Gloucester is a long-time Velvet Glove sub who's not getting any younger, and he's never found anyone to call his own. Then he meets Katashi, a quiet, serious Top, who's drawn to Gloucester, inviting him to a meal, and a session. The two of them find they have more in common than they thought, and begin a journey of a thousand miles with a single step.
Originally published on the Turn of the Screw Serial service and in the paperback volume, Velvet Glove 1.
Gloucester's Journey Begins With A Single Step
Gloucester was in mourning.
Oh, all right, that was an exaggeration. But damn it, everyone was so dammed happy for Des and he... it wasn't that he wasn't happy, but, well, the best top in the club was going private.
Malachi might take exception to being put second to Des, but the truth was, Mal was busy running the training and while Glous was often called upon to help out, it wasn't the same thing. At all. He wasn't a selfish man, but he was getting older and he was alone.
And he made a maudlin drunk. Even if he wasn't actually inebriated, having only had a single shot of whiskey. Of course, maybe that was the problem. Maybe he needed to get drunk, let it all out, and then tomorrow he could once again be the quiet, controlled, intense man everyone was familiar with.
He ordered a double shot and took it to a quiet table in the corner, watching the dancers on the floor.
An hour later, the drink remained untouched on his table and he had found his calm center once again. He wasn't the type of man who drowned his sorrows in booze and, truth be told, his biggest problem right now was he was throwing himself a fine little pity party.
Des was his friend and he had never seen the man so happy. Gloucester was truly happy for him. And if Des could find someone after all this time? Well there was hope for him.
Feeling much better, he went up to the playrooms, looking for some action.
It was all normal, average, simple.
Then a door opened and a sub was wheeled out on a board, his top close beside him. The sub had been bound by dozens of different colored ropes around his cock and chest, fingers and balls, tied so securely the man couldn't move, couldn't shift. A dark-haired man looked out of the doorway. "In one hour, cut the red ropes and set him free. You understand? Not more than one hour."
Gloucester felt a frisson of interest slide along his spine as he walked by the two men, only glancing at them briefly before he focussing the man in the doorway. Black-black eyes met his, sure and still and intense. "Good evening."
"Hello." Oh, hello.