonna know when he's inside you anyway."

Alex snorted. "Very true."

I picked the band up. "He'll need it back. Are you still happy to play this afternoon?"

Alex's snort this time was derisive. "Of course. Give me ten minutes to shower."

I nodded and moved towards the kettle. "No problem. Don't bother getting dressed."

I laughed as Alex went instantly hard and scowled at me, before hobbling towards the bathroom.

So, so easy!

-X

Today's game was actually Chris' idea. He wanted to be able to take it easy and snuggle with Curtis, but Will had been moaning about wanting something new, and Chris suggested this. I guess he thinks in visuals.

Will's response, according to Kerry, was, 'Gross. That's fucking perverted. Let's do it.'

Therefore, it was with evil delight that I secured Alex to a frame in the library. Spread backwards, his throat was a perfect fucking height. Blindfolded, he had no idea who was going to use his mouth.

(In case anyone is wondering how safe this is. Anyone wanting to partake in in oral or penetrative sex had been screened. Tests up to date. A questionnaire and a physical examination.

It's not uncommon for participants to be pulled prior to an activity. Including subs. Often it is over-caution, but our medical team do not take any chances.

You're generally a little safer with oral sex, but please do make sure your partner's are clean, well, and tested, people.)

I had led a naked Alex into a room with about sixty people. As always, two-thirds were there to watch. Although anyone can come and play.

Blow jobs and sex are more restricted.

Even as I secured the strap around Alex's waist and moved to spread and fasten his legs and ankles, Will came forward and started to open Alex up, fingers slick with lube.

We all grinned as Alex's, already hard, cock bounced and reached for the ceiling.

Hands started to play with Alex's balls and cock. Twisting and pinching his nipples. Flicking crops lightly against his chest and abs. Ungagged, he moaned, laughed, and begged for more.

When he was wide open, and slicked up, Will (who knew what was going to happen, whereas Alex had no idea) was restrained and blindfolded. His hands cuffed behind his back, linked to a collar. His dick and balls also collared and weighted.

Uncomfortable, but that was really just for fun and to turn us all on, he could move relatively freely, and he needed to be able to bend.

Kerry held him, vibrating with anticipation, by the collar and wrists as the games began.

I settled on the couch next to Curtis and Chris. They were smiling, excited, but happy to watch and cuddle.

John wandered in, red band in place, and sat next to us. Pulling Curtis slightly against him and rubbing his shoulder. We had all been shaken by events, and were all a little clingy around Curtis. He was still in 'appreciating the comfort' mode, but that wouldn't last long.

Alex was quickly spit-roasted. One of his favourite positions. The blow job went faster than the fucking, as Master Diego was kind enough to let his ass adjust. Anyway, this wasn't about hard fucking tonight.

Master Henry was in his mouth. We have some amazing mouths at the manor, but not many can take you as deep as Alex. John trained him, and John is BIG. But also Alex is a large man, so there is just more room, basically.

We were close enough to see the ridge of cock deep in Alex's throat, and his convulsive attempts to swallow.

I personally love the way his arms strain against the binds, and his abs flex and shudder as he struggles to breathe.

He has a clever tongue and a willing manner, so it was only a few minutes before Master Henry was cumming. Pulling back slightly and giving clear instructions not to swallow.

He spilled into Alex's mouth. Over his tongue and lips. Alex stayed, head back, mouth open and let himself be used. Holding the position when Henry backed off. Although he had to swallow a little, or choke.

Kerry moved Will forward now and the hum of conversation grew louder. Will bent and was guided towards an unwitting Alex.

Lips met and then Will was eagerly licking, sucking, and kissing the cum from Alex's mouth.

I grinned when Alex flinched and jumped in surprise.

He's been kissed before in games, but it's usually more friendly and fun.

This was a deep and dirty tongue fucking, as Will searched deep for every trace of cum he could find.

I couldn't wait to see Alex's reaction when we told him who had been cum hunting in his mouth. There was a real risk the embarrassment may actually kill him.

Will had finished, been pulled back, and the next cock was deep in Alex's throat before Master Diego filled his condom and pulled out. The next lining up. And on it went.

Alex had been ass fucked four times, and Will's tummy must have been getting full from seven cum loads, when I stepped up to take my turn.

After covering, I just happened to slide into his ass, just as Will was pulled back and the next master cupped his chin.

As I bottomed out and my balls hit Alex's butt, he grinned, croaking "Hi, Honey!" in a rough voice and making everyone laugh.

He always knows when it's me.

I laughed as well and took him in hand to bring him off as the next dick gagged him.

I moved slow, so was still deep in my husband's ass when John took his turn at the other end.

Alex recognized him, of course. Not just the size, but also the preparation and the way John held him in position.

Everyone crowded round, as there is something obscenely fascinating about watching John's oversized dick ease down Alex's throat.

Someone once suggested it was like when a snake swallows a frog, which is not a bad description. If you're into snakes, or frogs.

I finished with my snake (What? You expected me to ignore that!), and lazily rubbed my thumbs over Alex's damp thighs as he choked, begged, and struggled under John's assault.

John pulled out before cumming and grinned at Alex's complaint. "Why are you stopping?" Actually it was more like "Why, staplp?" but you get the gist.

"Need to cover up and change ends," John rumbled into his ear.

We all laughed as Alex gasped and flooded over his own stomach. I was amazed he could still cum.

"Wow. Good timing, that's gonna be sensitive!" Small amounts of fluid were still leaking from Alex's quivering cock when John pushed in, and Alex made the most delicious groan of absolute overwhelm and submission.

I moved and stroked Alex's damp hair as everyone else moved to eyeball his ass being stretched.

It is impressive, and there was a surprisingly orderly line of people taking their turn to place their palms on Alex's lower abdomen and feel John moving inside.

Tonight wasn't about rough play, and John was close, so it was over after half a dozen smooth thrusts.

Everyone held themselves quiet as I removed Alex's blindfold and he looked around. Smiling, shaking, and eager to see who had been playing the game with him.

When Kerry moved Will forward, and Will bent to place a cute, over-puckered, peck to Alex's lips, the astounded look on his face made the entire room erupt in cheers, laughter, and applause.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Alex complained hoarsely, before sticking his tongue out as far ass it would go, like he wanted to remove it from his mouth.

Then he started laughing.

-X

Sunday was a lazy day. Starting with a leisurely breakfast.

Casey had joined us, so I liberated Keira from the Voyeurs room and tucked all three of my slaves firmly into their tails.

Shey and I had a fun afternoon teasing and playing in the pool.

Alex came out of his tail early so he could take Casey, still in her tail, as Shey enjoyed Keira.

These days Alex is pretty much my proxy when it comes to fucking the girls, a situation we are all very happy with.

Casey, of course, is no longer my slave. But she's still my sub and still enjoys and needs use from time to time. Both her, and her husband Paul, are happier that it is usually Alex.

We were still all wrinkly with damp hair when Sadie, Keira, and Shey said their thanks and goodbyes and went back to London.

It was that time of day. There was a small procession of cars heading down the driveway. Thankfully, they don't all head in the same direction (there are less cars than there used to be. Sadie offers generous discounts for people who car-pool).

John and Sadie invited us for drinks, when they realized we were staying over, but Alex explained that he had plans for me, and linking our fingers he walked me away. John and Sadie's "Ohhhhh. Someone's in trouble!" following us up the stairs.

"Am I? In trouble?" I asked as I was guided into the bedroom.

Alex simply smiled and kissed me.

We kissed and stripped. Ending up with Alex gently stroking our cocks together in one hand as we both shivered and giggled with building need.

"Okay then," Alex eventually said. I looked up from watching his hand, eager to know what he had planned for me. "I want to lay you on the bed so I can cuff your wrists and ankles spread-eagle. Then I want to take my time with you. I'll take whatever I want, all night long." His eyes searched mine for a reaction.

"Yes."

He grinned. "That's it? Just yes."

"I already promised to say yes," I reminded him.

Alex's grin widened and he simply waved a hand at the bed, turning to the drawer where the restraints were kept.

I crawled on, arranged the pillows so I was comfortable, because I was sure Alex would take his time, and then watched as Alex knee-walked on to the bed to join me.

"Spread'em," he demanded in his best cowboy. Which, for the record, is rubbish. He speaks more than eight languages, but accents... not so much.

I offered my wrists for the cuffs and then raised my arms above my head. Alex quickly securing me to the bed. I wriggled a bit to make sure I was comfy, as he moved to my feet and was promptly secured. Wide, open, and helpless. I shivered again and bit my lip.

Alex moved back up and then straddled me. Sitting on my waist. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his hands sweeping over my pecs and chest. I nodded. "Fuck, I love all your bumpy bits," he breathed and I laughed.

I'm not that bumpy, but a little more defined than Alex. Alex is lean, sculpted and a swimmer. I'm broader and a weight-lifter, our body shapes are different.

"I love your hands on me," I told him. Humming when he pressed a little harder. Alex's hands are never cold. Always warm, sometimes hot. Soft and firm when they explore my body.

Placing his hands on my chest, Alex let me take his weight as he leaned over for a kiss. I grunted softly into his mouth. He raised enough to look seriously into my eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Leslie."

"I know that, sweetheart."

Now he let me take his weight full length as he kissed me again. Our legs tangled, cocks nestled together, hard stomachs flush, his smooth skin against my scattering of hair. His hands stroked the cuffs on my wrists, as I took deep breaths around the kiss, squished underneath him.

His lips moved over my face to my neck. "When was the last time you were restrained?"

I dragged in another breath, a shudder moving through me. "Not since," I cleared my throat. "I was twenty-five."

Alex nodded against my skin. He knew all about the time I had fucked up royally and been punished 'manor style' on Sadie's orders.

She had since apologized, but actually, I think it made me a better master.

"You only have to ask if you need out," Alex told me. "No safe words needed here."

I turned my head to search for a kiss. "I'm okay," I murmured against his lips. "I'm excited. I want you."

Alex placed his hands flat on the mattress and pushed back up, looking down at me with a smirk. "You're nervous," he accused.

Damn him. He knows me too well.

"I'm nervous and excited," I clarified.

He laughed and let his eyes coast over me, as his fingers travelled the ridges of my abs. (I work hard on those BTW. I am in my forties now, with a younger and super delicious husband. Gotta keep him interested!)

"Jesus, Leslie. Why have we never done this before?"

I grinned at him, but honestly. If he thought this was going to be a regular occurrence he needed to think again.

His lips followed his hands over my skin.

Well, I guessed it wasn't too bad.

Maybe on my birthday. Or the occasional bank holiday.

When his mouth kissed and nibbled over my hip bone and the base of my cock, before coasting over my balls, I wriggled with a half laughed, "Ah, Ah, Ah, Ouch, Haha!"

"Why are you yelping?" Alex grumbled, without lifting his head.

"You need a shave."

Alex snorted, his breath hot on my skin. He looked up, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement. "You have a very low pain tolerance don't you, my sweet?"

"Fuck you," I replied in my tender, most loving, voice. Then, "Oh, Shit. Fuck! Bastard." As a grinning Alex gently rubbed his cheeks on the delicate skin of my inner thigh.

He laughed again and licked my balls. Long, wet sweeps of his tongue until I was begging for his mouth on my cock.

I was trembling before he relented and took me deep for two hard sucks, before bite-kissing his way back up my body.

Gently snapping at my nipples with his sharp teeth before splaying himself all over me again, my cock desperately nudging against his. Like his cock was going to grow a pair of hands and jack me off.

Alex braced and smiled down at me. "How ya doing?"

I frowned and pouted. "Are you planning on getting your mouth on me any time soon?"

"I've had my mouth all over you, Leslie."

"You know what I mean," I grumped.

Sniggering a little, Alex ducked his head and swiped his tongue, in one wet lick, across my lips. Which was unexpected and totally, well.

Weird.

"Guess I know what to expect if we ever get a puppy," I commented, my nose wrinkling.

Chuckling, Alex worked his way back down my body. Kisses and licks and bites. I swear I was wetter than I had been in the pool.

Alex had collected some lube from somewhere, and now started to spear me gently as he went back to exploring my balls and the base of my neglected cock. I shivered and moaned, begging him to speed up. Threats and pleas, as a second, then a third finger was added.

Finally. Finally, he took me in his mouth. I arched as best I could in encouragement.

I deteriorated fast from that point. My hips pumping, despite my restricted movement, as Alex hummed, sucked and licked me to oblivion. Groaning a desperate, "I love you, I love you," as I came and Alex took it all.

I shuddered, half giggling, from head to foot when he let me fall from his lips.

He still had three fingers deep inside me.

"Okay?" he asked softly.

"So good."

Alex slipped his fingers out and wiped them on the sheet, before moving up a little. Reaching to untie my wrists, but gently moving my hands to rest on the pillow above my head.

"I want you keep your hands there, okay?"

I nodded.

With my favourite smile. The one that says he loves me, and can't get enough of me, Alex released my ankles and took the cuffs off.

I dragged in a deep breath as he flexed my legs, then pushed them back, exposing my hole.

I nodded again, and then closed my eyes and moaned loudly as he nudged against me.

Alex pushed me a little harder, to open me up, and then gently slid deep. "Hmmmm, you feel so good," he mumbled. Then tapped my shin in a signal to wrap my legs around his waist.

I wallowed in several deep, claiming, borderline painful, thrusts, before gripping my legs tighter and opening my eyes.

Alex was braced above me, his hands each side of my chest, almost under my arms. He was smiling into my eyes, a light sheen of sweet damping his hair, which as always was tumbling almost into his eyes.

"Hey," he smiled. His voice breathless as he thrust faster, seeing me relax.

"Can I move my hands?"

"No," he gave me a superior smirk. Then his expression moved through concern to a reassuring smile as he saw I was struggling. "Of course you can, my love. Whatever you need."

I quickly moved to grip one hand on his shoulder, the other over his back, neck, and hair.

"I needed to touch you."

"It's okay," he bent for a kiss. Whispering, "Touch me," against my lips.

I dragged him down. Taking his weight. Six-four of lean, muscled hunk, crushing and pounding me into the mattress.

Alex lifted slightly to slip his hands under my ass and push me up a little. My legs were locked around him, our arms around each other, kissing and breathing into each other's mouths as we thrust, rocked and ground our way to release.

I was gasping as Alex filled me and then totally relaxed, smushing me thoroughly.

"Oh, God!" I groaned.

"Nah, just me," he panted into my neck, triggering us both into laughter.

Finally we parted (before the cum sealed us together like Gorilla Glue!). "You okay?" Alex checked, his eyes serious on mine.

"Perfectly ravished," I assured him. My heart skipping hard in my chest when his eyes crinkled with his pleased smile. (No need to call 999, or 911 you lot over the pond. It always does that).

I received another soft kiss and a whispered, "Shower."

-X

A few weeks later Alex and I went down early to the manor. Alex had some tenant meetings and slipping in muck to do. He loved getting his hands dirty.

I had some serious lounging around and maybe some added lazing on my schedule.

Not my style, but my PA had ganged up with Sadie, Alex, and the manor medical team after I had been under the weather and coming down with literally everything for a few months.

"Exhaustion is a thing," I had been told and showed the blood tests to prove it, so had been told to take a few days. Swim, play, relax, and maybe even nap (only when snuggled up to Alex).

I had rather been burning the candles both ends, what with wrapping up the US side of the business, dealing with the threat in the UK, and then everything with Curtis, so I gave in gracefully.

Okay, that's a lie. I may have sulked and grumped a little, but eventually gave in when Alex pulled the emotional blackmail card.

I love tears in his eyes when he's submitting, but seeing him glisten-up because he was worried about me had me promising the moon and stars in a second. Little bastard played me!

Of course, the best laid plans often go to pot, and within ten minutes of kissing Alex goodbye on the Wednesday afternoon, him trotting away to one of the farms. I was still unpacking and sipping coffee when Sadie came in with a problem.

"What's wrong?" I asked, after hugging her soundly.

"I'm really worried about Karen. There's something going on, but she won't talk to me or John."

I frowned. Mistress Karen, or Dr Karen Hensley when not dominating at the manor, is one of our more flamboyant members.

She mostly lives at the manor. Officially her address is with her sister, but she only stays there two or three nights a week. The rest of the time she stays here. We are her safe space. Karen has not had the easiest life.

She's very welcome, in fact, as her hobby (other than running her naked mud wrestling girls), is gardening. She and Owen are good friends, both uncomfortable in usual social situations they get on well, and if someone if happier here than out in the world, why would I force them out.

I made Sadie a tea and listened as she told me her concerns and Karen's strange behaviour. As I listened I also thought about how I had come to know Karen.

She had been a client of Curtis'. He never takes on many paying clients, but if it's interesting enough.

He had never met the mysterious Dr Hensley, she was quite the recluse. However, he had some papers to deliver and was excited to finally put a face to the voice on the phone.

"She's very softly spoken," Curtis explained as I drove him to the small apartment block. We were going to lunch afterwards. "Quite hesitant. Took me ages to draw her out. But she's really funny and when she laughs. Her laugh."

He stopped and I glanced at him quizzically. "What about her laugh?"

"It's sexy. Makes me tingle."

"You changing sides, Curtis?" I sniggered.

"That's the thing. When she laughs, I swear she sounds like a man."

I pulled into the parking space and turned the engine off. "Well, doctor is a genderless title."

"Oh no, her sister is 'her' this, and 'my sister' that, and I've seen pictures at her house. Definitely a women. But twice the size of Sue."

"The sister?"

"Yea." Curtis looked at me. "Sorry to make you wait here. I shouldn't be too long."

"It's fine. You said she's nervous. Anyway, it's confidential."

Curtis gave me a wave and was gone. I sat and checked email on my phone, jumping slightly when it rang just over five minutes later. "Curtis?"

"Can you come up? Number 526."

Intrigued, a few minutes later I met Curtis outside the door.

"She's not answering," Curtis said. "Which is odd. And the door is unlocked. I wanted a witness to go in."

I pushed the door so a sliver of light showed through the crack. "Are you sure it was unlocked. I know some of your colleagues rehabilitated clients have shown you extra uses for credit cards!"

"We tried the door. It was open." Curtis said firmly, giving me his 'shut the fuck up' look. Before adding under his breath, "And a child could pick this lock."

I'll tell you something. It's a good job he didn't decide to be a criminal.

"Dr Hensley? Karen?" Curtis pushed the door open and eased in, calling loudly. "Karen, it's Curtis Nash, here for our meeting at ten-thirty."

I moved in behind him looking around. The space was small but clean. Cluttered, and homely.

We glanced at each other and I shrugged. Curtis moved towards the bedroom and I to the kitchen. Passing a large couch pushed close to a gas fire. The flat was chilly, but it was much warmer here.

My heart stammered when I saw the large lady sprawled on the couch. It was obvious something was wrong, but I was relieved to see her chest move with a shallow breath.

There was a mug of coffee spilled on the floor near a small table.

Least of my worries. "CURTIS!" I yelled, slamming off the fire and spinning to the patio doors which lead to one of those fake balconies. There were just a couple of empty pots shoehorned in there.

The chilly breeze rushed in as I opended the doors and turned to Curtis as he ran over. "Carbon Monoxide. Help me shift the couch over." We huffed and puffed as we dragged the couch to the open doors, then Curtis dialled 999 with one hand while slamming windows open with the other and finally dragging the old fire into the bedroom and shutting the door.

I couldn't get a response other than a faint moan and called my friend Hazel. One of our manor nurses who lived nearby.

"Hey. Leslie. Whasup?" she panted when she answered.

"Hazel, where are you?"

"Out for." Pant. " A run."

"Are you anywhere near Rozley Gardens?"

"Right next to it. Why?"

"Number 526, suspected Carbon Monoxide poisoning, no response, we've dialled 999."

"On my way," the line went dead.

Cutis was off the phone as well. "Fresh air, nothing else to do as we can't smell gas."

We continued to try and bring Karen round, but couldn't get more then vague mumbles.

Hazel rushed in just ahead of the paramedics. One of who, it seemed she knew.

I moved towards a phone in a cradle, half listening to Curtis explain he had spoken to her just after nine, and maybe she had sounded a little sleepy, but not ill.

Picking up the phone I checked 'last number'. It said Sue. I dialled.

"Hi Karen. You okay, I thought you had your meeting?"

"Hi, are you Sue. Are you Karen's sister?"

"Who is this?"

I walked back towards the paramedics. "My name is Leslie, I'm a friend of Curtis, your sister's lawyer. We have paramedics here, found her unresponsive. Please don't panic, I think they're getting somewhere, but can I put you on speaker for a medical history?"

"Oh my God. Oh shit. Yes, of course. Hello?"

I hit speaker and held the phone close to the paramedics. "This is Sue. Karen's sister."

The paramedics happily took Karen's medical history and reassured Sue as best they could. It helped when Karen suddenly came up swinging, cursing, and slurring.

Hazel stepped in and managed to calm her a little. Sue advising on the phone that Karen really would not want to go to hospital.

Thankfully, Hazel had trained with one of the paramedics. "Didn't like being stuck on a ward," he told me. "Moved sideways, this is much more interesting." At least he was happy that we had all we needed at the manor to take care of her.

With Sue's permission, describing the manor as a kind of social club. And Hazel's boyfriend, who had been running with her, dashing off to pack her bag, we had our semi-conscious patient tucked up in bed just over an hour later. With oxygen, to give her a boost.

Thankfully, our minder, Frank, had been onsite, as Karen is a statuesque woman. I don't think we would have got her upstairs without his help.

This was all well before I met Alex. Karen and I have been good friends ever since. Everyone at the manor loves her. She gave up her flat and moved back with her sister, but being here most of the time is an arrangement that works well.

Still, if my cousin was concerned, then so was I.

-X

I knocked and waited before knocking again and yelling.

After about fifteen minutes, Karen finally got the idea I wasn't giving up.

I followed her into her room, which is like a small flat, and tried not to stare, but I was shocked.

I knew Karen had been forced by a brutal and abusive father to live 'male' until she ran away at sixteen.

I knew she had never transitioned. No drugs or surgery, as she had a phobia and couldn't even take paracetamol. She had simply started living as a woman, her true self, at sixteen.

I had never seen her unshaven before. To the best of my knowledge no one had. Karen shaves three times a day, and takes spectacular care of her skin.

She stood, eyes exhausted, a faint shadow on her chin, still in her pyjamas and eyed me.

"I'll make coffee," I said and kissed her temple. Avoiding her cheek so as not to embarrass her. "Shower, shave, get dressed. Then you can tell me what's going on."

She tried to argue, but I did my solo eyebrow raising thing that puts the fear of god into my interns.

Karen pouted, huffed, then turned and stomped into the bedroom.

When she came back out half an hour later, she looked more herself, but her eyes were wide, scared, and damp.

"Sweetheart," I opened my arms and she fell against me, her shoulders shaking. "Please tell me, whatever it is we can fix it." I rubbed her back and stroked her hair as broken words were mumbled against my shoulder. Words including pee, sleep, and prostate.

Shit.

When the explanation had tumbled out, in no particular order, and Karen pulled away to wipe her eyes and blow her nose (that which wasn't already soaked into my sweater, which was going straight in the wash), I rose to make fresh coffee and then took her arms, looking into her swollen red eyes.

"You're not a stupid woman, Karen. If you were you would have ignored the symptoms. And these tests are usually to rule stuff out, not rule it in. In most cases."

"I know," she sniffled and wiped her eyes again. "But having the tests, and another examination, and there's a camera. And strangers." The last was a whisper.

"I've had a cystoscopy," I told her, my lips twitching when she looked up in shock. "Similar symptoms. It's a bit weird, but won't hurt. And scans don't hurt."

"Are you okay?"

I took her hands and rubbed them before placing her coffee back in them. "Yea. Alex found a lump last year. I had a load of tests, it was all benign. They took the lump, so now I have a tiny scar on my left bollock and a husband who insists on thoroughly checking my balls pretty much every day."

I sipped my own coffee and grinned. "It's actually quite fun."

Karen laughed a bit, but then her face darkened. "But I hate it," she said, her voice harsh.

I knew what she meant. I've always been lucky with my health and I also work hard for it, but I've always enjoyed my body. Karen had never been comfortable in her own skin, and that's a hard thing.

"Karen. You know I can't understand. How can I? I'm a gay man. Cocks are one of my best things." I was pleased when she snorted a laugh. "But I don't have to share your personal experience to share your pain. Or to love and support you. Okay?"

I got a tearful nod.

"Where are your tests?" She mentioned a London hospital. "Would it be easier if I talk with my consultant, take you private. We can get you in early in the day, get it all done at once, and keep the amount of new people you meet to a minimum. Would that help?"

The look of hope and relief in her eyes broke me. She went blurry as my own eyes filled and my throat closed. "Shit, there goes my man-card," I complained.

Karen giggled and pulled me in for another hug. "It's okay, you can borrow one of my frocks," she teased.

-X

It was an infection. Karen dealt admirably with her appointments and my consultant was a gem.

Sadie went with her for the tests, and Alex and I for the results.

Then we went back to ours and all got pissed. Karen doesn't like being in new environments so it was Alex's cooking and my champagne.

Shey, Keira, Chris, and Curtis joined us, and even totally drunk, Karen managed to whip all our arses at poker.

Then we thought up a forfeit for Shey who had lost the most.

The forfeit. Karen's idea, and we weren't gonna tell her no, was Shey versus her mud wrestling gals.

Or naked lesbian mud wrestling with added Shey, would be another way to describe it.

Karen's girls, who are a couple, are very popular at the manor, and certainly it's always good for a laugh. They sub for Karen, only Karen, and like her are very uncomfortable around new people. Especially men.

Thankfully, all three have been at the manor so long now that they have no worries, and are just a little shy around new members. Long term members are extremely protective of them, so it always works out okay, with a little time and patience.

Naked ladies, lovely though they are, don't do anything for me, even covered in mud. But I was crying with laughter as they allowed Shey into their sacred mud bath (Karen calls it a wallow!) and ganged up to try and get his shorts off.

He was only wearing swim shorts and the game was very simple. Survive fifteen minutes without losing his shorts.

Might sound easy, given that he has martial arts skills to rival Alex's, but sadly he was far too gentlemanly to apply them.

Boobs bounced, butts were bared, and everyone slipped and slid around as Shey wriggled like a stranded fish trying to push the girls back, without touching anything inappropriate, and keep a tight hold of his shorts at the same time.

All while choking with laughter.

Soon, Sandy and Candy (their manor names, not their real names. We have a few people who use 'stage names'), who went easier on him than they do on each other, had him in a headlock, half smothered with Candy's tits. Sandy smacked his hands away and ripped the shorts off.

At this point, Keira and Alex, no longer able to support each other, sank to the ground in helpless hysterics. And they weren't alone.

I've never actually seen Shey naked before. He's rather easy in the eyes, I have to say (lucky Keira), and was hard as rock.

Why wouldn't he be? He's straight, and there he was covered in mud and naked ladies.

The whole thing took just under eight minutes, and Keira won the pool at closest guess of eight point six seconds. (Shey had been quite offended!)

Eighty-five quid richer, she was well pleased. Until Shey, having finally gained his feet and stopped laughing, managed to grab her and then they both needed a shower.

Still grinning, I looked Alex up and down as he wandered over. Still smirking, flushed with mirth, and with a very large bulge tenting his loose 'sub' pants.

No surprise. For him that was an all you can eat buffet.

"That was fun," he grinned, leaning in so he could rub against my leg and gain a little relief, disguising it as a cheeky smooch. "I had no idea Shey was built like that."

I nodded in agreement and idly cupped him, enjoying his hiss as I looked past his shoulder towards the patio.

"Oh look," I said, giving him a loving squeeze. "The stocks are free!"

To be continued.

-X

If you are thinking... what the hell, when was Curtis shot? You need to read 'Blackmail'. A standalone from Jan 2025.