Title: Void – part 2/2
Pairing/characters: Connor/Ryan, Leek
Warnings: Language, violence, bdsm, flogging, non-con (see also author notes)
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 3700 (10,020 in total)
Summary: It was supposed to be their first night out together as Dom and sub, but it wasn’t quite the safe place they thought it was.
AN: Connor fic for the primeval_denial July Team Fest, based on prompts from tay_21 - Connor/Ryan the kinkier and filthier the better! Servitude with heavy bondage and a ball/penis gag at some point. Other suggested kinks: flogging, hair-pulling, collars, biting, electrostim, sounds, etc, and also Leek/Connor noncon- LOTS of Connor whump please. I managed to get in some of those kinks, and then added a few new ones! Note – not eligible for prompt bonus points, as these prompts are actually for Ryan from the January team fest. Oops!
AN2: Is eligible for bonus points from the Kink Bingo Card – orgasm denial, spanking, non-con, leather, bondage, pissing (although the pissing is a bit ‘blink and you miss it’!). Unfortunately, these aren’t in a handy line, so it’s just a bonus point for the first square.
AN3: I also appear to have written a surprise mini-bang. Not bad to say there’s sod all plot!
AN4: Thanks to lj user="fififolle"> for the super speedy beta.
Ryan was uneasy. Something wasn’t right, and he just couldn’t put his finger on what. He thought about it while he was in the men’s relieving himself.
He had been to Void several times in the past, both as a Dom and a sub, and pretty much all his memories of the place were good ones. But he had to admit, it had been a few years since the last time, and something was different. It had taken him a while to notice, but little things were starting to bother him.
The ‘stage show’ wasn’t unusual, but he had been surprised by the harshness and the duration of the punishment. People didn’t seem to be mingling as much. He struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was, but there was an atmosphere that he didn’t remember from before. Even Connor might have picked up on it, Ryan reflected. He had certainly seemed quieter, and more nervous than Ryan had expected him to be all evening.
Ryan frowned as he washed his hands. He didn’t like the sense that something was wrong, and he didn’t like not knowing what it was. And he especially didn’t like the fact that he had brought Connor into such a situation. He could feel himself becoming tense the more he thought about it, and that was not the mood that he wanted to be in with Connor tonight. He needed to be calm and relaxed and in control, for both of them.
Fuck it. He was going to get Connor and go home. He was pretty sure they could come up with something suitably entertaining to do together at home, so the night didn’t have to be a washout. And then maybe he could ask round some of his old acquaintances, get his ear to the ground, and find out what the hell had happened to Void in the last few years.
He headed back out into the corridor and almost ran into two of the black-clothed members of staff. They were side by side, practically blocking the corridor, and Ryan knew immediately there was something not right.
“Excuse me.” He tried to push past them, but they were both big and heavy-set.
One of the men put a hand on his chest and shoved Ryan back.
“I’m sorry sir, the boss has requested that you leave the premises immediately,” he said in a tone that told Ryan it sure as hell wasn’t a ‘request’.
“Why?” He carefully catalogued what he could see of both men, assessing them for hidden weapons or weaknesses.
“If you’d like to step this way, sir.”
The chatty one indicated back down the opposite end of the corridor away from the main club. Ryan began to turn away to head in that direction, aware of the two men moving to follow him.
He snapped round, slamming his elbow into the chatty man’s face. The man reeled backwards, his hands automatically going to his nose, and Ryan used the moment to turn on the second man and punch him in the eye, slam his other fist into the man’s stomach, and then ram his knee into the man’s head as he went down.
Chatty man swung at him, and Ryan caught a glancing blow to the side of his head. He dodged a second punch, and jabbed his fist into the chatty man’s sizeable stomach. Ryan saw the man’s hand going towards his pocket, and he lashed out with a kick targeted at the man’s kneecap, and then hooked his leg around the back of the man’s knee and threw him to the ground. He quickly moved to sit astride the chatty man’s chest, and punched him in the throat. He laid another punch into the man’s face for good measure while he lay there choking and gasping.
Then Ryan leaned forwards until he was right in the chatty man’s face.
“Where is my boy?”
Chatty man continued to choke, and Ryan glanced at the other one, who was still groaning on the floor. As he’d thought, these guys were mostly bulk, bluff, and intimidation.
And they were working on someone else’s orders to prevent him getting back to Connor.
Ryan briefly thought of shoving them both into the toilet where they were less likely to be found, but then spotted yet another security camera in the corner.
Fuck it. He needed to move fast.
Ryan headed back down the corridor and slipped through the door back into the club proper. He was surprised no one else was here to stop him already, especially given the cameras, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity while he had it.
Ryan scanned the club for anything unusual as he walked quickly back to his table. He wanted to run, but that would only draw attention to himself.
Connor wasn’t there.
Ryan clamped down on his momentary panic and looked around again. Connor might be terminally curious, but he was also well trained, and, Ryan knew, he had been nervous earlier. That meant Connor would not have gone anywhere by himself, and that led to only one logical, and terrible conclusion.
He started to thread his way back through the crowd. He knew he didn’t have much time before more security turned up, and probably in greater numbers.
Something snagged on his ankle, and then gripped hard, and Ryan stumbled to the floor. He spun round ready for a fight, but found himself face to face with a terrified looking young sub in a black collar.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m sorry!” the boy babbled, scrabbling to get to his knees. His hand slipped, and he almost fell face-first into Ryan’s neck.
“Door at the back on the left,” the boy whispered.
Then the boy’s Dom dragged him upright off Ryan, shouting angrily at the boy. Ryan stared in shock at the sub for a second, and then he nodded, and got up.
“Sorry, my fault,” Ryan said to the boy’s master, hoping it might protect the sub from punishment, and then he moved off towards the back of the club as fast as he could.
There were several doors on the left, Ryan knew. They were smaller, lockable rooms for greater privacy. And punishment.
Ryan moved faster.
The leather strap snapped across Connor’s back for the fifth time, and he whimpered around the gag. Leek didn’t seem to be as strong as Ryan, but he was brutal, each blow seemingly calculated to inflict as much pain as possible, even though it was only a strap. Connor had taken such a punishment before, but this was different. This wasn’t a deserved discipline, or a necessary lesson.
And this wasn’t Ryan.
A sixth landed, this time on his arse. He jerked and the butt plug shifted within him, teasing as it had done so many times already that evening, but this time Connor was anything but aroused.
The initial sharp sting gave way to a low, constant hum of pain. Connor tensed for number seven, but it didn’t come. He fought the urge to turn his head, to try to see what Leek was doing. If Connor had to take a wild guess, he would say Leek seemed like the kind of man who would play mind games – make him think it was over, and then start up again.
Instead he suddenly became aware of a body close behind him, and a moment later he felt breath on the back of his neck.
“That’s for resisting me.” Leek spoke right into his ear, his voice a self-satisfied sneer. “Now we can get on with the really fun part.”
Connor felt fingers brush against the butt plug, and he squirmed as far away as he could from Leek’s touch. Unfortunately, with his wrists still chained to the frame that wasn’t very far. Leek grabbed a handful of Connor’s hair and yanked his head back. Connor choked, the new angle making it even harder to breathe around the gag.
“Do not resist me,” Leek hissed.
His other hand returned to the plug, and began to push and pull and tease at it, but all Connor could focus on was the fact that he couldn’t bloody breathe. With an effort of will he forced himself to stop panicking and relax, to let his body go limp. Leek tugged his head back again, and then let go, shoving him forwards until Connor’s forehead connected with one of the horizontal bars of the frame.
Connor gasped and sucked in air as best he could, only vaguely aware of the plug being twisted and pulled out of him. He snapped back to attention when he heard the sound of a zip, and barely a moment later Leek’s hands were on his arse, forcing him open.
God, no. Not this, not this, please not this.
Connor closed his eyes and tried to shut down his racing brain. If he couldn’t get away physically, then he knew he had to find some sort of mental escape, to just shut down and let it happen.
He heard a dull thump somewhere behind him, but it sounded far away and unimportant.
Leek paused, and Connor tried to squirm away from him. To hell with not resisting!
Connor heard a click, and suddenly a shout from the black-shirted doorman was cut off by another thud.
He had no idea what was going on, but he sensed a chance and took it.
Connor screamed as loudly as he could around the gag, and twisted away from Leek, thrashing wildly against the chains that held his wrists. His trousers were still round his ankles, effectively hobbling him, but he managed to stamp his heel down onto Leek’s foot at least once before he lost his footing. His wrists and shoulders jarred as they abruptly took all his weight, but he kept struggling.
“What the he-” Leek’s angry words were cut off and Connor felt the rush of air as Leek was suddenly yanked away from him. The all too familiar sound of something impacting on flesh filled the room, and Connor scrambled to get his feet under himself and struggled against the chains, still making as much noise as he could.
Somebody appeared right behind him, and Connor did his damndest to stamp on their foot as well.
“Connor, it’s me.”
Hearing Ryan’s voice beside him was like all of his favourite superheroes spontaneously appearing to rescue him. Connor almost sobbed with relief as Ryan quickly undid the gag and pulled it out, and then turned his attention to the cuffs on his wrists. Connor stumbled and sagged against Ryan for a moment, still gasping air in. Ryan pulled Connor’s trousers up, and Connor managed to get them done up himself, something in the back of his mind insisting that he had to show Ryan he wasn’t completely helpless.
“Come on, we need to move fast.”
Connor looked round and saw the rest of the room for the first time since he had been brought in here. The black-shirted guard was apparently unconscious, while Leek was curled up in a ball clutching his groin. His gaze skittered to Ryan at last, and then darted away just as quickly.
He had never seen Ryan so furious, or so... cold.
When he didn’t immediately move, Ryan took hold of his wrist and dragged him out of the room and through the half-darkness of the club, ignoring the stares they were getting, or the shouts from somewhere near the bar. Connor didn’t dare to look back, and stumbled after Ryan up the stairs to the door where they had come in, and back out into the changing area.
Connor half expected the two men who had been there when they arrived to try to stop them, but they were both conspicuously absent. Ryan wrenched open the locker, grabbed his jacket and Connor’s shirt, and then set off for the way out, still gripping Connor’s wrist so hard it was beginning to hurt.
Connor didn’t dare to say anything.
As soon as they were out onto the street, Ryan paused for long enough to put his jacket around Connor’s bare shoulders, but then they were moving again.
Ryan still hadn’t said a word when they finally made it back to the car, and they both piled into it and just sat there for a moment, Connor regaining his breath and letting his heartbeat return to its usual speed.
“Did he...?” Ryan stopped abruptly, and turned to face Connor.
Connor met his angry stare and waited for the shit to hit the fan.
“Did he rape you?”
Connor shook his head. “No. You arrived before he got that far.”
Ryan held his gaze for another second, and then turned away and let his head fall back against the headrest.
“Thank fuck for that, at least.”
Connor opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
Ryan started the car and they drove home in silence.
“Go inside and wait for me.”
Connor risked a glance at Ryan, and then got out of the car when he saw that Ryan’s expression was still as hard as it had been when he pulled off the rescue.
He unlocked their front door and went into the hallway, but when he looked back Ryan was still sitting in the car, and holding his phone to his ear.
Who was he calling? The police? Surely he would have told Connor if he was going to do that. Besides, that didn’t seem like Ryan’s style. He was far more likely to be calling in favours from as many army mates as he could to go and pay an unofficial visit to Leek.
Connor shivered, not entirely from the cool night air on his bare chest.
He closed the door, and slipped Ryan’s jacket off, wincing at the flare of pain in his back. He paused for a moment and hugged the jacket to his face to inhale the familiar comforting scent of it before he hung it up. Then he moved through into the living room and dropped to his knees to await his master.
Eventually, he heard the front door, and the sound of it being locked. Connor continued to keep his gaze fixed on the carpet even when Ryan approached. He pressed his hands flat onto his thighs, hoping Ryan couldn’t see how much he was shaking.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry. I did everything that you said. I was respectful to him. I didn’t do anything to provoke him. I tried to tell him I had a red tag, and that you’d be back soon, but he wouldn’t stop. And when I realised it was all wrong I tried to fight him off, I swear, I tried, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry, I’m really sorr-“
Ryan caught hold of his chin and forced Connor to look up at him, and Ryan’s finger pressed to his lips, silencing him.
“Connor, stop. Look at me.”
Connor looked up and met Ryan’s eyes. For the first time since they had left Void he saw no anger or disappointment there. At least, none directed at himself.
“You have nothing to apologise for, Connor. This was not your fault. I have no doubt that you did nothing to encourage or deserve what happened. I’m the one who should be apologising. I’m responsible for you, and I shouldn’t have let that happen. I shouldn’t have left you alone in that place, but I didn’t realise that something was wrong until it was too late. I’m sorry, Connor.”
What? Connor had been so sure that he had fucked up badly. That he was a terrible disappointment to his master, and that he had been the one who had ruined their first night out together as Master and sub. Hearing Ryan blame himself just made Connor want to hold him, and curl up in Ryan’s arms forever.
Connor never let his gaze leave Ryan’s and his whirling emotions finally began to settle. He pressed a soft kiss to the finger that was still pressed to his lips, and hoped that Ryan would understand that it conveyed all the forgiveness and trust that Connor couldn’t put into words.
Ryan tugged Connor to his feet, and then wrapped his arms around him and pulled Connor close against his chest. Connor returned the hug, and they simply stood there for several minutes, holding each other.
“Come on,” Ryan said gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Instead of going to the bathroom, though, Ryan took him to their bedroom, where he took his time gently undressing what little clothing Connor was still wearing. A look of distaste flitted across Ryan’s face when he unlocked the red teardrop tag, which was still attached to Connor’s collar. Then he shoved it in his pocket out of sight, and returned his attention to Connor, his eyes calm and reassuring again. He paused for a moment when he got to the chastity belt, and then dug the key from his pocket. He was about to unlock it when Connor reached out and touched Ryan’s hand.
“No, wait,” he said, not stopping to think about what he was doing.
Ryan’s eyebrows shot upwards, and he gave Connor a curious look.
“You don’t want me to take it off?”
Connor hesitated. He had no idea how to say what was going on in his head.
“You said you would only take it off if I deserved to be rewarded.”
“You don’t think you deserve it?”
“I... I don’t know.”
Connor knew his master didn’t like unspecific answers, but right then he honestly had no idea what he wanted.
“Why not?” Ryan asked patiently.
Why not? No matter how much Ryan took responsibility himself, Connor still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one who had fucked up that evening. He deserved to be punished, not rewarded.
“Connor. Whatever’s going on in your head right now, whatever you want to say, you will not be punished for it. I just want the truth, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master. I...I don’t feel like I deserve it. But it’s not just that.” He paused, searching for the way to describe how he felt. “You make me feel safe. You make me feel protected. And this, it’s like a constant reminder of that. That only you can touch me. I know I’m not making any sense, but you wanted to know how I felt and that’s the only way I know how to say it.”
Ryan watched him intently for several seconds, and then he smiled and reached out and ran his fingers through Connor’s hair.
Then he stood up and put the key away in the drawer of the bedside cabinet.
“I have not forgotten that you still need a little reminder on how to behave, but under the circumstances we’ll leave that until tomorrow morning. In the meantime, consider the chastity belt part of that discipline. When you’re begging to be allowed to come, maybe you will remember that I expect obedience when I tell you to do something.”
Connor’s stomach seemed to flip in both gratitude and disbelief at what he had just asked for, and received. Of course, as soon as Ryan had mentioned not being allowed to come, Connor remembered his frustration in the club, and his cock twitched.
Nevertheless, he nodded.
“Thank you, Master.”
Ryan nodded approvingly. Then he spread a couple of towels out on the bed and told Connor to lie face down.
Connor’s thoughts were still whirling for the few minutes that Ryan was gone, but then the bed dipped next to him, and he felt Ryan gently washing his back with a soft, damp sponge.
As the residual pain of the beating finally faded under Ryan’s touch, Connor let his mind begin to drift. Already it was beginning to seem like a distant nightmare, and Connor closed his eyes and simply let the sensations soothe and comfort him.
After the washing, Ryan applied a cool cream to what Connor assumed must be the worst of the bruises, although Ryan did inform him that there was no blood, which he supposed was one good thing. Ryan then leaned over him and started to knead Connor’s shoulders, rubbing away the last of his tension, while being careful not to touch any of his injuries.
It vaguely occurred to Connor that he was normally the one giving his master a back rub, but right then he was too content and relaxed to care, and simply let it happen, making occasional soft noises of sleepy contentment.
Eventually it ended, and Connor shuffled sideways when Ryan needed to take away the towels. A few minutes later Ryan joined him in bed and gently drew the duvet around them, watching Connor intently, Connor supposed for any signs of discomfort. It was a little uncomfortable when the duvet settled on his back and arse, but not as bad as he’d expected.
Ryan reached out and stroked Connor’s hair, but apart from that there was no physical contact. Again, Connor assumed, that was probably because Ryan didn’t want to hurt him, but what Connor wanted more than anything right then was as much contact as possible. Hell, he wanted a cuddle!
Connor wriggled closer and snuggled up against Ryan’s side, curling and arm and leg around Ryan’s body. Ryan quickly got the hint, and slipped one arm loosely around Connor, still avoiding touching his back, for which Connor had to admit he was grateful. Ryan kissed the top of his head, and stroked Connor’s hair again. Connor finally allowed himself to relax. Here, in Ryan’s arms, he felt safe, cared for, protected.
“Don’t forget tomorrow we need to deal with the little matter of that reminder lesson you earned this evening,” Ryan whispered. He traced along the edge of the metal plate of the belt with his finger, and then slid lower, deliberately teasing for a brief moment.
Connor whined, but a shiver of anticipation rippled through him. As he drifted off to sleep, he was already imagining what form of discipline Ryan might have in store for him.
He couldn’t wait.