an excerpt

Chapter One

"But, Lieutenant Farrell, I don't quite understand. Why do you want to set up here as a private investigator?"

I looked at the stocky man sitting at his mahogany desk across from me. He was still smiling, but looked puzzled. Bruce Taylor was in his fifties, in very good physical condition, and as far as I could judge, an important PI in Palm Springs--and I needed his help and advice.

"I recently retired from the LAPD, Mr. Taylor..."

"Bruce, please."

I flashed a smile back.

"If you'll call me Mark, please. As I was saying, Bruce, my partner Dan and I recently retired from the ranks of homicide detectives in the LAPD and want to bring our years of professional experience into the private sector. We thought that we would set up as private detectives and investigators. We know we have a lot to learn. We've applied for licenses from the California Bureau of Investigative and Security Services, and this morning Dan is applying for a local license to carry a concealed weapon."

"But why here in the Palm Springs area? Why not in Los Angeles where, I'm sure, you know the city well and have most of your contacts?"

I decided I'd better be frank if I was to persuade Bruce Taylor to help us.

"Well, I'm not sure how closely you follow the trials and court cases around Southern California, but we've been involved in a rather sensational case or series of cases recently."

"Farrell--I think I remember the trials. What was that group or gang called?"

"Group7. We were the two principal police officers involved."

"Yes, of course, Mark. They seemed to be an unsavory pack of businessmen with too much money, too much spare time, and some rather kinky tastes, if I remember. And you two were in the center of it, together with my friend Manning Thompson. I think I begin to understand. You're now looking for something less--is 'destructive' the right word?"

"I think that's a very good choice. Yes, the case came too close to home when one of the accused kidnapped my young daughter and insisted on an unusual personal ransom from me in the form of a"

"Yes, the trial made all the tabloids, but you and your partner--Fortunato, is that right?--received high commendations, if I'm remembering correctly. So why resign now?"

I took the plunge again.

"Because of the notoriety my personal life became entangled with my professional one. My ten-year-old daughter's life was seriously endangered. Even my mother-in-law Edith, who lives with us and looks after us all, became concerned. The health and well-being of Dan and I had been compromised. We felt we needed to get away, and try a different career."

Bruce had been nodding sympathetically, then hesitated as something else occurred to him.

"I'm not quite sure how to phrase this, Mark, but I believe there was another element in your decision to change jobs and cities?"

I managed to smile. It might as well come out into the open now rather than later.

"I assume you're referring to the fact that we are both gay men and have become partners in our private lives as well as our chosen profession. Yes, some of that did come out at the trials as well as some of the kinky practices of the accused. All of which made for good tabloid fodder and titillation."

"Must've made it difficult to resume your police work."

"No one mentioned resignation, but I felt Dan and I would always be the subject of finger-pointing and snickering comments around the water cooler. Plus the damage it could continue to shower on my family and our personal lives as well as my job. So we've retired with honor, taken our pensions, and now want to invest in something where we can make use of our expertise--ten years or more each in law enforcement and the military."

Bruce leant across his desk, looking me right in the eye.

"It seems a sensible change of profession, although private investigation is becoming a crowded field with many veterans of law enforcement, like me, already established and newcomers hustling to get a start. Still, you're both young enough..."

"I'm just thirty-three and Dan is coming on twenty-nine. And we were considered hot shit at our jobs."

He chuckled. The tension I felt began to lift, but I still needed his expert help.

"Yes, Manning Thompson gave you a very good reference--how you saved his life and all that. So how can I help you?"

"We're going through all the hoops to get ourselves accredited and set up as a company, but I believe we both seriously need some practical experience as private detectives and investigators--starting near the bottom--as 'grunts' or corporals. We would like to 'intern' with you and your company for, say, a month to get our feet wet and learn how you do things around here. We'd be glad to pay our way."

Bruce looked startled for a minute, then laughed and banged the table with his meaty fist.

"Fuck, Mark, I don't need your money. But maybe we could use a couple of additional experienced brains and brawn for a few weeks. It won't be high profile or glamorous, but I think we can give you some idea of the range of work we take on. You'll start near the bottom, and we'll see what our team and I can teach you both. Shake?"

We both stood up and solemnly shook our hairy paws together.

"When can you start, Mark?"

"We need about a week to finalize our permits and licenses and to work out some of our accommodation needs."

He consulted his phone diary. "Let's see, Labor Day weekend is coming up in ten days' time. How about the Tuesday after Labor Day? We start at nine o'clock, unless we're on a case."

"Great. I'm familiar with that kind of time-table. Thank you. I'm very grateful, and we won't be in your way."

"Oh, I'll make sure of that. Now, let me check if I've got your cell numbers."

Bruce Taylor's willingness to help us this way was a great relief, and I marched out of his downtown Palm Springs office humming to myself. It was hot outside--about one hundred five degrees--probably a normal temperature here for the end of August. But Palm Springs looked wonderful, with the mountains all around it and a few small clouds lazing in an azure blue sky. So I stripped off my jacket and loosened my tie. My fingers speed-dialed Dan's number.

"Hi, detective, how's your morning going?"

"Hey there, boss. Okay. You'll have to go to the PD yourself for your weapons permits, but they did give me the forms. And Dick, our realtor, has arranged for me to see another house this afternoon. How did the interview go that Manning arranged for you?"

"Terrific. We're going to be PI interns in ten days' time. I just hope our licenses come through in time. How about some lunch?"

"Fuck, boss, I've arranged to have a sandwich with two of the local detectives. I'm trying to get to know our local law enforcement colleagues."

"Okay. No prob. I've got some errands to run anyway. See you this evening?"

Dan's voice dropped low. "You won't forget this is one of your service nights?"

"No, Sir, of course I remember. I'll get myself ready for your use, Sir."

"Good boy. Until later, lover-man." His voice had become husky and promising.

Some men in our small circle of gay and leather friends found it difficult to accept the way our sexual relationship had developed, but for Dan and I, it seemed both necessary and needed in 2009.

When I finally got home, I showered straightaway and cleaned myself inside and out, douching a couple of times as Dan insisted. I lubed my passage carefully then painstakingly worked the latest rubber plug up into my asshole. I grunted as it finally sank home.

We were staying once again in the casita of Manning Thompson's Palm Springs vacation home. He was certainly generous with his hospitality, I think partly because it gave him the excuse to come down for weekends and to keep an eye on me and the possibilities for rough sex like we'd enjoyed on our dirty weekend last winter in New York, escaping from his danger and my conscience. But he had no future possibilities there now.

I had to hurry. Dan would be home by five, and I had to be ready and in position to avoid punishment on my nights of service to my Master.

My leather harness seemed to be all buckles. I started to sweat even in the air-conditioning. I hastily grabbed the brush to polish up my low black boots before I tugged them on over my white socks and laced them up.

Shit, that thick titanium cock-ring Dan had given me--where the fuck was it? I'd taken it off after our last session. I found it in the top drawer in the bedroom. It was tight; I needed a little lube to squeeze it over my cock and balls. Snug. Now everything but me was in position. Five minutes to go.

I knelt down in the living room, more or less naked, knees spread as wide as possible and hands clasped behind my back. Master Dan didn't like me hooded to start with. I needed my tongue loose to lick his boots. Head up, eyes looking down. What about the fucking tit clamps? Master hadn't said that I had to put them on. But I better tease and pull on my tits to get them erect for him.

Fuck, I didn't need to be so nervous. I'd done all of this before and I hoped to be doing it, or something like it, for the rest of my life. I wanted to be his sub. I wanted and needed a tough loving Master. I didn't lose my masculinity in serving Master Dan. Frankly, I thought my complete active submission enhanced it.

I heard the Harley in the driveway, then the key in the lock. Pull my shoulders back; get that furry chest on display. My Master, my lover, my man was home. His boy, his submissive, his man was ready to serve him.

With my eyes lowered, I could see only his Wescoes and his jeans crossing the floor towards me, and stopping in front of me. My cock jerked eagerly, extending itself, hard, between my spread legs.

Master Dan chuckled. "Good boy. All prepared for an evening of service and games."

"Sir, yes, Sir."

He raised one boot. The sole trapped my boner firmly and drove it down to the floor. I hissed and shuddered, but kept my place.

"Lean up, boy. You may use your hands to unbutton my 501s and bring out my package. Then you know what to do. Breathe in my sweat, and work my prick and Prince Albert."

The way our sex play had expanded over the previous eight months had been an amazing surprise to both of us, I think. Almost immediately in our relationship Dan had established his dominance, while I, as the relatively newbie submissive in male sex, sweated and struggled to learn my part. I had finally fully submitted and committed myself to him at the beginning of the year.

Since then, we had made time for regular training for me and regular fucks and other pleasures for him. In the midst of the turmoil of dealing with the criminal activities of Group7 members that had churned up our professional lives as members of the LAPD, our private sex lives gave us release and balance. We both knew it and relished it.

"Fuck, stop daydreaming, boy. Get that mouth closed more firmly around my dick and get your saliva coating my stick properly."

He thrust in more vigorously and I swallowed the hard metal of the piercing in the head of his cock, named after Britain's Prince Albert and commonly known as a PA. I tried to relax enough to prevent myself from gagging. Shit, I'd had enough training in taking him, shaft as well as the exciting PA attachment. I focused on my role and my mind started slipping into its proper sub space. I felt a surge of endorphins and slobbered harder over my Master's tool.

Dan was moaning more frequently, pulling my head into his crotch and rumpling my short tawny hair. Encouraged, I worked faster. Responding, his boot pressed harder on my penis already pinned to the floor. Eventually he gasped and pulled back. "Right, that's enough of that. Shit, you're becoming a real good cock sucker. But I want my dick up your ass this evening. You've prepared yourself properly?"

"Sir, yes, Sir. I'm always hopeful, Sir."

He chuckled again. "Help me out of these clothes and we'll move into the bedroom. It's been too many days and I need to take you hard."

I quickly pulled off his Wescos and jeans. Yes, he'd worn briefs today--maybe since he had spent the day in the 'straight' worlds of law enforcement and house hunting. He shucked off his jacket then his T-shirt; we looked at one another naked for a moment with pleasure and smiled in satisfaction.

That dark Italian complexion and killer smile of Dan's set my cock raging and my ass twitching every time. I was taller, heavier, furrier, but he had conquered my body and my spirit over the past months.

"Okay, fur-ball, up on the bed on your fucking back. No restraints tonight. I'm taking you full-tilt. So--into position, raise those meaty legs, and let's see how well plugged you are."

"Sir, yes, Sir. I'm also clean, lubed, and ready for your power weapon, Sir."

He was trying hard to look stern and forbidding, but those brown eyes were glazing over with lust and the new mustache was quivering almost as much as his pre-cum dripping cock. His knees sank down onto the bed around my body; he pulled my legs up over his shoulders, pulled out my plug, spat once into my winking hole, and pushed in. I was ready and hungry for him. We'd had to abstain for several days and we were silently telegraphing our need to one another.

I began to sweat as usual as I felt his pole moving up my well lubed passage. I sighed with pleasure as he pulled me further onto his rod, and I clenched my muscles to let him know. He reached up to twist my nipples and, as I thrashed around, he sank in the last few inches. We were complete and he leaned over to kiss my gasping open mouth.

I responded passionately. This muscle man could turn me on in minutes and I wriggled my body beneath him as he started moving his member up and down my chute. My ass muscles clenched him tightly when I thought he would leave me empty, and then relaxed as he filled my passage again and I sighed and shuddered.

Now Master Dan was sweating and snarling as he rampaged inside me, and my body answered him in turn, demanding that he fuck me full strength. I needed to submit to the powerful master I knew he was. We were breathing heavily, kissing and savagely pulling on each other's tits. My own cock banged between us, thrusting into the empty air.

"I'm going to cum in you, boy. I'm going to blast you to kingdom come, motherfucker."

"I'm ready for you, Sir. I need you to skewer me, to fill me with your seed, so I can worship you with my cream."

Fuck, less than a year ago that shout would've seemed to be an unknown and unthinkable foreign language. Now it was the cry of a needy boy, a six foot two, two hundred and ten pound, furry, needy boy.

His penis pushed me up the bed. I banged my head on the headboard. He came in two gushing loads. I replied in the same way, spewing my jism over my stomach and thighs.

Dan collapsed on top of me, almost crushing the air out of me. I drew breath when he did. His stomach slid across my slowly drying cum. His dick gradually slipped out of me. My legs slid down and he rolled off me.

"Shit, Mark, but you're one hot fuck. I think I want you more each time. Close up and kiss me properly."

We munched on each other's mouths, our tongues slipping in and out and exchanging saliva. Our bodies cooled down in the air-conditioning as we rolled in one another's muscular arms. Outside the shadows lengthened as the sun began to slip behind the San Jacinto Mountains.

"Do you want to go out for dinner tonight, Sir?"

"So you're getting hungry too? No, let's just order a pizza in--and then I can think of some new kinky way for you to serve me. It's our last night to ourselves. You told me we'd need to wrap up the rest of our immediate business tomorrow, then we have to get back to the family in Los Angeles."

Funny to hear him talk about my family as his own now. Little more than eight months ago, we'd just become a professional detective team and he'd been the lone wolf, a newcomer to the LAPD Valley homicide squad, graduating from motor officer, and whose birth family was back in Philadelphia. Now, I suspected that he thought himself more at home in the house I owned in Reseda--the one which had just gone on the market for the move out here to the desert.

My family had made him feel wanted and loved--from my precious ten-year-old daughter, Mary, whose kidnapping had precipitated the final and violent encounter with Erich Sommerfeld, the silent leader of Group7, to my mother-in-law Edith, who had run the house in addition to her full-time position as assistant principal of a nearby middle school. She had come to look after us when Blythe, my wife of six wonderful years, had died in childbirth together with our stillborn son. Edith had helped me deal with our grieving and gradually forced me back into life outside my LAPD duties. More importantly, apparently she had calmly accepted my move into the gay leather world and had welcomed Dan as my male partner when she saw how happy he made me, and how he brought the spark of joy, as well as pain, into our rough-house play together.

Actually it had been Edith's suggestion initially that had led us to consider leaving Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley and to think about Palm Springs and private investigation as a new way of life. With the help of my friend--I should probably also say 'temporary Master last winter'--Manning Thompson, the Los Angeles criminal lawyer, we were in the process of getting our small business set up and a new home established.

As we sat in the small breakfast nook and munched on pizza and salad, we compared notes on our day's activities and checked off the items on our wish list for opening our own operation in Palm Springs.

Dan was not too happy with the slow progress. "It just seems to be taking so long to free ourselves from our responsibilities in Los Angeles."

"Well, there were so many tasks we had to finish--like getting all the Group7 cases ready for the court proceedings."

"Yes, this time I think we've nailed them all, even that bastard Erich von Sommerfeld."

"Let's hope so, but he certainly is a slippery eel and managed to get bail again. Anyway, he's not really our concern anymore, since we've officially retired from the LAPD last month.

"Now how about the house Dick took you to see this afternoon?"

"I think it has real possibilities. There's a detached guesthouse for us alongside the main building. It's an older property, recently rehabbed, in what's called South Palm Springs. Actually it was Manning who suggested it and I asked Dick to look into it, but it isn't yet on the market."

Good old Manning Thompson, our friendly, almost too friendly, attorney in Los Angeles, who seemed to have his fingers in so many pies and who always wanted to "help", partly to keep tabs on me.

"You want me to come and look at the house with you then? We could do it tomorrow before driving back to LA."

"Yeah, I'll call Dick now while you're cleaning up and getting yourself back into "service" mode for the rest of the evening."

I grinned, leaning over to kiss him heartily. Dan slapped my naked butt hard as I gathered up the plates and started to load the dishwasher. Actually, this combination of developing a small 'private eye' business and staying 'in-scene' during our play evenings was getting me horny.

Ten minutes later, I was freshly lubed and plugged, still naked, kneeling by the bed, awaiting orders.

Dan had changed into leather chaps, stuffed into his Wescos, with a black leather harness. His genitals swung freely between his muscled legs and his matching titanium cock-ring and the heavy Prince Albert caught the fading evening light in the bedroom. The air-conditioning fed cooler air into a rapidly heating atmosphere.

"Up against the wall, boy. I'm glad Manning told us about the carefully positioned hooks. Shit, they seem to be designed to look almost like artwork on the wall. Now face me while I secure your hands and gag you."

I scrambled up into position. I wasn't fond of the leather penis gag because I like to kiss and be kissed. I felt it and the restraints reduced me to an inanimate object. But I submitted, as ordered, taking the leather into my mouth as Dan buckled it tight behind my head. I stood up straight and proud, stretching out my arms. A set of shackles was attached to each wrist, and then to the hooks in the wall, forcing me onto my toes.

I began to sweat in anticipation. Dan always looked so hot in a Master's outfit. My body was still hungry for his fat cock, which had begun to harden and rise again in front of me, and my own penis was responding to him.

He chuckled as he pulled my balls down firmly, giving them a slight twist. "No steel stretcher this evening, but I'm going to use a parachute and weight on your nuts. I want them lower and stronger."

"Sir, yes, Sir," I gurgled behind the gag. He leaned in, kissing my hard-gagged mouth, licking my face as I began to moan.

"Good boy, now I'm going to snap the parachute round those great round balls of yours and add a three pound weight, which you will keep swinging, if you don't want to feel the flogger right away."

He added a leather belt to pinion my waist to the wall. Now I was hung tight for his pleasure, trying harder to keep the weight moving between my legs.

Dan was humming to himself as he started lightly flogging my hairy pecs and nipples. I drew my breath sharply. Sweat was now running liberally down my back against the wall, and I twisted in the light, but firm bondage.

"Stand straight, boy, like I've taught you and fucking take it like the man you are."

I did my best to obey as he moved down across my abs and finally began to tickle my straining cock and inner thighs with his flogger. The weight seemed to swing of its own accord.

"That's got you nicely warmed up. Now let's get you turned around, so I can work your ass before I take you."

The waist belt was removed, the shackles unhooked, and I was turned round. We were both panting and Dan too was sweating in the air-conditioning. He took my head in his hands and smooched me, biting the top of the gag and nipping my lip. I shuddered in his grasp. He laughed in delight and slapped me into the reverse position. Now my dick was flattened against the wall, pre-cum oozing from my piss slit. My arms went back up on the hooks and I was stretched, shaking in anticipation.

"Get that fucking butt out, so I can flog it properly," he snarled, getting into the mood. "I want to see that plug you got up your ass--now."

I did as ordered; I felt his hands twist the dildo further in. By now, I was groaning loudly into my gag, so he tightened it, forcing the "mock penis" back towards my throat. I gurgled. He swung the flogger with his usual accuracy and my ass cheeks started to redden and glow. He worked them until he was satisfied and then ran cool sweaty hands over my hot sweaty skin. My moans intensified and the perspiration dripped down onto the rubber mat on the floor.

"Right, boy, fuck time." Dan pulled the plug swiftly out of my hole and rammed three lubricated fingers into the space. He moved them around, stretching me. He began to groan too as he greased up his pole in preparation for penetration. His fingers had loosened me up again, so he slid his weapon up and down my ass cheeks a couple of times, checking its hardness. I quivered and thrust my burning ass out and back.

He lined himself up and was in me immediately as I took a deep breath to ease his entrance. I willed myself to open up and receive him. I wriggled to accommodate that thick prick, and he took hold of my arms and pulled himself into me.

We were matched. Now began 'the rapture', as I called it. Dan, my Master, explored my body, making use of it to pleasure himself and giving me pleasure at the same time. He moved slowly at first, letting me feel the PA ahead of his shaft. Deliberately he had kept my passage just wide enough for both of us to feel him inside me, surging ahead. So I worked my muscles in time with his pole, keeping him in me, helping him to surge up again.

He bit the back of my neck lightly. His hands slid down to pull on my tits. My demanding cock was beating against the wall, seeking release. He moved the fingers of one hand down to play with it, while the other still worked my nipple. I was sliding into my subspace, feeling possessed and possessive, as we panted and rolled our sweating torsos together.

Dan was breathing deeply, grunting with delight as he thumped in my hole, swearing mightily and crushing his chest into my back. He was working hard for a good fuck, and I was giving him back every ounce of myself to receive my Master's fucking.

His groans redoubled as he thrust harder, banging me against the wall, pulling on my penis, seeking to go ever deeper inside me. Then I felt him beginning to pant like a steam engine, felt him raise himself to his full height, felt that pole at full stretch, and then felt the gift of his cum sluicing out of him and into me. I yelled into the gag, and my own penis started spurting my cream into his waiting hand. We stood, our legs shaking from the effort, glued to one another. Gradually our bodies shifted back to earth, and his dick descended. I sighed with pleasure and regret.

Five minutes later, we were washing one another in the large shower. Yes, I toweled him dry first, but then he toweled me and slathered some ointment on to the reddest part of my butt. We were transitioning back to normal life. The toys were cleaned and then put into their traveling bag.

We lay on the big bed, warmed by each other and comfortably relieved of the stresses of the day, and he burrowed into my furry chest, reaching out to exchange further intense kisses. It had taken us eight months to reach this stage in our sex-lives, but we were both well satisfied with what we had gained together.

"Tomorrow we'll get back to Reseda and finish getting that house ready for sale. We'll be citizens of Palm Springs, I hope, in less than a month," I muttered sleepily.