Law and Order: Blackmail Edition

"Gone deaf, officer?" he inquired snarkily. "Or do you just have no reply?"

He dug his fingers into Dubois' arms, hoping he didn't like pain. That would certainly make this far more amusing; he didn't want gentle loving from a whore, anyway.

"For someone who was desperate enough to blackmail me into sex, you sure don't seem to be enjoying this," he said simply, as he groped Demetry.

"So shut the fuck up, already," he snapped, pulling him into another kiss, hoping this one would last long enough so that he didn't have to hear Demetry talking for at least a few seconds.

He pushed Dubois' face away, glaring. "I would've picked something else, had I any confidence in you having other talents, but I don't--you seem very simple, Officer Dubois. I had to do something with you.

"Besides, I'll do as I like--you are not in control here."

Gilles's grip on Demetry's hair grew tighter, as he roughly shoved him down onto the bed.

"I don't think you want to find out which of us is stronger," he hissed, leaning over him.

"Because I promise, it's me."

"Fucking prove it, you lowly degenerate," he spat in return, attempting the keep Dubois from crushing him. Unfortunately, the officer was the larger man.

Even worse for Demetry, his remarks about going soft had been mainly false. The man on top of him was, unfortunately, really good-looking.

"Get off of me," he said, though there wasn't much conviction behind it. "Let go of my hair."

In response, he tugged even harder on his hair, grinning. Finally, things were picking up. Maybe the night wouldn't be a total waste after all.

"This is what you wanted," he replied, licking his lips. He shifted his weight so that he was leaning over Demetry, but not onto him. He didn't want to completely crush him. Not yet.

Dubois leaned over, running his tongue over Demetry's neck, before giving him a rather hard bite.

"Augh!" Demetry yelped in pain; he hadn't been expecting that. Was this what kinky freaks did in bed, or was Dubois just being an asshole? He honestly couldn't tell.

"Stop, you stupid piece of...you complete asshole!" He struggled, trying to shove Dubois' face away from his neck. "If you leave a mark, I will kill you!"

He sucked on Demetry's neck, refusing to relinquish control. Yes, he was rather enjoying this. If he didn't leave a mark, he'd be so disappointed.

Meanwhile, because he wasn't a total douche, he ran his hand under Demetry's shirt, and up to his nipples. He ran his fingers over them, as he did his best to leave a nice hickey on his neck.

Demetry bit his lip until it bled, withholding a moan. He dug his fingers into Dubois' sides, hoping it hurt. When he finally felt like he had gained control over himself, he spoke.

"If you wanted to hurt me, we could've just taken this outside," he hissed. "I have no problem with beating you up, officer."

He wished to say more snarky things, but his words were cut short by a gasp.

"This is what I like," he lied, licking the raw part of Demetry's neck. He pulled away, licking his lips. He bent over, grinning widely.

"Now, what should I do next...? I could lick your nipples, or, I could just fuck you," he mused.

He swallowed and glanced away from Dubois' face; he refused to show his nervousness.

"...As if I care what you do--just make it good, or I'll get angry. And no fucking marks, you simpleton--didn't you hear me? If I have one on my neck tomorrow, your fortune will take an immediate downturn."

Dubois just smiled.

"Sure, sure. Since you're the one 'in-charge' go ahead and just tell me what to do then, master," he replied, completely disrespecting the crap out of him, now.

"Whatever pleases you less," he said, straining to sound even relatively polite. "And whatever won't leave marks--I don't think you heard me the first time, so I will repeat myself. If you leave visible marks on my body, I will hurt you in every sense of the word."

He released his hold on Dubois, drumming his fingers against the white bedsheets instead. They were unusually warm; he ordinarily slept alone, in his huge, cold house. He couldn't remember the last time he had had company over, much less sexual company.

Demetry turned to face Dubois again, smiling. "You may do anything you dare, you massive simpleton. Anything you think will please me. And mark my words--if I am not pleased, you won't be either. I am a man you want to please." He tucked his hair behind his ear, as if in preparation.

"Do you have lube?" he asked, grinning. "I mean, if you were smart, you would."

Dubois couldn't help but chuckled to himself. He was actually looking forward to this. He hadn't thought he would, so this was a pleasant surprise.

"You don't mind anal, right?" He asked, trying to hide his smile.

"It's on the dresser next to the condoms, you unobservant twat," he replied, unable to hold back the last part. "Don't tell me you're stalling."

Nonetheless, he squirmed away from Dubois and reached for the purple plastic container.

"Where do I put it?" he asked flatly. "I take it you'll have to bend over, if that's the kind of thing you like?"

"What, you expect me to top?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd expected as much, but that didn't change his reluctance.

He sat up, cracking his neck absently. It had been a really long time since he'd actually done anal, though. Though it was an overly common request, his answer was almost always no. It wasn't really a favorite thing of his. Unless he was topping, of course. That changed everything.

"Wouldn't you prefer something else?" he asked, a twinge of hope in his voice.

"I don't know what I'd prefer," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "I thought we've been through this--your job as a whore is to pleasure me. That's literally all you have to do."

He stared at the bottle of lube in his hand, scanning the ingredients. It looked harmless, like some kind of hair gel or lotion, but it was somehow much more intimidating. He could feel his stomach churn at the mere thought of breaking the protective seal. Grape flavor, the label said. Did he even like grape?

He looked at Dubois again, rousing himself from his nervous musings.

"I prefer whatever will feel good, you ignoramus. Now pick what you want to do and tell me how to proceed--I would command you in an instant had I more experience, but it's your job to better acquaint me with sex. That's why as of right now you still have your badge."

"Then I'll top," he decided, holding out his hand. "Hand over the lube, since you don't know what you're even doing. I'll be gentle."

Gilles actually had no intention of being gentle, but he doubted Demetry would trust him to do this unless he at least pretended.

"You want me to choose the position, too, I guess," he sighed slightly. "We can start simple."

Demetry gritted his teeth, his eyes bulging.

"No," he said, slowly and clearly. "Even I'm aware of the...connotation of that type of behavior. I am not a faggot, Officer Dubois--merely curious. Your place is below me, not the other way around."

Heat rose to his face; his skin concealed it for the most part, but the blood swimming in his head made it difficult to collect his thoughts.

"I refuse to be made of a fool of. I will not allow myself to be put into this kind of compromising situation." He glared at the lubricant in his hand, his knuckles pale as he gripped the bottle more tightly. "...If we do that, I will be on top. I am a dominant personality, if you hadn't noticed, Dubois. My bloodtype is A, my father is a senator, and I don't belong under the command of a whore like you. I call the shots here.

"So come up with something else, if you don't want me inside of you," he grumbled, glancing to the side. "I refuse to be anywhere but on top of you in that situation."

Impulsively, Gilles grabbed Demetry's hair and roughly shoved him face down onto the bed, forcing his cheek onto the sheets. He leaned over Demetry, his grip on his hair tightening.

"If you weren't a faggot, then you shouldn't have asked me to fuck you," he hissed, leaning onto him, so as to reassert the dominant one in the current situation. He pressed his back against Demetry's, running his hands along the other man's thighs. He reached over to grab the lubricant from him.

"You'll either give me the lubricant, or I'm going to use my spit, and there's only one way this ends without blood."

He quietly handed the lube to Dubois, though his fingers dug ferociously into the sheets. He struggled to sit up, but Dubois' weight was too much.

"I don't want this," he said, trembling. "I do not want this, Dubois--I will make your life so difficult if you fail to pleasure me. So goddamn difficult. Do you even understand? I will ruin you, and I will do it as slowly as possible. I do not want this, and you are not going to do it."

He swallowed, and his body grew still again.

"...I don't want to ruin you. Not yet. Now do something to pleasure me instead of yourself, and we will continue without incident. But if you dare to defile me in this way, I won't hold back." Demetry chuckled softly. "You don't even know how fucked you'll be."

"If it's going to happen either way, it may as well happen sooner," he said calmly, despite his shaky hands.

Where were his morals when he needed them? He shouldn't forcibly hold down a man and force him into anal. Then again, the very same man shouldn't blackmail him. It wasn't something his already questionable morals covered. Gilles toyed with the container of lube, contemplating on his decision. There were only two ways this would go, and only one way would satisfy him.

"No matter what I do, you'll ruin me," he was mostly talking to himself. "If that's true, then forcing you to do it sooner makes my life easier. No more guessing if I'll lose my job, at least I'll know. Maybe I'll move back to Canada, or France."

His grip on the bottle tightened.

"My humiliation is temporary, but what about yours?"

Decision made, he opened the bottle of lubricant and squeezed a rather conservative amount on his hand.

A single drop of sweat rolled down Demetry's forehead. He had never been in a scrape like this before. Convicts, mafia men with guns, superiors in the police academy--he had always had room to turn a situation around. He had never been physically pinned down like this before, unable to break free. For the first time in his life, he felt like a caged animal.

He was silent and still as he calculated in his head--what was the best way to turn this situation around? He was pretty sure he was about to be raped by this man, the very one he was blackmailing. Rape was a complete loss of power, something for the weak--they called them rape victims. He swallowed, attempting to also swallow his fear.

Finally, he cleared his voice and spoke.

"Dubois, you sick coward...I cannot believe it took you this long to suggest this." He laughed, his voice muffled by the sheets. "Did you miss my hints? The gratuitous verbal foreshadowing?

"I have been curious about this particular act, you lummox. But did you honestly think I'd openly ask? It took you long enough to make me submit--now just make sure you don't crush me. And make it pleasurable as well, or you may truly displease me for the first time tonight. I'm sure you'd rather not see that."

He blinked, confused. He had just been about to let Demetry go so he could give him a simple handjob. He wasn't that much of a douche, even if he had seriously thought about it for a second.

"...are you sure?" He asked, finally sitting up and off of Demetry. "Are you...sure?"

He looked at his hands, trying to wipe them onto his pants before he realized. Then, he just hastily wiped the lube onto the sheets.

"I was just going to give you a handjob."

The heat swarmed to his cheeks, until they were visibly rosier than the rest of his face. This was certainly a development. He cleared his throat, masking a sigh of relief.

"Ah. If that's really what you're comfortable with, then perhaps we should warm up like that?" he said, shrugging. "I certainly don't want to do anything my whore isn't sure of--the goal is pleasure, after all.

"No, I don't want that at all. A hand job will suffice, but it has to be particularly good."

Demetry rolled onto his back, smirking at Dubois.

"I'd hate to give you something you couldn't handle, Officer."