Learning The Ropes

By joan the english chick
Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Please read the Disclaimer in Part One!
Thanks are due to: my Evil Twin, Katherine the Art Chick, for advice on certain sexual practices; to Katrina and Stormwolff for advice on certain other practices as well as for beta-reading and general encouragement; and to Stormwolff again for advice on modes of transport (you'll see).
Xenite Disclaimer for Part Seven: No subversive paradigms were unduly exploited in the production of this fanfic.

Xena took the lead by several paces, and they walked mostly in silence back to her dorm. Gabrielle surprised Luther by sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow, but he thought he understood when she moved her hand down his arm and pressed her cold fingers into his palm. The light touch put his entire body on alert, and he could already feel his body becoming sensitized in anticipation.

When they entered the common room of the suite, the door to Minya's room was closed. Xena held up a hand for silence, and they could all hear the quiet sounds of voices drifting from the other room. Raising her eyebrows, Xena led the way to her room.

"I bet they don't fuck," she commented, not bothering to lower her voice. Luther winced, but Gabrielle merely smirked.

"You really think so?" she asked as Xena pulled their door shut and turned to the stereo.

"Bet they're in there all night just talking and holding hands," Xena said with a similar smirk, putting in a CD and hitting the start button. The soft sounds of Enya filled the room.

Luther looked around. Xena had moved the bed; instead of its previous position tucked neatly against the short wall, it now stood jutting out into the room, its foot against said wall, taking up much of the available floor space. There was about a foot and a half of space between the bed's long side and the opposite long wall: enough room to squeeze by, but not to move comfortably.

Gabrielle was stripping, and she nodded at Luther to do the same. Watching Xena out of the corner of his eye, he obeyed, removing his clothes methodically and folding them into semi-neat little piles which Gabrielle took from him and laid on a spare chair.

Xena had been rummaging through her large drawerful of equipment, producing several items, including a long, silky, pitch-black strip of fabric. Running it through her fingers, she advanced on Luther and lifted her arms. The purpose of the cloth finally hit him as she moved it toward his face, and he backed off in sudden alarm.

"What's this?" he asked uneasily. Xena raised her eyebrows at him.

"This is the next step. You thought the handcuffs were the end of it?"


"You have to trust us," Gabrielle said, moving beside them. Xena rolled her eyes.

"It's not about trust," she said disdainfully. "It's just about desire. Desire makes things happen. *He* wants it," she added, pointing with her chin at Luther's half-hard penis, which stood away from his body like a testimonial. "Does he rule you, or do you rule him?"

Luther looked at her, trying to discern whether the question was rhetorical, but her expression seemed to await an answer, so he answered. "Men have been asking themselves that question for thousands of years," he said. "Wouldn't it be hubris for me to presume to answer it?"

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows dubiously, but Xena grinned -- for the first time, a grin of real amusement. "So it would," she agreed pleasantly. "But right at this particular moment, you've got him to answer to -- and without this," holding the cloth up, "he gets fuck-all. So?"

Luther looked into her eyes and reminded himself of everything that had happened since he had met her. He dropped his arms and she lifted hers, moving the blindfold into place, making sure it was tight over his eyes, moving behind him to tie it firmly. His eyes stretched wide, but he could see nothing. He found himself holding his breath and let it out, slowly, ears straining to make up the difference.

He heard a very brief whisper, so soft he couldn't make out words or even determine which woman was speaking. Then it was Xena's voice at his ear, could only be her fingers warm on his right arm. "Not left-handed, are ya?"

"No," he confirmed, and felt the chill touch of the cuff on his wrist, heard it rattle and click shut. A slight tug, and he knew she had fastened the other end to the bedpost.

Another instant of silence, and then he felt a touch on his chest. He jumped. A soft intake of breath, and the touch was gone. His entire body tensed and tingled; his breathing quickened. The touch came again, now on his shoulderblade. Two fingers stroked lightly, paused, and were gone again. Luther's hands clenched, his head went back, and he groaned softly. Now something soft -- not a hand -- brushed his upper arm, and then a single finger was running down his leg. The uncertainty was unbearable. His erection was complete, pulsing with excitement. At each staccato touch it wobbled, yearning.

After an eternity of this, there was a longer pause, and then another touch on his skin -- this time stinging, like the bite of a tiny insect on his arm. He yelped. Fingers on his free arm, lifting it, placing the hand on a soft surface -- he felt a nipple, and from the height he knew it was Gabrielle. He squeezed her breast lightly between his fingers and felt another bite, stinging on his thigh this time. He yelped again. As the pain subsided, desire suffused him and he felt a rush of blood to his already swollen penis. His head spun. Another bite, now on his chest, and his fingers tightened around Gabrielle's nipple, and she gave a little yelp of her own, and he heard a low throaty chuckle that could only be Xena's.

"Okay," she said, and Gabrielle withdrew, and Luther could only hear his own panting for a moment. Then Xena was beside him again, her hands businesslike on him, guiding him backward until he felt the bed against the backs of his knees. She pushed lightly, and he sat. More pushing, and he scooted over on the bed until his captive right arm was fully extended, but not pulled to the point of pain.

Now there ensued a long moment of stillness, and then he heard a zipper, and sounds of cloth sliding against itself, and a small squeak of startlement or dismay from Gabrielle; another chuckle, and a wet slurping sound that must be a kiss. And now the women were sitting beside him, Xena on his right against the bound arm, Gabrielle on his left drawing his free hand around her waist. His hand slid across her back and under her arm and he could feel the swell of her far breast with his fingertips. On each side, a nipple pressed aginst his ribs, doing nothing to allay his feeling of lightheadedness.

Xena spoke in his ear, and he could feel Gabrielle mirroring her pose, their hot sweet breath on his lobes. "How do you feel about the pain?" the dark woman asked huskily. He gasped erratically for a moment before replying.

"It's not my thing."

Xena snorted softly. "Gabrielle?"

"He loves it," the small poet said chokingly, her tense voice clearly showing how aroused she was. Her lips were so close now, he could almost feel them on her ear, but a sharp motion went through Xena's body and Gabrielle pulled back.

"Uh-huh." He felt Xena reaching over, and then a sharp pain on his left nipple, something cold and hard clamping down on it. He gave a cry and jerked back, but the chained arm wrenched, and he had to hold still, gasping slightly. Slowly, his body adjusted to the painful pinch and, again, he felt heat flooding his skin. Xena leaned over even farther, and he heard a tiny metallic sound, and then Gabrielle stiffened and gasped in his arm, and he felt a cold brush his side, and realized Xena had attached the other clip to Gabrielle's nipple.

The poet's breathing quickened as well, but she recovered more quickly than Luther had, and in another instant Xena was moving aside slightly, and Gabrielle was turning and moving -- always careful with the chain that connected their two nipples, not tugging it taut. Now she had one knee moving over Luther's legs, and she straddled him, kneeling on the bed, her hands on his shoulders for balance, so it was Xena's hand that reached underneath and guided his stiff cock into Gabrielle's moist depths. Gabrielle sank down slowly, filling herself; Luther placed his free hand on her hip, and then he felt her left hand moving off his shoulder, and Xena's hair brushed his chest, and he heard soft suckling noises. Gabrielle moaned strongly, tightening her vaginal muscles and thrusting against him, and he felt her throw her head back.

Xena moved her head as well, and her hand slid between them and tugged the chain. A fresh surge of pain united the two, and the heat followed. Sweat slicked their bodies and Gabrielle was moving faster, Luther able to do little more than sit there, holding her driving hip with his lesser hand.

But after only an instant Xena made them stop again. Gabrielle, moaning breathily, froze in place, and Luther groaned in protest, and then the painful clip was gone, leaving his nipple crying out with relief. Xena's hair brushed his chest again and he heard more suckling sounds, which he sensed were the sounds of her tongue soothing Gabrielle's pinched nipple for an instant. Then Gabrielle was moving aside and climbing off Luther, and Xena was turning him, pulling him back onto the bed and roughly guiding him into a kneeling position. His feet touched the chilly metal of the railing at the head of the bed, and he was kneeling facing down the length of the bed, with his right hand still cuffed and pulled awkwardly behind. He was panting, his entire body throbbing with need.

More movement, and the bed shook slightly as another body climbed onto it, and he could hear Gabrielle's harsh panting breath and smell the dizzying scent of her intense arousal. And then he could feel the heat of her skin against him, and again it was Xena's hand on his erection pulling him forward, guiding him. He leaned into Gabrielle and found that she was on all fours in front of him, her ass against his lower belly as he entered her from behind. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold and pictured her crouched there, her small shapely breasts dangling -- he imagined Xena's hands fondling them -- her mouth open with lust, damp golden hair dripping into her eyes. She thrust violently back against him, and he cried out with pleasure, again moving his left hand to her hip and using it to steady himself.

Once he had his bearings, Luther found a rhythm, and the pleasure began to peak, and too late he began to wonder where Xena had gone. But just as this thought occurred to him, he felt another biting sting, on his back this time, preceeded by a whistling whooshing sound which, he finally realized, was the whip singing through the air. He yelped and jerked, thrown off balance; his bound hand protested; the movement thrust his shaft again into Gabrielle so that it sent a fresh wave of pleasure through him; and the point on his back that had received the whip throbbed and tingled. Another whoosh, another sting, another gasp an involuntary jerk. In confusion his body could no longer separate pain from pleasure, and he climaxed unexpectedly, groaning against Gabrielle's sweaty back.

As the waves subsided, his limbs went wobbly, and he leaned harder against Gabrielle for support. Whimpering softly, she pushed back against him again, but his cock had gone limp inside her. He felt her tremble. Then Xena was there, brusquely pulling Gabrielle away so that Luther fell ungracefully on his face. His bound arm twinged again in protest, and he pulled himself upright, sitting against the railing and turning to ease his arm into a more comfortable position.

When he had arranged himself to his satisfaction, he paused, trying to quiet his breathing, and listened. He could feel the bed moving underneath him, and the noises he heard were provocative -- more slickly wet sucking sounds, the shift of skin against sheets, and Gabrielle's increasingly desperate cries of ecstasy. Her voice rose higher in pitch as her moans came more frequently, and finally peaked on a shrill but lovely exclamation of her lover's name.

Another brief silence ensued, and then Xena was rising -- he realized she had been on the floor beside the bed -- and approaching him. He could still hear Gabrielle gasping for breath. As Xena drew near he could smell the sweat and her own arousal mingling with Gabrielle's. She stood over him and he could feel her looking at him.

"So," she said, her voice hoarse. "Tell me again how pain isn't your *thing.*" Luther was silent, trying to keep his breathing even, uncertain how to reply.

After a moment, Xena made a soft impatient sound and grabbed his free arm, pulling him to his feet. He stood beside the bed, still chained to it. Her footsteps were quick, moving past him and then back. All at once he heard the whoosh, the soft crack of the whip, and felt it stinging his back. He grunted and jerked. She had used the whip more firmly this time, and its touch seemed to bite deeper; when the pain subsided, the rush of heat was more intense.

But now Xena didn't wait for him to assimilate the pain before continuing. The second stroke followed swiftly behind the first, and she moved in a quick methodical cycle across his back, over his shoulders and arms, down his buttocks and thighs. Her hand on the whip was skillful, avoiding his tender parts, modulating the intensity of the strokes at random to keep him breathless. When she finally stopped, he was panting, his skin flushed hot, and his erection was back in full force. He groaned again, unwillingly, and heard her laugh softly, almost a growl, filled with savage excitement.

"Gabrielle," she said, and he heard the poet sliding off the bed and going to join her powerful lover. There were more whispers that he couldn't make sense of, and then a presence in front of him, sinking downward, and -- he gasped loudly -- a humid mouth closing around his pulsing erection.

Luther's hands clenched again and he tugged fruitlessly at the cuffs. His head spun as he tried to discern which woman was sucking him, her tongue painting dizzying electric spirals up the length of his shaft. Then he felt the other one behind him, and she was pressing herself against his back, which was now almost unbearably sensitized from the whipping. Her nipples were hard under his shoulderblades, so he knew it was Gabrielle, clutching his hips to pull him against her, her tangle of pubic hair tickling his thighs. And it was Xena on her knees in front of him, of course, performing the sweet torture with her omniscient mouth.

As he surged toward the peak again, with shocking suddenness Gabrielle pulled back and Xena's fingers curled around his tightened buttocks, and before he realized what she was doing, she had pressed one long strong finger into the cleft, found his opening and entered it. He gave a cry of protest and tried to pull away, but the cuffs and his hyper-aroused body betrayed him. Xena's finger dug into his anus, pressing forward, finding his most sensitive spot, and another howl of surrender tore from his throat as he poured himself out into her mouth.

At long last, Luther recovered, though his knees were still shaky and he felt beads of sweat tickling his flesh all over. As his breathing returned to normal, Xena stood up, and he realized she still had her finger inside him.

"Mmm," she said thoughtfully, sliding her finger out with agonizingly slow deliberation, making him shudder. "I wonder how many other things you don't think you'd enjoy?"

Luther, panting and trembling, could only shake his head. Xena pushed him backwards and, off-balance, he fell onto the bed. Suddenly he felt exhausted, and the bed's embrace was deliciously welcome. The pressure on his wrist was finally relieved as Xena released the handcuff, and he fell immediately asleep.

Luther was awakened by the sound of voices in the outer room. Xena didn't bother to lower her voice, but the other person's tone was hushed, so Luther could only make out fragments of conversation.

"We really ... take long," he heard, and then Xena replying.

"I don't care. Come back later."

"...a second. And ... you do."

Luther heard Xena sigh loudly. "Oh all right. Wake up, you!" This last to Luther. "Out of the way." He sat up, turning his head blindly, and in another instant the blindfold was whisked off and he blinked in the light. Gabrielle was sitting in the chair by the desk, pen and notebook in hand, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and thick fleecy slippers. Xena, entering from the outer room with a scowl, was dressed again in her standard black jeans and white t-shirt. Following immediately behind her was Ian.

Luther flinched, but for the moment the short blond man had no interest in his naked form. Striding to the window, he slid his body into the narrow space between wall and bed, and threw the window open.

"Hey!" cried Gabrielle in protest, pulling her robe tighter around her body as a gust of chilly air swirled in. Still scowling, Xena tugged Luther off the bed and pulled it out of the way so she could join Ian at the window. Curious, Gabrielle and Luther crowded in as well.

In the narrow space between the building and its neighbor, parked on the paved walkway, stood a magnificent shining black motorcycle, every bit of chrome gleaming, the leather trim swallowing the eye like so many miniature black holes. Standing beside it, one proprietary hand resting on the handlebar, was Hank, looking up at the window.

"My hog," Xena said. "The fuck you doing with that, you asshole?" she called, leaning out the open window.

"Giving it to you, you ungrateful bitch," Hank called back, his words tinny and shallow in the cold -- but the grey winter light clearly showed the pleased grin on his face.

For the first time since Luther had known her, Xena looked truly surprised. "The fuck," she said again, with less conviction. She whirled, bounded over the bed and was out the door, snagging her leather jacket with one finger as she went.

"Jesus!" said Gabrielle, yanking her own coat on over her bathrobe. "Come on!"

"He's giving her a motorcycle?" Luther asked in astonishment as he snatched his trousers from the floor and pulled them over his bare skin. He grabbed his own coat and struggled to shove his arms into it as he rushed across the hall and down the stairs after the pelting poet and Ian.

"It's hers already," Gabrielle explained over her shoulder, panting as they ran. "Xena had a bad accident on it last year, broke her pelvis and smashed up the bike really badly. She didn't think it was salvageable, and after the accident she sort of lost her taste for riding anyway, so it's been sitting in Hank's dad's garage ever since."

"She broke her pelvis just a year ago?" Luther was impressed. "She's certainly bounced back."

"Doctor Niklis says she has amazing recuperative powers."

They had reached the outer door and burst out into the cold, to find Xena kneeling, running her hands lovingly over the bike's surfaces, like an ancient healer laying on hands to diagnose an ailment by feel. Hank stood by, watching with pride.

Finally Xena rose, and there was a strange glow lighting her face. "Shit," she said to Hank. "I can't believe you fixed her." She caught sight of Gabrielle, who was bouncing partly with excitement and partly with cold. "Go get dressed, fer chrissake!" Xena ordered. Gabrielle whirled around and dashed back inside.

"Good as new," Hank promised, grinning happily, as Ian came to stand by his side. The two men exchanged a glance of mutual self-congratulation. Xena shook her head in amazement.

"I can't believe it," she said again. "You been fixing her up this whole time, you asshole. Shit."

"You're welcome," Hank said, still grinning, as she moved beside the machine and threw one long black-clad leg over it, straddling it with easy familiarity, gripping the handles. All three men were silent, drinking in the delicious rightness of the sight, the way Xena seemed to meld with the machine between her thighs.

The silence was broken by the reappearance of Gabrielle, who burst again out from the dorm, now wearing her jeans and sweater under her coat. Her golden hair flowed in the biting breeze as she ran across the pavement to the bike and stood beside it, giving it and Xena a look of adoration and anticipation.

Xena jerked her head commandingly, and with a tiny squeak of delight Gabrielle climbed on behind her, wrapping her arms around her lover's waist and leaning her small form against Xena's strong back. Xena kicked the starter, producing a loud growl that made them all jump before it settled into a slow, lazy purr, so soft yet throbbing with energy that it seemed the sound had been created just for Xena. She lifted the bike upright, pushed up the kickstand, leaned ever so slightly forward, twisted the handle ... and the machine took off, roaring over the pavement and around the corner so fast that Gabrielle's hair whipped back and forth in a frenzy. They were gone so fast the three men, watching, were left breathless.

Next Chapter

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joan the english chick
Last updated 7 February 1998 (content) / 25 February 2002 (format)