Changing Lanes

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Starsky wants to try something new, will Hutch let him?

 

Male on male BDSM/sex. Do not read any further if adult content offends.

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Hutch sat in bed, his back propped up against crisp white pillows, listening to the calming sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He pictured Starsky’s dark body, muscles flexing as he showered. Hutch sighed contentedly, and thought about how his life had changed in the space of two weeks.

Friday, October 2nd, was imprinted on his memory. He had renamed it “Starsky’s Day”.

The day had started out the same as any other. But ended so differently – he could still remember every detail of that fateful afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starsky is so quiet today. Hutch glanced at his partner across the desk from him. He was tired, but Starsky was distant. They’d spent the day shaking down numbers runners, trying to get a lead to the big man himself. “Hey, Starsk. You up for a beer at Huggy’s, before we head home?”

Starsky shook his head. “No, I’d rather grab a beer at your place and watch the ball game.”

Hutch jumped up, grabbing a file from his desk and jamming it into the open drawer of a nearby filing cabinet. Slamming the drawer shut, he walked behind Starsky and patted his shoulder. “Come on, partner. My place it is.”

Starsky followed him quietly out of the squadroom. He didn’t even speak as he slid into the driver’s seat of the Torino and leaned over to open the passenger door for Hutch.

The drive to Venice Place was excruciatingly slow, the traffic was a nightmare. And Starsky’s silence blanketed the car like the smog that covered the city, thick, suffocating and unbearable. Hutch’s attempts at conversation were met with grunts. Starsky never once took his eyes off the road in front of him.

Parking behind Hutch’s car, Starsky leapt out, and was already inside the apartment by the time Hutch caught up with him.

“I’ll get the beers. Turn on the TV, Starsk.” Throwing his jacket on the chair, Hutch walked to the fridge and grabbed two bottles.

He turned to find Starsky pacing the living room.

“Sit down, Starsky. What’s gotten into you?” Starsky’s restlessness was starting to bug Hutch. He walked to the coffee table and put down the beers.

“We need to talk, Hutch,” Starsky said, running his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth, wearing a hole in Hutch’s rug.

“What about? The case? You could have…” Hutch picked up a bottle and popped off the cap.

“I love you, Hutch,” Starsky blurted out.

Hutch laughed. “I love you, too, buddy.”

“No. I mean, I REALLY love you, Hutch.”

The serious look on Starsky’s face stopped Hutch mid-laugh. Stunned by Starsky’s revelation, Hutch dropped heavily onto the couch. Did I hear Starsky right?

Starsky walked across the room and sat in the chair next to the couch. “Say something, Hutch,” he pleaded.

Hutch was speechless. What do I say?

Starsky jumped up. “Sorry, ignore me. Don’t know why I said that.”

Starsky’s hurt tone sent a stabbing pain through Hutch’s heart. Realization hit him like a bolt of lightening. “I love you, too, Starsk.”

“Yeah, you told me that already,” Starsky snapped. “See you tomorrow.” He rushed to the door.

Without consciously making a decision, Hutch ran after Starsky and grabbed his right wrist. In one quick movement, he spun Starsky around and kissed him, hard and deep.

Starsky pulled away, surprised. “You feel the same way?”

Suddenly shy, Hutch hitched a breath, wondering if his impulsive move was too much, too soon. He felt a blush warm his cheeks. “Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch was dragged out of his reverie by a cough. He looked up and saw Starsky standing in the bedroom doorway.

Starsky grinned, “Earth to Hutch, come in, Hutch. Where were you, buddy?”

“Just thinking.” Hutch smiled at the vision in front of him.

“‘Bout me?” asked Starsky, cockily.

“Of course, who else?” He licked his lips. Starsky looked so sexy, standing there. His hair was wet, and he was wearing the black silk boxers that Hutch had picked out for him yesterday. Hutch swallowed. How did I get so lucky? “You look good enough to eat, Starsk. Come here.” He held out his arms, expecting Starsky to fall into his embrace.

Starsky didn’t move. “Hutch, you trust me, don’t you?”

“You know I do. What an odd question to ask at this time in the morning.”

“Say the words, Hutch,” Starsky urged.

“I trust you, Starsky. Now, what’s wrong? You are starting to scare me.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Starsky pouted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He made no attempt to enter the room, he just stood in the doorway staring at Hutch.

“What’s is this about?” Hutch asked.

“I just wanted to try something. But it’s too soon. I should have waited.” Starsky turned his back on Hutch, focusing on a painting on the bedroom wall.

“Try what, Starsk? Tell me. How long have we known each other?” Hutch was starting to get frustrated. It always meant trouble when Starsky started acting weird.

Starsky kept his back to Hutch. “I went to Uncle Elmo’s store the other day.”

“God, is he still alive?” Hutch laughed, remembering the adult toy store.

“Yeah. In the same shop, selling the same stuff.”

Hutch sat upright. “You bought some adult toys?” he asked incredulously. “What did you buy?”

“Stuff. I’ve…I’ve been having these thoughts,” mumbled Starsky. He leaned back against the door frame with his arms crossed protectively over his chest as if he wasn’t comfortable admitting his fantasies. He didn’t move when Hutch shuffled further down the bed, dragging the covers with him.

“Thoughts, what thoughts?” Hutch was intrigued, and worried. Ever since Starsky had told Hutch he loved him, Hutch had taken the lead in their relationship.

“About bondage, I want to restrain you,” Starsky said quietly. “I went a little crazy and got some stuff just for you, Hutch. And a book, so I know what to do.”

Hutch was shocked. That was twice in two weeks that Starsky had rocked his world. “Restrain me!”

“Forget it. I’m being silly.” Starsky walked out of the bedroom, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Hutch peered after him, still astonished, and listened to him clattering around in the kitchen. Why did Starsky always drop a bombshell and then run away? “Starsky, come in here. Let’s talk about it,” Hutch cajoled.

But what would he say? What on earth put an idea like that into Starsky’s head? Had Starsky secretly been into bondage the whole time Hutch had known him? The only times Hutch had been restrained were by thugs, and being that vulnerable scared the crap out of him. His gut clenched every time he thought about the different ways he had been tied up, the torture, the pain, and why it had happened. In their line of work, there was pure evil in some of the deviants they fought against. The bigger the criminal, the more chance of retribution, kidnapping, death.

Hutch shook his head. None of the things that scared him were relevant now. Starsky wasn’t doing it for revenge, or to hurt him. It was for love, Starsky’s kind of love. All encompassing, warm, and unpredictable.

Starsky certainly kept Hutch on his toes. There was no chance of their relationship growing stale, Starsky made sure of that. Hutch might appear to be the dominant one, but he knew that was because his partner wanted it that way. When Starsky needed control, he took it. At those times, Hutch was always happy to follow. Maybe he should do that now. Stop analyzing and be like Starsky, jump in with both feet and have fun.

Starsky popped his head around the door, his face pale. He looked more like he was facing the executioner, not his lover. “Hi,” he said, managing a weak grin. “Coffee?” He held up two mugs.

Hutch couldn’t believe what he was about to agree to. “Okay. Tell me more. What do I have to do?” He didn’t know if this was a good idea, but the way Starsky’s face lit up removed any doubts Hutch had. To get that kind of response, Hutch would do anything Starsky wanted.

“Are you sure, Hutch? You don’t have to.” Starsky looked like a little puppy dog who’d just been picked out of the shop window.

“I’m sure.” Hutch loved Starsky so much. He settled back against the pillows.

Starsky looked a little apprehensive. He put the mugs on the bedside table, then sat on the bed, his hands clasped together, resting on his lap.

“You okay, Starsk?” Hutch asked gently. Now he felt like the one pushing Starsky to do something out of the ordinary. Touching Starsky’s arm, he said, “come here, Starsk.”

Starsky moved backwards until he was sitting on the bed next to Hutch.

Hutch enveloped Starsky in his arms, and dotted his shoulders with small, gentle kisses. Very slowly, he shifted from the shoulders to the neck, finally reaching Starsky’s ear. Nibbling the earlobe, he said softly, “Talk to me, Starsk. I need to know what you’re thinking. Tell me what you want to do to me. I love you.”

Starsky looked Hutch in the eyes. “Have you ever done bondage, Hutch?”

“Not intentionally,” answered Hutch. The images he had tried to dispel earlier came rushing back into his mind’s eye. It wasn’t just the memories of his own ordeals, but Starsky’s, too. The Simon Marcus case still woke Hutch up some nights. He had nightmares of what might have happened to Starsky if…

Starsky swallowed, “I know what you’re thinking, Hutch. It bothered me, too. I was worried that I was as bad as they were, for wanting to tie you up.” Starsky wriggled so that his head rested on Hutch’s chest. “Then I read the book that Uncle Elmo recommended, and bondage isn’t evil, or perverted, or wanting to hurt someone just because you can, or to get what you want. It’s about love, trust, faith, and intimacy.” He kissed Hutch full on the mouth. “The stuff I’ve bought you is special, it won’t feel the same as the other times.” Starsky grabbed his right wrist and squeezed it hard for a few seconds. “I want to do this properly, full bondage. I want you to wear a slave collar for me. But if it will freak you out too much, we can forget it.”

Hutch was shocked at Starsky’s thinking. Full bondage, slave collar. God, he should back up, say no before they went any further. He became aware of Starsky’s tight grip around his wrist and he found himself saying, “I want what you want, Starsk.”

Sliding off the bed, Starsky walked over to the chair in the corner, where he’d dropped his clothes the night before. He pulled on black leather pants and a black silk shirt.

“What you getting dressed for, Starsk?” asked Hutch. He leaned forward on the bed and the pillows fell down behind him.

Starsky’s expression hardened into a stern mask. “You don’t ask questions, you do what I tell you,” he barked, placing both hands on his hips.

Hutch bit back his giggles. “Yes, sir.” Okay, guess we’ve started.

“First, we establish some ground rules,” Starsky continued as if Hutch hadn’t laughed. “I am in complete control. You have no say in what happens to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Hutch replied. He wasn’t so sure anymore. Starsky looked so different. No longer the sweet lover that Hutch was used to seeing in their bedroom.

“You can stop me at any time by saying ‘Buffalo’,” Starsky informed him. “Now, I want you naked.”

Hutch threw back the blankets, and got out of bed. “Good thing I didn’t bother to get dressed after my shower.” He was on an emotional rollercoaster. One minute he wanted to please Starsky, and join in the fun. The next, he was terrified of what they were going to do.

“Perfect,” Starsky smiled. He reached under the bed and pulled out his Nike sports bag. Rummaging inside, he extracted a large brown paper bag.

Hutch watched curiously. He’d never been into Uncle Elmo’s store, so he couldn’t imagine the contents of the bag, except for the slave collar that Starsky had mentioned. He guessed that there would be some sort of restraints, and who knows what else.

Starsky produced four red leather cuffs. He snagged Hutch’s right hand and fastened a cuff around the wrist, and did the same with the left wrist. “I love the smell of you in leather, Hutch – sometimes I get off just seeing you in your holster.”

That was news to Hutch. He realized that Starsky did touch him more when he wore his leather jackets, and remembered how tactile Starsky was when they were working. It had never occurred to him that Starsky might have a leather fetish. He examined the cuffs on his wrists. Starsky was right, they were nothing like handcuffs, or rope. They were sensual, interesting. He would have a closer look later.

Starsky bent down, and his hair tickled Hutch’s cock as he leaned in to attach a cuff to each of Hutch’s ankles.

Hutch wriggled, desperately trying to keep his emotions under control. Starsky was so totally absorbed in the whole role playing thing that Hutch didn’t want to make him feel silly by laughing. This isn’t so bad.

Starsky slapped the back of Hutch’s right thigh. “Stay still.”

Hutch stopped moving. Ow, that stung. He could feel the strong leather, tight but comfortable, on his skin. He noted the silver ring in each cuff.

Starsky stood, openly admiring Hutch standing naked in front of him, the red of the cuffs vibrant against his skin. “Kneel down.”

Hutch obeyed. He wanted to chuckle, but Starsky’s face was so somber, he didn’t dare. If Starsky was taking this seriously, then he should, too. He could see that Starsky had gone to a lot of effort to get this far.

Starsky produced a thick white collar.

Hutch stared at it horrified, but the irony wasn’t lost on him. He smirked, trying to push away the dread that was rising inside of him. “Starsky, who do you love most, me or your car?”

Starsky looked sheepish. “Was the only color Elmo had left. And, you know I love you more!”

Hutch shuffled backward on his knees as Starsky stepped toward him. “Are you all right, Hutch?”

Hutch looked up at him. “Not sure about the collar. I was expecting something smaller, like a dog’s.”

Starsky grimaced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. It’s too much, isn’t it? You don’t have to wear it.” he stared at the collar, as if seeing it for the first time. “The book said it made the wearer feel more subservient, made the experience more enjoyable, erotic. That it was sign of the slave’s devotion. God, I’m so stupid.”

Hutch hated seeing Starsky looking so crestfallen. “You are not stupid, don’t say that. You wanted to do this properly, and I agreed. I’m the one being silly. Put it on, please.” Hutch forced himself to stay still as Starsky edged the collar toward his neck.

Starsky’s stern expression returned. “When I put this collar on, you will belong to me, body and soul. I will be your Master,” he said, putting the collar slowly around Hutch’s neck. He bent over, kissing Hutch on the forehead, the tip of his nose and finally, his lips. Moving Hutch’s hair out of the way, Starsky carefully fastened the buckle at the back of the collar. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Starsky, always.” Hutch experienced a shift in his demeanor, something he hadn’t expected. The collar was rigid, and he was very aware of it’s presence around his neck. He did feel truly owned by Starsky. This collar symbolized Starsky’s power over Hutch. A sudden rush of love for his partner made Hutch breathless and dizzy.

“Are you okay, Hutch? Is the collar too tight?” Starsky asked, full of concern.

“No. No, it’s fine, Starsk,” Hutch whispered.

Starsky’s persona switched back to masterful immediately. “Stand up.”

Hutch complied.

Starsky circled around Hutch and, grabbing both wrists, secured them behind his back.

Hutch tested his bonds. No, he couldn’t get out of these easily. Not that he wanted to. He had agreed to this, he would see it through.

Starsky walked around and stood in front of Hutch. He took a white leash out of the brown bag and clipped it to the ring on the collar.

Hutch saw love burning in Starsky’s eyes. That love made all this special.

Starsky put his hand behind Hutch’s head and pulled Hutch to him. He kissed Hutch forcefully on the lip, exploring every inch of Hutch’s mouth with his tongue.

Hutch responded eagerly. He began to feel dizzy again. There was something very erotic about being kissed with his hands fastened behind his back. Being so close to his lover, but not being able to touch him. It rose Starsky to the level of a God, untouchable by Hutch’s hands.

Starsky pulled away and picked up his sports bag. Carrying it out of the bedroom, he dumped it onto the couch.

Hutch stood, swaying slightly. Do I move or not? Starsky hasn’t told me to.

Starsky walked back into the bedroom and wrapped his fist around the leash. Grinning, he pointed at Hutch’s groin. “Why, Mr. Hutchinson, I do believe you are enjoying this.”

Hutch had to admit he was enjoying the bondage more than he thought he would.

Starsky tugged at the leash and led Hutch into the living room.

Hutch noticed that one of his large hanging planters had been taken off it’s hook and put on the kitchen table. What is Starsky planning? His belly fluttered with a flash of panic at the unknown entity ahead of him.

Starsky positioned Hutch underneath the hook, and started digging around inside his bag. He obviously found what he wanted because he straightened and sidled up behind Hutch.

Suddenly, Hutch was plunged into darkness. “What the…? he said, startled.

“Don’t panic, Hutch. The blindfold will enhance the pleasure. Stimulate your other senses.” The softly spoken words soothed Hutch, and he relaxed.

Starsky pulled Hutch’s feet apart, and he heard two clicks. He couldn’t close his legs. “Starsk?” he whispered. The calm caused by the collaring evaporated, he was starting to feel really uncomfortable with this whole thing. He should have questioned Starsky more. Made him explain his plans.

“Spreader bar, babe. Don’t want you hiding those balls, do we?”

Hutch heard another click. Oh, God, what now? Why did I agree to this? His wrists were wrenched upward. The movement forced him to bend forward. Pain shot through his back and shoulders.

“I knew there was a better use for these hooks,” Starsky crowed in Hutch’s ear.

Hutch groaned, “Starsk, this really hurts.” He was just about to say “Buffalo” when he became aware of gently caressing on his buttocks. Starsky repeatedly circled the puckered skin around Hutch’s anus with his fingertips until it was all Hutch could focus on. Rational thought left behind. Finally, he stroked Hutch’s inner thighs, his touch light and sensuous. Hutch’s skin tingled, and he purred with pleasure. All the pain in his shoulders and back paled into insignificance under this onslaught of divine torture.

Hutch gasped as Starsky moved his hands, kneading Hutch’s balls, and stroking his hard cock. Something prickled his stomach, and he moaned as Starsky’s tongue flicked around the crown of his penis, licking and probing the end of his urethra. At the same time, Starsky tickled Hutch’s balls, his fingertips dancing lightly along the sensitive perineum between Hutch’s cock and anus.

Hutch writhed in ecstasy. He had never experienced such all consuming sensation and desperately wanted to orgasm.

“Do not come.” Starsky’s voice broke into Hutch’s consciousness, and something tight was placed around Hutch’s penis. “A cock ring to help you obey,” Starsky explained.

Hutch’s erection softened slightly, and his desire to ejaculate lessened.

The touching stopped and silence wrapped around Hutch. He stilled, straining his ears for a sound, or any indication that Starsky was still there. Hutch’s own heartbeat echoed in his ears. He panicked and struggled, trying to free himself. “What’s happening? Where are you, Starsk?”

“Shush, I’m still here, babe. I wouldn’t leave you alone, not restrained like that.” Starsky rubbed his hands over Hutch’s back, and grasped his pelvis tightly.

A sudden, sharp stab of pain shocked Hutch as Starsky pushed his cock into Hutch’s rectum. He grunted, and tensed against the unexpected intrusion. Damn, that never gets any less painful. Hutch gritted his teeth.

Starsky stopped. “Sorry, buddy.”

Hutch breathed deeply, and the pain eased. “It’s okay, Starsk. Please, I want you, now,” he begged. Pain, pleasure, pleasure, pain, all merging into one, until Hutch wasn’t sure which was which.

Starsky thrust his hips into Hutch’s backside, gently at first, and then harder, faster. Starsky held Hutch firmly in place, thrusting deeply. So deep that Hutch felt as if Starsky had actually climbed inside him. Their bodies were no longer separate, they were one.

Hutch could hear Starsky’s guttural growling as his passion mounted, and then a sting when his nails dug into Hutch’s butt cheeks. Starsky shuddered violently. Hutch gasped as Starsky’s semen filled his ass, his own orgasm held in check by the cock ring.

Starsky pulled out slowly. He gently tickled Hutch with his fingertips, while his palms anchored Hutch’s stance.

Hutch hovered between heaven and earth. He wasn’t sure which world he belonged to. Twinkling stars danced across his vision and split into a million atoms. His point of release denied by his Master.

Starsky removed the cock ring, and Hutch moaned as the blood flowed freely.

Starsky’s mouth locked around his penis, sucking, teasing, biting. Starsky’s ministrations were relentless and powerful. He took Hutch’s whole length in his mouth. A sky full of fireworks exploded simultaneously in Hutch’s head, he screamed with pure pleasure. Riding the crest of the moment, Hutch slumped, spent from his orgasm.

Starsky supported him from underneath. “Hutch, you okay? I’m going to get you down. Try to stand up for me.”

Hutch shifted his weight. His legs were jelly and struggled to take his weight. He lurched forward as Starsky moved. Hutch groaned. The pressure on his shoulders was suddenly unbearable.

Starsky quickly released Hutch’s ankles from the bar, and then unhooked his wrists. Starsky steadied him as he collapsed to the floor. Unclipping the cuffs, he massaged Hutch’s shoulders.

Hutch slowly maneuvered his arms to the front of his body and winced. The pain of free movement was excruciating after being suspended.

Starsky took the blindfold off, and Hutch blinked, adjusting to the light. He focused on Starsky’s concerned face.

“You okay, pal?” asked Starsky quietly.

Hutch hugged him. “That was mind blowing. Really amazing. Thank you.”

Starsky grinned, the uncertain expression of earlier leaving his handsome face. “I didn’t hurt you too much. You looked really uncomfortable. I was worried that I’d gone too far. Too much, too soon.”

“I’m okay. It was painful, but your loving blotted out the hurt,” Hutch assured him. “Did you enjoy it? Was it all you anticipated?” Knowing how much he had eventually enjoyed the experience, Hutch wanted his lover to share in his pleasure. After all, Starsky had done all the work!

“All, and more. It was perfect. Thank you for letting me. I love you so much, Hutch.” Starsky’s goofy grin spread over his face.

Hutch melted. He loved that grin. “Love you, too, partner.” Hutch was sure that his already all consuming love for Starsky had just shifted to a whole level, if that was even possible.

Starsky grabbed Hutch’s right wrist. “Let’s get these off.”

Hutch pulled his hand away. “No.” He fingered the collar. “I’ll need them later.”

“You want to do this again?” Starsky leered.

“Yeah, why not? I will do anything for you, Starsk,” Hutch confessed, knowing now that he meant every word. He really would do anything that Starsky asked of him.

“Come here, you big lummox.” Starsky leaned over, and kissed him.

 

The End.