Table of Contents

Definition and Etymology - 2

Shine Out Brightly by Alexa Snow - 3

Waxing Jack by Elle Parker - 13

Deck the Sub by Sean Michael - 24

Contributors' Bios - 40

Definition: noun

1. a long, usually slender piece of tallow or wax with an embedded wick that is burned to
give light.

Source: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/candle

Etymology: O.E. candel, early church-word borrowing from L. candela "a light, torch," from
candere "to shine," from PIE base *kand- "to glow, to shine, to shoot out light" (cf. Skt. cand-
"to give light, shine," candra- "shining, glowing, moon;" Gk. kandaros "coal;" Welsh cann
"white;" M.Ir. condud "fuel").

Source: http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=candle&searchmode=none

Shine Out Brightly

by Alexa Snow

Eric took a deep breath before pushing open the door to the diner. The air outside was crisp
and sharp, the mid-December weather predictably cold even though they hadn't had any snow
yet. Eric's nose was cold, and his ears were, too, a little bit, even beneath the wool hat he'd
managed to dig out of his closet while looking for the gloves that were still missing. When he
opened the door, a blast of warm air that smelled like French fries and onions hit him full on.

Cilla, who'd been a waitress there as long as he could remember, smiled at him, and then tilted
her head toward the booth where Jack was sitting. It was lunchtime and the diner was
crowded, but Eric's eyes would have gone to Jack immediately no matter how many people
were in the room. He took another deep breath and crossed to join his boyfriend. Ex-
boyfriend, maybe.

"Hey," Jack said. "Thanks for meeting me."

Still not sure he wanted to sit down, Eric shifted his weight to his other foot and rubbed a
hand across the sleeve on his opposite arm. "I wasn't sure I was going to."

"I know. And I would have understood if you hadn't." Jack looked appropriately guilty, at
least. "Are you going to sit down?"

"I don't know." There were Christmas carols playing, not too loudly, over the speakers.
Usually Eric loved Christmas carols, but right now they just annoyed him.

They'd had a huge fight the night before. Huge. The biggest fight Eric had had with anyone,
anywhere. Not that he'd had all that many relationships, and he'd gotten the impression that

boyfriends -- or girlfriends, though his experience with those was even more limited -- were
the ones you really tended to fight with.

"Please," Jack said, and Eric relented and sat, sliding into the other side of the booth. "Look --
I know last night was pretty fucked up, and I'm sorry."

Eric gave him a disbelieving look. "Last night was fucked up? What about what you did?"

"I didn't do anything," Jack told him, and when Eric started to get up, Jack reached across the
table and grabbed his hand. "I didn't. Hell, I'm the one who should be pissed off -- you're the
one who doesn't trust me."

"Because you're going out to clubs and lying about it!" Eric said, his voice louder than it
should have been. People's heads turned to look at them -- at him -- and he flushed and
lowered his voice again. "Taking men's numbers. What else have you been doing on the
nights we're not together?"

"How many nights have there been when we're not together?" Jack asked, clearly exasperated.
"I could probably count them on one hand." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face; his
other hand was still on Eric's, and no matter how angry and hurt he was, Eric couldn't bring
himself to pull away. "I would never do anything to betray your trust, I swear it. I love you.
You know that."

Eric looked down at their hands. God, Jack had great hands, and the things they did to him...
"I thought I did."

"Do you want me to tell you again? What happened, I mean?" Jack slid his other hand across
the table, picked up Eric's and cradled it between both of his. "I wasn't lying when I said I
worked late the other night. You can check with Charlie if it'll make you feel better."

"And after, you went out for some drinks," Eric repeated, since he knew it was coming
anyway. "And a guy hit on you."

"He wrote his number down on that card you found." Jack brushed a thumb across Eric's
knuckles, and Eric let him. "Nothing else happened. Nothing would have happened. I wasn't
interested in that guy. I only want you."

Eric drew in a shuddering breath. He wanted to believe Jack -- wanted to believe him so much
-- but it wasn't that simple. It was, he was starting to realize, more about Jack's reaction to the
situation than the situation itself. "You told me to let it go," he said accusingly. "Like that was
your call to make. Like I wasn't entitled to more than ten minutes to process what had
happened."

Jack looked surprised. After a minute, he said, "That wasn't what I was trying to do."

"Well, it's what you did. And it can't keep happening. You don't get to decide stuff for me.
You can't-- you can't just control everything like that."

"Then I'll stop," Jack said. "I promise. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Anything you want."

"I-- I don't know what I want." Eric swallowed and blinked back sudden tears.

"Please," Jack said again. "Please, Eric. You know I love you. You know that, right?"

And Eric found himself nodding. "I know."

"Let me show you how much. Come over tonight and I'll cook you dinner. It'll be romantic."
Jack knew how much Eric appreciated a romantic gesture, as Eric knew. "Say yes."

"Well... I..." Part of Eric wanted to say no, but the rest of him yearned for Jack so strongly
that he couldn't possibly do so. "Okay. Yes."

***

Eric was still regretting having agreed to dinner as he got ready that evening, but that didn't
stop him from having a ten-minute argument with himself about which shirt to wear. He
finally settled for the blue one, because on a couple of occasions Jack had commented on how
blue his eyes were, and a shirt the same color ought to bring that it out even more, right?

Oh, he was so fucked.

He and Jack had been seeing each other for eight months, which in retrospect was an
interesting number because it was the same as the number of years between them -- Eric was
twenty-five and Jack was thirty-three. It could easily have felt like an unreasonable gap, and
currently it did. Eric was sick of feeling like the inexperienced one, the kid who needed to be
taken care of, to be screwed and screwed over. Well, no more.

Knocking on the door to Jack's apartment, he was aware of a sensation of being in a place that
should have been comfortable and familiar, but instead just felt wrong. He had a key in his
pocket that unlocked the door, but it didn't seem right to use it.

Jack opened the door within seconds, like he'd been watching out the window for Eric's car.
"Hi."

"Hi," Eric said.

Jack was broad-shouldered, with dark hair that managed to look ever-casual and sexy at the
same time, and was wearing a T-shirt half a size too small -- heck, maybe a whole size. It
pulled across his chest and peaked around the tiny nipples Eric loved to touch. "Come in,"
Jack said, gesturing, then stepped behind him and slipped the buttons on his jacket free from
their holes. "Let me take your coat," he murmured.

"Okay." Now this was nice, being treated like someone deserving. To be fair, it wasn't that
Jack had ever treated him badly -- assuming his story about the phone number in his pocket
was the truth. It was more that this early stuff, the romantic dating gestures, had sort of
slipped away, leaving practicality in their wake.

Eric looked around the apartment -- it was open concept, so that wasn't hard to do; he could
see everything but the bathroom and bedroom from the front door -- and blinked in shock. It

was so different. For one thing, it was clean. Like, 'just been cleaned by a cleaning service'
clean.

"What do you think?" Jack asked.

"I think I accidentally stepped through a portal into another dimension," Eric said, turning in a
slow circle. "What happened?"

"I wanted to show you," Jack said. "That I'm really serious about this."

"Yeah, this is serious, all right." No more piles of old magazines on every flat surface, no
clothes scattered around. In the corner near the window, there was an actual Christmas tree,
with lights and ornaments and everything. "You got a tree."

Jack nodded. "Seemed like the thing to do."

"You never did before."

"Well, now I am. Because I want you to know how much you mean to me. You like it, right?"

Eric looked toward the dining area, where the table was set with what he was pretty sure were
new dishes. There were even candles and some kind of centerpiece. "Yeah," he admitted.
"Yeah, I like it."

"Good. Come on and sit down, and I'll get dinner."

"Don't tell me you cooked," Eric said, more shocked about that than he'd been about anything
else so far. He let Jack propel him to the table, where he sank down into the chair that Jack
pulled out for him.

Jack laughed and shook his head. "You know me better than that. Cooking wouldn't have
been doing you any favors. No, I got Indian from that new place on Madison. The one with
the elephant?"

"Oh, right." Eric had been meaning to try the restaurant's lunch buffet and had mentioned it
more than once, but hadn't actually gotten over there yet.

"So, I got a little of everything," Jack said, bringing some containers from the microwave.
"Well, not everything, but a lot. Vindaloo and biryani and curry and tikka masala -- oh, and an
appetizer sampler! That's in the oven." He went to retrieve it, sliding the appetizers from the
baking sheet onto a plate and carrying that to the table, too. "I think that's everything."

"It smells great," Eric said. "It looks great. All of it."

Jack hesitated, not sitting down. "Do you want wine?"

"Sure."

"Red or white?"

"I don't know," Eric said. "Which goes with Indian?"

"I have no idea." Jack held up two bottles and frowned, scrutinizing the labels. "I guess
whichever kind they have in India. Not that I know what that is. I probably should have asked
at the liquor store."

"At the place you go?" Eric snorted. "They would have thought you were talking about Native
Americans and suggested you buy beer instead."

"Hey, it's not that bad." Jack shrugged and set the bottle of red wine back down before picking
up the corkscrew. "How about white? You like white better, don't you?"

"Uh-huh." Eric was kind of surprised that Jack knew that; it wasn't like they drank a lot of
wine, and Jack wasn't the kind of guy to remember little details. There were other things about
him that made him good boyfriend material, but that kind of focus wasn't one of them. His
arms, though, Eric mused as he watched Jack pull the cork from the top of the bottle, forearm
tightening... his arms were exemplary. It was enough to make Eric wish it weren't December,
that Jack was wearing a shirt with short sleeves so those defined biceps could be properly
appreciated.

"There. Is it good?" Jack had poured him some wine and set the glass down at his elbow.

"Oh, the food?" Distracted, Eric tried to force his brain away from the wonder that was Jack's
body. "Yeah, it's great." He took a bite of chicken tikka masala and washed it down with a
hasty sip of wine, then realized that Jack was doing it again -- controlling everything, even
without meaning to. Eric set down his fork and leaned back in his chair.

Jack sat down and watched him. "What?"

"You're doing it again." At Jack's confused look, he went on, "Taking charge. Of everything.
You invite me over; you decide what we're having for dinner. You even choose the wine."

"I thought you wanted white," Jack said, sounding aggrieved, and Eric waved it away.

"I know, I did. But that's not the point. You just... you take over. Even when you're trying to
do something nice -- and don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, it is nice -- you end up
controlling the whole situation. And me, too."

Jack looked troubled. He started to say something, stopped, then started again. "I don't mean
to. I'm not trying to control you." His voice was soft, and Eric believed him.

"I know. I'm not saying it's a conscious thing, or that -- that you're doing it deliberately. You
just do it. And it has to stop. For me. I can't -- I can't keep letting you call all the shots."

Nodding slowly, Jack said, "Okay. So what do we do?"

Eric rubbed his forehead and tried to think. Part of him was annoyed that Jack was leaving it
to him to come up with a solution, but it wasn't like he could say that, because that was
exactly the dynamic they were trying to get away from. "You have to let me be in charge."

"Yeah?" A smile spread across Jack's face. "I think I can do that. So what's your first order?"

"Well, first, eat your dinner," Eric said, unaccountably irritable.

"Yes, sir," Jack said. He dropped his eyes to his plate, and Eric's dick gave a sudden jolt
inside his pants.

Jesus.

Jack didn't say anything while he ate, but he did occasionally look up at Eric, his gaze
lingering and warm. It made eating more than a little difficult. Eric finished what he'd
originally dished onto his plate without adding more -- it was half what he usually would have
eaten -- then drank the rest of his wine and stood up. Jack's plate was clean, his expression
expectant.

"Push out your chair," Eric told him, and Jack did. The chair didn't have any arms, so it was
easy enough to straddle Jack's thighs. Was sitting on Jack's lap taking control, or putting
himself in a position of being the one who was cared for? Eric wasn't sure, but he did know
that his body liked it; he was hard, and he took Jack's mouth in a forceful kiss that only made
him harder. Jack tasted like spices and wine. Jack reached his hands up to tangle in Eric's hair
--

"Uh-uh," Eric said, shaking his head and pushing Jack's hands back down. "Remember who's
in charge."

"Right," Jack said. "Sorry." He didn't have a chance to say anything else because Eric was
kissing him again, opening Jack's mouth with his own and slicking his tongue inside. Jack
moaned softly and Eric ate it up. He sucked on Jack's lower lip, then bit at it, feeling the flesh
give under his teeth. By the time he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.

Eric stood up, and then reached down and palmed his hand over Jack's erection. "Take off
your clothes."

"Here?" Jack asked, lips twitching with amusement.

It was the amusement that made Eric angry; what was the point of this if Jack just thought it
was all a big joke? "Yes, here. Do it."

Jack might have been able to tell, from that, how seriously Eric was taking this, because he
stopped grinning, smoothing out his expression as he stood up and started taking off his
clothes.

They'd had sex all over Jack's apartment. Once, Jack had fucked him up against the front
door, when they'd been so hot for each other neither of them had been able to bear the thought
of walking the extra twenty-five feet to the bedroom. But this... this felt different. It felt
hotter.

Reaching out, Eric thumbed one of Jack's nipples almost casually, just to see it tighten. Jack
paused, ready to push down his pants and underwear at the same time, and Eric frowned.
"Keep going."

By the time Jack was naked, cock standing at attention, Eric had developed at least a tentative
plan of attack.

"Good," he said. "Now mine."

Jack gave him a surprised look, like he hadn't expected that, but didn't hesitate long before
starting to undress Eric, beginning with his button-down shirt. It wasn't until his pants were
around his ankles that Eric realized he still had his shoes on. He felt himself flush when Jack,
on his knees, paused and looked up at him questioningly. "The shoes, too," he said, in as firm
a voice as he could manage while blushing and, with one hand braced on the dining room
table, managed to keep himself upright while Jack untied his shoes and eased them off.

"Now what?" Jack asked, still on his knees, fingers brushing Eric's bare calf. He gave Eric's
cock a hungry look and Eric decided it was okay for Jack to blow him if it was something
they both wanted.

"Suck me," he said, and stifled a groan as Jack's mouth closed around the tip of his cock. In
the eight months they'd been together, Jack had probably sucked his cock less than a dozen
times; it just didn't seem to be something he was in the mood for very often, though he was
good enough at it that Eric knew he had to have gotten his practice in somewhere. Now, as
Jack pulled back, lips sliding the length of his dick, suction firm, Eric thought he'd have to ask
for this more often.

"Should I make you come?" Jack murmured, licking around the head of his cock with a wide,
flat drag of his tongue before taking Eric in again, deep.

It wasn't, Eric remembered, about Jack making him do anything. "No," he said hoarsely. "But
I'm gonna come in your mouth." And he slid his fingers into Jack's hair, got a good grip, and
thrust his hips forward a little bit, fucking Jack's mouth.

Jack inhaled through his nose sharply, but didn't otherwise protest, and after half a minute or
so Eric felt him relax, the back of his tongue going slack.

"God, you look so good like this," Eric heard himself saying. "And you know it, don't you,
you smug bastard?" It wasn't the nicest word, but he said it with affection, and the upturned
look Jack gave him as he thrust in again wasn't offended. "I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come --
right in your--" His orgasm swept through him like a rush of warm water, come pulsing into
Jack's mouth, and left him gasping and weak-legged.

He pulled away and sank down into the nearest chair, which felt cold against his bare ass.

"Okay?" Jack asked, nuzzling his inner thigh. The head of Jack's cock was slick and left a
damp, cool spot where it bumped Eric's ankle.

Eric tightened his jaw and said, "Yeah, but not done. Not by a long shot." He was determined
to do this right, and even if he didn't know what that meant, he was pretty sure it wasn't one
orgasm and then back to business as usual. "Let's go to bed."

As he stood up again on still-shaky legs, one of the candles flickering on the table caught his
attention. It was in a solid glass block of a candle holder, and didn't look likely to tip over, so
he grabbed it and followed Jack to the bedroom.

"Don't turn on the lights. Hm. Actually, yes, lights." He wanted to be able to see Jack. He
flicked the light switch himself and gestured at the bed. "Lie down."

Obediently, Jack did, though he lay on his side in a position Eric was well familiar with.

"On your back," Eric said. Jack rolled onto his back as Eric set the candle holder down on the
bedside table and went to the closet.

"What are you looking for?" Jack asked after he'd spent a minute rummaging.

"I don't know," Eric said, frustrated. "Something -- oh, this will work." It was a scarf, but a
thin one, worn soft with age and long enough for his purposes. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" Jack asked. "What are you--?" Jack stopped as Eric knelt on the bed and draped the
scarf over his eyes. "Eric..."

"I'm the one in charge, remember?" Eric said, tying the scarf and tugging to make sure it was
tight. "Trust me."

Those seemed to be the magic words; Jack relaxed and nodded. "Okay. I do." He looked calm
except for his dick.

Eric didn't think that was going to last long.

He traced Jack's lips with a light fingertip, then ran his hand down to one nipple and circled it
until Jack's cock twitched. "You gonna kiss me?" Jack asked huskily.

"Eventually." Eric pinched Jack's nipple tightly and Jack gasped, hips lifting. "But first I want
to try something else."

Reaching over, he picked up the candle holder and held it over Jack's chest. He knew there
was part of Jack that would like this mild sort of pain play, but it still felt unnatural to be the
one in the position of power, even if Jack had agreed to it.

"Do you know what I'm holding?" he asked.

Jack cleared his throat and licked his lips. "No," he said, and Eric tipped the candle. The small
amount of melted wax that had accumulated around the wick fell onto Jack, hitting him just
below the right nipple. "Jesus!" Jack's hand groped blindly for Eric, found his knee and
grabbed on. He drew a shaky breath, and laughed just as shakily. "Didn't know you had it in
you."

Eric smiled even though Jack couldn't see it. "No?" He set the candle down again and leaned
in, sucking on Jack's nipple. He brushed his fingers up the inside of Jack's thigh and Jack
jerked, froze, then relaxed -- Eric realized Jack had been expecting more wax. "Shh. I'll warn
you," he said, murmuring the words against Jack's skin.

"Okay." Jack pressed his lips together. "God, I'm so turned on right now."

"I can tell." Eric palmed Jack's cock briefly, just long enough to make Jack utter a soft groan,
then he picked up the candle again and said, "Now," in a casual tone before dripping hot wax
onto the crease between Jack's groin and thigh.

"Fuck!" Jack arched his body. "That hurts! Eric, just --"

"Now," Eric said again, and dripped wax onto Jack's inner thigh just beneath his balls.

Jack's hands tightened into fists, and he sank his teeth into his lower lip but didn't say
anything. He wasn't restrained in any way, Eric reminded himself; if Jack wanted this to stop,
he could move, take off his makeshift blindfold, even grab Eric's hand. Jack didn't do any of
those things, though. He just lay there and waited.

Fumbling in the bedside table drawer, Eric found Jack's lube and the condoms. He tossed a
condom onto the bed near Jack's feet for later, and then slicked a finger with lube. "Bend your
knees and spread your legs," he said, and knelt between Jack's thighs when his partner
obeyed. "Shh. Here."

He teased at Jack's hole with his fingertip, not trying to get inside, just getting things good and
slick, stroking gently over the sensitive flesh until Jack was panting. Then he picked up the
candle again with his other hand.

"Now," Eric said, and tilted hot wax onto Jack's left nipple.

"Again." This time he dripped it onto Jack's abdomen.

"Again." Now it was the head of Jack's cock, and Jack shouted and writhed.

"Fuck me," Jack gasped. It was almost a shock to hear him ask for it -- he never had before.
Eric had finger-fucked him while sucking him off, but that was as far as they'd gone. "Eric,
please. I need..."

"I know," Eric said. He blew out the candle, jerked it from its holder, and slicked the base of it
with lube before easing it into Jack.

Jack was so tense Eric was afraid it might hurt, so he took it slowly and carefully. "God," Jack
moaned. "Is that..."

"Yeah," Eric said, pushing the candle a bit deeper. "You want it, don't you?"

Nodding, Jack inhaled sharply and grabbed onto a handful of the bed covers. "God. Please."
His hips lifted an inch or two. "Please touch me."

"Soon," Eric promised. He pulled the candle out and slid it in again, and Jack shuddered and
moaned. "You like this. You like me fucking you." Eric's own cock was achingly hard again,
desperate for some contact, but he wanted to take this a little bit further.

Jack's cock was flushed a deep red, the drip of hardened wax on the head obscene looking, his
balls drawn up tight. Beneath them, the candle disappeared into his body, and then
reappeared, glistening with lube. Eric shifted the angle with his next slow thrust and Jack
cried out, almost sobbing with the need for release.

"That's right." Eric thrust it into him again and Jack's cock twitched, his body trembling. "I'm
gonna fuck you with my dick now."

Jack made a low-pitched but eager sound.

"And I want you to see me when I do it." Unable to wait any longer, Eric withdrew the
candle, letting it fall to the floor. He swiftly smoothed a condom onto his cock, then tugged
Jack's blindfold free before pressing against Jack's wet, swollen hole and shoving himself
inside as Jack's wide eyes focused on him, full of desire and need.

"Fuck, yes!" Jack cried, legs wrapping around Eric, heels digging into his ass as they found a
rhythm. They moved together, the sweat that had beaded on Jack's skin dampening Eric's.

"Jesus, you feel so good," Eric muttered, fucking into Jack's hot, slick ass more quickly.
"Should have done this a long time ago. Should've fucked you before, made you mine." He
shifted his weight onto one arm and wrapped his other hand around Jack's erection.

Groaning, Jack locked eyes with Eric. "Am yours. Just yours. I'm -- oh, Jesus --" He started to
come, his body tightening around Eric's dick in waves that threatened to end this unless Eric
could keep control.

Which was what this was all about.

Eric gritted his teeth and kept moving, kept stroking Jack's cock, coaxing the last few pulses
from it until Jack made a sound more about pain than pleasure. Then he let go, braced both
hands on the mattress, and fucked Jack for all he was worth, deep, fast strokes. It was like
nothing he'd ever felt before, so tight and intense, so good that he never wanted it to end. But
then Jack spread his legs even wider, lifted up to meet Eric's thrusts, and Eric shoved into him
one more time and then froze, caught in the moment before orgasm. Every nerve in his body
hung on the edge of ecstasy -- and then they all tipped over at once, release searing through
him so powerfully that it overwhelmed him and he collapsed down onto Jack.

"Hey. Hey, you okay there?" Jack was patting his shoulder and hair, sounding amused and
maybe a little bit concerned. "Eric?"

He made an affirmative grunt and forced himself up, easing his dick out of Jack and lying
down beside him. "Hm. What about you?" Eric rubbed a fingertip over a droplet of wax
where it clung to Jack's skin.

Jack stretched and grinned in a lazy sort of way. "Are you kidding? That might have been the
best sex I've ever had." Jack rolled toward Eric and kissed him, slowly and leisurely, then
pulled back and looked at him with a serious expression. "You believe me, right?"

"What, about the phone number thing?" Eric thought about it for a few seconds, and then
nodded. "Yeah. Yes, I do. I should have from the beginning."

Shaking his head, Jack said, "No, I should have told you about it from the beginning, instead
of keeping quiet and leaving you to find it and make assumptions."

"No, I should have--"

Jack stopped him with two fingers pressed to his lips. "How about you let yourself be right
once in a while?"

"Oh," Eric said. "Um. Yeah, okay." He shifted onto his side, facing Jack, rid himself of the
used condom with a grimace and a flick of his wrist -- it missed the trash can -- and looked
back at Jack just as seriously. "If you'll let yourself be controlled. Once in a while."

"How about -- and this is just an idea, it's up to you, but... how about more than once in a
while?" Jack smiled so widely it lit up the room brighter than a hundred candles could have.
"You could consider it an early Christmas present?"

Eric hitched himself up onto an elbow and kissed Jack, then said, "I think I can live with that."

Waxing Jack

by Elle Parker

Jack Jones stood in the drive, looking up at the huge, stone mansion with its sprawling,
manicured lawn and gleaming windows. It was hard to believe they had a cockroach
infestation. Then again, cockroaches could live anywhere, and he supposed they liked to live
in style as much as anyone else.

He turned back to his truck and started hauling out the equipment, strapping a heavy tank of
insecticide on his back and perching the safety goggles and breathing mask on his head. Who
you gonna call, right? He snorted at his own joke and slammed the door shut.

Spraying for bugs had never been on the list of things he thought he'd be doing in life. Shit,
most of the jobs he'd had (and lost) weren't on that list. Unfortunately, his preference for wild
nights and wilder behavior had cost him what few opportunities he'd had. Really, he was more
suited for professions like "rock star" and "race car driver." Turned out, though, pretty boy
looks and a hot bod weren't enough to make it as a rock star. You really did need to have
talent. And you had to be sober to race cars.

Jack trotted up the stone steps and rang the bell, leaning to peer through the long side window.
After a moment, a lanky young guy came striding through the entry way, wiping his hands on
his pants before opening the door. He was visibly taken aback by Jack's appearance and
frowned.

"Can I, ahh... help you?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, pulling a wad of paper from the pocket of his dirty jeans. "Is this 1564
Billings?"

"Yeah." The guy still sounded dubious.

Jack grinned. "Okay, then. I'm from Wil-Kil Exterminators. Got a call that you folks had
some cockroach trouble?"

"I don't think--"

"It's all right, Matt," boomed a voice from inside. "I called them. You can let him in."

Matt stepped out of the way, holding the door open, but he still looked confused. Jack grinned
and went inside.

The voice of his rescuer belonged to a tall, handsome man who looked to be in his late forties,
if Jack was any judge. As it happened, Jack was a pretty good judge of tall, handsome men.
He admired the striking, angular features of the man's face, and continued looking right on
down the lean, muscular body. His host was wearing a green silk robe and, by Jack's
estimation, nothing else. Maybe this job didn't suck so bad after all.

"I'm Elliott Scott," the man said, extending a hand and a thousand-watt smile. The glint in his
eye suggested that he'd caught Jack's appraisal of him and liked it.

"Jack Jones. Friends call me Idaho Jack. Folks at work just call me Killer."

They shook hands, and then Elliott said, "Why don't you drop your equipment there by the
door. You're not going to be needing it anyway."

Jack furrowed his brow. "I won't? Don't you want me to take care of the roaches?"

Elliott smiled and gave a dismissive wave. "Nope. We don't have any. That was just to get
you here. The real reason I wanted you is for a job interview. Now get that stuff off and let's
get down to business."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Matt smirk with dawning comprehension and then
disappear back into whatever part of the house he'd come from. Jack slipped off the tanks and
set them carefully on the polished tile floor, dumping his goggles and breathing mask on top.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the closet door and wondered what kind of
job interview he was currently fit for. His dusty blond hair was a scraggly mess (which was,
admittedly, how he wore it all the time anyway), he hadn't shaved in days, leaving fuzzy
scruff on his chin and around his lips, and his T-shirt and jeans were dirty from crawling
around where bugs lived. He resisted the urge to sniff his pits.

"So, ah... what kind of a job are we talkin' about here, because I gotta tell ya... I don't
remember applying for one." Not like that meant anything. He was pretty used to hearing
about things he'd done that he didn't actually recall.

Elliott smirked and looked at Jack with that wicked glint in his eye. "You didn't," he said,
giving Jack an obvious once over. "I saw you working at the China Garden last week and I
liked your look. I also got the impression that you're a guy who likes to have a good time."

This was starting to sound damn promising. Jack slid his hands into his jeans pockets and
leaned casually against the wall. "Well, now, you sure got that right. I'm always up for a little
fun. What exactly is this job?"

"Come upstairs and we'll talk business," Elliott said, jerking his head toward the stairs and
leading the way.

Oh yeah. Jack bounded up after Elliot, contemplating the various possibilities suggested by a
job that involved having fun and being interviewed upstairs by a nearly naked man. He also
contemplated the long muscular legs in front of him.

Elliott took him to a large suite decorated in dark woods and jewel toned fabrics. A fat sofa
faced a large fireplace, and nearby stood a fully stocked bar and a big flat-panel TV. Through
wide double doors, Jack could see a gigantic bed and he caught a glimpse into the bathroom.

"Would you like a drink?" Elliott asked, pouring himself a couple inches of amber liquor from
a cut-glass bottle.

"Yeah, sure," Jack said. He wandered over and took the glass Elliott slid toward him. "Nice
place you got here."

"Thanks." Elliott beamed with smug self satisfaction. "We like it."

Jack took a swig of his drink, and growled softly as the smooth whiskey slid down his throat.
He jerked his head with pleasure. "So... about this job?"

Elliott grinned. "Yeah, I imagine you're pretty curious by now." He came around the bar and
circled Jack, eyeing him up and even reaching out to run a finger along one of the tattoos on
Jack's arm.

"You could say that." Jack followed with his eyes and kept a cool stance. He was getting hard
under such careful scrutiny, but he didn't bother to hide it. As far as he could tell, a decent
erection would probably gain him points.

"All right, here's the deal," Elliott said, settling down on the sofa and motioning for Jack to
join him. "I basically have more money than God and, like you, I like to have a good time. I
also like to see other people have a good time. So, one day I decided to come up with a way to
spend my life, and my money, making sure guys like us got to do just that."

"And what did you come up with?" Jack asked. He leaned back against the cushions and
hitched one knee up, letting the other one fall open invitingly. It was clear that sex was
somehow involved in this venture, and he was definitely game for that. So far, he'd come up
with modeling and pornos as possible explanations, and he'd prefer either one of those to
spraying for cockroaches.

"Hardwood Mansion," Elliott said with pride. "What I run here is a fairly exclusive brothel
and call service. It's really kind of a resort for a certain breed of man."

Score. Jack grinned broadly, but then a thought struck him. "Oh, dude, please don't tell me
you're looking for a handyman or a towel boy or some shit..."

Elliott laughed out loud, and reached over to slap Jack on the thigh. He shook his head. "No,
no, I'm thinking you might make a nice addition to my stable. I did a little checking up on
you. Learned where you hang out and things like that. The other night, I paid a visit to the
club you go to, and I liked what I saw. You look great in a cowboy hat, by the way."

Jack smirked and licked his lip. "Stalking me, eh? Yeah, I get that a lot."

Elliott chuckled and took a sip of his drink, eyeing Jack over the edge of the glass. "So, are
you interested?"

"Shit, yeah! Where do I sign up?"

"First, we'll have the real interview," Elliott said, holding up a hand. "This was just the
introduction. If you're game, you can use the bathroom right through there to have a quick
shower and clean up. Not to put too fine a point on it, but you smell like insecticide."

Jack sniffed his shirt and made a face. "Yeah, sorry about that. Hazard of the job, you know."

"Well, if I'm right about you, you're not going to have to worry about that anymore. You can
spend the rest of your days smelling like expensive cologne, good cigars, and fine liquor."

"Oh, I like the sound of that," Jack said, standing up and putting his glass on the table. "I
won't be more than five minutes. Ten, tops. You're not wrong about me, you'll see."

Elliott flashed that blinding smile again. "I'm looking forward to it."

***

It was fifteen minutes, all told, when Jack climbed out of the shower and shook himself off
like a big yellow Labrador before looking for a towel. The expensive soap and shampoo in
Elliott's shower had an exotic spicy scent, and he kept stopping to smell his own arm as he
dried off. He could get used to this, and that meant he was willing to do just about whatever it
took to land the job.

Looking in the mirror, Jack scrubbed the towel over his head and raked his fingers through his
hair until it looked all right. There wasn't a lot he could do about the fuzz on his face, but he
didn't figure that would matter too much. Elliott had already seen him when he was out
cruising and knew he could look damn fine when the occasion called for it.

He slung the towel low around his hips and strode into the bedroom with a cocky attitude,
leaving his dirty clothes behind in a heap on the floor.

Elliott had drawn heavy drapes across all the windows and lit several red candles in tall glass
jars. Aside from the fireplace, they cast the only light in the room, giving it a warm glow.
There was also a large, navy-colored flannel sheet draped over the bed, which made it look
more like a stage.

"Nice," Jack said appreciatively, as Elliott came into the room with their drinks. "This is
downright cozy. Reminds me of a great little whorehouse down in Louisiana that I once

visited. They had a girl down there that could stuck the chrome right off a trailer hitch. Taught
me everything I know."

"Are you comparing my bedroom to a whorehouse?"

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but from what you were telling me, your bedroom is a
whorehouse."

Elliott chuckled. "You've got a point. I certainly have been known to entertain clients in here
from time to time."

"So...." Jack fingered the edge of his towel and gazed seductively at Elliott. "How do you
want to do this? I'm game for pretty much anything: top, bottom, hanging from the lights if
that's how you want me."

"Well," Elliott pulled open the tie of his robe. "After we get warmed up, I'm gonna see how
you are with candle play. I like to offer something out of the ordinary to my clients."

"Candle play, huh?" Jack glanced over at the table where the candles stood, along with an
assortment of other things, including a large bowl of ice. "You mean like with the hot wax
and everything?"

"Yup. Think you can handle it?" Elliott stepped in close and swept the back of his hand across
Jack's chest.

"Shit, yeah." Jack shrugged. "I have a pretty high tolerance for pain."

Elliott grinned and met his eye. "Oh, you're not going to be taking it. You're going to give it."

"Oh!" Jack mulled that over for a moment. "Sure, yeah, I got no problem with that. I guess it
stands to reason that you can handle it?"

"Oh, yeah," said Elliott in a low voice, pulling Jack's body against him. "I've been in this
business a long time; I can handle just about anything you throw at me."

With a deft hand, Elliott removed Jack's towel and set about exploring his finer qualities.
Elliott was a strong man with a sure and confident manner about him, and Jack enjoyed being
handled so expertly. Elliott smoothed his hands over the curve of Jack's ass and up along his
torso, circling around to stroke his chest. Then Elliot dipped down to cup Jack's balls,
weighing them in the palm of his hand. Jack hummed appreciatively. When Elliott's hand
closed around his cock, Jack grinned and rocked his hips in slow, seductive waves.

"What you think, boss?" he asked. "Do I pass inspection?"

"I like what I see so far," Elliott told him.

Jack figured it was time to start showing his stuff. He slipped his hands up over Elliott's broad
shoulders, knocking the robe off and letting it slither to the floor. He pressed close against
Elliott's chest, a teasing slide of skin against skin. The insistent prod of Elliott's erection dug

into his hip, and Jack glanced down to have a look. "Damn, dude," he said in awe. "You sure
as hell picked the right business to get into."

Elliott laughed and gave Jack a playful squeeze, then stepped back to take a sip of his drink
before climbing onto the bed. He arranged himself on his back, propped up on his elbows, and
looked at Jack expectantly.

"Show time, eh?" Jack rubbed his hands together. "Let's see what we can make happen." Jack
crawled up along Elliott's body and straddled him, smirking down at him wickedly. "You're
just big all over, aren't you? Reminds me of a summer I spent out west, bull riding."

"I expect you to stay on longer than eight seconds, you know."

"No worries, Elliott, my friend. I'm the king of the all-nighter, and I don't mean studying."

"Let's see what you've got then." Elliott arched an eyebrow at him and grinned.

Jack stood up and went over to examine the candles on the table. Each one of them had a few
inches of melted wax in the glass, floating on top of the candle. He picked one up. The glass
was warm to the touch at first, but as Jack carried it over to the bed, it began to feel hot and
his fingers burned. He switched hands and blew on his fingers, wiggling his eyebrows at
Elliott who watched intently. "You oughtta have oven mitts up here or something," Jack said.

Kneeling on the edge of the bed, Jack studied Elliott and chose a place to start. He leaned over
and held the candle really close, pouring a drizzle of wax onto Elliott's chest.

Elliott grimaced. "Hold it up a little higher so the wax has a chance to cool as it falls."

"Right, right, okay," Jack said, nodding. "Just testing your tolerance there."

He switched hands again, sticking a couple of fingers in his mouth to cool them. Holding the
glass a bit higher this time, he tipped it and let more wax fall across Elliott's chest. Wax
touched the flame and it guttered, spitting hot wax into the air, and startling Jack. He flinched
and, when he jerked his arm, a wave of wax flew out of the glass and landed on Elliott's
stomach with a heavy splat. Elliott swore.

"Shit. My bad," Jack said, switching hands yet again. He shook his burned fingers in the air.

"You know," Elliott said, sounding patient but mildly exasperated, "you can blow out the
flame and it won't get so hot while you're holding it."

"Ah, yeah," said Jack sheepishly. "I knew that."

He blew into the glass, but too hard, and caused yet more hot wax to splash out over his hand
and arm. Without thinking, he yanked his hand away... and sent the candle flying across the
room, where it landed on the carpet with a thud. He bit his lip and turned to look. Thankfully,
by that time the candle was out and there was no wax left to make a mess.

Turning back to Elliott, Jack blushed. "You know, this fancy shit isn't really where I do my
best work. What say you let me just give you a blowjob, huh? I'll make you swear in
languages that don't even exist."

To his relief, Elliott didn't look too put out. "I'll tell you what, Jack," he said. "You can do
whatever you like. As long as you use the candles."

"Ah." Jack pondered that for a moment. He went to get another candle and climbed back on
the bed, settling between Elliott's legs. Reaching out, he took Elliott's wrist. "Here, hold this,"
he said, stuffing the candle into Elliott's hand.

"What's the plan here?"

Jack smiled broadly. "Well, I'm gonna need some light to see by."

Elliott gazed at him flatly for a moment and licked his lips. "All right, get up," he said,
moving to the edge of the bed himself.

"Oh, wait," Jack pleaded. "I'm your man; I am totally the right guy for the job. You just have
to give me another chance."

Elliott held up a hand. "I'm not kicking you out; I'm going to show you how it's done. Lie
down on the bed, grab the rails of the headboard, and don't let go."

Relief swept over Jack and he smirked, throwing himself down onto his back with an excited
bounce. That earned him an amused grin from Elliott, and he knew the game was still on as
long he could take what Elliott was about to dish out. He reached up and took hold of the
wooden bars.

Elliott swung a leg over and straddled Jack's hips, looking large and dangerous in the
flickering light of the candle he held. Jack's flagging hard-on snapped back to attention, and
his pulse jumped. Blowing out the flame, Elliott held the glass high over Jack's chest and
tipped it slowly. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and tensed for a shot of pain, but it didn't come.
When he opened his eyes again, Elliott was watching him with a smug expression, candle still
poised to pour. Jack could see the hot liquid piling up at the edge of the glass, about to spill
over, but Elliot made him wait. Just when all Jack's nerves were at the height of their
awareness, Elliott let the wax fall.

Pain raced in a long, thin stream down Jack's chest, and he gasped as the wax hit him. He
arched his back against the mattress as Elliott continued to pour. A red line of intense heat
snaked its way along Jack's skin without any break in which to catch his breath.

When Elliott finally relented, Jack was panting heavily, gasping for air while his entire body
sung with pain that slowly ebbed away, leaving him hard and wanting. He fixed his wide-eyed
gaze on Elliott and said, "Holy shit, man, that is... fucking wild."

"Oh, yeah," Elliott said with a sly grin. "And that's just the start."

He started at Jack's collarbone and trickled another line of molten wax down the length of
Jack's torso. Jack panted, short anxious breaths, as the pain built again. When it slipped away,

his cock throbbed and he found it impossible to keep still. He moaned and closed his eyes,
trying to gain control of himself before the next round.

Elliott went to get a new candle and came back, standing at the side of the bed. This time, he
poured wax over Jack's thighs and hips, making him buck with a heady mix of pleasure and
pain. Jack's cock ached and he desperately wanted Elliott to pay it some attention, but try as
Jack might, Elliott completely avoided it.

"What's the matter, Jack?" Elliott asked, smirking.

"Dude, you're killing me. You gotta lend me a hand here, if you know what I mean. All tease
and no action makes Jack a crazy boy." He raised his eyebrows and gave Elliott his most
charming smile.

"Aw," Elliott chided, "what happened to the king of the all-nighters?" He picked at the cooled
wax on Jack's chest, pulling it off in long curls. "I think you can handle more. You're a tough
guy."

He set down the empty glass and took another new candle, blowing out the flame. He also
picked up a flat, one-inch wide paintbrush. Jack watched with breathless anticipation as Elliott
dipped it into the hot wax. Then Elliott reached out and painted a line of fire right down the
length of Jack's cock.

"Jesus fuck!" Jack gasped, thrashing on the bed. He drew his knees up and braced his feet on
the bed as pain shot through his groin, followed immediately by white-hot pleasure.

Elliott chuckled. "That got your attention."

He swept another hot stroke of wax along the side of Jack's cock, and the whole series of
sensations started again. Jack moaned and panted, arching his hips uncontrollably. "Oh, fuck,
please... oh, please..."

Elliott seemed utterly unmoved by Jack's plight and continued to leisurely coat Jack's cock
and balls with stripe after stripe of hot wax. "Please what?" he asked.

"Fuck, I don't know," Jack said, half laughing and half moaning. "Begging just seems like a
really good idea right now."

Elliott laughed. "You want to come?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Jack groaned. Just the words nearly had him there, and he stared
at Elliott with unashamed need, mouth open and chest heaving with each breath.

"That's too bad, because I'm having a hell of a good time. You're stunning to watch, and you
make the most amazing noises."

"Oh, shit, that's nothing," Jack said. "You want to hear some great noise, just make me come;
I'll sing you a fucking opera."

Elliott laughed and took a sip of his drink. "Don't think I'm not looking forward to that."

Instead of complying, however, Elliott took another candle and continued to torture Jack with
long ribbons of hot torment running the length of his body. Jack moaned and gritted his teeth,
working to endure both the pain and the pleasure.

"Oh, please, dude," Jack gasped. He felt as if he'd been on fire for hours. "I don't know how
much more of this I can take."

Elliott sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over Jack, smiling down on at him. "I think
you've earned it. You put on quite a show."

"Yes. Oh God, yes please." Jack rocked his hips eagerly, tempting Elliott to get on with it.

Elliott wrapped one of those large strong hands around Jack's cock, crumbling the wax that
had hardened there, and squeezed him firmly. Jack groaned with relief, even as his whole
body went hot and flushed. To his great frustration, though, Elliott began peeling chunks of
wax off, rather than giving him the hand job he so desperately wanted.

"Leave it," Jack pleaded. "We can clean me up later; just do me already."

Elliott shook his head. "Trust me on this, you'll enjoy it a lot more without hard wax scraping
you. It'll only take a minute."

It seemed more like an hour to Jack, and every touch sent shivers of need through his over-
sensitized body. Finally, Elliott took Jack’s cock in hand and started to stoke him. "Oh, thank
fucking God," Jack moaned, thrusting his hips.

Elliott jerked him off with long, purposeful strokes that didn't leave Jack wanting, but didn't
rush the job either. For several long minutes, Jack lay helpless, wallowing in desire. When
Elliott squeezed tighter and put the finish on it, Jack cried out with relief and pleasure,
fucking wantonly into Elliott's hand and gripping the bed posts with white knuckled
determination. Jack came hard, thick trails of spunk spilling over Elliott's fingers and dotting
the red wax on Jack's belly.

When Jack finally went limp on the bed, drained of nearly every ounce of energy and sense he
had, Elliott got onto the bed, kneeling over him and bracing a hand on either side of Jack's
head. "You can let go of the bedrails now," he said with amusement.

"No, I can't," Jack told him. "I'm too weak. You done did me in."

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Elliott took hold of Jack's wrist and helped him ease first one arm
down, then the other. "I've seen you party; I know what you're capable of. It's one of the
reasons I wanted you."

Jack smirked. "I gotta say, it's nice being wanted, then."

"Well, from what I've seen, you've been undervalued so far, and wasted a lot of your time. I'd
like to see both those things changed." Elliott worked on stripping the dried wax from Jack's
chest and stomach, sweeping away all the pieces that had broken and fallen off from Jack's
thrashing.

"You won't get any argument out of me," Jack said. "I've always felt I was destined for better
things."

Elliott chuckled and brushed off his hands. He straddled Jack's hips to offer up his own hard-
on. "I'll take that blowjob now, if the offer's still good."

"Absolutely," Jack said with an eager grin.

Jack took to the task with relish and used every trick he knew, plus a couple he made up on
the spot, inspired both by his recent climax and his extreme desire to land the job. Not only
did he want a life of ease and pleasure, but he liked Elliott and hoped that if he got the job,
there would be many more afternoons like this one.

Jack stroked his hands over Elliott's hips and around to caress his firm ass. Elliott moaned and
reached down to tangle his fingers in Jack's hair. "That little lady in Louisiana definitely
taught you well, Jack," he said. "I owe her some thanks."

Jack hummed in response, doubling his efforts. Elliott's cock was thick and heavy in his
mouth, and he loved the feel of it and the power behind it. He imagined what Elliott must look
like driving it deep into someone's ass. Jack wanted that, too.

It wasn't long before he had Elliott right up to the edge and thrusting into his mouth, uttering a
string of curses and moans. One final flick of Jack's tongue and Elliott came hard, filling
Jack's mouth almost faster than he could swallow. A single fat drop escaped and trickled
down the side of his chin.

Elliott lay down beside him, flushed and breathing heavy, but looking extremely satisfied. He
leaned forward and slowly licked the come from Jack's face. Jack shivered. They kissed, and
Elliott wrapped an arm around Jack's body to pull him close.

"You are something else, Jack," he said. "I like your style and I like your enthusiasm. And I
think I'm going to enjoy teaching you the tricks of the trade. That is, if you want the job..."

Jack snorted and grinned at Elliott. "You don't really think I'm gonna say no, do you?" Elliott
shrugged, and Jack rolled his eyes. "Fuck yes, I want the job! I'll learn any damn thing you
want to teach me. I'm your 'A' student from now on."

"That's what I wanted to hear," Elliott said, sounding pleased. "I was hoping you'd accept, and
I'm pretty used to getting what I want."

"Yeah, I'll bet you are." Jack stretched out on his back, musing over his new life. "So, how do
things work around here?"

Elliott got up to put on his robe, and poured them fresh drinks. "Well, I'll let you get cleaned
up again, and then I can take you on a tour of the estate, introduce you to some of the boys."
He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over Jack's stomach. "Unless you object, I'd like
you to move into the main house, where I can keep an eye on you while you settle in."

Jack grinned. "You can keep more than your eyes on me."

"Oh, I plan to," Elliott told him. "I like you, and I've got big plans for you. Do we have a
deal?"

"Yeah, sure, if you really checked me out, you know what kind of a dump I live in now. I
probably only need one box to gather up what I'd want to take out of there."

"Wonderful," Elliott said with a smile. "Let's get moving, then. It'll be dinner soon, and I can
show you off. I think you're going to make a great addition to the family."

Jack let Elliott lead in him into the bathroom and, while they showered, he planned out
exactly what he was going to tell his old boss when he called to quit his job.

Screw the cockroaches. Now he was going to live in style.

Deck the Sub

by Sean Michael

With the Christmas holidays upon them, Marcus declared a week of holidays.

It would be interesting to see how Jim functioned with a limited schedule and no working. Of
course, Marcus planned to fill his lover's time with all sorts of interesting things.

He had plans.

The first thing he'd done was turn off the alarm. They would wake when they woke. He
glanced over at the clock. Of course that meant they woke at the usual time because it was
that ingrained. He chuckled wryly and slid his hand along Jim's back, fingers teasing the top
of Jim's ass.

Jim murmured softly, lips sliding over his chest. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning." He reached for Jim's chin and tilted it, bringing their mouths together for a
long, soft kiss.

Jim cuddled in, warm and yielding, so happy to see him, to be with him. He reached down
again, hand automatically finding Jim's ass, squeezing. He did love Jim's ass. A soft laugh
pushed into his lips, that sweet butt pressing into his touch.

"I know what you want," he murmured, rubbing Jim's ass. His own fingers itched for what
was coming.

"Coffee?" Jim winked at him, that flash of humor delicious.

Marcus laughed, happy deep down inside. "Let me rephrase that -- I know what you need."
He kept rubbing Jim's ass.

"You always know." Jim licked his smile, those lovely eyes lit up for him and him alone. His
lover.

"I do." He caught Jim's tongue between his lips and began to suck on it, his hand lifting,
dropping back down with a smack.

His baby jerked, hips rocking into him and rubbing.

"Yeah, baby. Like that." He smacked Jim's ass again, another light tap, beginning with a
warm up.

Jim hummed: Marcus knew Jim trusted him, trusted this implicitly.

Marcus shifted the covers away so he would have more room as he increased the strength of
his blows. He increased his pace slowly, though, enjoying the almost gentle build-up. Soon,
he had Jim draped over his lap, spread wide, cock hard but not yet leaking against his skin.
There was no punishment here, nothing but a sweet, sensual delight.

It was the perfect way for them to start their mornings, but today Marcus took longer with it,
the build up moving slower. The heat in his hand and belly, got hotter and hotter the longer he
took.

"You're so beautiful like this, baby." Jim took Marcus' breath away.

"I ache for you." Jim groaned, ass deep pink.

"Yes. Me, too." Marcus' cock was hard, rubbing against Jim's belly.

He hit Jim a few more times, groaning as Jim's body pushed up into each smack. The pretty
ass was a sweet, warm rose, the color constant these days; it only changed tone as the time
between spankings passed.

"Do you want to come now, baby, or while you're sucking me?" It was Christmas, after all;
Jim could choose, to a point.

"You'll let me stroke off?" Jim's voice was breathless, curious, husky.

"No. If you come now, it's between my legs. If you come while you suck me, it's because you
get off on the taste of my come." That could be one of his gifts to Jim, though. Coffee and
stroking off one morning. His baby certainly deserved it.

Jim whimpered, humping faster, harder. "Master. Oh, fuck."

"Mmm... yes, baby. You can come now, when you need to." Marcus squeezed his legs
together, giving Jim more friction on the hot prick as Marcus' hand came down hard and fast,
peppering the beautiful ass.

"Love. Love you. Don't stop. Please, sir. Please..." Jim started thrashing, bucking wildly in his
lap.

He wasn't planning on stopping, not until Jim had gotten what he needed. "I won't stop, baby.
You haven't come yet."

He moved to the tops of Jim's thighs and tanned the skin there. Jim's moans became high,
keening cries, that prick almost burning Marcus' inner thighs.

"Come for me, baby. Show me how much you love this, how much you need it."

"Yes. Yes, master. Yes..." Jim whimpered, head tossing as heat sprayed over Marcus' thighs.

The scent was glorious, the fact that Jim obeyed Marcus without question even more so. Jim
slumped down over Marcus' thighs. Harsh breaths sobbed from Jim. Marcus stopped
spanking, hand sliding on the hot, rosy flesh.

"Master."

Marcus groaned, that word on Jim's lips always so good to hear. "Yes, baby. You did well, so
well. You may have your reward now." His cock throbbed at the thought of Jim's mouth
around it.

Jim moaned, his baby always so hungry for him, always eager and ready for him. The
muscled body shifted, sliding over his legs and onto the mattress. Marcus' cock bobbed and
throbbed, swollen and ready for the touch of Jim's lips and tongue.

Marcus slid his hand over Jim's head, the long curls catching on his fingers. The coppery
strands wrapped around him, much like those heated lips did, as they tugged at him to keep
him close.

"Jim... oh, baby." He wasn't sure what he was trying to say -- it didn't really matter.

Jim hummed, nodded around him, sucking harder. He lay back on the bed, spreading his legs
wider and pushing deeper into Jim's mouth. He felt each and every moan, each note of the low
hums Jim was giving him.

His eyes closed to slits. "Yes. More. Soon." Marcus could feel his balls drawing up. Jim was
so good at this. Careful fingers rolled his balls, tugging them gently.

"Jim!" His breath caught, and then he groaned.

The suction increased and the tugging came again, and again, and yet again. He cried out his
baby's name once more. His hips bucked as he came. Jim sucked him down, humming softly
before cleaning him with that sweet tongue.

Making a happy noise, he tugged Jim on up and gave his baby a good, hard kiss to taste
himself in Jim's mouth.

"Mmm." Jim was heavy-lidded, relaxed and smiling, cuddling into his arms.

"Enjoying your first day of the holidays, baby?"

"Mmmhmm. You?"

"Yes." So far, it had been the same as any other morning. Of course, today, they weren't going
to go to work after breakfast. "I have such plans for you."

"Do you?" Jim stretched, back popping.

"Oh, yes. I do. Something festive for every day." He rubbed Jim's back, and his fingers slid
along his baby's spine.

"I bought cider to drink. Xavier showed me how to make it after the party at the club." The
Hammer's Christmas parties were legendary, and Marcus loved the cider there.

"Mmm... and are there brownies?" He loved the brownies Jim bought. Everyone did.

"There are. Just for us, but not for breakfast." Jim chuckled, kissed his nose. "Pancakes or
waffles with our coffee?"

"Oh, I bought you some candy cane coffee. And I think pancakes." He tilted his head and
brought their lips together. If he neglected to mention that the candy cane coffee was
decaffeinated, well, that wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

Jim hummed happily into the kiss, tongue-fucking his lips.

"You have a choice, too. Candles, ribbons, or fir branches." They'd try one a day and then
maybe in combination on the other days.

Jim tilted his head; Marcus knew the sharp mind was working furiously. "Candles. You'll tie
my rings together with the ribbon. I know you."

Marcus laughed, delighted. "So you're saving that for another day. Candles it is." There were
so many possibilities with the candles.

Jim nodded, stomach rumbling against him.

"Hot wax and the perfect shape for... Well, we should have breakfast first. I want your full
concentration when I begin." He gave Jim's ass a squeeze.

"So mean." Jim smiled and stole another kiss.

Laughing, Marcus sat up again, rubbing Jim's ass this time and encouraging his baby to get
out of bed with him. "I bet you'll be singing a different tune when we've finished with the
candle."

***

With breakfast out of the way, Marcus led Jim back upstairs to the bathroom. He took his
time, indulging in long, wet kisses as they slowly climbed the stairs. When they were finally
there, and naked, Marcus reached out and stroked the short curls around Jim's cock. "I think
we should shave you." The wax play would work better on smooth, sensitive skin.

"You're obsessed with my pubes." Jim laughed and pushed into his touch, bright green eyes
dancing.

"Trust me, baby. You don't want them staying as they are for what I've got planned." And if it
also afforded him the opportunity to bare Jim as well, who was he to complain?

That gaze became more serious. "I always trust you, Master. Always."

Heat moved through Marcus, and his chest swelled. Jim made him so happy. "Come on, we'll
do it in the shower."

Jim nodded, moving without being asked to get the water ready, pulling out towels and
washcloths, a soft, tuneless humming filling the air. With Jim doing that, Marcus focused on
getting out the razor and making sure it had a new blade in it. He also put the shaving cream
on the lip of the tub along with a tube of body lotion to rub into the newly bared skin.

He watched the ink on Jim's back move and shift, the tigers and birds, flowers and heavy
jungle tattooed there growing, month by month. Soon, he was going to have to decide whether
to leave Jim's ass bare or have it inked, too.

It was not going to be an easy decision.

"In the shower, baby. It's time."

The rosy pink cheeks wiggled, showing his marks. Chuckling, he reached out and rubbed
Jim's magnificent ass.

"Mmm." Oh, the skin was warm, just a little swollen.

Marcus slid his fingers around to Jim's hips, holding on as he stepped forward and rubbed his
prick against all that heat.

"Master." They stepped into the water, the steam and heat welcoming them both.

"Mine." Marcus nosed along Jim's neck and licked at the water running over Jim's skin.
"Gonna make you smooth and then play all afternoon, baby. The things I have planned for
you."

"No... no working for us, hmm?" Jim's ass rubbed against him, up and down, over and over.

He managed to get a reply out, his hips meeting Jim's movements, working with them. "A
week off usually means no working, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Usually, time off means heavy submission, Marcus."

"We can do that on Boxing Day. Today it means exploring new things. Having fun doing so."
He let go of Jim's hips and encouraged him into the shower. He could fuck his baby later.

"Don't you mean drop-dead-after-Christmas-sales day?" Right. The day after Thanksgiving
had sent Jim into a total meltdown and had ended with them in the basement for hours,
working it out with a heavy flogger.

Marcus picked up the soap and cleaned Jim quickly. "I meant what I said, baby."

"I know. I know. I was just playing with you." Jim vibrated a little, nerves showing.

Maybe Marcus needed to rethink that fucking after thing and do it now. It would calm Jim
down, and then they could shave and go play. He turned Jim around to face the wall, rubbing
up against that red ass again.

"M... master?"

"I want you, baby. I want to feel you around my cock. We'll get to the rest after." He slid one
hand down to slick up his cock, the other one going to Jim's cock.

"Oh." That heavy cock had flagged, but it jerked in his hand, moving on his palm.

"I want you, baby. So much."

"Good." Jim's hair went dark with the water. The heavy curls pulled Jim's head back.

Marcus latched onto the long line of Jim's neck, lips drinking in water and the taste of Jim's
skin.

"Yours. Master." His hot and cold running sub was melted against him. Soft moans filled the
air.

"Oh, yes. Mine." He worked the skin, making a mark. His mark.

Marcus' slick cock was so hard; it pressed against Jim's ass. Marcus wanted in. He needed in.
Then Jim shifted, taking him in, drawing him into that perfect, tight heat.

"Oh, fuck. Baby." His teeth bit into Jim's neck, the sensation of Jim’s ass around him almost
too good.

"Master." Jim rippled around him, entire body jerking, driving back against him.

"Mine." He gripped Jim's cock hard and pushed forward with his hips so he was both fucking
and stroking Jim at the same time.

"Yours. Yours. I need. I... Master. Marcus."

He moved hard and fast. "I have you, Jim. And you can come when I tell you to."

"Uh-huh. Thank you." Jim's hands climbed up the tile, bracing them.

He kept moving, his hips snapping hard as he took Jim's ass. The heat off Jim's asscheeks
warmed his thighs. It wasn't long before Jim was grunting, squeezing his cock and working
him.

"Yes. Oh, baby. Fuck." Marcus was getting close and he wanted them to go over together.

He tightened his hand on Jim's cock and gave a soft, "Now."

Jim came, easy as pie, simple as that. For him.

Knowing that sent him over the edge as much as the way Jim's ass squeezed his cock and
milked the come right out of him. The water poured around them, beating down, hot and
strong.

"Mmm. Love you, baby."

"I love you."

They stood together for a moment, held close together, warm and wet and melted. Then it was
time to get down to business.

"Grab the shaving cream for me, baby."

Jim nodded, the can landing in his hand. He leaned Jim up against the tiled wall and sprayed
the shaving cream over Jim's nipples, across his breastbone and Jim's pubes.

Jim blinked down. "My pubes don't go that high."

"I want to play with your chest and nipples, too."

"Oh." The ink wasn't creeping over to Jim's chest, yet.

He chuckled, grabbing the razor. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." He leaned in, watching closely as he slid the razor down Jim's breastbone.

Jim stayed painfully still and watched him.

"I'm not going to cut you, baby."

"I know." Still, his words made Jim relax, his baby breathing again.

He shaved Jim's chest fairly quickly, and then moved more slowly, carefully around each
nipple. The rings in those pretty nipples bobbed as Jim's nipples went tight. Marcus couldn't
stop his moan; he didn't even try as his razor left nothing but smooth skin behind. His. Marcus
loved baring Jim to his eyes, pushing Jim's boundaries.

"Now around your cock." His movements became even more careful, taking away the short
curly hairs.

"You did this the first time."

"I did. This is for an entirely different reason."

Jim tilted his head. "It is?"

"Yes. I don't want to be pulling out hair with candle wax..."

"Wax. It won't... you know that burning is dangerous, yes?"

"I'm not going to burn you, Jim. I said wax -- not flame." As if he would do anything like burn
Jim. That wasn't the kind of pain they enjoyed together.

"Okay." Jim touched his scalp, petting gently. "I had to ask. Otherwise, I'd worry."

He nuzzled into the touch. He'd shaved last night, so his scalp was still smooth, Jim's hand so
warm against it. "I'm pretty sure you're going to like it." And if nothing else, Jim would like
the candle as dildo part.

"You know what I need." Jim moaned softly, smiling down at him.

"I do." He leaned in and licked around one freshly bared nipple before going back to shaving
Jim's pubes. This job took his whole attention -- he had no desire to cut or abrade this most
sensitive skin.

Jim spread, letting him at the soft ball sac, behind where that tiny ring waited. He carefully
shaved Jim's balls, not able to resist sliding his fingers back to play with the guiche. Jim
moaned, knees bending. He kissed Jim's belly and tugged the guiche again, adding a little
twist this time.

"Master." Jim's cock jerked, slapping his chin.

"Mmm. Someone is hard again." Which was perfect. They'd use one of the cockrings while
they played.

"How could I not be? You're touching me."

It was a good answer and he rewarded it with a sucking kiss to the tip of Jim's prick. The ring
tasted metallic on his tongue. He slid his tongue through it and tugged gently; he knew it
would make Jim crazy.

"Master. Sir. Marcus." The tug and thump of that pretty cock made Jim moan.

He swallowed, gave the ring one last twist and then stood. "Come on. Let's get ourselves dried
off and in the bedroom." His voice was little more than a growl.

"Yes. Yes, sir." Eager and lovely, Jim vibrated as he turned the water off.

Marcus stepped out and grabbed a big towel, wrapping Jim up in it and drying his baby off,
making it sensual and good. By the time they were dry, Jim's skin was rosy and pink. Marcus
took a kiss and pushed his tongue into Jim's mouth.

They moved into the bedroom, still kissing. He had the candles on the dresser, along with a
box of matches beside them.

He eased Jim onto the bed, spreading his lover wide. He touched both nipples with his tongue,
circled the areole, and then slid down along the breastbone before mouthing the newly bared
skin around Jim's prick.

"That's where the wax is going to drip, baby."

"Are you doing to bind me, Master?" Marcus could hear the 'please' in Jim's voice.

He smiled, nodded. "Of course I am, baby."

"Oh. Oh, thank you." He knew how Jim tried to please him, but this would let Jim fight, let
them just feel.

"I'll bind your prick first." He slid his hand around the flesh in question and jacked it slowly.

Jim smiled, eyes going heavy-lidded. "I love that."

"I know."

He went to the drawer where they kept the cockrings and found a plain silver band. It was
perfect, lovely but not so big it would impede any of the wax play. Jim shifted, ass rubbing on
the sheets, humming under his breath.

"You're beautiful, baby."

He grabbed some silk rope, ready to tie Jim down.

"I'm yours."

"You are."

He looped the rope around one wrist and raised it up, attaching it to the headboard.

"You forgot my cock."

"Did I?" He stroked it again, fingering the slit.

"Uh. Uh-huh."

Chuckling, Marcus slipped the silver ring over Jim's cock and pushed it right down to the
base. A long, drawn out sigh filled the air, Jim arching for him. It was sexy, the way Jim
needed, the way his baby wanted.

He played with the tip of Jim's prick a little longer, and then moved to finish tying Jim to the
bed. By the time Jim was spread and bound, they were both breathing together, in sync.

"Do you like candles, baby?" He brought two from the dresser to the bedside table. They were
fat and would quickly produce a fair amount of liquid wax. He lit them both.

"I don't really have an opinion on them. I'm scatterbrained. I might burn something down."

"Not if I'm the one holding the candles and you're all tied up." He gave Jim a wink and picked
up one of the candles, happy to see the wax had begun to melt and pool at the top already.

Jim was watching, vibrating, entire body tensing as he waited.

"One on the nipple..." He tilted the candle, the wax sliding to the edge, trembling there a
moment before spilling over and splashing across Jim's right nipple.

Jim gasped and tugged violently against the bonds.

"Hot, but not burning. And we have to take it slowly because we need to wait for more wax to
melt."

Jim panted a little, and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, sir."

"It'll leave the prettiest red marks on your skin when I peel it off, too." He tilted the candle
again, this time letting the wax fall on Jim's left nipple.

"I. I. It's hot. I can't... Fuck." Jim groaned, teeth biting the swollen lips. His baby hadn't said
'can't' in months.

Marcus put the candle aside. "What can you do, Jim?"

"Love you." The words were immediate, certain. "Trust you. Submit."

"There you go, baby." He leaned down to reward Jim with a kiss. Then he climbed onto the
bed and straddled his baby's hips, sitting so their balls pressed together.

"I'm sorry. I just. It was so big."

"Then tell me that, baby." He kissed Jim again and reached for the candle. He was careful; the
pool of wax had grown and he didn't want a single drop to spill accidentally onto Jim. Any
wax on his baby's skin would be deliberate. "There's more wax this time."

"Is that better or worse?"

"Both?"

Jim was freaked out, but clearly not disliking the sensations. Not at all.

"I love you, baby." Once he'd said the words, he tipped the candle and circled it, letting the
wax swirl on Jim's chest.

Jim arched like a wire had been attached to him, and his heels thrummed on the mattress.
Their pricks rubbed together, making Marcus moan as he watched the wax harden on Jim's
chest. It was a dark red.

"Please. It burns."

"I'm not burning you, baby." He leaned up to put the candle back on bedside table and then he
took the edge of the wax between his fingers and pulled it away. The flesh beneath was red,
and he knew, hot. He bent again and kissed Jim's skin, right in the middle of the design. Jim's
whimper was soft, just a bit desperate, mostly needy.

Marcus traced the red mark with his tongue, placed another kiss inside it, and then peeled the
wax from Jim's nipples. God, his baby was beautiful.

The rings tried to come with the wax, Jim shifting, eyes flying open as it tugged hard. Marcus
chuckled softly and twisted the wax and the rings to get them to separate.

"Marcus!" Jim's toes curled, a soft whimper sounding.

"Yeah, baby, I know." He mouthed the red marks left behind by the wax, working both Jim's
nipples as well as the newly shaved skin of his chest.

"I need. Help me. Help me, sir."

"You need to be filled, don't you, baby?" He was going to use a candle to plug Jim. He wasn't
ready to make love. Not yet.

"Yes. Yes, please. I need, so badly." His sweet, needy baby.

He reached for the lube and shifted off of Jim. Those legs spread immediately for him and he
started stretching Jim open. Jim rode his touch, bouncing up and down as best he could. Sweat
sheened the marked chest. So lovely.

Marcus moved quickly to three fingers and then covered a two-inch round candle in a
condom.

Jim's eyes were fastened to the candle -- the look shocked. "It'll look obscene."

"It will. I'll show you in the mirror." Marcus winked and lubed up the condom-covered
candle.

"I don't want to see, Master. I don't think I do."

"Then I think you should." He put his fingers back into Jim, three spreading his baby wide.

"Why?" Jim's hole clenched around his fingers.

"Because it's going to be beautiful as well as obscene, and you need to see yourself like that."

"That makes me uncomfortable. I don't like being seen, Marcus."

"But you are seen by me all the time." Marcus pushed his fingers in hard.

"I know, but I don't see me."

"Today, you will. Even if just briefly." He withdrew his fingers and kissed Jim's hole before
placing the base of the candle at Jim's entrance.

Jim's hole clenched, and his baby panted a little, staring at him. Then Jim took a deep, slow
breath.

"That's it, baby. So brave, so good." Jim blew his mind every single day.

"I'm yours. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby." He met Jim's eyes, smiling as he gently pushed the candle in.

The candle was good-sized, big enough that Jim could feel it. He glanced down and groaned
at the sight of the dark green candle disappearing into Jim's body. Jim blushed, but took more
and more, stretching for him. He got the candle several inches in when he stopped, turned it
around and around.

"Master. Master. Master."

"Yeah, baby. I know what you like, what you need."

Jim nodded, moaned. "I don't... I need more. Please."

"I can give you more." He pushed the candle deeper.

That pretty hole stretched, spreading for him, submitting to him. He moved the candle in and
out. He fucked Jim with it. It was obscene. It was also beautiful, amazing.

Jim's lips were open, eyes closed, focus on that stretched ass. Marcus pushed the candle deep,
seating it with enough hanging out that he'd be able to take it out without any trouble when it
was time. Jim panted softly, the look on his baby's face a study in pleasure.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jim's mouth and then nosed his way over to Jim's ear.
"Beautiful."

"Love. Please."

"Yes, baby?" Where had he left that hand mirror?

"I feel you."

"Me? It's the candle you feel, baby." He spied the mirror on the dresser and he went to get it.

He could almost feel Jim's gaze like a touch. "No. I feel you."

He looked back at Jim as he grabbed the mirror and returned. "Me?"

"You. On my side, where you touch me."

He kissed Jim again and stroked his fingers over the beautiful skin. "Touching you is one of
the best things in life."

Jim's smile warmed him, all through.

"Now, I want you to look at yourself." He held the mirror at the right angle for Jim to be able
to look down and see the candle sticking out from his ass.

"I... Please, Marcus. I..." Jim's eyes were fastened on his face.

"Look at yourself, Jim. You're beautiful, obscene, perfect. Just one glance and then we'll
continue."

"Yes, Master." Jim took a deep breath, this simple request so difficult for his baby. Jim
looked, though, blushing almost purple.

"That's good, baby. So good. I'm so proud of you." He reached out, his fingers on the candle
in the mirror now, and pulled the candle partway out before pushing it in again.

"Master." Jim rippled, lips open, eyes on the mirror.

"You're beautiful. Amazing." He thrust a few more times to let Jim both see and feel.

"Yours. Please. I need."

"Yes. We'll do the wax around your cock now. Make your skin glow."

"Around. Okay. Okay." Jim panted, wrists twisting.

"Baby. You know I'm not going to do anything like burn your cock. The wax will be cool
enough before it hits your skin."

"No. I know. I just... had to say it out loud."

He gently stroked Jim's prick, admiring the way the silver ring stood out, the way the bare
flesh begged for a touch. A single drop of clear liquid formed and slipped down the shaft of
Jim's cock. Groaning, Marcus bent and licked it away.

"Master." He watched Jim arch, try to reach him.

"I'm going to start." Marcus picked up the candle which now had a fairly large pool of melted
wax in it.

He held the wax up high, giving it a chance to cool a little before it landed. He drew a line
around Jim's cock with the wax and watched it dry on the bared skin. Every time the wax
splashed onto that heavy prick, Jim grunted.

He splashed more again, and then began to shape it around Jim's cock. "We'll have a
souvenir."

"P...perv."

He grinned, hand still molding the wax. "I am."

Jim moaned and chuckled a little in that throaty, husky way he had.

Marcus finally got the wax how he wanted it and then carefully pulled it off. There was a
perfect mold of his baby's prick.

Jim stared. "That's awful."

"No, I like it. I think I'll take it to Hagar. He's that artist we’ve seen at the club. He can turn it
into a plaster statue."

"Hagar. Oh, wow."

Marcus carefully placed the wax penis on the dresser and then came back to peel the rest of
the hardened wax from the bare skin. Jim stared at him, watched every move he made.

"I'm taking the rest of the wax off now." He peeled the wax from Jim's skin, leaning in to lick
at the bare, red flesh. He could smell the way the wax warmed Jim's skin, made the man need.

Marcus rubbed his cheek against Jim's cock, the silver ring around the base hot, the gold ring
at the tip even hotter. Need flared in him, sudden and sure. With a cry he settled between
Jim's spread legs and tugged at the candle.

"Oh. Oh, yes. Please." Jim moved eagerly, body helping to get the candle out.

Marcus tossed it onto the floor and put Jim's legs over his shoulders. Rolling the sweet ass up,
he rubbed his cockhead against Jim's hole. Hot and ready, Jim seemed to draw his cock right
in. His baby’s body wrapped right around his prick.

"Baby. Shit." Groaning, he started to thrust good and hard right away. Bracing himself against
the headboard, Jim added his strength to the thrusts. "Yeah. That's it, baby. So good." He
stopped talking after that, the pleasure cutting everything else out.

This part was easy, natural as breathing. Jim loved him, rode his cock like no one else. He
took Jim's prick in his hand, letting his thrusts slide it along his palm. The look on his baby's
face was pure fucking bliss.

He knew when he ordered Jim to come, his baby would, ring or no ring, so he concentrated on
getting there himself and his hand dragged Jim along for the ride.

"Okay, baby. Soon."

"Uh-huh. Help me. Please." Jim's ass squeezed around him like a fist.

Nodding, Marcus changed his angle so he was hitting Jim's gland with every thrust. He
tweaked a nipple ring before doing the same to the Prince Albert, tugging hard on the penis
piercing. "Now, baby. Come now."

Heat spread over his fingers with only a second's hesitation. Jim's ass squeezed Marcus with
each pulse of come, his own orgasm drawn from him. Marcus shouted out Jim's name.

Slumping down, he rested against Jim, both of them breathing hard. He worked the ring off
Jim's softening cock and took some time to stroke over the hot, smooth flesh.

"Mmm. Master. Love." Jim hummed, the sound fucking sweet.

"Yeah. I love you, too." He kissed Jim soundly. "How are you enjoying the holidays so far?"

"I never thought Christmas could be like this."

"You mean kinky?"

"I mean honest and happy."

"Oh, baby." He kissed Jim again, as thoroughly as possible. "It's how it should be."

Jim nodded, licking his lips. "It is. For both of us."

"Yes. And next year, you won't be surprised by it -- you'll be expecting it." That's what
Marcus wanted for his baby, for Jim to expect the good things as a matter of course, to know
he deserved them.

"Mmm." Jim nodded, eyes getting heavy.

Marcus curled up around Jim and tugged the covers over them. It was a very promising
beginning.

"Happy Holidays, baby."

Contributors’ Bios

Sean Michael

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the
moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his
immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island
peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp
novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and
perusing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along
with the soundtrack to "Chicago." Check out Sean’s webpage at
http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Elle Parker

Elle Parker is a lover of smut in many forms. Although she writes a few forms of erotica, her
first love and primary focus is M/M Erotic Romance. She works hard to create characters you
can't help but fall in love with. Most of the time, Elle can be found in her home in the north
woods of Wisconsin, working on her latest novel, reading or brewing beer. Find out more
about Elle's work at http://elleparkerbooks.blogspot.com/

Alexa Snow

Alexa Snow is an emotional person who appreciates a sense of practicality in others but still
can't convince herself not to believe in love at first sight. She's prone to crying at inconvenient
times, rinking too much coffee, and staying up too late playing with words (either reading or
writing.) She lives in a tiny old house in New England with her husband, their young son, and
two cats who seem to think they're the ones in charge.

Toy Box: Candles

Edited by M. Rode

Deck the Sub © 2008 by Sean Michael

Waxing Jack © 2008 by Elle Parker

Shine Out Brightly © 2008 by Alexa Snow

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock,
TX 78680.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60370-559-2

ISBN-10: 1-60370-559-7

Torquere Press, Inc.: Toy Chest electronic edition / December 2008

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX
78680