The Mark and Dan, Detectives Series - THREE
DECEPTION – PALM SPRINGS is the first in a new series taking Mark Farrell and his partner, Dan Fortunato from their dangerous positions as homicide detectives in the LAPD to a new life together as private investigators in the Palm Springs area of Southern California.
Comfortable in their professional roles, which have Mark as the lead detective/investigator and Dan is the junior, they continue extreme to explore the reverse in private, where Dan is the dominant Leather Master and Mark is the submissive ‘boy’ in their BDSM lifestyle. It may confuse their friends, but not the two men themselves.
With their very first case, as Palm Springs private eyes, they discover that deception takes many forms, especially when man sex is involved. Mark is hired to locate a US Marine who comes back into his gay father's life after twenty-two years of enforced absence, before disappearing again. Just who is the real Donald Bates and what's his game? From gay Palm Springs mansions to Kansas City’s leather bars Mark uncovers some surprising, some shocking and some wonderful answers. Meanwhile Dan’s been following a well-known Palm Springs architect, a husband who’s alleged to be unfaithful – but is it with a woman or a man?
Deception can lead you into sexual, wonderful, strange and dangerous places
- 4 To Be Read lists
Publisher: MLR Press
Pairings: MM, MMF, MMM
Heat Level: 5
Romantic Content: 3
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay, Questioning
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 46-65
Tropes: Age Difference, Alpha Character, Bad Breakup, Coming of Age, Coming Home, Coming Out / Closeted, Families/Raising Kids, Find Love and Come Out, First Time, Forbidden Love, Healing Power of Sex, Hurt / Comfort, In Uniform, Lone Wolf, Love Triangle, Married Life, May/December, Menage, Mind Games, Opposites Attract, Rescue, Reunited and it Feels So Good, Second Chances, Slow Burning Love, Unrequited Love
Word Count: 88,500
Setting: Palm Springs, CA; San Francisco; Kansas - Baxter Springs, Kansas CIty
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
Dan made a beeline for a Saint Andrew’s cross. “Haven’t played with one of these in years—not since my training days with Captain James—and that’s a shitload of years ago. Okay, boy, get your shirt off and spread yourself over the cross.”
I had been looking around at the other equipment. I recognized two fuck benches and some kind of wooden horse. All seemed already in use with bottoms tied down on each of them and Doms either flogging or fucking. There was a regular swimming pool with guys jumping in and out, and a kids’ wading pool with a naked sub lying in some kind of liquid. Overall there looked to be about twenty men busy with some kind of sexual activity, from nipple torture to full-out fucking, while the music drowned out any screams or shouts in the night air.
“Hey, boy, stop staring—like you’ve never seen a little orgy before." Well, I hadn’t. "Get into position.”READ MORE
I shrugged off my shirt and then my harness, dropped them on top of the bag of toys I’d been toting. Then I walked gingerly up to the cross and spread my arms and legs. It felt cool against my chest and I relaxed slightly. Dan had been checking on the workmanship and pronounced it of good quality. I realized all this was a part of his past I didn’t know much about.
“How come you know about such things, Master?”
“When I was about nineteen years old, a high school senior back in Philadelphia, I was undergoing training from a US Marine Captain, James Arthur—a tough young son of a bitch who had his own cross, amongst other things. He’s the man who realized I was more Top than bottom, and taught me the first stages of being a responsible Master. He was very good for me, and I…lost him.”
Dan’s voice trailed away unnaturally; his body slumped from the strict military pose he’d assumed. I broke position to go over and take hold of his arms. “Are you all right, Master? Can I help you?”
He wiped a hand across his eyes, but he shrugged me off brusquely. “Get back to your post, boy. We’re here to play and we’re fucking well going to play—and hard.” And he swung the heavy flogger he’d picked up from the toy bag. But it went nowhere near me, and he didn’t repeat the gesture. Whoever Captain James Arthur had been and whatever part of Dan’s past he represented, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know at that moment.
“Master, your boy is ready.” I’d hurried back and was holding onto the upper metal rings of the cross with my raised arms and my ass exposed and my dick hanging over the cross in back. “Master, I’m here.”
Dan strode over to me, his eyes dulled, his look intense. He started wrapping rope tightly around my extended left arm; then he moved to the right side, this time continuing round my chest and waist and down my right leg before kicking my booted foot sideways and anchoring it to the last rung. He finished tying my left leg and I tugged experimentally, but I was tight to the wood of the cross. Dan was muttering to himself as he came around my front. He slid a thick blindfold over my eyes, pulled hard on my nipples, and then batted my rising prick for his own amusement and to further excite me.
“Master, I’m…” I got no further; three fingers of one gloved hand reached into my mouth to silence me.
“Shut the fuck up. Just hold on to that cross tight.” He pulled out the fingers, slapped my head hard a couple of times so that my ears rang, and moved away.
“Plug you now, ass-head.” Even Dan’s voice seemed muffled. “No lube for you tonight, damn you, just some of my spit. In it goes. Come on, dick- head, open up and let this shiny black fireplug in that shitty hole of yours.” His voice was hoarse, but his hands were insistent and he shoved hard until what felt like some real fire hydrant slid into me and he forced it home. I tried to cooperate, to use my ass muscles as he trained me, but this seemed bigger than any plug I’d endured before and the absence of lube made it rougher.
Well, I thought, he said he wanted to play hard tonight, and my cock seems to think it’s great. Just brace up, Mark, and stop complaining.
It was unlike Dan to be so uncommunicative with me; he didn’t seem to know the man who loved him was right there. I could hear him rummaging through our toy bag and the swish of the flogger moving through the air.
Then he started on me, no warm-up, no friendly hand on my body to steady me, but hard blows along my shoulders as he moved from left to right, laid on as fiercely as he could. I gasped for breath, but he only stopped to exchange weapons, to pick up his rawhide flogger and to lay fresh lines down my torso. He got into a rhythm and I could feel the strokes lacing my back. There were sounds coming from him, but no more coherent words.
My skin felt on fire, overheating, and I think it was beginning to crack and blood started trickling from his welts. I guess he must’ve noticed that, because he grunted, switched to my ass and began to mark it too with cross-blows along my cheeks. I began to moan loudly; Dan was really in full Master mode, and then some. I told myself I could take it, take this new dark form of the rapture. He was also excited by action around us; I could hear a murmur of voices; guys who must have drifted over to watch.
Then he started to mumble again. “Now, mother-fucker, I’ll show you what I’ve learned. You know me well enough. I don’t quit until I finish the job. I’m going to crop that white ass of yours, and mark it properly, before I give you a real fuck as I promised.”
I’d always disliked the riding crop and the results it left on me. Dan was being particularly harsh that evening, and I started to protest, shouting loudly and even screaming for him to stop. I should have been embarrassed by my lack of control, but the pain was thudding right through me, forcing my torso into the wood, while I could feel my treacherous penis standing straight out in front of me. I was fighting, twisting uselessly in the ropes, trying to move my ass out of his way.
“Okay, you’re trying to tempt me? You want me to use you, shit head? You want me to fuck that fiery red ass of yours? You’ve got it, boss man. I’m going to pull out this plug and nail you to the cross with my fuck-stick. Nail you as hard as I know how with my dick. No protection, no lube, just some spit on my pole, and whatever juices you have in your hole. Fuck you, you bastard, fuck you.”
I heard him almost sobbing and spitting onto his hands, cock and its heavy PA. He’d pulled out the fireplug quickly. I felt my hole quivering with need, and then he was in me, in me as hard as he could go. I tried to respond, opening up for him, as his PA hit my prostate, wriggling my butt in appreciation, but he seemed to have gone far away.
By now, the onlookers had increased; the whispering was louder, with the majority urging Dan to fuck me harder.
He didn’t seem to need encouragement. He slammed his sweaty body into my sore back. His hands moved over me, grasping my nipples to pull himself into me, massaging my shaft so that I was muttering and moaning alongside him. My lust had broken free and I was humping him back as he loudly tried to sink himself ever further into my bowels. It was as if a devil was driving both of us to higher pinnacles of pleasure and pain. It felt harsher and more demanding than ever before. Dan was all fire and force, and yet somehow he was carrying me with him. We were unaware of onlookers, hearing only our own moans. He wanted to take me, to fuck me to the heights, but I wanted him in return.
We both could only make animal-like grunts. He was banging me hard into the cross. I was putty in his hands, yelling loudly as he fucked me. Finally he shouted. “Fuck you, Sir, I’m coming in you at last.” I felt his cream flowing into me, and, in grateful acknowledgment, my own penis shot two long streams of jism onto the ground in front of me.
I heard a round of applause, some shouting and then gradually voices started to fade away. Dan’s body was covering mine, his weapon still tight in my hole. He spurted one more time and then grunted. Slowly his prick shrank down and out, and he slid down me, collapsing on the ground and clutching my left leg.
What seemed like an eternity passed. I just hung there, sweating, exhausted, bound tightly, and waited. Finally, “Oh fuck, Mark, what’s happened? Mother of God, look at your back. How did that blood and bruising get there?” Pause. “Don’t tell me I did that to you? God, how could I have inflicted so much pain and suffering? Look at the cum and muck oozing from your hole. Did I do that too?”
I nodded. By turning my head sideways, and nudging up the blindfold, I could see his face and part of his body slumped at the foot of the cross. He looked terribly distressed and disturbed.
He rose slowly to his feet, holding onto my sweaty, beaten torso to do so. “Let me get you down from there. No, I’d better get some ointment on the places where I’ve cut you. Oh, fuck, what was I thinking about? You’re the man I love, not some nameless nobody. Even then, Captain James drummed into me about a Top’s responsibility…”
He stopped. A wave of crimson crossed his face as some memory moment returned. “Mother of God, did I think it was him on the cross? Was I punishing him for leaving me all those years ago, without a word? No, no, shit, that’s madness. I’ll get some ointment from someone. Be right back.”
I wasn’t going anywhere, trussed up to a cross of wood, a blindfold now up on my forehead so I could see. I began to feel cold, started shivering. It was probably a reaction to the highs of the last half hour. It was possibly a reaction to the realization that maybe even Dan could get out of control—Dan the Master I depended on in our sex play; Dan the young detective who sometimes leapt into danger without thinking.
He was back in a few minutes with Jack and another guy to help. While he crooned words of sympathy and spread some vile smelling ointment on my shoulders and butt, the other two men unlaced me rapidly from the cross. I clung to the upper rungs, afraid to let go until I felt my booted feet come loose. Then Dan put his arms around me and I sank backwards onto his bare chest.
Holding me tightly, Dan was thanking the two helpers winding up the ropes, placing them and the floggers that were scattered around into our toy bag. Somehow he got my loose T-shirt and jeans back onto me, although I kept flinching as material rubbed against the whipped areas.
My Master was almost weeping as he cuddled and huddled against me. “Christ on a crutch, what have I done? Don’t remember hitting so hard. Must’ve been me. Captain James. Why did you go away? My complete bad. Oh shit—my boy, my lover, I didn’t mean it.”
Back at the casita, he washed me very gently in tepid water inside the shower, then applied the stronger unguent that Manning had given me months before. We just lay on the bed, too exhausted, too wired, too wounded to really sleep. But he kept his arm around my waist, seeking my forgiveness.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Dan. Yes, it was brutal and bloody. But most of the time I thought you were just testing me—testing my endurance at the hands of my Master. So I endured and enjoyed the pain as well as the pleasure. That’s what you’re teaching me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mark, but not like that. I went somewhere dark, got lost in a memory of frustration and despair, and took it out on you. I’m scarcely worthy of being called a Master. I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I need to always love you. That’s my responsibility and duty.”
“Try to rest, Dan, it will seem better tomorrow, I’m sure.”COLLAPSE