Letting Go
Duncan opened the trunk and considered his options. Finally he withdrew the implements he would need for the evening and laid them out on the guest bed. A towel was draped over these items. From the closet he took out the appropriate clothes, carrying them out and then laying them on the living room couch before he covered these with another towel. Now all he needed was his plaything.
* * *
Ainsley's eyes were caught as he drove past the street-side puddles of water and water-coated cars set aglitter by headlights and streetlamps, when he wasn't blinded by passing cars changing his windshield into a wall of light..
The dash clock showed 8:12.
Slowing down for a stop sign, Ainsley pushed the master button panel on his door. The rat felt the rubbery switch give with a little sink, and the click-whrrr of the opposite side window came down. There was even a little rumbled vibration underneath his finger- the sounds of wet traffic up ahead brought his eyes back out the window to check out the right turn up ahead. Enough to witness the ringtail in the car next to him singing to the radio with full upper-body choreography, and by the rate she was going it was probably a quick pop tune. He watched her car trail out into the night.
A honking horn behind him - something big and loud, maybe an SUV - made him look back at the road ahead, and seeing it was a go, made his turn. Up ahead was the blue awning signaling Papa Pepperoni's Pizza and their two for one deal. That was part of the directions - he should almost be there. Was it two blocks, or three, past the bank with their big digital clock tower spiking up from the plaza? Three.
The dash clock showed 8:16.
The shwoosh of tires through pools and the pitterpatter of rain on the passenger door's trim reminded him to roll up passenger window, with another click-whrrr, and finally a shhk as it closed u-
There was his turn! Or was it? He craned his head around, and decided to park in front of a grooming salon, with their primped and pampered poodle model plastered on the storefront's window. In the darkness, with the watery rainbows, she looked more like an artfully rendered hooker than anything glamorous. Then Ainsley remembered where he was and pulled the directions from his visor.
Ainsley unfolded the directions, frowning at a crease in the crisp page. He worked to flatten out the bend as much as he could. It was still not to his satisfaction, and he tried to ignore it as he checked the directions, but every time his eyes passed over that point, the crease leapt out and jeered at him like a drunken fratboy. At least the directions were on his side. Left at the red light ahead, two blocks, and into the apartment complex. Ainsley re-folded the paper three times, as the first two he could not get the sides lined up. This made another crease in the page, which set his teeth on edge.
Following the directions he pulled into the visitor's parking lot.
The dash clock showed 8:21.
Turning off his car and pulling out the keys, Ainsley first checked the directions. Apartment 703. He got out, grabbed his bag and locked the car.. Once more he had to fold the directions again - now to accommodate his back pocket. Spotting the place he was supposed to enter, Ainsley pocketed his keys. Jingle-jangle went the keys rattling around in his pocket. Jingle-jangle, jingle- Ainsley stopped and switched the keys into his back pocket, which left the metal things digging into his broad rump.
He knelt down and started sniffing around the potted plants by the building's front door. Eventually he smelled the dull mustard the directions had suggested and started digging. He discovered the key, unlocked the door and re-buried the key.
The lobby was nice, with what he believed were real plants by the window. Behind the desk sat a bored retriever in a uniform that Ainsley tried his damndest to not even notice, in hopes that he himself would not be noticed. He pushed the button for the elevator and it dinged right there.
Ainsley was just about to step inside when a thought found him. Did he lock his car?
Outside, Ainsley tugged the handle of his car. Yes, it was locked. Good.
His watch showed 8:25.
He went back - to find a middle-aged rabbit opening the door. With a sheepish smile Ainsley nodded to him, and the rabbit opened the door for him. His ear swiveled towards the other male as he breathed funny, a faint whistling with each breath. "Thanks." The rabbit punched five, while Ainsley tapped seven. Whistle. Whistle. Ainsley set his teeth and tried to watch the numbers climb. Why couldn't he just breathe through his nose? Finally the rabbit got off. Just as the number 6 popped up, another thought struck. The driver's door was locked; what about the rest of them?
Outside, Ainsley checked all his car doors. Okay, they're all locked. Good.
His watch showed 8:29. The directions told him apartment 703. The creases were horrible.
In the elevator Ainsley smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in his closed, fussed with his grey-silver muzzle fur, and nudged at the fur around his ears. He looked as good as he was going to get. This would be his third time meeting Duncan, and their second encounter. Duncan clearly didn't mind Ainsley and his style, but the rat couldn't help but fuss.
Ding!
He was there. Stepping out he glanced around for the numbers on the doors. Each of the numbers were etched in cursive on brass plates. He found the descending ones and headed that way. The languid beat of music - country, he thought - slid out from under one of the doors as he passed.
He gave a swift quartet of knocks on door 703, the naked skin of his knuckles tingling afterwards. His whiskers trembled as the seconds ticked by. Was he early? Or late? Or-
The door unlatched, swung open, and Ainsley held his breath.
Duncan was smiling in that "I know something you'll find out" way that touched his gray eyes.. The expression was made all the more wicked by the slight skew on one side of the bridge of Duncan's muzzle, which looked as though it had been broken a long time ago. Already the rat was squirming Averting his eyes, Ainsley looked down the male's body - which was not a bad place to be distracted. It was concealed beneath a dark blue robe, the front open wide enough to show the white ruff that went down the skunk's chest.
"Um, hi," Ainsley said with a smile despite his tension.
Saying nothing Duncan stepped aside. The rat flicked his ears back and walked in, the door closing behind him.
The living room beyond was large but the details were sketchy; a single lamp in the corner cast light through the oriental screen hiding it, tossing red and blue shadows. With the hall so bright in comparison, Ainsley could not at first pierce the murk.
He nearly jumped at the feel of fingerpads hovering over his back, brushing only across the tips of his fur as it traveled up to settle on his shoulder. Gliding around to the front, the skunk dragged those ghosting fingertips as he went, caressing down Ainsley's arm until, reaching the wrist, grasped the rat's paw.
Pulled in, Ainsley's body pressed up against the slightly larger male. While an arm went around his middle, squeezing him even closer, Duncan's nose brushed against one of his ears. "Are you ready?" He whispered slowly.
"Yes," Ainsley croaked, his naked tail trembling.
"Good," the skunk crooned into his ear. "Then go into the bathroom, strip, and lube yourself up for me. Piss while you are there; we won't be stopping for some time."
Only able to smile and splay his ears, the rat pulled away and scuttled down the hall to the bathroom with his overnight bag. His fingers slipped across several switches, multiple lights and a fan turning on inside the bathroom. He winced, closed the door, and shut them all off. Then one by one turned them on and off twice, leaving the last one - the overhead light - on.
Duncan had time to wait, knowing that his guest would be distracted. Anxiousness and excitement increased the rat's attention and obsession problems. He walked over to the couch and dropped his robe. First he slid into the knee high boots and tightened them, then the snug leather jacket, leaving it open to display his nudity, and finally the fingerless gloves. All of the black leather shone from the buffing he had given it, complimenting the ebony of his fur.
The bathroom door opened, light flooding into the hallway. Ainsley clicked off the light and slid out. The rat's ears were laid back, eyes down, and his arms draped over the slight ponch of his stomach. It did nothing but highlight his slender chest and the bell of his hips which lead to generous thighs and what Duncan knew to be a delightfully padded ass. He drew towards the couch, stealing peeks at the skunk in his leathers.
When the other male was close, Duncan stood and reached down, grabbing the towel stretched over the couch and whipped it off. "We're going to put these on you."
Tongue whisking over his lips the rat glanced down at the couch and back. "I...but, but I..."
Duncan stopped the flustered sputtering by reaching out and gripping Ainsley by the chin. Lifting his muzzle and forcing him into eye contact, the skunk replied in a slow tone, "Do you have something to say?"
Wilting underneath Duncan's gaze, the rat tried to shake his head in the grasp, but could not. "No sir," he finally replied, eyes darting away.
"Good," cooed the skunk. "Now close your eyes and breathe in slow. Now out. That's it. Listen to my voice and breathe as I tell you." He caressed along one naked arm, sifting fingers through the fur up and down to correspond with each instruction.
While continuing the exercise, he knelt and took one of the red stockings, sliding it up over Ainsley's leg until the garter hugged the rat's thigh, and then he helped with the second. Next came the red corset, snuggly fitted over his guest's chest before he synced the lacing up with the rat's breathing.
Certain that the rat was thoroughly relaxed, Duncan reached down and picked the collar up from the couch. "Open your eyes," he said, continuing the monotone voice, and showed the collar to Ainsley. "Do you understand the rules that go with this?"
Ainsley's face was almost slack, his breathing steady and deep, and his eyes did not dart about when opened, nor did his ears tilt or whiskers tremble. He merely focused on the collar. "Yes," he said at ease and without hesitation.
"Do you want it on?"
"Yes."
He wound it around snug and fastened it into place. Then, cradling the side of Ainsley's throat, he dragged a thumb along the rat's jaw line. Again he angled the other male's face so that he could make eye contact. "Who do you belong to?"
Ainsley said, "You."
"Who?" The word, while still slow, had a bit more emphasis to it.
Ainsley blinked, looking as though it were getting a hint hard to think. Then he smiled almost coyly and licked the end of his muzzle. "You, sir."
"Mmhm." From the pocket of his jacket he withdrew a leash and clipped it to Ainsley's collar. With a tug at the lead Duncan turned and strode down the hall to the guest bedroom, the rat keeping well within the leash's slack.
Drawing Ainsley up beside the guest bed, Duncan pulled back the towel to expose his implements. The rat's gaze remained on him.
Smiling to himself Duncan brushed a paw over Ainsley's cheek before grabbing hold of the leash's base to reel him into a kiss. Lips lethargic in the parting and pressing, tongues rolled together at a leisured pace. A slight chit noise escaped Ainsley's throat as he nudged with his muzzle against the skunk's, requesting more.
While he reached down to the bed the skunk drew back his muzzle, tongue trailing along the other male's jaw. Duncan then pulled back completely and the nipple clamp he had grabbed was snapped into place.
Ainsley jerked backwards and squeaked. His mouth moved without sound as the sensation bared down on hm. Muscles tensed all over his body and he writhed in place, unable to escape the unending pinch.
Duncan urged the wriggling rat backwards. The clamp was removed before he said, "Lift up your arms." Ainsley complied and his wrists were claimed by cuffs on a strap hanging from a bolt in the ceiling. Deciding there was not enough maneuvering room, the skunk moved a set of stocks on wheels further back into the corner before turning his attention back to Ainsley.
An impression of the clamp still remained on the stiff nipple. Duncan eventually rubbed it out by the press and roll of a thumb. He smiled down at the sight of the rigid erection that greeted him. "You're enjoying this, boy. Aren't you?"
Ainsley said, "Yes sir," not quite looking at Duncan but not avoiding him either. He just pressed himself into the skunk's paw and closed his eyes. A hiss rose up when the clamp returned, became a groan when a second bit his unattended nub, and finally settled into a high whine as the clamps were wiggled and tugged, his hips jumping and tail jerking while his back arched.
Finally the skunk relented and released the clamps. Then leaning down he ran his tongue over the abused skin, drawing a new set of twitches from the rat. Duncan did nothing besides taunt those nipples with lips and teeth. Normally he would use simultaneous sensations but given Ainsley's needs and limitations he stuck to one feeling at a time.
Feather softness swept over Aisnely's erection as the skunk turned, letting his tail linger on extra moment before striding to the bed. Nipple clamps cast aside he took up the crop and smiled.
Ainsley felt nothing existed except the echo of the flutter of fur over his skin. That and an awareness of Duncan, like one is aware of the sun's presence on a summer's walk . The firm press and stroke of a paw up his back rubbed the fur the wrong way, then brushed it back into place on the return trip.
Tight tingles of tension ran into his spine from a squeeze at the base of his tail, before the touch grew lighter and nails ran along it. The grip tightened and lifted his tail.
Sharp pain blossomed against his rear. Again. Again. In the stillness that followed his cheeks throbbed, the sting lingering in a steady ringing. The steady grip on his tail gave a squeezing knead.
A firm point pressed down on the side of his bottom and ran in circles, then stroked down a thigh, over his sack to the other cheek and came back.
There was nothing but the grip on his tail and the cuffs holding his wrists.
Right against his ear came the clear sound. "Do you want more, boy?"
He was being asked something. More of what? The pain. The thoughts were slow, like remembering something in his sleep. "Yes, sir." His throat croaked under the words. He was pleased to answer.
Soft strokes went across the back of his ear. It stayed for a time, then nothing. Pain bit into his bottom and thighs. One sting bled into the next, and as they slowed, the persistent burn overlapped. The cycle repeated itself forever before ending.
His tail was released. Pressure pushed, then rubbed into his rear, squeezing the cheeks and then the backs of his thighs.
While the massage stopped he remained cupped, and a caress slid under his tail. Tension rubbed down on him to start pushing inside.
It stopped.
From very far away a noise began a continuous ring.
Tugs and shaking started on his wrists and words cut into him. "Ainsley, you need to stand up. Stand up!" The grip on his wrists ended and he fell into a hug before he obeyed. That hug shook him. "Open your eyes Ainsley!" He did so. Duncan's face was in front of him. "I need you to walk, Ainsley. Follow me. Walk with me."
Ainsley blinked. The words were loud over the steady noise. Then his arm was grabbed and pulled as Duncan moved. He began to walk.
Duncan rubbed over Ainsley's back and mm'd as the rat arched underneath his paw. Grabbing the base of his tail and pulling it up out of the way, he earned a pleasant wiggle from the tempting target of Ainsley's ass. Taking advantage of the naked skin, Duncan toyed with it curiously, running nails along the twitching length as Ainsley rocked from foot to foot.
Giving into temptation, he snapped the crop along one cheek. Ainsley squeaked and jumped, leaning heavily onto the support of the cuffs and tail. Duncan struck twice more, popping the bouncing curves to the sounds of a hissing rodent and the toy's pop.
For several moments the skunk let Ainsley quiver. Then he traced the rat's ass with the crop, teasing down his thighs and even tickling his balls. Duncan leaned over and spoke clear and direct into the gray furred ear. "Do you want more, boy?"
After an initial pause, the rat said "Yes, sir." His words were light and drifting like he was talking in his sleep.
Which wasn't far off. Many submissives, when fully into a scene, would fall into a state of mind called subspace. While felt and interpreted differently this state had many agreeing it was like being high or meditating. But Ainsley wanted, needed something deeper, and Duncan had used the most basic of hypnosis techniques to piggyback on the subspace and enhance it.
For a moment Duncan ran his thumb along the back of the rat's ear before readjusting his grip on the crop. Then he brought the crop to bare along the shape of Ainsley's lush ass and the backs of his thighs. He jumped and hissed, grunted and arched. Duncan pulled on the tail to guide the slant of Ainsley's hips, exposing the best target and lead the rat's jerks. The pace varied between a rapid rhythm to a more languid rate that let each crack stand out.
Eventually Duncan tossed the toy to the bed. He cupped the rat's bottom and squeezed, rubbing deep into the abused muscles. His hands kneaded down over Ainsley's thighs and worked back up to the whole of his butt, drawing out a pleased click of teeth out of his victim. A thumb brushed over the cheek's inner curve before tracing the crease. Duncan circled the ring, then bared down on the opening more directly. As the squeak rose up his thumb started to sink through the lubed entrance. Ainsley arched and nudged backwards.
The fire alarm went off.
Duncan jerked back and froze. There was no way to tell if there was a real fire but it didn't matter; they needed to get out.
But they couldn't just run. Ainsley was deep in his subspace and would be emotionally vulnerable coming out of it, especially with the hypnotic components Duncan had added. Yanking him up and shoving him outside, compounded with his issues, would be a real shock to him. But they needed to get out. All he could do was try to keep Ainsley's mindset going and hope it would be enough to keep him secure.
With a hiss he went for the cuffs. "Ainsley! You to stand up!" He sagged in the cuffs and when they loosened the rat fell into Duncan's arms. "Stand up!" The rat took his own weight. Duncan shook him. "Open your eyes Ainsley!" They opened and didn't quite focus on the skunk. "I need you to walk, Ainsley. Follow me. Walk with me." Duncan then grabbed his arm and pulled towards the building's hallway.
In the hallway the smell of smoke was intense. When they reached the stairway the sounds of pounding feet followed as coughing people passed by the door. Duncan shouldered Ainsley's arm and hugged his middle before starting down the stairs as fast as he thought the rat could manage.
Which was not fast enough for Duncan. No longer focused on getting Ainsley moving, the feeling of urgency pushed at him to get out now.
"What's wrong?" Ainsley said as they hit the sixth floor landing.
So focused on the stairs the question almost sent Duncan stumbling. Gathering his voice as carefully as he could, "I need you to keep moving, Ainsley. Keep up and it'll be ok."
As they passed the fourth floor a near panicked stag, coughing hard and charging down the stairs, nearly knocked the two down as he passed. Duncan strained to keep Ainsley up. He pushed on, panting and almost overwhelmed by just the smell of the smoke.
Muscles ached but the desperation, determination and the pounding of blood in his ears drowned out everything else. They were going to get out.
The sight of the propped open emergency exit on the ground floor sent a fresh rush through Duncan and they surged into the clean air and drizzling rain of the night.
Sirens were detectable just over the now muffled whine of the fire alarm, and Duncan could see the flashing lights as he looked for a place to go. Ainsley stirred at his side, blinking under the rain pettering him. Duncan pulled him along to the crowd of his neighbors gathering under a few trees beside the building.
As they reached the crowd the fire trucks and police rolled into the scene. Ainsley lifted his head, ears folding as he looked around. Duncan caught the rat's muzzle and drew his face back to lock into eye contact. "Breathe in. Breathe out. Good. Continue," he said and brushed his fingers along the rat's cheek to the rhythm. After two minutes Ainsley relaxed, easing back into a semblance of his headspace.
He needed something to focus on. Duncan ran his thumb along the rat's lips. "Suck on this, boy," he whispered and worked the digit inside. Ainsley's eyes closed and he began nursing on Duncan's finger. In moments he was putting more effort into fellating it.
Duncan did not have the luxury of Ainsley's single mindedness. Painfully aware that they were in kinkwear, his neighbors stared at the pair or made a visible effort to not look. The nearest people had scooted away to put themselves in reach of the rain rather than stay close, and the two were left standing in the open.
Duncan tucked Ainsley's muzzle under his chin and pressed close, making the suckling more discreet, and began petting the rat's ears and the back of his head in soothing passes. Then the skunk' wound the wide brush of his tail around the other male's hips to grant a hint of modesty.
An EMT came over and looked with concern at Ainsley. While moving in to touch him, he asked, "Is he ok?"
"He has anxiety issues," Duncan half-lied and turned to put himself between the EMT and Ainsley while continuing every bit of affection he was giving the rat. The hard look he gave the EMT backed him off. It did not discourage the EMT from grabbing a blanket and offering it, much to Duncan's warmer smile and words of gratitude. The two huddled beneath the blanket.
An officer addressed the residents, telling them that a minor fire had broken out in a ninth floor apartment. In the thirty minutes before they were allowed to go back in, Duncan tried to reinforce Ainsley's headspace, squeezing the nape of his neck, rubbing over his ears and whispering how he was pleasing. The response was just the clicking of teeth and the rat rubbing up against Duncan.
Ainsley was warm beneath the blanket. It felt safe. Which was important because he knew the place was not safe save for Duncan's presence. He put the thought away, pressed his nose into the crook of Duncan's neck and just floated on the touches to he was given.
Smells and sound began to seep into his awareness. His legs ached. Even if he was surfacing from the place he had been, Ainsley felt too good, too drunk to care.
They started moving and he held Duncan's hand, kept his eyes closed and followed. They went inside and a lot of people waited for the elevator in quiet. A little girl said, "Mommy, they're not wearing pants." The laughter that sprang up did not matter to him.
"Sit," said Duncan after they went into his apartment. He did so, feeling the soft comforter of a bed under him. He opened his eyes and saw the room with the cuffs hanging from the ceiling and a frame in the corner. Duncan knelt and peeled off his stockings, then removed the corset, and Ainsley could breathe deeper.
Duncan leaned in and gazed into his eyes. "I'm going to take off the collar now. You're no longer mine." When the collar came loose, Duncan's fingers ran over his neck.
He was held and touched. Ainsley hugged back, nuzzling Duncan's throat. After some time, he thought he should say something. "I'm ok."
"I think you should go to sleep. Would you like that?"
Ainsley nodded and Duncan coaxed him into the narrow bed before tucking him in. He closed his eyes, paying attention to the softness of the pillow against his cheek and the sheets on the skin of his tail and feet, ignoring whatever Duncan was doing as he moved around the room. But the skunk spoke up. "I'll be in the next room if you need anything. Goodnight."
Ainsley was asleep before Duncan had left the hall.
A swift set of knocks on the open door woke Ainsley. He rolled over and saw Duncan in the hall, backlit by warm light that crept in and made the BDSM frames stand out in silhouette.
"It's six thirty," said Duncan from the door. "I didn't know when you got up for work."
"Now is good," Ainsley said with a pleasant sigh. He felt rested and comfortable, able to curl up and smile into his pillow, confident that he would slowly wake rather than get tugged back into sleep if he didn't scurry out of bed.
But he couldn't. Duncan's silhouette left the hall and Ainsley was aware something felt wrong. His contented thoughts had to be forced to go away and it came to him then. Last night something was not right about what happened.
He got up and found his overnight bag tucked beside the door. While going about the morning grooming in the bathroom his stomach awoke with a fury.
Once dressed he emerged and found Duncan in a smart suit waiting on him the living room. "Sorry I'm rushing you out the door," said the skunk. "I have an ugly commute."
"It's ok," Ainsley said.
For a moment they were quiet before Ainsley straightened up and said, "Um, we need to talk."
"Yes."
Ainsley said, "Tonight? Six?"
Duncan paused and made a face. Then he nodded. "Six is fine." Ainsley was sure it wasn't or at least something was not fine, especially given the silence between them in the hall and down the elevator.
Duncan was late. Only by ten minutes but it had been enough to set Ainsley fidgeting when he saw the rat climb out of his car with haste. The small talk on the way up was empty, and Ainsley kept flicking his eyes about, thumbing one of his pockets and twitching his whiskers. Once inside, Duncan asked, "Would you like something?"
"No, I'm good," Ainsley said as he slid onto the couch.
Duncan sat down near Ainsley and explained what happened the night before. Through the recounting the rat's ears and whiskers were laid back and he pulled his tail into his lap to hold.
Finally, lips tight, he said "You left me like that. I was under your control while outside and in front of those people." With those last few words his eyes grew wide and a little scared.
"Yes, but would it have been better if I'd yanked you awake and exposed without any aftercare?" At first it was defensive, but Duncan then added with more care, "Would you have felt more comfortable outside?"
The rat looked away before saying, "No."
Duncan asked, "What was the right thing for me to do?"
When no response was forthcoming, a small part of Duncan relaxed. He had not been happy with his choice either, and the second confused opinion made him feel less alone in it.
Eventually Ainsley said, "I trusted you to take care of me." He looked back with damp eyes.
The words, but more the vulnerability in that gaze, stung Duncan but he swallowed it down. "Everything I did was to take care of you." Taking a risk he scooted down beside Ainsley, touching the rat's cheek and coaxed him to share eye contact. "I'm sorry that last night was a mess. There was no perfect response. Do you still trust me?"
Ainsley shifted to lean against him and laid his head on Duncan's shoulder. They were quiet until the rat said, "We didn't finish."
Duncan stroked along Ainsley's thigh. "We didn't."
Ainsley lifted his head and tilted his muzzle, pushing into a coy kiss. Several moments slid by under their mouths' play before the rat eased back. "I'd like to finish it."
The skunk smiled and stroked over the tail in Ainsley's lap. "Close your eyes. Breathe in and out." He waited until Ainsley was relaxed before he rose up and walked into the guest bedroom.
Duncan opened the trunk and considered his options. Finally he withdrew the implements he would need and laid them out on the guest bed.